Memo to Geriatric Action Movie Stars: It’s Over

21 Jan
From: CTBelitz

Re: Memo to Geriatric Action Movie Stars: It’s Over

To:  Harrison Ford, Bruce Willis, Arnold, Sly Stallone, George Lukas, etc.
I appreciate much of your work.  During the time when I enjoyed watching movies celebrating mass murderers, you created some of my favorite childhood movies.  The Indiana Jones films (first and third movies), Die Hard, Predator, Demolishing Man (a movie I saw on my 13th birthday), and the Star Wars franchise.
These movies achieved their much deserved success and, I have to admit, I’ll respond like a trained dog whenever I see they are on TV by watching them and drooling the entire time.  I do this even though I own them on DVD, but something about finding them on TV makes it even more special.  Much like finding money on the street, it felt as if the fates had given me a gift and I should enjoy it…even if I have to suffer through commercials.
Its good and I thank you for providing a distraction from my life.
But, I think to keep revisiting these same story lines as you gradually get older has made you look, well, pathetic.  None of these movies would have ever been green-lighted if you were still a young actor trying to make it.  The only reason is because of the success in your previous efforts, not because they are good work.
The question I have been trying to answer is why ruin classic movies with awful sequels.  It does nothing but tarnish your legacy and makes the career making movies that much worse.  I can’t watch the first Star Wars movies without thinking about the prequels.  I can’t watch Indiana Jones movies without thinking about the fourth one.  I can’t watch Die hard without thinking about the other ones.  It has become a form of PTSD and has generally ruined my outlook on them.
Why do you do this?  I have a theory.
You are either A) broke and need the money (the reason Sean Connery made Never Say Never Again) or B) we are watching you go through a collective mid-life crisis where you try to reclaim your earned youthful success.  This is sad and pathetic, though I am sympathetic to your desire.  No one wants to get old and no longer have the world at their finger tips.  A swelling prostate, alimony, and no longer being the center of attention must bother you greatly.  Not being the hottest stud at a celebrity party must grate on you.  This is no reason to run off and make idiotic movies where I wonder how much pain killers you had to take in order to pull off that CGI enhanced stunt on wires.
We all get older.  Rather than humiliating yourself–much in the same manner as how you used to laugh at the old guy in the young bar looking for girls with daddy-issues–I think the best way would be to age gracefully.
I have an examples: Clint Eastwood.  I love him.  He’s gone through his career from violent psychopath to elder movie statesman.  You should emulate his career and move onto the next stage of your career.  And, he’s still hilarious.
I would like for you to carefully consider this suggestion.  You are getting older; embrace it, don’t fight it.  Quite making box office bombs which only serve to undermine your legacy.  Besides, I would love to have the work on my resume and carved on my tombstone which led to your early success.  You provided fun to millions.  I’d take that deal in a heartbeat.
Your’s truly
CTBelitz

Benefiting from self-told lies

17 Jan

I think the ability to lie to yourself is underrated.  We live in a miserable world surrounded by injustice, incompetence, and family members.  So, the ability to delude yourself into seeing the world with rose covered glasses is key to any sort of happiness.  The problem with this is that you can’t see too much of the world as lies.  The consequences of this are you don’t see problems coming, such as a daughter getting pregnant, marrying the wrong person, and believing your favorite sports team–I don’t know, named, say, the Broncos–will make it to the Super Bowl when you have a once in a lifetime opportunity to actually attend the game for free (including airfare on a private jet and hotel room) and thinking this will actually happen will inevitable led to you trying to drown yourself in the shower after they lose the longest and most emotionally draining game you will ever see.  This is a hypothetical; don’t read too much into it.  

 
The previous examples prove there must be a balancing act between seeing the world as a wonderful place and not progressing into what people could nicely describe as “idiotic,” “insane,” and “he made a $*%&$# fool of himself” behavior.  For instance, you’ll see your child as a potential winner rather than as a lead paint licking, snot nosed jerk so you don’t drop them off in front of orphanage after handing them $50.  You’ll think your career is getting ready to take off rather than the fact you are in a dead-end job (also called Human Resources) so you keep showing up every day.  You don’t notice your significant other, while sweet and caring, is obnoxious and stupid with a tendency to irritate every one else in your life so you can continue to love them.  You show up to church, synagogue, mosque, whatever, but you don’t become so desperate for meaning you join a religious cult that, while stating you should love and accept everyone on the planet, it is okay to kill anyone who doesn’t agree with you.  You take care of yourself through nutrition and exercise, but you don’t start believing your life’s fate is determined by these actions and actually start blaming people for their life’s problems if they don’t do this and that you can repair a lesion on the brain with a hamstring stretch.  Basically, you need to be able to limit the amount of being able to lie to yourself so you don’t become an asshole no one likes.
 
So, a balancing act needed.  The question now becomes how to tell when you’ve gone over the deep end moving from optimism to stupidity.  I have a theory on this that can be tested with a very simple observation.  We will call it the “Blank Stare” test (“the BS test”).  It works like this. If, at any point in your life, after explaining what you are doing and what is going on, people stare at you with a blank stare, you have crossed the line from optimism to stupidity.  
 
Examples of crossing the line include the following:
1) When you tell someone just because a significant other has cheated on you in the past and has cheated on everyone they have ever dated and they stare out you, you have crossed the line
2)  When you tell someone you could have been a professional athlete, but couldn’t do it because you got married, injured, or whatever, but your child can make it even though he/she has had three reconstructive knee surgeries and the odds are roughly 1 in 130,000 of this, you have crossed the line
and, I don’t know 
3) Believe you can actually learn to cook and become good at it even though you set a grease fire in three days in a row
 
Number three is what I need to pay attention to.  I mean, when I’m removing the batteries to the fire detector before I start to cook something, this should have been a heads-up I’m about to do something stupid.  The next red flag move is that I pull out the fire extinguisher before I start to cook anything (I set fire to the stove boiling spaghetti the other day).  The final red flag is that I was begging–and I mean begging–the food not to do anything I didn’t want it to do.  When you are saying, “Please work” to anything, it is a prayer of the desperate and should signal you are in a bad situation and, if you can control it, you shouldn’t do it.  
 
Despite knowing all of this, I’m still wondering what happened to all the hair on my right arm.  When I burn down the house and start the wild fire that destroys Vail valley, you’ll know what happened.    
 
For the good of humanity, I’m going to just purchase pre-made food for the rest of my life.  
 
Further Bulletins as Events Warrant
 

My resignation as Head of Broncos Super-fan: I am responsible for the loss

13 Jan
I would like to submit my resignation as a Head of Broncos Super fans.  I do so with a heavy heart.  I think it is in the best interest of the reservation if I go into exile because I am responsible for the Broncos stunning upset loss on Saturday.
I know my sudden retirement shocks many of you given my super-fan commendations, which include:
1)  Spending both Broncos’ Super Bowl wins in the painful company of a psychopathic couple and their narcissist daughter
2) Sitting in a bathroom for an entire game–including when other people where using it–because the team did better when I was in the restroom
3) Once breaking up a successful relationship when she disclosed she was a Raider’s fan.  I didn’t want to do it, but her influence could adversely affect the team
4)  I earned a reward for growing up and getting over my hatred of Peyton Manning and being able to work with him even though he was a sworn enemy for years.  My love of the Broncos was greater than my hatred.  This showing of maturity led me to my most recent position: Head of Super-fan
My sudden retirement is due to I’m the reason the Ravens pulled off a dramatic upset–in what could be considered one of the greatest playoff games of all time–because I made the fatal mistake of obtaining a ticket to the AFC championship game, which was supposed to be held in Denver.  To further garuantee the loss, I was making plans to attend the Super Bowl because I randomaly know someone who has tickets only if the Broncos went.
These plans were pure hubris on my part because, if you knew my past attending playoff games and, really, any sports games in general, I should have known I was making a mistake.  For you see, I was present when the Broncos were the number one seed with John Elway and they were upset by Jacksonville back in the nineties.  I was there when they were, once again, the number one seed and lost to the Steelers with Plumber.  I knew my mere presence, or planned presence, would impact the game.  I choose not to attend the electrifying Tebow lead Bronco victory over the Steelers in the playoffs because I knew my record.  Only from home, with no plans to go to the game and living in the present, could I be head of Super-fans.
But, I got arrogant.
I believe my previous successes blinded me to the reality I am no longer objective.  When history judges me, I would like them to say I cared too much.  With that, I will always love the team and I will never give up my NFL Sunday ticket, but I am no longer fit to serve as a representative and gentleman of Orange.
Burdened with Sadness

Learning how to Cook: I give up

12 Jan

One of my goals for the past six months has been to teach myself how to cook.  I imagined myself a maven and master of the kitchen.  The guy who could walk into a frat house pantry and wipe-up a feast worthy of state dinners.  That’s not what happened.  What happened was I have successfully set fire to my kitchen on multiple occasions, I’ve burned myself, and have given myself a permanent case of food poising.  I mean, my stomach hurts all the time.  I now know all of the fire fighters because they’ve been to my place so many times.

Given the fact I’m a stubborn idiot who doesn’t give up, I kept going.  I decided to change tactics, though, and focus on simple recipes.    Yesterday, I decided to make a very simple recipe: braised red cabbage.  This is one of the recipes people ate in the movie The Christmas Story.  

It looked easy.  It said it was easy.  A comment on the website I pulled it from mentioned their brain damaged nephew could make it.  I thought I could pull it off.  HAHAHAHAHA!  Poor, naive, me.  The cooking G-ds hate me and instead of ending up with magnificent feast I always dreamed of, I ended up in the bathroom the entire night.
So, I’ve decided to give up on learning how to cook.  Since I’m an optimist (read: stupid), I decided to focus on what I could make.  This exhaustive list includes such things as:
1) toasted bagels
2) spaghetti
3) simple sandwiches
 and,
…that’s it.
I figure, if I take vitamins, I won’t die of malnutrition with this diet.
That’s my rant for today.  Go Broncos!
Further Bulletins as Events Warrant

Memo to World: Things I’m not good at

8 Jan
Things I’m not good at: 
Parallel parking, physics, foreign languages, trigonometry, and understanding why people follow the WWF.  I can’t cook bacon, prepare a meal other than spaghetti, and giving up TV for more than 24 hours.  I’m bad at spelling, remembering names, making new friends, and being popular with parents.  I’m not good at developing abs you could grate cheese on, taking orders, or shopping. I suck at taking vacations, traveling, or responding well to any change in my routine.  I’m really bad at digesting most food, cleaning, and remember to do my laundry.  I’m missing the part of my brain which understands why people go to church, believe in G-d, or why people gamble.  
 
Things I’m good at:
Finding new and interesting ways to publicly embarrass myself given the limited amount of time I spend among people…such as, I don’t know…walking to the bank in pants which don’t fit, forget to put a belt on, catch the pant leg on my boots, and my pants get pulled off in front a bus full of tourists from Australia parked in front of a gas station who started to scream “Hey, Mate!”  I decided to file this memory under the “I’m here to help department.”

The Mayan End of the World – What Time Zone will it Occur in?

20 Dec

This question is taking over my life.  Some people think the end of the world will occur tomorrow due to the incredible tight logic the Mayan Calender–written thousands of years ago–stops.  Never-mind the fact the calender was written on stone with concentric circles and ends because they seem to have run out of room.  The question I have for the doomsday believers are: what time zone does the apocalypse occur in?  I mean, the world exists in different time zones, so, if the world suddenly comes to an end, what time zone will it end on?  My conclusion is that it will be in central time or mountain time because that is where the Mayan Empire existed in.  This means everyone else in, say, ET, world will end at either 1 or 2 AM on the next day.  This presents a logic problem: how can the Mayan’s be accurate if the world ends on a different day for everyone else in the world?  

My Letter to Santa

17 Dec

Dear Santa:

 
I understand we haven’t had the smoothest relationship over the years.  Please reference my letter from 1985 when I didn’t get the samurai sword I asked for and 1988 when I didn’t find the playboy bunny of the year under the tree.  I trust this year you will rectify these over-sights and obviously, if I actually buy a Christmas tree, don’t forget that it is Christmas day, and stop referring to the winter celebration as a Pagan holiday, you’ll place these things under my tree so I can wake-up to them on this most important Pagan morning…oops…I mean Christmas morning.  
 
For my list this year, I would like the following things:
1) Not have my designated driver come up to me and say, “Here, you take the keys; I’m too drunk to drive.”
2) Never hear the phrase “Retail Therapy” again
3) Not have my nephews stink up my place when they show up and continue to have my place smell, well, like nothing
4) Continue my streak of never changing a diaper
5) Not hear the following phrases from my day-to-day conversations: “Skull f***, sodomized by a nail gun, worse than a chlamydia test.”
and, most importantly, 
6) Stop believing I am responsible for the Broncos wins and losses so I don’t watch every game in the same place, wearing the same clothes (which I haven’t washed)
 
Thank you very much for your time.  This year, I promise to turn off the fire-place and not leave out glutton free cookies left un-eaten.  
 
Chris
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