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Mudcat
Whenever the topic comes up I always stress that Mad Men is not for everyone.

Some people, when they have a show/movie/music they like and they hear someone doesn't like it, want to insult that person's taste. If comments like those came up on imdb, no doubt there would be condescending responses along the lines of it being over your head and you should stick with shows about car chases and explosions and blah, blah, blah. That pattern of discussion is the #1 cliche of that kind of forum.

I don't see it that way at all. It's a very particular show. I understand people not liking it. But for those who do, like me, it is a show of a lifetime, particularly that first season.
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Very well said.

I have a lot of friends who think Parks and Rec is REALLY funny. It's just not for me.

Mad Men is for me.
 
I am having a random memory.

It is of something that happened when I was ~19. I had a temporary job as a janitor at a K-Mart warehouse. I spent my days driving around on a sweeper machine. I had a long cleaning route I would follow where I would sweep up various floors and there were places I would stop for other cleaning chores and occasional there would be an emergency clean-up situation like if someone tipped over a skid of something messy.

I basically liked the job. I mean, it was not something I would have done for free in my spare time but I was on my own all through the day and there was a variety of things to do and sometimes there would even be some creativity into figuring out how to clean up certain messes. It was an okay job for a 19 year old stoner.

One day a boss flagged me over. He was a short flabby nerdy guy who was not well liked. People talked shit about him behind his back. I even remember his name. Ron Wescott.

I pulled up to him on my sweeper machine.

He said to me that I had to clean the toilets. I needed to be sure to clean the toilets. I needed to use some disinfectant cleaning solution and scrub them with a scrubber. There were a number of toilets around the place and and I had to clean those toilets.

And he stopped speaking and walked away.

Okay. This was strange because I was already cleaning the toilets. There were a number of bathrooms along my route and I stopped and cleaned them every day. And it wasn't like I was doing such a half-assed job that no one could tell they had been cleaned. I did a completely competent job of it.

I didn't mind cleaning the bathrooms. Over the years I have heard many people make comments where they need an example of the worst possible job and they say cleaning toilets. I have had much worse jobs than that K-mart job.

But I was really rankled by that little speech. It wasn't just that the guy was instructing me to do something I was already doing; it was the way he said toilets. He kept repeating the word toilets. He had such a fancy delicate way of saying the words, like he was sticking his bare hand in a toilet each time.

I'm saying it out loud right now - just like he said it. He didn't say turlets exactly; it was halfway between toilets and turlets; with a strong emphasis on the "s" at the end like a flamboyant gay person might do. Tayletss.



Ron was pretty old at the time and that was almost 30 years ago so hopefully he is dead now.
 
The Mississauga Marathon is passing right in front of my building and there are people out there going WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO every time someone runs by.

Shrill, high-pitched

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

And they are also clapping and hollering out various verbal encouragements.

Nice of them I suppose but it looks like I have to change my plans to record some vocals like I am wanting to do.

Will they be able to keep up this annoying hooting all day? Probably.
 
go out there and sing encouraging impromptu songs using the marathoners names using your guitar or harmonica (its on their race number thing pinned to them)

you might help a few people that need a boost finish.

Muddy, I go help people finish

finish, finish, finish
 
Things are settling down outside. Don't know if I should risk setting up the mic though. I can still see having a perfect take spoiled by a bunch of tired WOOOOOOOOOOOOOs from outside.

Just as I type that, a stupid fucking Harley goes by, rattling the foundations. That's the other thing about this area: when the weather gets nice we get quite a few of these gay motorcycles.



Shut up everyone! DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM ?!?!?!
 
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