Movies Are Supposed To Be Fun
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen Fits the Bill
June 30, 2009

I haven’t gone to a movie theater since . . . I can’t even remember. I think the last movie I watched in a real theater was Revenge of the Sith, in 2005.

I don’t have an issue with the quality of movies today, it’s all about personal budgets. Movies in theaters are expensive. Consider the cost of gas; wear-and-tear on the car; outrageous ticket prices combined with outrageous popcorn and drink prices; medical costs after catching swine flu from someone in the theater; the screaming little shit in row 3; the cell-phone text addict in row 14; and the nose-dead female in row 24 who believes she should introduce the whole world to the odor of cheap perfume.

But there I was anyway, standing in line at the theater waiting to watch Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. What was I doing in a movie theater? Circumstances beyond my control . . . the tickets were a birthday present from Sondra.

Not that I wasn’t looking forward to the second Transformers movie. After all, how many chances does anyone get to watch Megan Fox overflowing her clothes in slow motion on the big screen? Who cares if she can act? Optimus Prime is a better actor than Megan Fox, but let’s avoid the old “apples to oranges” comparison. Oh, sorry. I know the average critic will find my reference to “apples and oranges,” and Megan Fox in the same paragraph as being vulgar - typical for a critic.

Many nationally known movie critics came out openly against this movie. They said it was too loud, too vulgar, too fast, too long, too suggestive, too socially un-redeeming and basically pointless.

Critics. Do we really need these idiots? Here is a movie that grossed something like 387 million dollars worldwide in 5 days, breaking the all-time record for a movie opening and proving that most critics don’t know their ass from a matrix? We should ignore these self-proclaimed movie critics.

This movie was great. Great on a level that eludes most movie critics who fail to understand the fundamental reason people watch movies in the first place - to have fun. This movie was all about fun. Kids had fun watching the transformers. Military enthusiasts had fun watching the soldiers with advanced weaponry. Male viewers had fun watching Megan Fox oozing what looked like Vaseline from her lips. Nerds had fun watching the special effects including a female robot they’ll all be fantasizing about for the next six months. Female viewers had fun watching Shia LaBeouf. NASCAR enthusiasts had fun watching the transformer cars. I could go on and on.

The only people who didn’t think the movie was fun are the critics and old, right-wing conservative Republicans who believe we should banish Transformers from Earth; Megan Fox should be banned from all public media for being too provocative; mothers shouldn’t talk or behave like the one in the movie; God will defeat the Decepticons without any human help; and our children should be reading bibles, not Transformer comics. I think we need fewer critics, fewer right-wing conservative Republicans, and more movies like this one.

Even though movies-for-two at the theater can easily run $40 for a one-time shot compared to unlimited viewing of a DVD in the comfort of your living room for $16.95, I can’t wait for the third Transformers movie to be released. With any luck I’ll get to see that one in a theater too. Screw the critics. It’s one thing to be nominated for an Academy Award (the critics are really into that); but quite another to garner sincere appreciation from theater-goers. At the end of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, the crowd in the theater erupted with cheers and applause. I haven’t heard applause like that in a movie theater since aliens blew up the White House in Independence Day.

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Michael Jackson Moonwalks Out
June 26, 2009

On June 25, 2009, Michael Jackson took his final roller coaster ride into Neverland. He leaves behind a truly awesome musical legacy and scores of mysteries about his life. Did he or didn’t he? The world seems obsessed with knowing.

Did Michael really pop little boys? Did Michael even pop Lisa Marie? He was after all, the purported King of Pop. Did he suffer from skin ailments and breathing problems, or did he just want to be white? Who or what were “Hee-Hee” and “Who-Who,” and why did he wear the glove? What kind of pain constantly caused him to begin screaming in the middle of a song? Why did he always grab his genitals on stage? Is that where the pain was? Who was the mother of his third child? Did he really convert to Islam?

Questions, questions and more questions. Was Michael that messed up in the head or was it all for publicity? Personally, I don’t care. Let future generations debate whether or not the U.S. postal service should use the “old” or the “young” picture of Michael Jackson on a postage stamp. Here is how I remember Michael.

I remember being pretty full of myself when I learned how to imitate Michael’s moonwalk. I remember incredible music videos like Billie Jean, Beat It, Thriller and Smooth Criminal. Those weren’t the only good ones, just the ones that come to mind first. I remember watching We Are The World over and over just to see the short Michael Jackson segment. I remember The Wiz, and I remember all the times I convinced new friends to watch it. I remember Michael giving me the song You Are Not Alone, to call my all-time favorite.

I remember wishing I could dance like Michael. I remember being near death in a hospital on August 31, 1987, my only thoughts being how much I would miss my wife and children . . . and my disappointment that I might not be around to watch the national television premier of Bad.

I remember Michael proving he was not really Janet in disguise when they both appeared on stage after the rumors circulated. I remember sensing his child-like innocence always there just below the surface, even after he grew up. I remember crazy costumes; controversial family members; and his brilliantly captivating, live on-stage performance at the 25th Motown Anniversary show. Damn, he was good.

I remember being one of the first in line whenever a new Michael Jackson music video came out. Most of all though, I remember how energized I felt every single time I listened to Michael sing or watched him in one of his music videos. Michael could get people pumped up and happy for hours, just from watching him or listening to one of his songs. Michael was naturally and beautifully talented and all controversial circumstances and events aside, Michael really was “The King of Pop” for most of my life.

A new contender will certainly attempt to claim the title of “King” in the music world, but the newcomer will never be the King of “Pop.” That honor is locked up forever by Michael Jackson. He earned it.

We are the world . . . and the world will miss Michael Jackson . . . I know I will.

Thanks Michael, for all the good times (and teaching me how to moonwalk).

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McDonalds Trashes Traditional Motherhood
June 10, 2009

You can’t depend on mommy any more. Don’t panic though; McDonalds is picking up the slack. Just look at their new subliminal advertising campaign. On the front of the McDonalds hot apple pie box it says, “Mom didn’t have time today so we made you this baked apple pie.”

Mom didn’t have time? For her own kids? Is McDonalds outing your mom? This all seems somehow wrong, but I’m impressed nonetheless by the McDonalds approach. McDonalds has decided to stand in for all the mommies who don’t have time for their kids any more. Better yet, McDonalds has decided to expose kids to the realities of life.

This could turn into a refreshing trend. After McDonalds convinces everyone they can’t depend on their mother any more, the next step is to kill the Santa Claus, Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy myths. Then McDonalds can continue their lets be honest campaign by killing more nonsensical fantasies like you can accomplish anything if you put your mind to it. From a practical viewpoint, McDonalds can ask kids questions like, “If everyone is equal, why do they all get different grades in school?”

McDonalds should take this reality campaign one step further and turn it into a game. On the back of McDonalds apple pie boxes they should print a list with little check boxes showing the ways mommy prefers to spend her time. Kids could check off the statements that best describe their own moms. There could be 20 different lists. Kids would have to purchase tons of McDonalds apple pies to collect all the different lists. They could take the boxes to school for show-and-tell and compare their own lazy mother to their friends’ lazy mothers.

McDonalds could even publish a special page at their Internet site where kids would suggest new additions to the lists. Weekly winners would be awarded (you guessed it) a coupon good for one free McDonalds hot apple pie if ordered with a happy meal.

Let me be the first to suggest a few entries for the list. Here goes. Mommy doesn’t have time for you because:

• You are not as important as American Idol, Dancing with the Stars or mommy’s favorite soap opera.
• Mommy doesn’t function properly since her cell phone attached itself permanently to her ear.
• Mommy is too busy painting her nails and face so she can go shopping for shoes.
• Mommy never learned how to cook, and never wanted to because she’s lazy.
• Your uncle Bob monopolizes all of mommy’s time (don’t tell your dad).
• Mommy is too busy cruising bars looking for a dad, or at least a free drink.
• Mommy’s microwave oven is broken, so it’s either McDonalds or cold hot dogs.
• Mommy never wanted you in the first place. She just forgot to take her pill.

This is fun. I could go on and on but the kids can take it from here. Once they understand mommy doesn’t have time for them, they will be better prepared to accept the fact that mommy won’t pay their college tuition; they’re out on their ass at age 18; and you can’t depend on a woman. The paradigm shift alone will generate years of debate by psychologists and countless new varieties of therapy.

McDonalds will become known as everyone’s mommy and the world will turn into a happier place (with McDonalds serving up all the happy meals). Lazy mothers everywhere will finally shed the unreasonable responsibility for cooking at home and McDonalds stock holders will smile all the way to the bank. Everyone wins except of course, the kids. But who cares about the kids anyway, besides McDonalds (as long as somebody keeps paying for all those hot baked apple pies)?

There is one potential problem McDonalds overlooked. McDonalds faces a deluge of discrimination lawsuits for picking on mommy, but not daddy. I recommend strongly they print a companion box that suggests daddy doesn’t have time for you. Because in all reality, daddy doesn’t have time for the kids either. Kids should be entitled to a choice. A derogatory mommy apple pie box, or a derogatory daddy apple pie box. In some cases we might even need a derogatory granny apple pie box.

There is no shortage of reasons for the back of the daddy apple pie box either. Daddy doesn’t have time for you because:

• Daddy prefers to spend his spare time looking at pornography on the Internet.
• Daddy doesn’t function properly since his cell phone attached itself permanently to his ear.
• Daddy would rather spend quality time with his adult buddies than with you.
• Daddy never learned how to cook because real men don’t cook.
• Daddy has more fun playing video games by himself than playing anything with you.
• Your uncle Bob monopolizes all of daddy’s time (don’t tell anybody).
• Daddy is too busy cruising bars looking for hot tender chicks (sometimes called chicken tenders).
• Daddy’s microwave oven is broken, so it’s either McDonalds or leftover hot wings from the local bar.
• Daddy never wanted you in the first place. You happened along because mommy forgot to take her pill.

Looking at the current state of affairs in American society and the breakdown of the traditional American family, this whole McDonalds theme gives new depth of meaning to the old phrase, As American as apple pie.

Burger King should pay close attention to the mommy doesn’t love you any more messages from McDonalds. If Burger King management is clever, they will counter this insidious McDonalds attack on American motherhood with a campaign of their own. The Burger King hot apple pie box can say, “Mommy asked us to give you this apple pie because she loves you.” That’s right. Free apple pies to children under 12 who are loved by their mommies. Do you think anyone would show up? I do. And Burger King needs the business. Compared to McDonalds, Burger King hasn’t been doing so good lately.

As a matter of fact, when Burger King starts giving free hot apple pies to children under 12 who are loved by their mommies, I will buy a few shares of Burger King common stock to go with my Mcdonalds common stock. How could I possibly resist stock in a company that gives away free love at the drive-through?

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ATTENTION Walmart Executives
June 7, 2009

For years I wondered why I succumb to impulse buying at Harris Teeter. Even when I go there with a very short shopping list of gourmet items I can’t find anywhere else, I end up coming out with 20 or 30 items that weren’t on my list. I can’t afford to shop at Harris Teeter like that. Their prices are so incredibly high I never understood how they stay in business at all. But they do.

I do my best to stay away from Harris Teeter, knowing in advance what will happen. Where else though, can I possibly find decent rhubarb, fresh-caught Alaska salmon or shallots? Common sense (and my wallet) tells me I should buy most of my groceries at Walmart where they cost a lot less.

Why Walmart? Well, Walmart is (or was) sort of my . . . Mecca. They got it right with the “everything in one place” concept. Why shop at three or four different stores when almost everything I need is at Walmart for less money? Hi. My name is Leon. I am a Walmartaholic. But for the last few years the intoxication has been wearing thin.

Why? Because every time I go into any Walmart, I walk out of the store incredibly agitated. Ten minutes into a Walmart visit I can’t wait to get out of there. It isn’t the long checkout lines because I’m already fuming before I ever reach the checkout counter. It isn’t the bad lighting because lighting is terrible almost everywhere but I’m never cranky anywhere else; just in Walmart.

Imagine becoming intensely angry and not knowing why. It happens to women all the time but I can explain that. When a woman can’t figure out why she’s angry or unhappy it’s either 28 days since the last time that happened; she’s discovered her husband is spending money for pornography on the Internet; or she’s just not getting enough hugs.

It is different for a man. A man gets out of sorts from insufficient sex, high gas prices or a woman who nags him incessantly. But at least a man knows the cause of his agitation. A man who can’t figure out why he’s angry is mired in a dangerous mental predicament. Because a man is supposed to know. A man is supposed to be in control.

Then came the day, about six months ago I stormed out of a Walmart feeling like I should run over somebody in the parking lot; or at least one of their shopping carts. I had abandoned my empty shopping cart in the middle of the produce section. If the old fart at the entrance had said “have a nice day” to me on the way out I would probably have cussed him out. Even then, I couldn’t figure out what set me off.

Driving home from Walmart and thinking, “screw Walmart; I’m going to Harris Teeter,” the lights suddenly and finally came on. The reason someone will sooner or later go postal in a Walmart and take out a number of innocent customers, a checkout clerk, the old fart at the entrance or possibly all of them at once is your god-damned, squeaky; bumpy; drag to the right; drag to the left; rattling and vibrating; lock up and stop dead in the middle of the aisle; hard to push, wobbly, piece of crap shopping carts.

These unwieldy, crippled carts make shopping at Walmart a wholly frustrating experience. It isn’t just the occasional cart. Every Walmart shopping cart I’ve used for two or three years suffered some type of malady or handicap that made it difficult or in some cases impossible to push around. It had been staring me in the face for years and I hadn’t noticed.

Nobody is taking care of the carts at Walmart. That causes a significant drain on Walmart’s bottom line. Because I don’t go to Walmart to work out. I go to Walmart to shop (and check out the chicks). But the cart that should contribute to a pleasant shopping experience forces me to work out. I refuse to work out in a Walmart. I’ll just buy my roasted chicken for supper and finish my shopping at Harris Teeter. Can you believe it? Forced to go bankrupt at Harris Teeter by a Walmart handicapped shopping cart.

20 minutes later at Harris Teeter I paid special attention to the cart that greeted me at the entrance. I was vindicated. This sleek and sexy, dark-colored shopping cart rolled so smoothly into the store I barely had to push it. I couldn’t believe it. I went back and tested another cart at random. It was just as good as the first cart. Mind you, these are not new shopping carts but somebody is obviously treating them with tender loving care. A shopper doesn’t become exhausted pushing them around or contract carpal-tunnel syndrome from constantly forcing them to roll in a straight line.

Unlike a Walmart cart, you can fill a Harris Teeter cart all the way to the top (or even more) and it just glides along as smoothly as it did when empty. Now I know why I always see so many half-full abandoned shopping carts littering the aisles at Walmart. It's because the weight caused them to lock up in place and the shoppers pushing them just got mad and left. Imagine how someone feels when their car breaks down in the middle of an intersection. No difference.

I was reminded of every single time I’ve tried three or four carts at Walmart only to “settle” on one that at least rolled straight even if it took three or four horsepower to push and sounded like a car with a flat tire driving on a rim. My daughter admits to being embarrassed in Walmart most of the time because our shopping cart makes so much noise.

Walmart; if you don’t think a sleazy, obstinate shopping cart can piss off a customer and curtail his or her impulse buys, you’d better hire a good psychologist to explain it to you. Management is supposed to know that “impulse” buying probably adds more to your bottom line than the shopping list buying. Right now, all my impulse buying is reserved for Harris Teeter and Trader Joe’s where the shopping carts care enough to make me happy while I shop.

I’m not just theorizing here. For the past five months, my daughter and I (avid people watchers) have observed people intently wherever we shop. There is no doubt that the happiest, most impulse-buying customers populate the stores with the best shopping carts. If Harris Teeter had Walmart shopping carts, Harris Teeter would have folded long ago.

Walmart faces any number of potential disasters caused by cart rage. Customers “settle” for things that aren’t as good or as much as they want because in all reality they don’t have much choice. But they don’t like it and eventually one or more of them is bound to go over the edge. That someone might be a person who can’t control his or her temper. Walmart has the highest potential risk because Walmart causes more cart rage than any other store I know of.

So wake up Walmart executives. Spend some money on cart maintenance and quality assurance. The money you invest in your carts will be returned many times over to your bottom line by happy customers who desire to shop instead of working out. If you don’t address this problem soon, the first sign of impending disaster will be the dead carts in your parking lot that were run over by irate customers. When that happens, you had better start stocking up on body armor for your employees.

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Tammy Bruce – Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!
June 1, 2009

This past weekend during my weekly pilgrimage to Walmart, I was treated to a barrage of bitching on the car radio by a talk show hostess seemingly on the verge of a nervous breakdown because president Obama flew to New York for a "date night."

This obviously hysterical woman claimed it was somehow inappropriate for Obama to spend taxpayer money attending a show in New York, while at the same time U.S. automobile companies are filing for bankruptcy. I know. To any rational person this is quite a stretch. She whined on and on, suggesting Obama should have attended a show in Washington D.C., or not have attended a show at all.

I was reminded of a fried-brain alcoholic who rambles on endlessly about some totally inconsequential matter while nobody really listens. I waited patiently for a commercial break so I could discover who this miserably unhappy woman might be. It turned out to be Tammy Bruce. Tammy Bruce? Who the hell is Tammy Bruce? I never heard of Tammy Bruce.

Listening to Bruce for several minutes, I could only imagine her peeping through a hole in the White House bathroom wall to see how many sheets of toilet paper Obama uses after a number two. Following Bruce’s logic, the president should be limited to four sheets of toilet paper per shit until the U.S. auto industry recovers. Which means of course the 4-sheet limit for shit might last forever.

I had arrived at Walmart. Enough Bruce. Hopefully, when I got back to the car something more interesting than Bruce might be on; like the annual Public Radio fund drive or a Carbonite commercial. When I got back to the car though; Bruce was still ranting and raving, this time about some woman named Susan Boyle. Susan Boyle? Who the hell is Susan Boyle? I never heard of Susan Boyle.

I was starting to feel uncomfortably out of touch with current events. According to Bruce, Susan Boyle is an old, ugly woman with an above average voice who lost a talent contest in England that very evening. Upset with the contest outcome, Bruce directed several insults in general at the British people. I thought we were only allowed to do that to the French. Michael Savage is carrying the "insult the British" baton right now.

Maybe the British Prime Minister should add Bruce's name to England's "hate promoter" list, just under the name of Michael Savage. Anyway, Bruce was so incensed over the contest winners that she even made derogatory comments about one of the female judges who (according to Bruce) looked like she had Botox injected lips.

The Botox comments are naturally attributable to feminine (or should I say feminist) jealousy. I'm sure Bruce never had any of her personal photographs enhanced by Photoshop for a book cover or her Internet site. Sure. What a sterling example of an avowed feminist hanging in there with her female sisterhood (unless one of them looks more attractive).

From a psychological standpoint, Bruce has serious mental issues. She took me on a strange journey from a "date night" in New York to an inconsequential talent contest in England; with a voyeuristic layover in Obama’s bathroom. I felt a sudden compulsion to warn everyone I know about Tammy Bruce. Time is precious, and I cringe at the prospect of my readers wasting that precious time listening to Bruce’s distorted perceptions of life and politics.

When I got home I searched for Bruce at Wikipedia. The short article about her was sufficient to paint a sad portrait of a confused, tortured feminist who can't make up her mind and couldn’t even keep her job with the California chapter of the National Organization for Women (NOW). Wow, a shunned woman. I suppose that is almost like a scorned woman and we all know the old saying about scorned women . . .

I dislike Tammy Bruce. She is a feminist. Strike one. She can’t decide whether she is a Democrat or a Republican. Having once declared herself a “lifelong Democrat,” she now donates money to Republicans. That makes her a liar. Strike two. She is over 40 and allegedly gay. A conservative Republican would declare that strike three. I just add it as a point to consider. But the fact that she would donate money to Republicans who essentially believe she is mentally defective because of her sexual orientation means she is stupid. Strike three.

So what about Susan Boyle? Apparently Susan suffered an emotional breakdown yesterday serious enough to land her in a clinic. I figure she couldn't take the pressure of Bruce calling her old and ugly. Who wants to hear something like that about themselves on the radio? Bruce even assured radio listeners that Boyle would have a successful career even though she lost the contest. Tammy is obviously out of touch with reality. She is a radio show commentator, not an expert on  the entertainment business.

In my opinion, the judging in the British talent contest was absolutely fair. To be sure, Boyle has an above average singing voice but she was no match for the winning act; a group of extraordinarily gifted high-energy dancers/steppers named Diversity. They won and they deserved to win. No, I’m not making that up; I watched all of their contest performances on YouTube. If Bruce thinks Boyle is so fantastic, she should underwrite an album of Boyle's songs. The net profit from album sales probably wouldn't cover a small cup of latte at Starbucks.

Get real, Tammy. Lots of women can sing. The mere fact that someone you think is fat and ugly happens to have a decent voice is no reason to give her extra consideration in a talent contest. Had I heard Boyle singing without ever having seen her, I don’t think I’d be pulling out my wallet for an album of her songs. Her physical appearance doesn't matter one way or another. This is about "voice" and "talent," not looks. You, Tammy Bruce, made it an issue of appearance.

For the record, I don't believe Susan Boyle is either ugly or fat. I reserve those characterizations for Rush Limbaugh. No woman is ugly. Nature never figured out how to create a woman that way. Ugly is only in the mind of the beholder.

Obama can spend all the money he wants while the auto industry fails. Obama isn’t using taxpayer money for his expenses anyway. He’s just having the money printed up as he needs it. Obama didn’t cause the failure of the U.S. auto industry any more than he can prevent it. Why should he give up his "date nights" to support union excesses, inferior engineering, lack of executive vision and greed? At least he's still dating his wife. But you wouldn't know anything about a man loyal to his wife, would you Tammy?

Our country is facing major issues and challenges. Bruce, in the guise of a political commentator chooses to bitch instead about some stupid talent contest in England. As I hinted before; don’t waste your precious time tuning in to Bruce, and don’t waste precious Internet bandwidth downloading her podcasts if she ever gets them going.

If you are a Democrat drawn towards mediocrity who agrees or sympathizes with Bruce, send her a few spare sheets of your toilet paper. That way she can pretend people actually care and she can wipe her behind (or her mouth) with donated toilet paper that wasn’t procured with taxpayer money she thinks would be better spent on the failing U.S. auto industry. Maybe the executives at talk radio should go even further to accommodate Bruce's political views by cancelling her show and using the money they save to promote a "Buy American Cars" advertising campaign. That would probably make Bruce serenely happy and would certainly brighten my day.

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11/7/08 – The New Republican Game – “Finger The Scapegoat”
10/28/08 – Doctor Leon Endorses John McCain for President
9/12/08 – Democratic Party Prepares for Obama Crucifixion
8/13/08 – Solutions for America’s Challenges
8/11/08 – Owen Frager Takes a Stab at Blackmail
8/10/08 – Barack Hussein Obama vs. John McCain vs. Paris (Hot) Hilton
3/11/08 – Democrat Game Rules May Change
3/9/08 – Off the Record
2/10/08 – Republican Party Murdered by Rush Limbaugh & Sean Hannity

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