Still one of the best cartoons ever.
stolen from Knuckledraggin
Still one of the best cartoons ever.
stolen from Knuckledraggin
I’m looking for an ACME box somewhere as he hits wall
This happens to me like everyone else. When in school, I used to get a whole pack of these and I never once remember making it to the end.
Just try and find a pen when you have to take a message on the phone and almost 100% of the time it won’t write.
It was a good TV show when I was a kid. My Mom dreaded that I watched such nonsense and that it would certainly ruin me. I didn’t get any smarter by watching the show. It provided me with clean entertainment as compared to the woke TV the kids get now.
There were some things that didn’t make sense.
The professor could charge batteries for their radio by stirring coconuts, but couldn’t fix the Minnow?
Finally, my answer. It was Ginger, My how things have changed…
She’s the only one of the cast left
This is true for me, although I didn’t learn quickly enough.
Once I realized you can’t change people, I changed me.
My internal GPS won’t let me stay in groups that I know are wrong for me, just not why. It’s called Mauerbauertraurigiheit.
As I wrote my way through my youth in a journal, I went to school with some people for up to 17 years. When I had the chance to be included, something I thought would finally endear me into their group, I wouldn’t do it. I realized who they were and knew they were poison and I couldn’t move ahead in life with them as an anchor.
It was the same for almost every group I’ve been in. The thought of being stuck with the same people because of duty was emotionally too great of a burden. I wasn’t there for the right reason. I couldn’t stay anymore.
A very old girlfriend reached out to me recently, but I couldn’t talk to her. It was a relationship that ended badly. I don’t have the desire to relive it again even though we’ve moved on. That is the point though, I moved on.
back then it was 422-1611, I’ll never forget it.
Another childhood book, like revenge of the tiger, but Claude Balls; Yellow River by I P Freely….there are hundreds of them
Hat tip to wirecutter.
Oh yes, I could say it with a straight face, depending on the other person. I just texted my friend George that there were a lot of balls to juggle, instead balls in the air.
I still call them wiener’s if there is a chance the other person will feel uncomfortable.
Hat tip to wirecutter on this one. It was too good to not share.
You have to know Phil McCraken is a butt crack joke. Hiscock should have just changed his name
For all the names, here is your song that says them all. Seymour Butts, Jack N. Off, Stu Pedaso…their all in here
Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, the bat mobile lost a wheel and the commissioner broke his leg.
We 3 kings from Orient are, tried to smoke a rubber cigar. It was loaded it exploded that was the end of us.
I’m sure there were others.
This would be me, but not because of science. I’d try to knock the end one off the swing.
I grew up in Florida. It’s pretty much the mosquito capital given all the water and year round climate. Other places can be more intense, but for being bit all year long, it’s hard to beat the Sunshine State.
I got bit as a kid as much as others. Heck, we vacationed in a place that has a section of the city called Mosquito Lagoon. It’s some of the best Red Fishing outside of Louisiana.
We didn’t have air conditioning at first when I was young so the window were open. Ever been kept away by the whine of a buzzing biter in your ear. Yes, just like the dentist drill we all know the noise.
I began to notice in my 20’s though that others were getting bit more than me. There were also biting gnats (no see’ums) that were almost worse. You couldn’t see them. You could at least kill some mosquitos if you saw them in time.
I thought that maybe I got anti-bite serum from being bit so much. Then I remembered that as kids, we used to follow the mosquito truck on our bikes in the smoke breathing in what has to be DDT or worse. I figured I had natural immunity.
My dad didn’t get bit much either. As a joke, he said it was the meanness in him that kept them away.
It turns out that some people just get bit more and I’m not one of them.
SOME PEOPLE ARE MOSQUITO MAGNETS
As you may have noticed, mosquitoes don’t attack everyone equally. Scientists have known that the pests are drawn to people at varying rates, but they have struggled to explain what makes certain people “mosquito magnets” while others get off bite-free.
In a new paper published on October 18 in the journal Cell, researchers suggest that certain body odors are the deciding factor. Every person has a unique scent profile made up of different chemical compounds, and the researchers found that mosquitoes were most drawn to people whose skin produces high levels of carboxylic acids. Additionally, the researchers found that peoples’ attractiveness to mosquitoes remained steady over time, regardless of changes in diet or grooming habits.
“The question of why some people are more attractive to mosquitoes than others—that’s the question that everybody asks you,” says study co-author Leslie Vosshall, a neurobiologist and mosquito expert at the Howard Hughes Medical Institute and the Rockefeller University. “My mother, my sister, people in the street, my colleagues—everybody wants to know.” That public interest is what drove Vosshall and her colleagues to design this study, she says.
Scientists have put forth some theories to explain why mosquitoes swarm to some of us more than others, including one idea that differences in blood type must be to blame. Evidence is weak for this link, however, Vosshall says. Over time, researchers began to coalesce around the theory that body odor must be a primary culprit in mosquito attraction. But scientists have been unable to confirm which specific odors mosquitoes prefer.
To answer this question, Vosshall and her colleagues gathered 64 participants and had them wear nylon stockings on their arms. After six hours, the nylons were imbued with each person’s unique smell. “Those nylons would not have a smell to me or, I think, to anyone really,” says Maria Elena De Obaldia, a senior scientist at the biotech company Kingdom Supercultures and lead author of this new study, which she conducted while at Rockefeller. Still, the stockings were certainly odorous enough to entice mosquitoes.
The researchers cut the nylons into pieces and placed two (from different participants) into a closed container housing female Aedes aegypti mosquitoes. Did they migrate to subject number one’s sample en masse or prefer the scent of subject number two’s? Or were both equally appealing? The researchers continued these head-to-head battles over several months, Vosshall says, collecting new samples from the participants as needed. When the tournament was over, the team had clear proof that some people were more attractive than others. Subject 33 had the dubious honor of being the biggest mosquito magnet; they had an attractiveness score “over 100 times greater” than that of the least attractive subjects, 19 and 28, the study authors wrote.
The researchers analyzed the subjects’ scent profiles to see what might account for this vast difference. They found a pattern: the most attractive subjects tended to produce greater levels of carboxylic acids from their skin while the least attractive subjects produced much less.
Carboxylic acids are commonplace organic compounds. Humans produce them in our sebum, which is the oily layer that coats our skin; there, the acids help to keep our skin moisturized and protected, Vosshall says. Humans release carboxylic acids at much higher levels than most animals, De Obaldia adds, though the amount varies from person to person. The new study had too few participants to say what personal characteristics make someone more likely to produce high levels of carboxylic acids—and there’s no easy way to test your own skin’s carboxylic acid levels outside of the laboratory, Vosshall says. (She muses, however, that sending people skin swabs in the mail could make for an interesting citizen science project in the future.)
“This property of being a mosquito magnet sticks with you for your whole life—which is either good news or bad news, depending on who you are,” Vosshall says.
“This study confirms, in a very careful way, that it is true that some people are more attractive [to mosquitoes] than others,” says Omar Akbari, a cell and molecular biologist at the University of California, San Diego, who was not involved with the study but whose recent work focuses on mosquitoes. He adds that the study’s identification of specific carboxylic acids as a key determinant of mosquito attraction is a new contribution to biologists’ understanding of the insects’ behavior. Akbari suspects that the results of this study—which focused on A. aegypti mosquitoes—are probably generalizable to other species of mosquitoes that also primarily prey on humans.
I once timed a resignation to my birthday as a present to myself. I can be this childish though. My sense of humor allows it.
What does tomorrow mean to us? I thought about that today. It occurred to me that I don’t have as many tomorrows left. As endless as they used to be, I’d grab at a new handful of them. For now, I’m glad to have the next one. They grow fewer every day (sorry, I had to put that in)
When I was young, I never thought about tomorrow. It always came. Some took forever like when I cared about my birthday, and others flew by.
When something has an endless supply, the value is less. It’s economics. I never considered that I’d be working, or retired, or would have kids, a mortgage or any responsibility. Live for today. It was all about today. I had no real yesterday’s to learn from yet.
If I did think about tomorrow, it was the kid dream about being an astronaut or pilot (what I thought about).
That was so long ago and the days between now and then are so numerous that it seems, like another life for me. I’ve lived many different lives within the one I chronologically am still in.
I recall sitting in the classroom watching the clock ticking away. Tick, tick, tick towards when I’d be able to go home. Time was endless on those days, and this was just between 2 and 2:15 in elementary school. The only good tomorrow started on Friday.
By the time I got to college, I was aware that life was right around the corner. Still, I enjoyed the day without a care. I ignored that inevitable tomorrow. When it came, it was in the form of an exam, or a girlfriend or another event in life. It was finite and had little consequence as to what my next day held. Still, I had no real cares and a lot of what tomorrow brought was a new experience.
Letdowns started to happen, but the ocean of tomorrows never crossed my mind as I did stupid stuff. I think I lost a few tomorrows by taking too many risks. Somehow I survived and was able to live to the next day, always another tomorrow. It was expected.
Life marched on and I grew up, bought a home and started a family. Tomorrows always came, but now they came with other’s problems also. It wasn’t the carefree days when your kid is sick or in trouble. I didn’t have time to think about tomorrow as today brought 10 tons of manure in a 5 ton truck.
So much is happening in your life you take tomorrow for granted or you are too busy to think about anything but today. If you do, those thoughts are invaded with things you have to get done or do for others.
I did notice one thing. I was starting to have a lot of yesterday’s. Some of them happy and some sad. There were lessons learned on both.
The ocean of tomorrows was still seemingly full as it (now) quickly drained away.
The first reminders of fewer tomorrows happened here. Those you used to know have run out of tomorrows.
When you are young, say at a grandparents funeral, you can’t comprehend time not being endless for you. By middle age, you know it is closer, but most choose to ignore the reality of time slipping away.
Rarely, do tomorrows bring something new to me. Occasionally, I get a different version of something I’ve been through. I have many more yesterdays now than the number of tomorrows remaining.
The kids are grown. The mortgage is paid off. I no longer work. I’m among the oldest of my relatives now. It brought me to how many tomorrows there will be. Among those, how many will be good or bad? Will there be tough times?
I try to enjoy the days, even if the tasks are mundane. I have less patience for things that don’t seem meaningful to me. My meaningful scale has changed dramatically over life.
From time to time (becoming far too common), people I know run out of their tomorrows. As I sit at the funerals, life comes into perspective for me, at least the part on Earth.
Tomorrows aren’t endless. You only come with so many. Some have more than others and some enjoy them more than others.
Most of life’s struggles are over, except what happens when the tomorrow’s are running out.
Here’s hoping for another tomorrow, and that it doesn’t suck for me.
But, I remembered I am stuck on Band-Aids because…..
However, I forgot why I was in a room twice yesterday.
Short shorts was a Godsend for a young hormonal man. Of course, childishness set in on sometimes you feel like a nut, which should have been next to number 8
After reaching both puberty and achieving my drivers license, we drove around and made up games. It was sort of like video games in real life.
Everyone has been in a car and someone scores a target based on how many points you get if you open the door by driving and hit them, or just hit them with the car. Before you gasp, this was teenage boys showing off without ever following through. It garnered a good laugh and we always did the same. We drove past the target and counted the score based on who called it first. No lives were lost that I know of.
But here were the rules…..
Old People or disabled – no score as they moved slow and are too easy to hit
Mooning old people – extra points if they grab their heart and gasp (ok, we really did this one)
Young couples or families – a double score, but still low as the kids are like old people, slow and easy
Regular pedestrians – multiple score if you get more than one
All of these are walkers, and aren’t much of a challenge. For higher scores, move on to….
Bikers – A fairly high score as they are a moving target and satisfying if they are holding up traffic. This can only be scored with an open door as hitting with a car wouldn’t be a challenge. The faster the biker, the higher the points. Multiple bikers garners a multiple score, like a 7-10 split.
Motorcycles – A very high score as they are fast. A lower but more satisfying score if you open the door while stopped in traffic and catch one cutting between cars.
Animals -no score as you should lose points if you hurt one. They don’t know you are playing a game.
Practice – revving your car while stopped before someone crosses the sidewalk, then waving them to cross as you keep revving. The smart ones will just say no and not cross.
An acquaintance’s father passed away a few years ago. He was an adjunct to a Five Star General in WWII and a press officer for IBM. He wrote his obituary and his funeral notice. It was spectacular. Not because it touted all that he had done, but that it was clear and concise. When my uncle died, I got that he was a pilot, but not much else and he did a lot of other things that would have been nice to hear.
It’s because someone else wrote his obituary. And there you have the key.
Write your own eulogy and find out what you want the world to know or not know about you. It’s harder than you think because you only have a short space to get in what are the highlights.
A BIGGER PROJECT
For me, it went to exploring the rest of my life and before I knew it, I’m writing about kindergarten or my 3rd job. No one will ever read it, but I finally found out that things like me being an introvert were there all along. My life would have been a lot easier if I’d have known the things I wrote. Sure, it’s hindsight, but the pattern was there. I wonder why it took me so long to see some things.
I remembered teachers (back to kindergarten), classmates, situations, jobs, life and so much that I couldn’t type fast enough. I knew I’d have to edit and re-edit for details and accuracy, but if I could remember it, I wrote it down. I forget a lot of stuff now anyway.
It fell out on the pages who was loyal or a back stabber to me. What was it that I expected or deliverd to friendships. Who I could count on and who I could count on to try to cause me difficulty or harm (mentally or physically).
I realized who was actually a friend and why, and who was passing through that time of my life, but didn’t remain. As I have said, there are a lot of characters in my autobiography who don’t make it to the end.
Guess what I haven’t finished yet. That’s right, the original project. I got so enthralled with trying to recall memories that sometimes would flood my mind, or that one deep memory that I hadn’t thought about in decades.
I’m going back to it as I need a break. It wasn’t just the writing, but having to re-experience feelings and situations that I’d buried were mentally taxing. I haven’t been blogging much as it has been overwhelming.
Why? You will find out more about yourself than you could imagine. You think you know who you are until you write about your warts and missteps, the awkward things you said that you wish you could take back. Why you react the way you do instead of being more effective, especially when you are protecting your inner self.
I found out who I was and why I act the way I have. I got to re-visit a lot of times in my life. While writing, I put myself back into the 6 or 12 year old to feel those times again the way they were, instead of how my mind changed them over the years. Then, I thought if that moment affected my life later. Most times the answer was yes.
There were times I couldn’t type fast enough and had to keep a separate list of all the things I needed to write about. Conversely, I didn’t want to go back after vomiting up memories, joys and pain, success and failures in my life. I didn’t want to write the pain, but it felt better after having said it.
I’ll keep the eulogy, but delete the life story, no one cares anyway other than me. I won’t care soon either.
I guess I’d better get around to that Eulogy now so the kids don’t screw it up.
I loved lawn darts. It’s like eating a tootsie roll pop. You always bite it. With lawn darts, you take maybe 2 throws at the circle and then you are aiming at the other kids. Now, micro aggression’s need safe spaces in case I hurt you with an incorrect pronoun or say a forbidden word. How sad it is that you can become so shallow that words thrown childishly and generally out of context hurt you.
Now for dodgeball. They don’t let kids play it because the unwritten rules are kill the fat kids and girls first as they are the slowest and easiest to hit. It’s why lions kill the slowest in the heard. They are the ones that got a good game banned because they couldn’t win. Note: This game is a good lesson in life, survival, awareness and loyalty.
Loyalty in dodgeball? Yes. When it’s down to a couple of kids, you don’t throw at your friends first. It spilled over into class and life.
Did we aim for the body? If it was available, otherwise a head shot was good for stories 2 days later that everyone enjoyed until Karen’s came along.
If they would stop banning the good games (also red rover), maybe kids would go outside more.
I’ve been reminiscing about when I was young. I’d flit from one thing to the next, never worrying about what was around the next corner. I didn’t plan for tomorrow unless it included fun or something for me to do that wouldn’t affect my retirement.
Now, I can’t take a dump without working out what I’m going to do next and plan my time around it.
My kids are grown now, but I told them to not grow up too fast. They all have mortgages, plus pets and kids that rely on them, like they did on me.
I hurt a lot more now. I’m sore from my first round of golf of the year yesterday, and I didn’t even go at it that hard.
Thanks Irish. I also used baseball cards that could probably be sold for hundreds of dollars had I kept them.
Yes, it had a banana seat, long handlebars and it’s how I learned to do wheelies. We rode everywhere and actually played outside.
My childhood wasn’t ruined by video games. Life was my video game and my metaverse.
Of course we have contacts now and like everything else, we just look at our phones. It’s why we don’t learn anything.
How is it that I can remember my phone number as a kid. Not only that, I remember it as a name with a number. You are old if you can do that.
I dare anyone to comment if they had an alpha-numeric phone number (or name and number depending on what part of the country you are from).
We played war in the streets, along with baseball, football and I drove those cars thousands of miles in the sandbox. We actually learned things rather than looking it up on a phone. Common sense was far more available to us than it is to the snowflakes.
The cars today are driving computers, but you can’t work on them yourself, you need to plug it in to tell you what is wrong. I miss the smooth sound of a V-12, or the deep throated sound of a V-8 in a pony car.
I’ll leave the girls alone other than it was a more genuine look, but our music was way better that what you hear today.
This morning, William Shatner will ride aboard Blue Origin at 90 years of age to be the oldest person ever in space. He missed being the first actor in space by a week as the Russians did that to shoot a movie.
Anyone who knows Star Trek fully gets that the red shirts are the ones who get it on away missions.
He isn’t the first Star Trek Alumni to go to space, just the first one that is alive. Some ashes of Scottie and Gene Roddenbery were sent up a few years back.
There is always the Who is the best Star Trek captain or best series. I am in the TOS camp. The rest use the TOS playbook, but with less daring, panache, creativeness and conquest. For Picard, Sisko, Janeway and Archer fans, they wouldn’t be Captains in the running if there wasn’t a Kirk, end of story.
Even in the movies, the best one is always the Wrath of Khan. It has the best villain, ironic ending and mano a mano story.
I have been a huge Trekkie all of my life. I was alive and watched it during it’s actual first run. When Chekov discovered the Botany Bay on Ceti-Alpha 5, I had goose bumps in the Theater.
The only thing that bothers me about this is that the Enterprise NCC-1701 was a cool ship. Blue Origin looks like a flying dick.
Anyway, live long and prosper.
I loved all the Bugs Bunny cartoons. Marvin the Martian was his foil in a couple. That was when we didn’t have a cancel culture and weren’t afraid of making fun of things without being castrated on Social Media.
I saw every one of them as a kid. I saw every one of them as an adult and appreciated them even more. My kids know every time I reference an episode. It’s even better when they reference one to me.
Here is the illudiam Q-36 explosive space modulator, to blow up the Earth.
And some funny memes
I had a bunch of these as a kid. When I didn’t have a gun, we used to hit the caps with a hammer. We got brave and hit the whole roll at once for a bigger bang.
I am not sorry they didn’t have video games when I was a kid. I can smell the gunpowder as I type this. I discovered a lot of things because of boredom and curiosity in life.
I am not that different than I used to be, but I went ahead and did dumb stuff when I was younger. Fortunately, there wasn’t an Internet to record it.
I played endless paper football between and before class in middle school. We had benches and tables that were perfect.
I could kick the way the picture is above and from one of the sides (where the fold is)
I could make a paper football today, after not making one for decades because I’ve made so many.
It was real life video games for us back then.
I also pitched quarters, but I hated losing money, why gambling was never one of my vices.
I absolutely did this a hundred times, then pelted everyone with them. It was when we played outside instead of in front of a screen.
Some kids pranked a school board in Virginia with oldies like Wayne Kerr (Wanker), Don Kideck (donkey dick) and so forth. It’s going around but here it is. This guy had no idea he was being used like toilet paper, classic.
Now my turn.
In one of my auditorium classes (that held 250) students, we had a test and then were having the lecture. Back then it was 35 mm slides. My cousin was taking a photography class and I had her make me a whole roll of nudes.
While people were turning in their tests, I had my friends block the view between the teacher and me. There were slots open starting at the 7th slide. We anxiously waited that slide and he kept teaching because the screen was behind him. It was a shot of Marilyn Monroe from Playboy to start out. He took it well.
This was in the Animal House days. By the time the movie came out, we’d already done everything in the movie except the horse. We weren’t on double secret probation because we never got caught. We also stole the right test and got A’s in the class.
Now, here are the names you can use that weren’t called out in the prank. Some below were used in the prank above.
It’s almost as good as Euphemisms for Stupid, one of my top 2 posts ever. Someone reads that every day from around the world still. Hats off to the Bob and Tom Show (Paging Richard Smoker) and SNL for these. The clips are out there somewhere still.
Richard Smoker (big dick smoker)
Jack N Off
Harry Balls(ack) – 2 for 1 here
Haywood U Blowme
hous bin pharteen
Ive bin pharteen
jack izdikov (off)
munchma quchi (coochie)
mustaf herod apyur poupr (up your pooper)
yul strokheet al-wautch
And, who can make a list and not include:
One of the tech support guys called the receptionist and had her page Mike at least twice over the loudspeaker to an entire warehouse. It was childish, but then so am I and I laughed as loud as everyone.
I’ve been content free, so enjoy the laugh and do the usual copy and post on your social media of choice.
The trikini and marriage stuff is funny. Some of the Covid stuff makes too much sense.
Some of it just makes you think.
I look at the time out generation and think what a bunch of pussies they are. In reality, it is the parents fault.
I remember getting caught on a coral cliff at the beach and yelling for my Mom. She told me you got up there, you get yourself down. I got down and didn’t try that again.
These are the same complainers and cancel culture morons ruining our lives. They never had to grow up.
They complain on social media now and think someone cares.
I built a million of these things. It was cars, planes, engines and more cars. I got model glue on everything.
Actually, I’m surprised that my brain isn’t mush from all the glue. This was before people were sniffing it to get high.
Most of the fun is in the building, then you just look at them until you built another.
I learned more about how to build an engine and how things work than today’s mush heads, who are killing monsters or shooting anything that moves.
I now see that I was alone for hours when building these guys. It is a trait that I recognize for life and embrace.
I couldn’t believe when I read this on the Art of Manliness blog, a self help for anyone really, but it’s good stuff on how to be a good man.
I saw my life flashing before my eyes as I’ve been winnowing relationships somewhat based on this formula, just on my terms. When I felt someone wasn’t loyal to our relationship, it starts going downhill until I draw the Maginot line and it’s over. I treat others like they treat me.
I didn’t realize how much of a drag on your mental health these relationships are. It has been for me, but I’d made a conscious decision to end them whenever possible when they got toxic for me.
Sometimes it’s Mauerbauertraurigheit, but that is a last resort for me and I have no control over leaving people when that happens. Mostly, I reach a moment of truth and fade away. I don’t ghost people, but I actively avoid them and decline as much as possible until they get the hint. Most of the time, I just get forgotten.
Here are some excerpts, but I’m highlighting only parts of it, what was the blinking light to me. Here goes….
Then there is a category of people which sits right in between. You might call them “frenemies,” though the “enemy” part of that compound can feel like too strong a descriptor. Social scientists have a better term for these kinds of ties: “ambivalent relationships.”
Both positive and negative elements exist in every relationship. In a good, supportive relationship, the positive significantly outweighs the negative. In a bad, aversive relationship, the negative significantly outweighs the positive. In an ambivalent relationship, neither the positive nor the negative predominates; your feelings about the person are decidedly mixed. Sometimes this person is encouraging, and sometimes they’re critical. Sometimes they’re fun, and sometimes they’re a drag. Sometimes they’re there for you, and sometimes they’re not. Sometimes you really like and even love them, and sometimes they bug the ever-living tar out of you.
We can have ambivalent relationships with co-workers, friends, family, and even our spouses. And while we don’t tend to think about our ambivalent relationships as much as we do those on the more polarized ends of the affection spectrum, they actually make up about half of our social networks.
Here’s how it is for me in their words:
Sometimes the connection you feel with someone is very strong when you first meet, but over the subsequent years and decades, you change, and they change, so that your lifestyles, outlooks, and personalities end up more and more disparate. You still think of yourselves as friends, and still have a bond built on a shared history, but your connection is more conflicted than it once was. (Social media really sucks on this one).
Sometimes you’re friends with someone because your spouse is friends with their spouse. They’re not someone you would have actively chosen to be friends with, but because you spend time together as couples, you end up in a relationship, albeit an ambivalent one. (Me, I hate this one. I’ve yet to connect with any of them as they weren’t my friends, they were her friend’s spouse that I was forced to hang with, but we never would otherwise.)
Sometimes you’re just thrown together with people. There are office colleagues and fellow church congregants and roommates who you neither strongly like nor strongly dislike, but that you come to feel quite familiar with because of how much time you spend together. Sometimes this familiarity rises to the level of affection, and sometimes it doesn’t, and sometimes the relationship just kind of is what it is. (Still, I’ve never really made a close friend from this group. They are people I have to put up with for a period of time. I know how much time that is and it is a countdown until whatever social engagement I’m forced into is over).
It goes on to say:
And, of course, there’s the whole dynamic of family. You may have grown up around certain blood relations, but you otherwise share little in common, and the fact you still get together is based more on biological bonds, and the expectations around filial piety and familial obligation, than genuine desire and enjoyment. You’re in fact more likely to have ambivalent relationships with family members than friends, which makes sense; while relationships with friends are a matter of voluntary choice, you end up connected to family members by chance.
I have little in common with any biological family anymore outside of my wife and kids. I wonder about them sometimes. Most are gone, but for the ones that are left, if we weren’t related, we’d never talk (and with most, we don’t). The ones that are left seemed to agree with me to keep each other at arms length. I avoid funerals and weddings if at all possible as I don’t need to catch up. I don’t want to talk about my life to people who are strangers other than the biological relationship.
As I recall growing up, my siblings weren’t my friends. Most of the time they would rather try to get me into trouble starting with telling on me to parents on stuff I didn’t do, progressing to talking shit about me to mutual acquaintances at school just to tear me down publicly or socially. We were forced together as a group. We don’t do anything other than the perfunctory requirements and no one really says anything. Even on vacation when young, I was off on my own on any downtime.
I know I never looked forward to any overnight trip to visit any relatives, even as a kid. I thought most of them were a bit creepy. As an introvert, I pulled away from the social gatherings that usually happened around a big meal. It was dreadful. I didn’t even know I was introverted, it naturally happened.
Now, I just try not to initiate any conversation with them to avoid them even thinking about me. If I can turn down a family gathering that involves siblings, count on it.
As far as other relatives, I’m fortunate to have my wife’s relatives living in another country. I’ve done stuff with them, but they for the most part revert to bashing either the USA, or want to try to make America a socialist country like theirs. They consistently trash what is morally right and it’s tiring to listen to. I’ve been fed up with it since 9/11 when they told me America overreacted, and this was before Iraq. If there is a position that is wrong, I can count on them to take it they are such a group of socialists. I can only take so much USA bashing and am now done with them. I just won’t go anymore.
I couldn’t figure these relationships out because I wasn’t born socially gifted like others. Being an introvert, I do have powers of observation and body language skills I’ve had to develop to determine friend or foe. It also helps me determine who is going to waste my time or try to get me to do shit I don’t want to do anymore. Now, I say no.
Supportive relationships have been shown to buffer stress, boost resilience, and improve physical and mental health.
Aversive relationships have been shown to amplify stress, diminish resilience, and damage physical and mental health.
You might think that because ambivalent relationships feel middle-of-the-road, their impact on your life would be similarly neutral. But in fact, multiple studies have shown that their effect is significantly and uniformly negative, and that “ambivalent relationships not only are less effective at helping individuals cope with stress but also may be sources of stress themselves.”
Studies have found that your blood pressure goes up more when you interact with someone with whom you have an ambivalent relationship, than it does when you interact with someone with whom you have a supportive relationship. Even just anticipating interacting with an ambivalent tie triggers a greater increase in heart rate and blood pressure. Researchers speculate that this heightened stress response is due to the unpredictability of an ambivalent relationship: Are you going to enjoy your time with this person or are you going to get in a fight? Are you going to have fun or just feel annoyed? Are they going to be supportive or critical?
We might hypothesize a couple other reasons that cardiovascular reactivity increases when interacting with ambivalent ties.
One is the greater exercise of self-control you have to muster during one of these interactions; you have to check yourself from rolling your eyes, showing signs of your boredom or frustration, offering an overly harsh rebuttal to an opinion you strongly disagree with — and this takes effort. The heightened stress response experienced around ambivalent ties may also be due to the psychic split you feel over whether you even want to be hanging out with this person at all. You don’t dread seeing them the way you might the dentist, but you don’t really look forward to seeing them, either. The interaction feels more compulsory than voluntary, more obligatory than willful, and we feel a measure of frustration when we don’t experience ourselves as fully autonomous and have to do things that are contrary to our personal desires. (This is how I almost always feel anymore. I have to work up to want to go out with someone and want to know when it will end so I know when I can leave. There are very few I look forward to seeing anymore. Most people who think we are friends don’t know that we aren’t).
Here’s the really surprising thing: blood pressure not only rises more when you’re interacting with an ambivalent tie versus a supportive one, it also rises more when you’re interacting with an ambivalent tie than it does when you’re interacting with an aversive one. In other words, you feel more stressed when interacting with someone you like/dislike, than you do when interacting with someone you entirely dislike.
I end it by saying not for me. The trouble is in the interaction with people. When I just don’t, my blood pressure is better and any stress over socializing is avoided.
I’d rather not talk to them, especially the majority of those I’m related to. I like the pets though.
Two nights ago, LeBron laid on the floor after being breathed on too hard to fake a foul. It’s a well known NBA joke about him laying down on the job like this.
While the following is sarcasm, I’ve seen soccer (Futball) players lay down and no one got near either them or the part they were clutching.
I’ve been beaned by fastballs, decked by a football hit, fought against Blackbelts in Karate, Judo and Ju-Jitsu. You get hurt and get up. Win the right way, not by faking or lying.
These guys are better actors than the Hollywood celebtards who aren’t working very hard either. When we were growing up (listen to the old person here talking like an old person), We got back up after being hit and said nothing. These guys are p*****s.
Monday morning light humor
This is easy for me as I get older. Put anything on TV and it’s over now. I can be surfing the net and wake up wondering how long it has been.
Wear out kids and they are gone in the car on the way home. All it takes for me is to not already be asleep now and I can pull it off.
The thing that is great about it is that I love naps so I’m not bothered by it at all.
Of course it was the smallest kid in the house.