Starbucks has become the industry standard for coffee connoisseurs nationwide and I am no less fond of it than the next person. Despite their extensive menu of coffees, teas, and other confections, I still request what is known as a black eye, a coffee with two extra shots of espresso. Yes, it's quite the concoction and I've asked clients before if they've ever seen a flying Scandinavian. When they reply 'No', I just tell them to keep their eye on me after I've had a couple of Starbucks black eyes and they'll see what I'm talking about. It is awfully good coffee but I do have a couple of suggestions to better cater to the urban redneck type, as small town America is typically devoid of any such establishments. For example, Starbucks could branch out beyond the eclectic music selections they offer to reach more of their loyal coffee fans like me who buy just the coffee because none of their other stuff interests me. No offense to Sarah McLaughlin or to Ray Charles but where is the occasional Metallica CD at Starbucks? They play music like they're pretty amped up on coffee (and for that matter, Metallica hails from the infamously liberal Bay area) so it would seem to be a good fit. I do recognize that Starbucks likes to present that hip, eclectic image but lets give some love to the red-state mentality too. We still love your coffee Starbucks and it's sufficiently addictive to bring us all back but the day I see Lynyrd Skynyrd or Toby Keith on your music rack, I'll finally see that you're truly appealing to all your fans. And we will then buy your music with our lattes and coffee cake. Oh, and while I'm in a requesting kind of mood, how about a 'coffee cushion' on your accessory shelf to go along with the mugs and bean grinders? Just like a whoopee cushion but more fashionable, complete with the Starbucks logo and all. I think it would sell like a champ and keep us redneck types happy for hours, long after the coffee cup is empty. Just think about it Starbucks. You're missing the boat with a previously silent portion of your customer demographic and we like your coffee just as much as the tree huggers and stay at home moms do. We'll still show up in pickup trucks instead of hybrid cars or Volkswagens but we'll be as happy as a dog rolling around in a mud puddle if you take my suggestions to heart. Just an urban country boy's two cents worth and until next time..

As something of a frequent traveler, I face a common dilemma or quandary when I return home, that being determination of how edible certain leftovers in the refrigerator may still be. This issue, while not a source of perpetual thought and musing, does bring up a certain need for some so-called industry standards, especially for us guys who, as a gender, are likely to view such things far more liberally. The foundational question is: 'Am I the right person to be making such a bold determination?' After all, I have been known to partake of a piece of a pizza sitting in the box on the coffee table......the morning after it was originally ordered. That was then (college) and this is now so I'll let you be the judge America as to whether I'm on target or just crying over spoiled milk. All that being said, here's what I propose so all you germophobes out there beware!

Item 1: Milk. Lumps and odors that singe nostril hairs should give you a pretty good sign that the two-week old expiration date actually had some relevance. Furthermore, even if the odor didn't make you pass out but your milk-enhanced coffee seems to bear the taste of low-fat sour cream, you may want to pour yourself another cup.

Item 2: Produce. Fruits and vegetables like bell peppers were never intended to look like prunes so if your produce has experienced substantial shrinkage and/or wrinkling, you may want to offer it up to the trash guy the next time they come around. Also, it may not bear an odor but liquid exudates are acceptable from coffee, not lettuce and no, slimy does not add character. On the flip side, if the apple looks OK, feel free to eat it. Have faith in your refrigerator's crisper drawer.

Item 3: Meats. Ground meats naturally lose some of their red freshness (visually) over time but this does not mean they have necessarily gone bad. Grayish hues in a package of ground beef are perfectly acceptable in the absence of visible mold growth and a quick sniff test should give you all the validation you need to make the final call. Don't underestimate the value of the cooking process either. Pan frying and especially microwaving can effectively stave off any early bacterial growth so, if it smells OK, cook it up and enjoy. This being said, I do recommend fresh meats when cooking for groups or anyone you may want to impress, just to be safe.

Item 4: Cured Meats. Processed or cured meats like ham have been partially preserved so expect them to have better shelf life in the fridge. I can still look at leftover ham from Thanksgiving with a fair amount of confidence but please see the last line from Item 3 above as my token disclaimer before serving it to your friends.

Item 5: Pizza. This is probably the least understood food commodity when it comes to how long it lasts. Often left out because of the cumbersome shape of the box in which it came, pizza is too often the victim of senseless waste when a minute and a half in the microwave will render it perfectly safe to eat. The crust may be like granite but the rest of it is still oh so good..

Item 6: Beer. A few years ago, one of the major beer companies out there started a trend of dating their beer to promote freshness. It's a nice idea but so self-respecting beer drinker should ever, I mean ever, discard an unopened beer because it's sat around for a few weeks. We can thank Louis Pasteur for that America.

Just an urbanized country boy's two cents worth and until next time... 

I have had the great fortune of traveling much of our great country, mostly in the past 5 years or so. I've met a lot of great people, seen some wonderful things, and have also seen a surprising amount of duplication. City names are seemingly as interchangeable as a socket set and that is what is so intriguing about travel; two identical place names might be as different in their theme and feel as night and day. I love that diversity and it creates a lot of opportunity to just sit back and observe. One of the most prolific examples of this is the huge culture gap that exists between the three LA's I've had the chance to visit. Two may be obvious, the first being the original: Tinsel Town, La La Land, you know, Los Angeles. The second is the state of Louisiana, having a complete culture unto itself with its French and Cajun influences unique to the region. The third LA, less commonly known to many outside the area, is Lower Alabama, or the Florida panhandle to those unfamiliar with the first description I used. Each LA has its own trends, sets its own rules to some extent, and has residents who unabashedly embrace these very ideals. I wanted to visit on each briefly, in search of some sort of cultural thread that warrants each being worthy of the title 'LA'.  Los Angeles is of course what it is. Hundreds of miles of freeway, ridiculous traffic, smog, all the stereotypes do somewhat fit. It also has an understated mellow flavor that just exudes California when you get off the beaten path. That is the Los Angeles I recommend, with all the people watching value one could ever expect from even a short weekend trip. The people are different, laid back in a cosmopolitan kind of way, and just the most unique melting pot of culture, ink, and piercings you'll probably ever see. Plus, the weather is nice so there you go. LA number 1. LA #2 is Louisiana. It features a culture that is hard to describe but that certainly goes beyond the general revelry that people associate with Mardi Gras. Consider Louisiana for what it is, a Roman Catholic outpost amidst the predominantly Protestant deep south and you'll start to get a slight feel for the region. Fiercely proud of their heritage and producers of some of the world's best cuisine, the natives have a true flavor all to themselves and it is definitely worth the trip. Last, we have the Lower Alabama 'LA'. A unique mix of US Military personnel and proud southerners, this region is self-described as Lower Alabama by virtue of both proximity and perhaps as an intentional detachment from the more urban and externally influenced southern parts of the state of Florida. True to form, the architecture, climate, and attitude of the locals all reflect the southern heritage, thus making the Florida panhandle hard to distinguish as actually being Florida instead of one of its northern neighbors. Oh, and by the way, the panhandle of Florida has far and away the most beautiful beaches in the state and not near the snowbird presence in the touristy times of year so it is very much worth the trip. Comparatively inaccessible, featuring small regional airports, Lower Alabama is a hidden gem and has a lot to offer. So, the next time someone you meet introduces themselves as being from LA, take the time to ask "Which one?" If nothing else, you'll get a smile in return and probably learn more about that person too. We lead pretty sheltered lives America, even considering how easy it is to communicate with one another, so take the time, make the effort, and we may actually know one another better than before. Just an urbanized country boy's two cents worth and until next time..

Today's world is one of gratuitous bias, be it real or contrived. Not a day goes by where some person or interest group seeks out the media to tell their story of how they were treated unfairly. Some of these stories have some merit and, unfortunately, most are just to grab attention. But that's not really the point of my post. My aim is to address the bias towards certain myths and legends that permeate our consciousness. I was led down this path of thinking when I saw the full moon last night in all its splendor. The default myth of course is that certain afflicted individuals turn into werewolves upon exposure to the full moon. I've never seen a werewolf and really don't aspire to if it can be helped. I also know that other mythical creatures are rarely talked about in the same context. Why this unfounded bias towards the werewolf? What if certain people turned into jackalopes when exposed to the full moon? The jackalope has achieved similar mythical stature as the werewolf and I've actually seen captured jackalopes (Exhibit A: any Longhorn Steakhouse) mounted for display. That would suggest to me that the jackalope is actually more common than the werewolf and may be a frightfully underscored risk for those venturing out on a full moon evening. Let's review some of the facts. A jackalope is a small creature so a person's shapeshift to one would plausibly result in no damage to one's clothes, as might be the case if one turned into a werewolf. A jackalope is widely regarded as being a bit odd but generally harmless so there is no risk of the kind of unsavory activities werewolves are sometimes known for. Add to the mix that people who go out on full moon evenings (especially if it's a weekend) often wake up the next day with headaches. This is also perfectly explicable if one had antlers coming out of their head while carousing around as a jackalope the night before. All I'm saying is that, before we jump the gun and give the werewolf all the credit for weird things that may happen on full moon evenings, let's consider some of the alternatives and give the mighty jackalope the props it deserves too. I'm happy to say that I awoke today with no headache but there were some vegetables in the refrigerator that I didn't remember being there...I may need to keep tabs on this. Just an urbanized country boy's two cents worth and until next time...

I was speaking to a friend earlier today and the subject came up about them doing something exerting. In this discussion, the statement "I was sweating my butt off." came up and it got me to thinking a little bit. I've heard similar references to playing (sports usually) and especially to working. Most of us have heard this kind of terminology and I'd dare venture a guess that most of us also haven't really thought about the significance. How hard does one actually have to work, play, or sweat to actually lose one's butt. I usually associate losing one's butt with a bad string of luck at the casino (and if you're missing your hind end after playing slots last weekend, you may want to seek professional help) but I guess more conventional activities can cause the loss of one's posterior. So, the question comes up, 'Are plumbers the hardest working, playing, and sweating people on the planet?' So it would seem as they are also the most likely to have little of any butt left, only able to show us an unsavory glimpse of what's left of it when they're under the sink. I'm fortunate to still have my butt and I guess there's some sort of genetics at work there. 'Flat Butt Syndrome' or FBS among medical researchers, is something that commonly afflicts some 10-20% of adult men and probably 80-90% of professional plumbers. We've all known somebody with FBS and the natural tendency is to feel some level of sympathy for their loss. I would now contend otherwise. It seems that, based on the common lexicon of our society, FBS is directly correlated with hard work, hard play, and perhaps the sweatiness associated with either of these activities. And neither is to be anything but commended. When was the last time you looked down on someone who was a hard worker and played hard too. It's usually an admirable combination and so, America, I would say embrace your loved ones, friends, or hired professionals who have FBS. It's not the badge of snickering and shame that we once thought it to be. It is a tangible sign of the values that we commonly admire. So, the next time you see butt crack when someone bends over, resist the temptation to either look away or tell them to hike up their pants and instead think to yourself, "Now there's a hard working, hard playing, and sweaty guy." You'll come away with a smile after seeing theirs, trust me. All that being said, I'm still glad I have my butt and I'll take my chances with others' opinions of me. Just an urban country boy's two cents worth and until next time...

This post is designed to offer some insight into the fascination of the male species with sports and athletic competition at the level it was intended for. Don't get me wrong; I love the idea of a good Turkey Bowl pickup football game as much as the next guy but, to those guys who may be reading this, you're lying to say a good aggressive pickup game doesn't leave you sore in paces you didn't even know could be sore. That leads me to my point. For us guys out there (or 'fellers' if you're rooted in the country or just happen to be an avid fan of Git R Done Larry), sport is simply about admiring feats of athletic ability, levels of mental toughness, and just plain old concentration that most of us will never see in ourselves. In short, there is a part of us that wants to be like the athletes we admire. Not in emulating everything they do, mind you. For example, I have no aspiration of looking like a walking ad for a tattoo parlor (ala Alan Iverson) but I sure would love to just once be able to perform his infamous cross over dribble and make a fool out of someone on the basketball court. We flatter our favorite athletes by wearing their jerseys, using the same kind of equipment (especially true in individual sports like golf or tennis), or even mimicking their patterns of behavior. I can honestly say I've tried to perfect the infamous Tiger Woods club twirl after I hit a ball; the downside is that never has this twirl followed a shot that looked anything like what Tiger does in competition. Let's call it the 'hit it in the woods' club twirl and you'll have a better idea of my reality. The point is this. The only reason for doing it in the first place is some part of me wants to be just like Tiger Woods. The rest of me would be perfectly content to be his yacht captain for a couple of days. The same reasoning holds true for most male sports fans. For all of you out there who proudly sport a Shaquille O'Neal jersey (hopefully sized for you and not him) or use the same kind of tennis racket as Andy Roddick, that's that little part of you that wants to be that individual or at least to have their ability, even for the briefest of moments. Our favorite athletes excel at events in which we realized long ago we had perhaps marginal ability at best. Sports are our link to those experiences which we will never have the truest ability to enjoy. They're not unlike watching fantasy movies that depict abilities and situations completely unlike anything we've ever seen before. If you're a fan (past or present) of any Star Wars movie, don't tell me you've never had the thought of how cool it would be to be a character in one of those films, even for just one scene, to see what it would be like. Sports are the same way, just a little closer to home in that many of us used to or continue to engage in the same kinds of activities as our favorite athletes, just not as gracefully and with far less fan fare. So guys, keep the faith as I think a fascination with sports is a healthy and necessary link to our youth and to our dreams that are so often obscured by the distractions of real life. And, for you ladies reading this post, recognize your guy's preoccupation with sports for what it is. Trust me, he's not trying to exclude or ignore you; it's just an artifact of the little boy who always wanted to grow up to be the next Walter Payton. Women have some similar, but also their own, reasons for enjoying and watching sports and I'll save that discussion for another post. Just a small town country boy's two cents worth and until next time....

It's not surprising that, in today's day and age, one sees significantly less hitchhiking than say 25 years ago. I'm not trying to date myself here and I distinctly remember how commonly I would see folks petitioning to thumb a ride at freeway on-ramps in my home town when I was a kid. Perhaps it was the town itself; I know I couldn't wait to leave there when I was 18 and have always since described it as a "good place to be from". That's of course a nice euphemism for "a small podunk town with nothing really exciting going on and that tends to bore one to death". The euphemism leaves less open for discussion so I like to go with that route whenever I can. Back to the hitchhiking issue. I guess everyone has their own car nowadays and maybe it's the eminent risk in hitchhiking or picking up hitchhikers that has kept people's opposable thumbs by their sides or in their pockets. Personally, I think it goes deeper than that. I was reminded of this the other day when I saw a Cadillac featuring the personalized license plate "Thum Les". One of two things came to mind when the distracting din of my own laughter had died down just a bit. Either the spacebar key on the Cadillac owner's computer keyboard had decided it was hungry or the owner was an ex-hitchhiker who was relishing the fact that they had their own wheels now and wanted to tell the world the same. Which leads me to my point of this posting. There seems to be such a stigma now about portraying meager means or not "having it all". I suppose hitchhikers would fall into that category, clearly not fitting into the social climate of the suburban Home Owner's Association annual picnic or the country club member/guest tournament. In fact, I would contend that the modern hitchhiker would barely rank higher than a homeless person begging for change at a busy intersection. We acknowledge the plight of the homeless but what ever came of the person who just needed a ride? They've been shoved out of the way like an appetizer plate making way for the entree (which of course arrives a full 2 minutes after the appetizer) at the local Applebee's. Hitchhiking was a common societal element in our not too distant past and was a more mainstream way of taking a carefree "hobo style" tour around this great country of ours. This, like many other things, is now an archived part of our country's culture, replaced by 'You can get a car for $149 and proof of a job' deals at the local used car lot and three year leases on Kia's. The hitchhiker has no way to compete with these modern pressures so I say congratulations to "Thum Les" for breaking out of the hitchhiking rut he had been in for so long and working his way into that shiny new Cadillac. For me, all I can say is I hope I don't break down on the side of the road without my sneakers. I'd have a better chance of begging for $20 than getting a ride to the next exit. Just an urbanized country boy's humble two cents worth and until next time...

I had the fortune of attending a concert just this evening past and made some interesting observations that I'll comment on periodically as I contribute to this post. First, it must be pointed out that there is likely no better people watching venue than a modern day rock concert. I've been a rock and roll fan my entire life and I'm still not quite sure where these kids get their clothes (or in the case of two female attendees, star shaped stickers placed conveniently to avoid being viewed as partially nude). Perhaps the better question surrounds where the parental influence is in all of this? Where were the parents of the hundreds of 13-15 year old kids who were in attendance, at an event where there was typical rock and roll revelry, olfactorily evident drug use, and plenty of public displays of affection? The venue was situated outdoors so we're clearly not talking about a northern location here but I'll leave the venue name and specifics out as they have little other relevance to the discussion here. The relevance lies in that planes heading to or from the nearby airport were flying directly over the concert venue for most of the evening. I asked myself at one point: "How many parents are on those planes with no idea their child is down below doing God knows what?" A figurative reference sure, but all too typical of today's tendency for parents to want to be friends to their children first and parents second. We as a society need to wake up a little and realize that certain freedoms are beneficial to our kids but that certain freedoms can be equally detrimental. Times have changed since I was 13 and they've changed a lot. That being said, I wouldn't have been allowed to go to a show like this one as a 13 year old and I don't think things have changed so much where that should be any different today. Many of the kids were, justifiably so, a little intimidated by what they saw and, as hard as it may have been for them to admit, glad some adults were around. Don't let them grow up too fast America...they still need that adult presence whether they say it or not. Just a humble country boy's two cents worth..until next time.