For about five years in a row, Hersheypark was the go-to-on-the-way-back-from-DC-place for myself and my niece. She would celebrate the end of another school year by visiting me in the Washington area and we would hit up all the museums, the zoo, take in a game at Camden Yards, and maybe catch a movie (the last one we saw was the Jurassic Park film that came out in 2018, I can't remember what it's called because they are all interchangeable now.)
Then she had kids, and the visits South came to an end. Instead I visited Pompeii, Ireland and Sicily before heading to Vermont for a summer of landscaping, swimming and wandering the beaches of New England.
Now we've decided that the children are old enough to start their own adventures in and around the Nation's Capital, so this morning we are all packing up and heading to Maryland for a week. We'll do All the Things, including catching a game in Baltimore, before returning home via Hershey a week from today. I'll enjoy Hershey Park especially, as long as it's ok that I just hold stuff while the others ride the rides; I'm not a rollercoaster person. The "Welcome to the World of Chocolate" ride at the visitor's center is wild enough for me. :>)
Please wish us safe travels and enjoy the archives while I'm gone!
Having long ago fried his last brain cell, and wasted his youth, consuming ultra-processed fat and sugar until his entire life is spent in a dull carbohydrate coma- a sort of waking nightmare, if you will- this guy is now going to wander around pondering the mystery of chicken in a taco. Past generations split the atom and harnessed the power of the sun, and there are still people out there creating actual value for society. This guy is going to stare at a pile of warm garbage in his hand and try to remember a time when he was able to solve complex problems and make plans beyond "use Uber Eats to order Taco Bell"- you know, before his cognition when all to hell, short-circuited by nutrient-free sludge delivered in a bag with a bell on it.
I just wish he wouldn't vote. Stop voting, idiot. Or if you insist on voting, start voting for candidates who want to rein in the price of healthcare. You'll benefit, believe me.
So it turns out that it wasn't hard at all to find a few people willing to admit not really caring about the particular brand of warm, bland carbohydrates they last fell asleep eating in front of the television while contemplating the wreck that had become of their lives.
Turns out that if they are told it was Dominos, well, then, sure, what the hell, it was Dominos, who cares? And when they are told "PSYCH! It wasn't Dominos! It was some other brand of life-shortening tasteless garbage with extra nutrient-free dairy product jammed into the middle of pasty white dough, but it wasn't Dominos!" the response is generally "oh really. That's not at all interesting. I really don't care. Is this a national campaign? How many times am I gonna be on TV?"
All of these people are putting in minimal energy to project surprise, and all of them are failing miserably. Because come on, if they are regular consumers of delivery stuffed-crust pizza, their energy levels are in the tank right next to their will to live. By the way, what happened to that weird fat creep who seemed to live exclusively on Pizza Hut products last football season? Did he die? He died, didn't he?
I mean, I think it's unintentional...but maybe the lack of sound is not an error in posting? Maybe the silence is supposed to ramp up the drama?
As it is, seeing this guy act like he's on the verge of un-aliving himself because he has to make a decision concerning paint colors leaves me very, very concerned. Like, never mind owning a business- I'm not sure that you're ready for Adulthood yet, buddy. It's not a big deal. Go with green. Green's nice. And if it's not your decision- if the client changed her mind on the colors she wanted, well, sorry but this cannot be the biggest headache you'll ever face as a sainted Small Business Owner. Again, you might not be ready for this whole Adulting thing. You sure as HELL aren't ready to run a business.
When don't have money but you have credit, you use a credit card.
When you don't have money or a credit card but you do have a job, you go to American Acceptance.*
When you don't have money or a credit card or a job but you do have a car, you go to the Title Loan place.
When you don't have money or a credit card or a job or a car, you start bringing your belongings to the Pawn Shop.
Eventually, when you have nothing but debts and no way to raise money, I guess you turn to crime or the bitter charity of your friends, neighbors and relatives.
Wherever you are on this list, you do NOT walk around with a stupid smile on your face as if you are dealing with temporary, easily-manageable problems.** Your life is crap.
*Better hurry, though. The lawsuits against this particular company are beginning to pile up. The biggest issue seems to be hidden fees and outrageous interest rates, whodathunkit?
**Seriously, buddy, stop grinning. You have NOTHING to be happy about.
So it turned out that all those "banks" that cater to the one percent were lying to me- my credit score, the result of never paying my bills on time, racking up huge debts on various pieces of plastic and eventually declaring bankruptcy, and basically being a complete deadbeat for years doesn't matter when it comes to buying a new car! As long as I've got a job with a regular paycheck that can be garnished/seized when I inevitably fail to pay for the current big purchase I want and therefore need because I want, I can get a car just like the other grownups!
I just need to come up with an $800 down payment, which I can get with a quick call to Fast Cash or QCPawn.com or Cashpoint or any number of Instant Money No Catch Unless You Consider Ridiculous Interest Rates To Be a Catch services. And I won't have to deal with negotiations and calls to banks and all that annoying stuff once I find the car that makes me look good in the neighborhood; in thirty minutes I can be driving off with a car because the biggest Buy Here Pay Here dealership in Nashville handles it's own financing. I understand that every franchised dealership in the United States also has financing but that has nothing to do with me because my stupid credit score locks me out of those places.
This place treats me like a real person. A real poor, desperate, economically illiterate person. A person who thinks they are doing me a favor when they take my $800 and have me sign a contract locking me into a $800 per month, 84 month payment plan at 39.9% interest which maybe sounds kind of bad but today I only need $800. And a place to hide this car from the repo guy in a few months when Real Life hits me in the face again.
...and I have been a BIG fan of boxing for forty years.
Seven years ago, Deontay Wilder was the George Foreman of the modern era. The guy went 40-0 with 39 knockouts in his first decade in the pros, with the great majority of those fights ending inside of three rounds. The fact that he threw off-balance windmill punches you could see coming from a mile away didn't seem to matter, mainly because he was in the ring against tomato cans, most of whom began to look for a comfortable spot on the canvas to lay down from the opening bell.
Then, in 2018, he began to face actual professional heavyweight boxers, and the chinks in the armor became obvious. In winning his first belt he could not knock down or even seriously hurt a terrified, 100 percent defensive-minded Bermane Stiverne in winning a lopsided 12-round decision. Then he struggled to finish Luis Ortiz in ten rounds. And at the end of the year, in his first fight against an actual skilled fighter, he was lucky to get a draw against Tyson Fury, a blubbery, rusty, aging ex-champ looking to make a comeback after gaining fifty pounds and spiraling into alcohol-fueled depression.
Since that first Tyson fight, Wilder is 3-4 (1-4 in his last five fights) and has been knocked out (each time quite brutally) three times. He hasn't fought since last June, when he was pole-axed in five rounds by a guy who went on to be KO'd in his very next fight. The general consensus after that disaster was that Wilder's legs were gone, his balance was gone, his chin was gone, and he needed to just walk away from the sport which made him very wealthy before he found himself going down an all-too-familiar road for practitioners of the Sweet Science: In pursuit of One More Big Payday, becoming a punching bag and eventually dying young and broke and not in full command of one's faculties.
In a few days, Wilder- who once headlined Pay-per-View cards in Nevada, New York and the new capital of heavyweight boxing, Riyadh, will step into the ring in that famous Mecca of American Championship Boxing, Wichita, to take on Tyrell Anthony Herndon, a clubfighter with a record of 24-5 who has been stopped four times in his five losses. Somehow this is being sold as a Pay-per-View event despite being only marginally more legitimate than a Jake Paul "fight." Such is the power of a Name in this sport- the name being "Wilder" of course, since nobody knows who Tyrell Anthony Herndon is except that he's exactly the kind of fighter Wilder feasted on BEFORE he became a belt holder.
Other than a quick paycheck, it's hard to see what Wilder is getting out of this (and I'm quite certain that Herndon expects absolutely NOTHING other than the quick paycheck, except to wake up the next day with a bad headache and possibly a sore back from hitting the canvas at an awkward angle sometime in the first three minutes of the "fight.") But I'm afraid that he's aiming for another, bigger fight down the road with an actual professional who will batter him to a pulp but make his bank account fatter in the process.
It's said that boxers are the very worst among sports professionals at knowing when the tank is empty and it's time to hang it up and enjoy the kids and grandkids. There are endless examples of ex-stars who flamed out and fought on long after the glory had faded because it was all that they knew or had blown through their money with no thought for tomorrow. I'm afraid that Deontay Wilder is just the latest chapter in the saddest cliche of sports. For his sake, and for the sake of his wife and kids, I hope that he just wants to go out a winner and after he's plastered this guy Herndon this weekend he finds peace and something else to do with his brain. I'm not optimistic though. As I said, I've seen this movie many times and I know how it usually ends.
