Random OKC Metro Ramblings

All those out-of-state or metro readers, please indulge me on this one. First out of the chute is the robbery at the Nichols Hills Cleaners of an "undisclosed amount of money" recently. For those not familiar with the cleaners' location, it's in the "ghetto part of Nichols Hills", in the Plaza (owned by Chesapeake) and directly across from the Nichols Hills Police Department. Are we safe at the salon, are we brave enough to go to the boutiques? If our noses are up in the air, then how can we spot robbers? Rumor has it, the police were tied up out giving tickets to people that had the gall to park a pickup truck in their Nichols Hills driveway.

Point number two — recently, four restaurants have closed on the Memorial Street corridor from MacArthur to Penn. That only leaves about 30 or so left. (Ha!) Oklahomans are a fickle lot — they know what they like and don't like. National chains do well sometimes, and often they are surprised that they don't pass the local muster. Barbeque is a strange animal, being that Okies consume a LOT of it. Smokey Bones (went out), Tony Roma's (went out two different times). Besides, didn't he have any old family Italian recipes to share with us instead of being a BBQ poacher? We like our BBQ from guys like Leo, Earl or George, who you know was up at night stoking the smoker. Carrabas never took off, but Bravo's is doing fine. Cheeseburger in Paradise was slow and mediocre but hey, everybody loves Jimmy Buffett (we forgive him because we know he wasn't running the darn thing anyway).

Lastly, all the TV stations are Johnny on the spot to cover a story (block the way at the scene, probably), but why if the "story" happens at 9 or 10 a.m. do they have a reporter standing in the same place at 10 p.m. (dark, so they have to have lights) reporting this story which is old news by now, because our interest is fixated on some other story that happened in the last 12 HOURS. If our legal system was better, then the perpetrators could be caught and had their trial by the late newscast.

Check out the Oklahoma League for the Blind — it's a fascinating story about what all they do and manufacture. Pretty awesome what these people are able to accomplish.

Chick-Fil-A is open in Moore now. Does that make Moore a Big League City???

Postal Service (the dysfunctional family of bureaucracy) Needs More $$$$

The Ray Charles commemorative stamp is singing "It's Crying Time Again" for the US Postal Service, so get on your raincoats and waders...

As the pompous head of this mish-mosh testified before Congress (another dysfunctional family) with his glasses slipped down to the end of his nose, and looking over them at the panel, "With the rise in electronic communications driving profound and permanent changes in the MAIL MIX as we entered the new century, it became clear that this model was being rendered obsolete."

Wow! That's worth his hefty retirement package right there. The "model" he refers to looks like a model (car, airplane, train) put together by a young lad with glue that he's sniffed way, way too much of in an enclosed room.

The first thing that comes to mind is that every post office has four to six slots for customer service inside, but there are usually only two of them open at any given time. I challenge you to go into any metro post office and find the slots all being manned. The USPS (United States Postal Service) has 37,000 facilities with two or more slots open per place (or one if it's a two-holer service desk). These don't include the 400 large special-purpose mail processing plants used as sorting centers. USPS has 220,000 motor vehicles (of which many are driven from the wrong side — not too swift for resale value).

Let's look at the "model" further, my friend. They sell, stock and inventory a lot of "stuff", crap or junk. I realize they need to sell mailing supplies, but why pre-inked rubber stamps? What's the deal with games, puzzles, stuffed animals, NASCAR paraphernalia, books (let people go to Barnes & Noble or their local bookstore), a plethora of stamp collecting stuff (Hobby Lobby or the local stamp store might wonder why their tax dollars are competing with them), or all these bazillion different stamps of all prices?

Think about it — if there is $1,000 worth of all this inventory at every one of the 37,000 locations, that equates to $37 MILLION dollars of inventory just lying around gathering dust. All this crap needs to be bought at the Dollar Tree, not the post office. One of the post office's main functions used to be to display pictures of America's Most Wanted, but they don't even do that good anymore.

Do the postmen still wear pith helmets? Plus, the fashion police are "on the case" with those knee-high black tube sock thingies.

Hey wait — I just found an Elvis stamp with his hair not greased up. It must be a collector's item worth a zillion dollars! I'll donate it to the USPS if they just won't disappear to the back when it's finally my turn at the counter. 

I received a letter with a Kwanzaa stamp on it last July — what's the deal with that???

You Think "It's Just Girl Scout Cookies"

This time of year, each and every year for over five decades, a plague worse than the one spread by those pesky Keebler elves, is when the market is flooded by Girl Scout cookies. The little lasses are at your workplace, in front of Wal-Mart, at church, at sporting events, or even door-to-door (your front door). Peanut butter, pecan sandies, chocolate chips, and the "heroin or crack cocaine" of cookies — chocolate mint! Most people slip those buggers in the fridge to put a cool chill on the chocolate mint.

These girls selling, distributing or shilling those taste treats were whipped into a frenzy with hopes of winning sales prizes, personal accolades or Troop Supremacy of the Western World (which now is international). 

What you don't realize as you reach for your wallet is that this is a carefully orchestrated plot by a Star Chamber of women MLMs (multi-level marketers), put in place years ago (could have been part of the women's movement) for subversive training. Womatrons representing Arbonne, Tupperware, Pampered Chef, Avon, Home Interior, Sarah Coventry, Lingerie Lady, Mary Kay, Paula's Purses, Noni Juice, Prime America, or the big dog — Amway — all gathered in a secret spot to put together this coup d'état of the Girl Scouts to incubate little sample soldiers for their cause. The location of this meeting is not known for sure, and the only clues are: (1) it's at a really cool full-blown spa, and (2) it's in the close radius of some of the US of A's "prime shopping" areas.

They all realized a happy face, quality product and cute uniform would teach these lassies how to "ask for the order" without much of an opportunity for rejection. Just count on the fingers of one hand how many times you've said "no." Over the years, you've probably said no unless by chance two Scouts in a row tagged you.

So, my friend, I'm warning you — if you buy those cookies from her today, it's like getting a dollar sign stamped on your forehead. She put you in her internal database for the rest of your natural-born days. I hope you need make-up, vitamins or a really, really expensive set of cooking pots, because you're now like a deer in the headlights!

As the plot thickens, my friends, red-white-and-blue-adorned Camp Fire Girls start the second surge upon us, with the annual candy sale drive. Do you see a pattern, anyone??? Oh, well — pass those coconut cookies — they're my favorite....

Let's Put the Lid on the Big Bowl

Well, sports fans, I'm writing this before the HUGE BCS championship game. Having this on Thursday night is a heart-wrenching exercise of conflict — not the game, but not being able to watch Grey's Anatomy live (some "former wives" told their spouses to DVR the game).

To get to this point, we had 34 Bowl games. Two things you didn't know before are 34 Bowl games and Oklahoma has 96 Indian casinos, of which none have a "Sports Book" to place a bet on any of these games. Probably somewhere there is a guy doing "free seminars" at the Holiday Inn for you to buy his DVDs and tapes on "How to Be a Successful Bookie" (testimonials on request).

Back on subject — you've been Oranged, Sugared, Papa Johned, Meineked, Emeriled, Gatored, and Chik-Fil-A-ed into a lathered-up frenzy. Except the Sun Bowl with Oregon State vs. Pittsburgh, whose score was 3-0 (even Gatorade was ashamed that they didn't just pour a cup on the winning coach), where they missed the coach with the water cooler.

I have three suggestions for Bowl season:

1. They need to have the eHarmony Bowl, where a man and a woman meet online to get their tickets, plus be paired up. A long date of pre-game, going to the game together, and then an after-activity of their mutual choice. A lot can be ascertained this way — did he ignore her, or she him? Did he or she have to explain the game during a good part? Did they behave like little ladies and gentlemen? Remember, after any knock-down, please go back to your respective corners...
2. Banning of all E.D. commercials during the games. Most guys over 25 are wishing they were young and back playing football themselves, not just watching it. Even if you have a "problem of extending past four hours", nobody is going to the hospital until the game is over.
3. We need the "Little People's Bowl" because they deserve to play just like anyone else.

I hope you got a Slingin' Sammy Bradford shirt with his name written in Cherokee (rumor has it, you can walk across hot coals with one) or the Tim Tebow Towel, which lets you walk on water, plus it soaks up 10 times more than a normal chamois. 

Don't mourn the end of the Bowl season too much — "March Madness" is closer than you think!

To Bowl or Not to Bowl

Once again, we made it through "The Bowl Season". The Bowl Season is a plot put forth by the merchants and the women of the world. Ingenious ploy; give those males what they want — football, football, FOOTBALL — plus, throw in food and cheerleaders. It's like hooking a five-pound bass.

What do the women get in return? Trips to places they wouldn't normally go, like San Diego, Miami, Hawaii, New Orleans, Nashville and Scottsdale (all in the winter, after becoming a crazy, shrieking banshee after holiday gatherings). Guess what? Nice hotels (you don't make the bed), great food (you don't have to cook or clean up), and the BIG "S" (shopping at after-Christmas prices everywhere). Lovely ladies shopping everywhere, and those men didn't even know what hit them — BCS is code for "Babes Can Shop"! Whether your husband's team (theoretically, your team, too) wins or loses, you've made out like a bandit. 

Even if you don't get to go to a Bowl location, women have the home-field advantage. They throw out every easy-made (bad for you, but mass quantities are consumed watching the commercials) food they can think of from "Recipes Gone Wild". Women then get you to invite one of your buds, or maybe your wing-man and his wife, over for a Bowl game — and the next time you look up, the wives are gone to Gordman's or Penn Square.

Bowl shopping has its own scoring system. If the MSRP (car lingo) or original price is $120, then you get a 33% mark-down, then another price reduction of 25% for the Red Tag price, plus use your 20% off coupon and another 10% if you use their charge card... Are you with me? If you went shopping during a Bowl game, they probably still owe YOU money or merchandise. 

You still have time — the Super Bowl isn't until February 1st. Heck, you only have until Valentine's Day before all offers are void where prohibited.