Much Ado About Nothing Archives

Much Ado About Nothing – “McCandles”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing February 27, 2020

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

The world can be an ugly, broken place full of horrible things we just can’t possibly understand. As of today, there’s one more: Quarter Pounder Candles. Correction: there are six more horrible things. McDonald’s announced they are releasing a six-pack of candles scented like the six ingredients in their Quarter Pounder hamburger. You don’t even have an extra charge for the cheese smell. A definite perk. And definitely gross.

According to the website where I know you’ll want to rush immediately to either confirm that I am not, in fact, making this stuff up or to be the first to order yours (in which case there’s something bad wrong with you), it’s a “set of 6 custom scented candles in glass containers, inspired by Quarter Pounder ingredients: Bun, Ketchup, Pickle, Cheese, Onion, 100% Fresh Beef.” I think it’s completely ironic that these candles are a “soy wax blend.” The scent is 100% beef but the candle itself is a soy blend? Uh huh. Nothing suspicious there.

Honestly, do people want their house smelling like a cheap fast-food hamburger? I suppose it’s better than cow farts or crushed stink bug, but if my house smells like the drive thru, I usually light a candle to make that smell go away.

So many questions. Is the intent that you burn them all at the same time? If so, why not have one candle with all the scents together? Disgusting to consider but certainly more efficient. Does the onion candle make your eyes water? Although, if you think about it, if you cut up an actual onion and cook with it, your house will smell like onion and (here’s the bonus points!) you have something better to eat than a fast-food hamburger.

While you’re there checking out the candles, you can pick up your $35 heart-shaped Quarter Pounder with Love locket “featuring beautiful photos of the Quarter Pounder, the Quarter Pounder Bacon, the Quarter Pounder Deluxe, and the Double Quarter Pounder. You’re welcome.” (The “you’re welcome” is on the website. That’s not me. Seriously. That’s not from me.) But it includes an 18-inch rope chain, so there’s that. Although it does nothing to reduce the factor of weird.

While I think this is beyond bizarre, I am wearing Whataburger socks. But that’s Whataburger and not weird. The website is GoldenArchesUnlimited.com. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Much Ado About Nothing – “Seenager”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing February 20, 2020

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

My dad recently announced that he is officially a seenager. A what? This sounds to me like he’s aged into being senile, but, at this point, I’m not going to talk him out of that. Clarifying, he explained he’s now a senior teenager. When I realized what that was, I suddenly have life goals! Basically, he has everything he ever wanted as a teenager only 70 years later. Everything he wanted without any of the hazards!

As a seenager, he doesn’t have to go to school or work and sleeps as late as he wants every day. He takes naps if he wants because, if he feels like it, he can stay up all night watching Netflix. (He doesn’t. He still doesn’t last much past 9pm, if we’re honest).

He’s got his own place where he makes all the rules and no curfew, plus a monthly allowance! My dad still has his driver’s license and his own car. (Yes, it’s a 2009 Camry with 40k original miles and a cassette player, but he still listens to cassettes, so it’s okay.) That driver’s license also gets him into bars and the liquor store. He doesn’t even have to sneak! It’s great.

Seenagers wear whatever they want as they are past needing to impress anyone. Things like shoelaces and belts become a point of pride more than fashion. How many at that age are relegated to Velcro and elastic waistbands? Dad can grow whatever hair he has left down to his butt crack and absolutely no one is going to tell him he can’t. (Don’t do it, Dad.)

I don’t really worry about him running around with a bad crowd of other seenagers. Or walking around with a bad crowd, I don’t think any of them would run even if they were being chased. From what I can tell, the people he hangs out with aren’t going to turn up pregnant, cook meth or fail English 4. Nobody’s getting drafted, enlisting, or worried about college applications. They can all go to R-rated movies together and pay half-price for the matinees. It’s a great group of “kids.”

And at the end of the day, those seenagers aren’t scared of anything. They’ve already faced down the really scary things life can dish out, so why be scared? And, hey, they don’t have acne.

Much Ado About Nothing – “Groundhog”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing February 13, 2020

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

For the past 133 years, the residents of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania have, without fail, every February 2^nd, hauled out a chubby groundhog name Punxsutawney Phil to predict the end of winter. This year, right on schedule, here comes Phil, likely wearing his Pat Mahomes Kansas City Chief’s jersey, to check on the existence of his shadow and announce the prospects for spring. Since 1887, it’s really been a lot of fun and games … until the protestors get involved. Enter PETA.

PETA stands for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. (It does not stand for People Eating Tasty Animals. That’s a completely different group that likely hosts outstanding barbecues for members.) PETA is the world’s largest animal rights group with gaboons of members who actually do good things to keep lipstick off pigs and monkeys out of labs. This year, though, they took notice of Phil and clamored to have him replaced by artificial intelligence – a rodent robot.

To be clear, it’s not okay to replace humans at McDonald’s with kiosk computers, but it’s okay to rob this defenseless creature of his identity as a beloved weather icon deserving of his own nationally recognized holiday and replace him with a machine. Maybe he can get a job at McDonald’s.

The PETA people argue that a robot would provide a more accurate prediction. This year as he was proudly held high above the cheering crowds, Phil did not see his shadow and proclaimed the arrival of an early spring. So, you know what, I’m Team Groundhog all the way! I honestly would rather have a nocturnal, burrowing woodchuck tell me those sweet lies that I want to hear over some National Weather Service computer droid explaining why the jet stream, global warming and the El Nino doom me to winter that will last until early May.

Sadly, no sooner had Phil prognosticated (that’s today’s word to Google!) hope of spring and driven off with Bill Murray but it started snowing. Everywhere. The Texas panhandle was at a standstill while even San Antonio froze their fajitas. The Midwest got buried and Michigan has officially been annexed into the Arctic Circle. Which, I’m not going to lie, makes me want to strangle Phil. Fortunately for him, my hands are too frozen to actually follow through with that.

Spring is March 19^th. Six more weeks!

Much Ado About Nothing – “Facebook Evils”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing February 5, 2020

What did we do before Facebook? Okay, forget MySpace. That doesn’t really count. Although, you might be surprised to know that MySpace isn’t dead. So, your MySpace profile that lists the Pussycat Dolls and Rascal Flatts as your favorite bands, has a picture of you trying to copy Hillary Duff’s haircut or wearing a bandana, it’s still in existence. Too bad you can’t remember that password.

But now we have Facebook and we’re all addicted to it. We spend hours of our lives every day scrolling through other people’s lives until we develop tendonitis in our flipping thumb. Suddenly someone else’s taco basket, concert tickets, grandchild smile is far more important – and interesting – than anything happening in our own lives right that moment.

While you’re feeling jealous that you don’t have tacos, tickets or smiling grandchildren, let me remind you that it’s all a façade. We should call it FacadeBook for the sake of accuracy. The truth is that no one posts selfies on the days they can’t bother to shower, 38 snaps of their children in full meltdown mode, or video of that screaming-door-slamming fight with their spouse. (Yes, the very same spouse that just yesterday was a joyous gift from God in their lives, according to their most recent post.)

Since none of my e-friends have ever influenced my decisions as a registered voter; since I’ve never made one of the beautifully delicious recipes that get posted and reposted; because I don’t care how many states a boy I sat next to in third grade has been to; and mostly because I’m not going to buy a mattress, shoes, bathing suit, insulin, mail-order dinners, or solar panels from a sponsored ad, I’ve started staying away from Facebook.

Here’s what I’ve discovered: I make eye-contact and have actual positive interactions with real people who are standing in front of me. We talk. With our mouths and not our keyboards. I do fun things. I mean, not officially fun things because if I don’t post pictures then it’s not Facebook official, but I’m learning to live with that. Heck, I’m keeping up with my laundry! I should make my Kenmore front-loader my new profile picture!

If at the end of your days, you could get back all the time you spent on social media, what would you do with it? Do that now.

Much Ado About Nothing – “Ice Cream Engineering”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing January 23, 2020

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

I was painfully struggling to impersonate a human ball of sweat on the verge of fiery combustion at the gym recently while a friend calmly trotted along on the treadmill next to me. After several minutes, I regained consciousness long enough to realize she was having a lengthy conversation with me. About ice cream. Dairy Queen cones, to be exact. Seriously. While I’m silently paying the penalties of even thinking about foods with caloric density greater than iceberg lettuce, she’s extolling the magnificence of Dairy Queen ice cream cones.

Since finding new friends who are more willing to share my suffering would have to wait until a time after I’d showered, I decided to at least try to be interested. I haven’t actually been to Dairy Queen since about 1999 when I had an unexpected layover of several hours in Eden, Texas to get a flat tire repaired. I’m estimating that nearly half the 2800 population of Eden, Texas was at Dairy Queen that particular day. Since the other half of the population are inmates incarcerated at the Eden Detention Center, that’s an impressive turnout. Unfortunately, the ice cream machine at the Eden Dairy Queen was broken.

Fast forward two decades and my local Dairy Queen is pumping out ice cream cones that, according to my so-called friend, are an architectural feat of wonder created by food service workers with superhuman skills! A mixture of magic, engineering and frozen yumminess that is nearly inconceivable on a cake cone.

She swears her cone was expertly swirled and piled to a height measuring greater than her elbow to fingertip. Then to add an element of blessed miraculousness to it, she had it encased in an envelope of whisper-thin chocolate. She truly had no explanation for this creation. Which, for no other reason than utter respect, she then ate in its entirety. Because of course she did.

Meanwhile, I’ve pulled the emergency stop chord on my treadmill and am standing there dripping and staring with my mouth open in sheer amazement. I took a few polite moments to casually chit-chat a parting then bolted for my car. Unsure whether this woman was spouting incantations of sugared evil or preaching the actual truth, I’ve decided to instigate a thorough personal investigation. If you need me, you know where to find me.

Much Ado About Nothing – “Human Bait”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing January 16, 2020

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

My dad always told me to have a backup plan in case my current job doesn’t work out. I wasn’t sure what that’d be until I saw this ad: “HUMAN BAIT NEEDED! Volunteer position for Bigfoot research project. This Fall. In Texas. Safety not guaranteed. Must have strong work ethic and some camping skills. Reward: Fame. Visit Human-Bait.com to apply.”

Of course, it’s in Texas. Like that even needed to be included. So, I’ve got camping skills. I can make an excellent s’more. But I still need to set myself apart from the other candidates. Based on my early dating history, I obviously can attract super hairy, back-woods knuckle-draggers with questionable hygiene. And absolutely, I will work for fame. Is now too soon to contact the editors at People Magazine to reserve my cover story?

I’m going to assume from the ad that the benefits package is minimal. Correct me if you see it differently, but does “Safety not guaranteed” mean there’s no dental plan? It’s not a deal-breaker but just want to be clear up front.

I’m also already prepared to answer the “Where do you hope to be in five years?” interview question. If I survive it, the Bigfoot gig is my springboard into the big leagues. My pathway of upward mobility is into a paying position with the Association of Haunt Mariana in Belo Horizonte, Brazil. They’re paying $1,000 a day (or whatever that amount is in Brazil) to be monster bait! For a thousand smackeroos, sign me up!

These folks have been terrorized by the Brazilian version of a Chupacabra, a bizarre monster they’re blaming for the mass deaths of livestock and four humans already! According to reports, the beast has the body of a monkey, legs like a chicken and head and scales resembling a lizard. Honestly, this sounds far more ridiculous than frightening, but they want it gone. So okay, let’s get ‘er done.

The thing is believed to live underwater, only coming onto dry land to prey on helpless victims. So, the plan is for the human bait to sit in a cage underwater with a goat. I mean, what monkeychickenlizard thing could resist that combo?! Now to Google “Goat Snorkels.” I’ll need one of those.

With the opportunities piling up, why am I wasting my talents here?! The world of human bait awaits!

Much Ado About Nothing – “Birthday Boy Tom”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing January 9, 2020

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

My youngest son just turned 21 this week. He’s officially and legally an adult because of me. Because I didn’t sell him to a tribe of travelling gypsies when he was a toddler; because I didn’t let that pack of wolves raise him through the early years; because when he was a teenager I’d already missed the point that I could just drop him off at the fire station no questions asked; because he is the child my own parents wished upon me and I already know all his tricks so, yes, he has survived to adulthood. You’re welcome.

Now at last, the child who has, for all these years, driven me to drink is old enough to buy me that drink. Except he’d probably have to borrow a few bucks from me to cover the bar tab but whatever. He is the factual proof of the enduring grace of a merciful God, because without that, I would have probably killed him a long time ago. He has always been that kid who would jump off the roof in Superman pajamas, who never passed up an opportunity to explode something, tested the coverage on my health insurance, and to this day believes that rules are not directives to be followed but dictates to be challenged and broken.

Without this child, I would have undoubtedly and irresponsibly squandered away the money I’ve spent on broken phones, broken bones, broken eye glasses, broken cars, and broken windows, on ridiculous things like tropical vacations or furniture without broken springs, backs and legs. I would never have developed a close, cooperative relationship (think 12-Step Support Group) with grade school teachers who had to deeply examine their career choice after a year with my son. His third grade teacher never returned to the classroom and his fourth grade teacher has my vote for canonization.

I can only think that 21 years ago I must have prayed for patience, because God has given me endless opportunity to learn it with this kid – now a young man. And this very impressive young man has also taught me through his example to love abundantly, deeply and with every fiber; to charge forward fearlessly; to show tolerance unquestioningly, but to question everything else; and to live life passionately.

It has been an honor and a blessing to be his mom. Happy Birthday, Tom!

Much Ado About Nothing – “Bazaar Gift Ideas” 12\26\19

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing January 2, 2020

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

I’ve long since given up the notion of convincing Santa Claus that I’ve been good all year in the hopes of elevating my prospects to find cool stuff under my tree on Christmas morning. I mean, who are we kidding? He knows better, especially if he reads this column with any regularity. However, after just a little online shopping I’ve realized that there may very well be worse things than getting coal in your stocking! I’m thinking I might want to clean up my act!

I have to wonder how bad you have to be during the year to wake up on Christmas morning to find that Santa brought you “Poo in a Box: Grow a Banana Plant in Rhino Poo.” I may be on the naughty list but not because I make up stuff like that. The Museum of Natural Science in London actually sells this. It even comes with the banana seeds. There is just no possible way to fake a response that will in any way make it seem like you’re happy and excited to have received that. But maybe next year you’ll be better behaved.

If your efforts at goodness were subpar, you may find “Lincoln Bandages” in your stocking. My first thought was that someone was trying to sell the actual bandages used to nurse the fatally wounded 16^th president of the United States, and, for the right price, you could have some of the bloody cloths. Fortunately, it turns out that they are only band-aides with a picture of Abraham Lincoln on them. Thank goodness for that, because my idea was really yucky.

Maybe you weren’t so diligent about keeping last year’s resolutions to stick to your diet or, even worse, you stole all of the cookies left out for Santa. If so, you’re probably going to get the Animal Weighing Scale. Oh no, it’s not going to weigh your animals. It will give you your weight in a comparative animal picture rather than a number. Too much Christmas goose and you may tick in closer to a grizzly bear than a duck. If you top out at African Elephant, it’s time to hit the gym.

All I can say is that if these gift possibilities aren’t an Ebenezer Scrooge Ghost of Christmas Future kind of moment that gets you to be a better person, then don’t come Bah-humbugging to me! Remember: Santa is watching!

Much Ado About Nothing – “New Year Resolutions”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing December 25, 2019

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

It’s cold; it’s dark; and you’re probably still hungover from that New Year’s Eve party. There is absolutely no better time to swear on what’s left of your good name to be a better human. That’s right, children, it’s that magical time to make those resolutions that will carry you at least three or four days into the new year before you completely forget about them. Okay, I’ll start.

I resolve to stop bad-mouthing cilantro. It’s just a helpless weed that can’t help it if it tastes like fermented roadkill. I can be distasteful myself, and that’s on my good days. So, I’m going to ease up on cilantro and accept that it deserves a place on the spice rack just like others that actually taste good and add something to whatever you’re eating.

This year, I’m going to stop judging people harshly who use a plastic bag to carry their one box of Jell-O Instant Pudding Mix from the store to their car. For all I know, there’s a dark addiction and resulting shame attached to that box of pudding mix. So, hey, I can enable with the best of them. Keep that under wraps, Closet Pudding Eater Person. Besides, it’s not like I know an endanger whale personally who will die with that bag stuck in their stomach.

I’m resolving to at least attempt to understand the attraction to coffee, Disneyworld, “The Bachelorette” tv show, eyelash extensions, car shows, and golf. Because, honestly, up until now, I just don’t get any of it. There must be something to all of them as they seem to be wildly popular.

I resolve to not squeal in delight every single time I see Baby Yoda. I’ll go into the baseball season with my eyes wide open and not be shocked when the Astros break my heart (again). I’m going to embrace cold weather and enjoy wearing five layers of wool clothing. This year, I’ll get a tattoo and wear pajama pants to church. Oh, yes, I will.

Hahaha yeah right. I’m not going to do any of these things. At all. Ever. Be real. But I will, with great conviction, reduce my single-use plastic consumption; drink more water and waste less of it; and stop blatantly lying that I’ll ever say anything good about cilantro. That’s not happening this year or any year. Happy 2020!

Much Ado About Nothing – “Christmas Carols”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing December 19, 2019

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

Christmas carols are out of control. There’s a radio station dedicated to playing nothing but Christmas music in every possible genre: Country Christmas, Reggae, Classical Christmas, Dyslexic Middle Earth Nomadic Goat Herder Christmas on Antique Native Instruments. But what exactly are we listening to? I thought I’d take a look.

“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” is a song by a vulnerable child traumatized by witnessing the perceived infidelity of his mother as she goes full lip-lock on Santa Claus, an identified stranger. As the song goes on, the child promises to rat out his lying, cheating mother to his dad. I’m not sure what the expected outcomes are from that nor do I want to venture a guess.

“Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” is only on the radio so Jerry Springer has something to sing along with, too. I’m not sure the demise of the family matriarch is reason to slap down an upbeat tune, and the fact that the poor thing died as the result of a hit-and-run accident sounds more like a prosecutable crime than a toe-tapping carol.

“Santa Baby” is the Entitlement Movement’s theme song. How good do you exactly have to be to get a fur coat, platinum mine, cash, jewelry, and a 1954 Cadillac 62 Series Convertible in light blue? Personally, if I get the bonus pair of crew socks when you buy package of six it’s because I exceeded expected goodness levels for that year.

“Santa Claus is Coming to Town” threatens children to “watch out!” and “not pout!” because St. Nick sees you when you’re sleeping, when you’re awake, probably in the shower, forget using the bathroom with any privacy. That’s not Santa Claus, that’s Alexa. But they’re probably in cahoots. Either way, Santa Claus is overstepping some boundaries.

“The Little Drummer Boy” is just ridiculous because no mother, not even the mother of the Christ, is going to allow some strange boy to bang on a drum if she’s just gotten her baby to sleep. Are you kidding? The sheep are forbidden to so much as bleat or breath! Drum? Pffft. Right.

Finally, it’s “Auld Lang Syne “ not “Old Ang Sign.” Let’s face it, no one knows the words past “May old acquaintance be forgot.” And let’s hum the rest.

So on that note, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

Much Ado About Nothing – “Anti Hallmark Christmas”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing December 12, 2019

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

They say Christmas is for children. This was not said by my good friend who has five of them. Her holiday wish list probably includes copious amounts of wine, an undisturbed nap, someone else to decide what’s for dinner, and some space to just vent. So I’m handing her a glass of wine and this space. Go ahead, Nancy (the name has been changed to protect Julie’s identity), this is your opportunity to speak to the Christmas manager.

“I don’t want to see another saccharine-sweet movie about this ‘most wonderful time

of year’ where it shows the post-Oprah makeover picture of Martha Stewart decorations and food prepared by Julia Child. Instead, I’d like to see a movie about how dinner is poured from a Campbell’s can or a fancy boxed pizza is thrown in the oven at 8 o’clock. I’d like to see a kitchen that looks like a tornado went through it.

“I’d like to see a movie with a room littered with 15 bins of Christmas decorations spilled on the floor just waiting for someone to be motivated or a movie about how a mom is struggling to repair a vacuum that has just sucked up the equivalent of a forest-full of artificial trees. I’d like to see a movie showing how cats are taking advantage of this chaos and making a toy out of giant tumbleweed balls of Christmas lights. I’d like to see a movie about how some parents forget to pick up kids from their activities or maybe one about how a mom learns to navigate all her commitments without losing her mind.

“What I NEED is an all-hands-on-deck approach to helping me even START preparing for Christmas. I’m having a sleigh-full of problems getting in the spirit and focusing on the real Reason for this Season. So while I cry in disbelief at all the decorations I have collected or received with open arms, I’m going to take a few minutes and listen to my Feel

Good Not Christmas Music and try to remember that I’m doing all this for the kids (on top of all my regular whirlwind of chores, chauffeuring, scheduling, shopping, oh, does it ever end?).”

Thank you, Julie … err, Nancy. For all you do. Let’s remember that even the very first Christmas wouldn’t have happened without a special mother. Hug one this season.

Much Ado About Nothing – “Apostrophe Police”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing December 5, 2019

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

There is a disturbance in the grammatical force! Punctuation Jedi John Richards, a 96-year-old former copy editor who has dedicated his life to the protection of the endangered apostrophe, is giving up the fight and going to the Dark Side. The announcement that he is abandoning his Apostrophe Protection Society and albeit Quixote quest to save the world from written stupidity should strike fear in the hearts of every wordsmith and language lover everywhere. NOTE: If you use words like “theyselves,” skip this whole thing as it will be meaningless.

In a society that struggles with the complexities of the proper use of a turn signal, punctuation, as a whole, has become superfluous. Cellular providers do not charge by the character, and yet most text messages lack the dignity of a single, well-placed comma or even a period. Exclamation points, however, seem to multiply like Viagra-infused field rabbits behind sentences typed in all capital letters. And this, in and of itself, may be why aliens continue to fly on past our planet.

Admittedly a peaceful protestor, Mr. Richards fought the good fight to have the apostrophe’s rightful representation in things like “Ladies’ Apparel” and “Harrod’s Department Store.” While Richards respects a company’s right to delete their own apostrophe, he is baffled at how McDonald’s can get it right but Harrods can’t. If you’re taking notes, “can’t” and “don’t” can and do have an apostrophe.

Richards was also affronted, and rightfully so, by the willy-nilly insertion of apostrophes where they did not belong, like in dates: adding an apostrophe to the 1960s only diminishes its psychedelic impact. CDs on your desk and all Fs on your report card do not require apostrophes – no ifs, ands or buts about it!

Perhaps it was Texans who pushed Mr. Richards over the edge with their possessive form of a plural number of groups: y’all’s’s. Used correctly in a sentence, “All y’all’s’s boots still have mud on them.” Texas may very well be where good apostrophes go to die.

Although he did not directly reference Texans, Mr. Richards wrote on the Apostrophe Protection Society’s website before it was overwhelmed by properly punctuated protest posts, “The ignorance and laziness present in modern times have won!” And he is not wrong. Although all y’all still need to leave y’all’s muddy boots outside.

Much Ado About Nothing – “Worst Jobs”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing November 27, 2019

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

Surely there cannot be a worse job than to be a telemarketer. How desperate do you have to be for employment to take a job where you’re universally despised and spring-loaded for failure? Does anyone ever intentionally answer a phone call when “Telemarketer” comes up on the caller ID? I mean, besides my son who answers by speaking a made up foreign language, screaming for someone to please notify the police, or asking completely inappropriate questions until they hang up on him.

Okay, so you take the job because… I can’t even think of a reason, but you do. Then you spend 8 hours every day trying to get gullible, vulnerable people to answer their phones so you can sell them car warranties, credit card protection or bogus Medicare supplements that they don’t need and actually don’t even exist. Do you just remove all the mirrors in your house so you don’t ever have to face yourself?

It’s okay, though, because you’re not the very lowest of the bottom-feeders. There are, after all, people out there writing computer viruses and programs to hack your personal information and ruin your life. How those people ever get dates, I don’t know. You’re sitting in a bar and a super-hot prospect sits down next to you. You start chatting with the standard question of “Hey, what do you do?” Umm, well, I create devastating computer viruses. Unless the other person is a Nazi skinhead puppy killer, I’m thinking there’s no love connection.

Computer hacking, though, is more criminal activity than actually an awful job. We’ll put that one on the list with “pimp” and “drug-dealer.”

IRS audit agents, the modern-day tax collectors, are honestly higher on the social food chain than telemarketers. Door-to-door salesmen hawking encyclopedias, vacuum cleaners and magazine subscriptions hold their heads a tiny bit higher than telemarketers. I’d rather be the clean-up crew for the elephant enclosure or a customer service operator for just about any cable company, internet provider or major utility service.

At the end of the pay day, telemarketer is the worst job ever. Okay, wait. Except maybe holiday retail sales. That could possibly be worse. I’d rather face the butt-end of a sick elephant than be a telemarketer, but if it’s that or Build-a-Bear on December 24^th, I’m changing my name to Jennifer and calling your phone!

Much Ado About Nothing – “Thanksgiving Menu”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing November 21, 2019

Let’s talk turkey about your upcoming Thanksgiving Dinner menu. This year, think out of the box and embrace your inner non-conformist. Traditions are important and wonderful and heartwarming, but, face it, pizza is better. This year, be thankful for what’s real: honesty. Be honest about a few things on your menu and set yourself and your family up for the best holiday feast ever.

Let’s start by being honest about green bean casserole: no one really likes it. So this year, let’s be thankful that we are adults who can choose not to make or eat green bean casserole! If you are reading this and, unfortunately, are not an adult, perhaps you can be thankful you can feed your green bean casserole to your dog. No dog? You’re screwed. Be thankful it only happens once a year.

I realized that green bean casserole is only on the menu because some meal-planner with an over-exaggerated sense of nutritional responsibility thought there should be something green on the plate, like a vegetable, which I completely respect. But, at Thanksgiving, respect does not trump mashed potatoes and gravy, macaroni and cheese or any version of dressing. In the end, the casserole is only taking up valuable real estate in your stomach. Who wants to pass on that extra piece of pie because that last two inches of open space under the diaphragm is full of mushroom soup covered bean stuff?

I understand if your grandmother is still alive and joining you for dinner. No one wants to see Grandma throwing hands because you didn’t make her secret recipe for green bean casserole. Pick your battles. Put a couple of beans under your mashed potatoes and try to ignore them. Like last year and every year since Ousemequin and the Pokanoket Wampanoag tribe of Native Americans showed up to the first Thanksgiving dinner in 1621 with a turkey and green bean casserole.

And maybe you want to cast aside your casserole and everything else that goes along with it. Maybe you don’t even like turkey. Or planning, shopping, over-spending, over-committing, all day in the kitchen, cooking, clean up, leftovers for life, over-eating, gaining 15 pounds. In which case, trash the tradition. This is, afterall, ‘Merica! Home of the Free! You have to right to stand up and just say: I WANT PIZZA!

Much Ado About Nothing – “Attack Turkeys”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing November 14, 2019

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

With Thanksgiving only weeks away, turkeys have gone on the offensive: in Ocean County, New Jersey a large, angry mob of turkeys has started aggressively terrorizing a 55+ retirement community! While this seems to be the current epicenter of the hostilities, we can only wonder how long it will be before it spreads to other vulnerable sectors. My own elderly father lives in a similar community in Texas, naively thinking his biggest concern is whether they’ll run out of scotch during the resident happy hour, while at any moment, he could be under siege by wild, gobbling attackers!

I’d like to say I’m making this up, but as the hard-core, real-news journalist that I am <cough, snort>, I’m obligated to tell most of the truth as I see it. While the flock, led by a number of Tom’s weighing up to 25 pounds (without stuffing), has yet to put forth a spokesman (spokesbird?), it is assumed that these acts of aggression are a response to perceived turkey hate groups like AllRecipes.com and Butterball. Animal rights organizations, however, have yet to issue statements beyond the usual, “Don’t Eat Animals.”

According to first-hand witnesses in New Jersey, the turkey terrorists have been seen chasing down residents, which hardly seem like a fair fight when you consider turkeys can run 25-miles per hour while the average 55-year old woman can barely run faster than 4-miles per hour after coffee and a nap. The fiendish flock has also formed barricades against traffic and perched menacingly on rooftops to swoop down on the unsuspecting Medicare recipients.

MLB right-handed third baseman Todd Frazier has even put in a plea to the New Jersey governor to take action after his cars were attacked and his family members threatened. While it doesn’t seem that the National Guard or state militia have been activated, it was pointed out that state animal control cannot intervene with the rogue turkeys because they’re considered wildlife.

This is a food fight with the food fighting back. Therefore, it’s up to the locals to take matters into their own oven-mitted hands. Rise up, oh retirees! Preheat your ovens! Grab your pitchforks and basters and get ready to storm the ramparts! Show them you’re done talking turkey and put an end to the foul play!

Look for updates as they become available or when the red button pops up.

Much Ado About Nothing – “Musically Challenged”

Source Weekly Much Ado About Nothing November 6, 2019

Much Ado by Jean Ciampi

I recently took my favorite engineer to a concert by the local symphony orchestra. In and of itself, this isn’t the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. He is, by all accounts, an intelligent, well-rounded, culturally-cognizant human. No, the dumbest idea I’ve ever had was taking him to hear the local symphony orchestra after letting him sample the evening’s specialty drink offered in the concert hall’s donors lounge beforehand: some crazy concoction of pretty, amber-colored alcohols with a “feisty splash of orange” guaranteed to nail your butt to the auditorium seat for the full 95 minutes plus intermission.

While nearly the entire audience was enraptured by Dvorak’s Symphony Number 7, there were a countable few who were obviously listening with their eyes closed and their chins on their chests. I’m guessing they’d been bamboozled by the bartender as well and were trying to just sleep it off before driving home.

But not my engineer. No, he’d gotten himself tickled somewhere between the Allegro maestoso and the poco adagio and was quickly succumbing to a fit of the giggles. Of course, classical music giggles rank second only to church and funeral giggles, don’t you know, so no amount of elbowing and shushing on my part were going to stop them. I’m talking about full body shaking, muffled snorts, tears on face giggles. Oh but wait, he’s then compelled to whisper to me that he’s sure he’s heard this same song conducted by Bugs Bunny. That just didn’t help.

Then, somewhere right before intermission, an older gentleman seated down front and center started a coughing fit that could easily have been misconstrued to be an end-of-life death rattle from where we were sitting. I pointed out to my still smirking seatmate that it could be him next if he didn’t put a cork in it! That did help.

So here’s the really funny thing about it: he actually loved the music and the concert, so much so that by the end of the violin concerto, he was practically conducting from row 28, seat 15. After the final “Bravos!” and applause from an enthusiastic standing ovation – Not for him. No, please, don’t encourage him – he stopped at the box office on the way to the parking lot and bought two tickets to the next concert! Lord, pray for me!

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Lake Jackson, TX 77566
Published in Lake Jackson

TEL: 979-285-9200
FAX: 979-285-9255