Effective Travel Tips for the Effective Traveler

When traveling abroad there’s an ass load of things to consider – weather, socioeconomic status, and the countries general feelings on nudity and the odds of seeing a naked lady on television.

But! Weary traveler, life is not all bed knobs and broomsticks out there in the world! The world, if the news is to believed (it’s not), is possibly the most dangerous place ever and stepping out of your house, much less your country means certain doom, death, disease, dismemberment and disaster (the five "d's" of journalism).

But! Should you feel the call of the wild, the need to go out into the wilds and cross some stuff off your bucket list, it’s good to have an idea of what you’re dealing with. Sure, you can watch the Travel Channel, visit Lonely Planet, read Alex Garland’s The Beach, or read a guidebook.

No thank you to all that I say.

So here are some tips!

1. Avoid embarrassment; always check the local laws first. This cannot be stressed enough. Discovering once you’ve arrived at your destination that there was no need to keister what you keistered before you left is embarrassing and hard to explain to your friends, family and coworkers.
2. Try not to kill any of the locals either on purpose or on accident. This is good advice no matter where you are, unless your trip involves traveling through time to a time where you could get away with that behavior.
3. If you’re someplace that doesn’t accept the American Dollar (USA! USA!) as acceptable currency, shout at the cashier “I’M FROM AMERICA!” over and over until they accept it. (USA! USA!)
4. While trying to work out where to take your annual summer trip and it comes down to Paris or France, relax they are the same place.
5. While ordering food in a restaurant, remember that “tripe” is a cow’s stomach lining. So it’s up to you if you want to eat it or not. I wouldn’t. Blech!
6. Remember, USA! USA! USA! Oh, yeah, that’s right!
7. If you’re feeling amorous, but the downstairs needs a little pick-me-up, remember that anything that aims to solve “virility” or “potency” problems is probably made from an animals penis, testicles, lymph nodes, or fetus. Now try “doin’ it.” You can't, can you? Didn't think so.
8. USA! USA!
9. When communicating with the locals in Mexico, simply add an “ah” or an “oh” sound to the end of your words, depending on the gender agreement or whatever sounds good. Spanish-ah is easy-oh!
   
10. Some places will cut your head/hands/penis off if you’re pinched for drunk driving. So…yeah.
11. Eastern European Hostels’ are bait for rich Eastern European’s to recreationally catch and then recreationally dismember tourists. It’s your own fault for being in Eastern Europe, I mean really.
    
12. Reconsider where your life went wrong if you’re someplace that requires a Sherpa. Lets dial it down Sir Edmund Hilary.

Those are just the tips that I could think of. It’s your own fault if you follow them. Or if you don’t. I don’t care. I’m not leaving my house.

USA!

Facebook

I'm giving some serious thought to starting a Facebook group for myself. There is only one reason to do such a thing, I AM IN LOVE WITH ME.

Where The Wild Things Are

I recently went to see Where the Wild Things Are.

First off, I wasn't really into this book. Second off, what the fuck. The book left me, a kid with a lot of time on his hands, with a lot of questions -

1) Did parents REALLY send kids to bed without dinner?
2) How did he live on the boat for a year?
3) Where the hell was this island?
4) Why was he so okay with the monsters?
5) Had Max seen ANY Godzilla movies? Because if he had, he'd have known that an island full of monsters is bad news. It's an island of god damned monsters.

The movie, like the book, was beautiful. The design of everything, the burned out forest, the monsters fort, the amber colored sand dunes - gorgeous. The Wild Things were especially well done. The way they moved and interacted with their world was fantastic.

But other than that, the movie was...cold. I mean the voice acting was good. The regular acting was good. But, yeah...

The movie wasn't made for kids. It was made for adults who read the book when they were kids.

Spike Jones did a great job capturing the isolation and loneliness that kids go through - in that phase where they just don't get along with the rest of the world.

But he forgot the fun. If you're going to escape into a fantastic world, even if it's in your imagination, it should be fun. I want clues into where this island was, how the monsters got there etc.

Any kid who played with action figures knows you have to reconcile certain things - like why the Star Wars figure is with the GI Joe figure, why the ships/vehicles are of different scale, and where that Barbi came from when you're an only child and don't have any sisters.

But instead of fun, the movie was all mopey, whiny, bullshit.

Everybody (except me) Dies

Like anyone in a tedious and mundane job, I spend most of my day daydreaming about death. Sometimes it's my death, sometimes it's someone else. It helps pass the time. Like anyone, I want to be remembered after I'm dead, I want to live forever in the pop culture lexicon - like Mr. Henne, the Balloon Dad, Jon & Kate and even Octomom. But unlike those go-getters, I plan to be remembered for my apathy and for having a really great funeral. I'm talking balloons, fireworks, maybe the cast of Mystere.

Before I get too carried away, let me be clear, I am never going to die. Like Hugh Heffner, Woodie Allen and Phoebe Cates. But if I were to die, which I'm not, it would be a good idea to have a plan. [NOTE: I can't plan my life for shit, but that's not the point.]

So, here is a list of people who I demand speak positively about me after my death (my hypothetical death, because I'm never going to die).

In no particular order...

(1) Frodo Baggins - Frodo is a good choice, if I do say so myself. I like his moxie. He's hip. He's happening.

(2) Bilbo Baggins - You can't have one Baggins without the other. I expect Bilbo to regale the crowd with tales of our journey through the Misty Mountains and how we fought dragon Smaug.

(3) Jay Z - I mean, really, why not? I think he would say nice things. He can even do songs off his less popular Blue Print album. Nas is a good substitute should Jay Z be unavailable.

(4) The Tree that was in my yard for the 6 months I lived in Denver - Trees are nice. They are good for climbing and building tree houses in and for being awesome.

(5) Stephen Fry - Everything seems nicer when Stephen Fry is talking about it. Besides, STEPHEN FRY!

(6) Alternate Universe Me - Fringe style me (who will probably have a sweet facial scar) to come and talk about me. Who knows me better than me, right? Right!

There is no reason why this can't work, why all these people can't come together to talk about my awesomeness and mourn my passing. I also don't see any problems with (a) I don't know these people, (b) not all of them are people, and (c) some of them are fiction. This is America. Make it happen.

A list of drinks that I made up:

Drink 1) 1 oz grenadine, 1 oz grenadine, 1 oz grenadine, 1 splash peach schnapps. It's called the "Toothache."

Drink 2) 1 cup whiskey, 1 cup whisky, 1 cup bourbon. "It's called the I Hate Myself."

Drink 3) 1 tall glass of water, 1 tall bottle of sleeping pills. It's called the "Goodbye Cruel World."

Drink 4) 12 beers (consumed in 30 minutes). It's called the "I Hate The World, But Overall I'm All Right With Myself, Except For Maybe My Waist line."

Drink 5) 1 tall glass of tomato juice, 1 plan B pill, 2 ibuprofen. It's called the "Oops".

Bike Ride - what hurts.

Just rode my bicycle for 3 hours and 15 minutes. I was riding up hills, around old people, through groups of moms and their strollers, and keeping up - ever so briefly - with guys who are actually in shape and have been on a bicycle more than once.

My thighs burned, my lungs felt like a furnace. But when I was all done and laying in the backseat of my car, do you know what hurt the most?

My nipples.

My Pathetic Weekend Plans - Saturday Edition

Productivity is my new life's passion, this morning. And it involves making lists of things to do. I know that I have the type of personality that if I don't set a specific time table to accomplish tasks, then I'll sit around all day drinking coffee and thinking that it looks awfully hot outside. So below is my list for today, complete with time table. Get Things Done Bitches: 7-9AM - Ride my bicycle 9-11AM - Wonder why I just took a 2 hour bicycle ride when I have a car and can drive places 11-1130AM - Get the oil changed on my car, get ripped off 1130 -12N - Take bicycle to get a tune up, get ripped off 12 - 1230 - LUNCH 1230 - 3P - Wonder where I went wrong in my life, cry 3 - 313P - Tell my dog to stop doing whatever he's doing, probably clean cat puke 313 - 5P - Stroll through Target, look at coffee makers 5 - 6P - Stroll through Barnes & Noble, but not in a creepy way, wonder again, where I went wrong and how I ended up wandering around Barnes & Noble on a Saturday. 6-8P - Devise a plan to make big changes that will result in money, fame, power. Women will want me, Men will want to be me. I'll be seeing YOU, Jon and Kate Plus 8, on the cover of US Weekly! 8 - 802PM - Decide that my plan is dumb and that it's the same kind of crazy that those mental patients on American Idol subscribe to, cry 802 - 815 - Remember that I should have mowed the lawn today, but it's too late now. Vow to do it tomorrow. Remind myself to figure out why the neighbors lawn is so much greener than mine is. 815PM - 12midnight - Fantasy cast A Game Of Thrones, cry

Employee Recognition Cards

The company I work for likes to recognize its employees for a job well done. This is achieved through the formation of “committees”. We have two committees that I know of. There’s the “Fun Committee” that recognizes fun things and there’s the “Recognition Committee” that recognizes recognizable things.

The Recognition Committee got this idea to put “employee recognition cards” all over the office under the theory that if your peer does something great, you’d fill out one of the cards, put it in one of the Recognition Boxes and then the Recognition Committee would dig it out and post it on the Recognition Wall.

I recently discovered the Recognition Boxes.

I filled them out for everything.

One of my coworkers was moving to Alaska, for which I promptly filled out a recognition card for. “This is to recognize Jim for moving to Alaska.” “This is to recognize Scott for being mostly a jerk instead of a total jerk as per usual.” “This is to recognize Susan for saving the day that one time.” “This is to recognize Jane for boldly using the word ‘breeded’ in a sentence whilst on the phone with a customer who probably knew that ‘breeded’ isn’t a word.”

I lost interest in this exercise after about a week. Then, a month later, one of my coworkers – an emissary if you will - from the Recognition Committee approached me with a handful of Recognition Cards. He was very serious. His breath smelled like truck stop coffee and Marlboro Reds. By his demeanor, I thought he was coming to tell me he hit my car in the parking lot. In a very serious voice he asked me to stop filling out recognition cards. Apparently I wasn’t taking them seriously.

I listened to everything he had to say and, after a brief temper tantrum, told him that I appreciated his coming to me in this matter. It was a good meeting. When he was finished and out of the room I filled out another recognition card recognizing him for talking about recognition card abuse. Lesson learned, sir, lesson learned.