Sunday, March 20, 2005

Cadillacs and Catholics

I had to rent a car this week. I ended up with a Cadillac DeVille which is a car that is just a little bit larger than, oh I don’t know…. a BUS!!!

This is the type of car that you only see old people drive so when they plow into the farmers market there’s plenty of room in the trunk for fruit.

So…. You’re probably asking, why would he rent a Cadillac in the first place? I think there’s a law that says when you get to a certain age all Italian men need to buy a Cadillac. My Grandfather, my father, my uncles all drove a Cadillac. Think of it as an extension of an Italian man’s wallet.

I drive a Cadillac CTS because I only buy American. Cadillac is a good American name isn’t it? What the hell does it mean? It sounds like how a Chinese person would pronounce cardiac, which is how most of the old farts that drive them die. Anyway, when it goes in for service I get to rent another Cadillac.

All the rentals are these big “boats” called DeVille’s. I think that’s why they refer to them as their “fleet” of rental vehicles. I’m guessing the reason they rent these is because there aren’t enough old Italian men to sell them to. I think De Ville is Italian for The Boat.

I would never own one because it sounds French.

Don’t get me wrong it’s a nice car. A family of four could vacation in there. It’s just an odd feeling driving a car that Captain Stubbing should be commanding (for you young people that’s a reference to an old TV show call the Love Boat that all the old has-been actors with a tan did) Think of it like “Survivor” if your parents were starring in it.

I finally figured out why they have that Cadillac Emblem that sticks out in the front of the car in the middle of the hood. It gives old Italian men something to aim with.

It has heated seats, which are… well…kind of fun for some odd reason and the stereo has been fine tuned to listen to opera. It has, get this, A HEATED STEERING WHEEL!!!!! Maybe that’s why we Italian men always have warm hands.

It should have a heated gas peddle so that their foot is comfortable when they reach ramming speed. It would be better if it came with automatic pilot so those old bastards could pick just one lane to drive in or cruise control so they could go the freaking speed limit.

Something did dawn on me while I was at the Cadillac dealership. Everyone there was old. The salesmen, the mechanics, the customers… all old.

Then it hit me.

I’M GETTING OLD!!!!!!!!!!

I’m feeling this sudden urge to wake up at 5:00am no reason.

I feel compelled to start every sentence with, “When I was your age….”

I can only vote Republican.

I want to start all my meetings at work at 7:00am just to piss everyone else off.

I feel the need to date young women but I don’t like their music and I have a bad knee.

I think I need one of those squeezy plastic things that old men have to keep change in. Where do they get those anyway? Does it come with your first Social Security Check?

I’m going to go out and by an old green chair for my living room that no one is allowed to sit in except me and then I’m going sit in it and watch Perry Mason reruns while I drink red wine and eat cheddar cheese.

OH MY GOD I AM TURNING INTO MY FATHER!!!!!!

I’M DRIVING A CADILLAC!!!

I’m not going to panic. I’m only 47. I’ve got three semi good years left.

The clock is ticking, ticking, ticking.

This sucks.

You know you’re getting older when you hurt yourself in your sleep. I’m serious. Sometimes I wake up and I’ve got pain in parts of my body, I have no clue what they are.

“Why does this part of my side hurt? Is it a tumor? Did I break something? Did I rupture my liver? Oh please God don’t make the doctor put the glove on to check this!”

And I’ll notice myself making these noises when I get up, grunting… panting… wincing… noises!!! I feel like the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz. Maybe I should keep an oilcan by the side of my bed.

I've thought about buying "Geritol", I remember when I was a kid that old people used to drink this to feel better, but when I read the ingredients on the label I realized it was just scotch and water.

Another sign I’m growing old is that I’m starting to talk to my food. Okay I admit it. I have always talked to my food but I never expected it to answer back. It was more of a “come to poppa, who’s your daddy?” kind of thing.

Let me explain. Nothing makes me crazier than old people at a buffet. You cannot give old people that many choices, really, you can’t. They go through a buffet like it’s an art gallery. “Oh look at this, look at that.”

Please just pick something, anything, and get out of my way.

Old people don’t want to eat they just want to ask questions about the food…even when there’s no one there to answer. Lets face it they have no one else to listen to them, their kids have caller ID.

“Are you chicken or fish? Hmmm…did they put mayonnaise in you? Aren’t you pretty? How many calories are you? Are you fresh?”

I’m starting to do that.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never asked the calorie question…ever!

I will never understand how anyone can go to a restaurant not knowing what they want to eat. I plan my attack before I leave the house.

If you go to Black Angus you go there for… let me guess… MEAT!!!!

If you go to Point Loma Seafood you go there for… FISH!!!

If you go to a buffet you want EVERYTHING!!!!!! So pick a little of EVERYTHING and move your ass down the line!!!

If I ever own a buffet I will have it broken down into sections.

One section walled off behind soundproof glass for people with children. That’s right I don’t think the rest of us should have to listen to little Timmy scream that he wants more chocolate pudding. Guess what? You’re little brat doesn’t have A.D.D. Maybe he’s just and asshole. We’ve all met or worked for assholes in our lives; I’m guessing they started out like little Timmy.

One section for old people, staffed by old people. If there going to take that long to go through the line then they’re going to have to wait to get a seat while grandpa clears the tables. Then they can stay in line all day and complain to each other.

One section for vegetarians because watching them go through a buffet is just plain sad. They really want the good stuff but they have to pretend they like that salad that just looks like weeds.

One section for people that don’t speak or read English. It isn’t “Pollo” it’s “CHICKEN”!!!! “Pollo” is a game that rich people play on horseback.

Last but not least, one section for the pros. Those of us that take a little of everything and sort it out when we sit down. We’re buffet pros. We don’t ask questions, we don’t talk. We’re in the zone. It’s a Zen thing with us. This is our temple and we have come to worship. Make ready the sacrifice.

Hmmm… It’s almost dawn…. I’m cold… I feel the need to go for a drive. I feel the need, the need for a Grand Slam Denny’s breakfast.

How old to I have to be to get the senior discount?

I’m sorry, I know this is a long rant but I just can’t let this go. If you’re going to be offended by me picking on the Catholic Church don’t read this.

The Catholic Bishop here in San Diego, Bishop Brom, refused to allow a man to have his “funeral” in a Catholic Church because his business was "inconsistent with Catholic moral teaching". He owned a gay nightclub. According to the Bishop this was a nightclub frequented by gay porn stars. In fact he said they even filmed a gay porn film in this nightclub.

I have a question. How did the Bishop know? If a quote unquote “concerned” parishioner informed the Bishop, how did he know?

I’m just asking that’s all. Think about it. God knows there hasn’t been any issue with homosexuality among priests. What’s that old saying? People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

I have another question for his holiness. Let’s assume that being gay is a sin and let’s also assume that everything said about this man was true. He was gay, promoted the gay lifestyle, had gay parties, made gay porno films, he even had a parade, whatever. How does the Bishop know, that with this man’s last dying breath, he didn’t ask God for forgiveness?

It seems to me that being a pedophile is inconsistent with Catholic moral teaching. Could there still be priests giving funeral rites that were once pedophiles but according to the church have since "repented"?

Hypocrite. I should say a prayer for you but instead I’m going to go buy a lottery ticket. I figure I’ve got the same odds it will do any good.

I don’t want to let the gay people off without a little jab because sometimes you have to shake your head at some of the drivel they say as well. The following was said by gay man interviewed on the news today, “We all are a little gay. Each of us has a little bit of homosexuality inside of us. We need to embrace this and love one another.”

Um…..

I’m 47 years old…

I have had seven complete physicals…in a row.

If there is one thing I know.

I’m not gay.

Not even a little.

Not even a smidge.

If I am gay and don’t know it I can tell you this… I DON'T LIKE IT!!!!

Not even a little.

Not even a smidge.

Now I’m done.

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