Ode To Disneyland

Oh what fun we have had this past year,
I have many great memories with friends to treasure,
And thrills and chills and spills to fondly remember,
Through tough times you've helped me cope,
Given me a magical place in which to escape,
Reminded me that in dark times joy can still be found,
Lifted me up from the mud and left me inspired,
Oh what a year that will never be forgotten,
But all good things must come to an end.

Chasing through a galaxy far far away,
Racing at night through beautiful Radiator Springs,
Whipping around in the dark after my favorite optical illusion,
Soarin' above magnificent California,
Dancing in a cute tiny car to infectious Italian music,
Oooohing and Aaaahing at spectrous ghosts,
Giggling and sighing at pervy pirates,
Jerking the wheel to avoid giant rolling balls,
Holding on for dear life in bobsleds and tractors,
Shooting frantically to get the highest score,
Spinning as fast as I can in a blur of lanterns,
Screaming after getting wetter than I wanted,
But all good things must come to an end.

Dropping my jaw at the wonders of water and color,
Gasping at projections of light and explosions of fire,
Partying with Mad Hatters and bright nights full of paint,
Drawing decently for the first time in my life,
Sniping colorful ears with my lethal paint brush,
Eating the best corn dogs the world has ever seen,
Waving to heroes and villains and mascots,
Laughing at punny acts and tour guides,
Groovin' with DJ and breaking it down at random,
Drooling over cute dancers and actors,
Or just sitting and watching the people go by,
But all good things must come to an end.

The lines could be far too long and boring,
The long treks between rides and parks fatiguing,
At times elbow to elbow with no room to breathe,
Getting clipped by badly driven strollers,
Grumbling at snails in the guise of humans,
Rolling my eyes at the clueless sudden stoppers,
Zig-zagging through the aimless and oblivious,
Melting under the hot unforgiving sun,
Paying way too much for parking and souvenirs, 
But still there was beauty and joy to be found,
With patience and grace the obnoxious ignored,
The negative always overshadowed by the positive,
But all good things must come to an end.

The final day did not go as planned,
For Flo's milkshake gave me food poisoning,
Still I went because I'm stubborn and dumb,
Nauseous and tired I braved the crowds,
To get one last day before I said goodbye,
I had asked for a nice and chill relaxed day,
And I got much more than I bargained for,
But it was actually a quite fitting finale,
For I do not have to worry about missing you too much,
After poking my head into a trash can and hurling,
I am ready to move on and let you go,
For this good thing has come to an end!

The Rules Of Costco

Fixed it for ya.

Costco is a wonderful place of sweet wholesale pricing. It's also a god damn nightmarish shithole full of assholes. So many idiots and jerks being idiots and jerks, fucking shit up for everyone. It's enough to drive anyone insane and, quite frankly, it's a miracle there aren't riots every single day. If it wasn't for all the asshats, Costco would be a utopia. Well, it actually could be if Costco would just implement some rules and enforce them with a strict three strikes policy. 

As everyone shops, guards would watch every inch of the store via cameras and lunge into action to immediately cite any violators. Their membership card would be scanned and one strike logged against them. They'd be kicked out for the day but allowed to return after that. However, three strikes and you lose your membership for life. Hell, they'd probably barely even have to raise prices by a penny to pay for the enforcement staff and program. It would work like a charm, I'm telling ya!

Rule #1: No Stopping In Main Aisles

Cause there's just nowhere else you could possibly stop that cart.

Nothing brings the flow of cart traffic to a halt like some god damn idiot suddenly stopping in the main aisle to try a free sample or peruse the end-of-aisle items. Look, of course people deserve the freedom to get fatter on sugar-filled free samples or shop items that are inconveniently located on the edge of the main aisle, but that doesn't mean they need stop or leave their cart there. 

For fuck's sake, the store isn't supposed to be an obstacle course. It's the equivalent of stopping in the middle lane of the freeway for a blowout when you absolutely can and should pull over to the shoulder or exit the freeway. Move your cart to just inside the closest side aisle. Then the main aisles are free for their one and only purpose: letting people freely make their way through the damn store.

Rule #2: Never Build A Dam

Look at how much open space there is for parking!

Clearly, we all need to bring our cart to a halt sometimes in order to grab or browse items. Since we've established this can't happen in the main aisles, that means we must do it in the side aisles. So please, have at it. But if you leave your cart in a position that prevents anyone else from moving through the aisle, regardless of whether you're the lone perpetrator or just a coconspirator, you've just built a cart dam. Damn you all to hell, you bastard bitch beavers! It is your responsibility to leave your cart in a position that leaves room for at least a single cart to pass through. I don't care if that means leaving your cart a few feet farther than you'd like. Tough cookies. Don't be a selfish lazy prick.

Rule #3: Strict 10 Items Or Less Checkout

Ah yes, the unavoidable shit-show that is Costco checkout.

Not all of us Costgoers are suburban housewives stocking up on months worth of every single grocery and toiletry item our house of 20 crazy-ass kids needs. Some of us just need a few key items and it's ridiculous that there isn't even one line just for us few item folks. We're doing Costco a favor by not buying so much as that means they're getting a pretty good deal on our membership fee. So reward us by not making us get in line behind six full-carters who take forever to check out. Cell service sucks in your store, so I can't just read my Twitter feed or browse TeeFury while I'm bored.

Rule #4: Strict Old People Hours

You can just see the determination in her face to block everyone.

Okay, look, respect our elders, I love my grandparents and all that jazz...but old people are slow and incompetent. They're terrible on the road but even worse at Costco. Nothing makes the store more miserable than the elderly crawling along at .0000000001 MPH and stopping every two feet in delirious confusion. And since old people love getting up way earlier than everyone else in their right mind, have a few hours early in the day set aside only for old people, and these will be the only hours they're allowed to go. They'll be happy they can shop ungodly early and not have brash youngins whizzing by them, and the rest of us will be absolutely ecstatic they're not in our way. Everybody wins!

Rule #5: Kids Must Be In Cart At All Times

Fuck you. You're not that cute.

Costco is not a playground. It is a place for serious business. When it's playtime, I'll cheerfully run amok and play with your offspring cause I'm pretty a fucking awesome babysitter, but Costco is not that time nor place. Keep your little agents of chaos confined within the cart. If they escape, anyone is allowed to run them over with no social consequences or legal repercussions. 

An Open Letter To The Jerks That Scammed My Grandpa

Dear Anonymous Jerk(s) who scammed my grandpa out of $1300,

First of all: fuck you. My grandfather is an incredibly kind, loving, generous man who never hesitates to help a loved one in need, and you preyed upon that to scam hard-earned money out of his considerably limited income. He didn't think twice or even blink after your phone call falsely claiming that one of his grandkids was locked up in prison and needed money. He immediately wired it to you because he's a great damn Papa.

You took advantage of what makes him wonderful to steal from him for your own selfish, slimy, despicable, shameful, greedy profit. Now, to be fair, his astounding gullibility does make him partially culpable, but that does not make you any less a villain. In fact, that only makes you even more vile for exploiting such naive innocence. So, again: fuck you.

My initial reaction was a desire to Liam Neeson the shit out of you, combining my amateur sleuthing and forensic skills—gained from watching every episode of Sherlock, Elementary, and CSI (original only, of course), as well as reading every Sherlock Holmes book—with my second-degree black belt ninja skills to find you, beat you to a bloody pulp, and take back my grandpa's money right out of your stupid jerkface hands! Pay no attention to the fact that I haven't really practiced martial arts in a decade, or that all those shows and books are full of pulpy placations that make for great entertainment but aren't really educational or accurate. I totally would have found-and-pound you.

However, that was just my immediate emotional reaction. With just a tiny bit more thought and reflection, I've realized I don't need to fight you, seek revenge or even justice. You're already harming yourself quite enough. You profit by taking advantage of others, cheating people out of their own wealth. Wealth that they need. You gain only by harming others. Ironically, you're actually harming yourself more than your victims.

You clearly are not happy and can not be happy living such a life. I'm sure at times you think you are happy, but you are not. It is not possible to be happy when your livelihood or source of shits-and-giggles comes from harming others. Such actions are a distraction, a cover-up from the fact that deep down you are not happy and loathe yourself more than anyone or anything in the entire universe. If you loved yourself and had love for others, you would be making efforts to help and care for others instead. Since you are not, all you have done is outed yourself as a lonely miserable person. When you live a life of hate, apathy, or selfishness, no one will ever love you and you will never love yourself.

So, although I'm still furious and wish you a boisterous "fuck you" with a "P.S. Go fuck yourself," really I just pity and feel sad for you. Your life is currently a rather glum tale, and it doesn't have to be. If you lived life more like my grandpa, being kind, generous, and loving, you would know a life of love and happiness. For your sake, and for the sake of my grandpa's bank account, I hope you figure that out.

Love,

Kevin Long
Grandson Of The Awesome Grandpa You Scammed

The Leftbehinds

Throughout the first quarter of our lives, we all progress at the same rate. We move from grade to grade with our friends and peers through elementary, middle, high school, and finally college. Unless you're one of the rare geniuses who leaps forward early or one of the academically challenged who has to repeat a grade, it's all lockstep together.  

And then one day that suddenly ends and all hell breaks loose. No longer is everyone moving forward together in organized concert; everyone now moves all over the life map in total and utter chaos. Marriage, kids, and career come to us on wildly different timetables. Some lucky bastards get all three right out of the gate. Some get married soon but don't have kids or advance far in their career right away. Some get married, have kids right away and put the career on the backburner. Some of us wait for-fucking-ever for marriage, kids, and career. Some get one, two, or three but then abandon marriages and/or career. Some abandon the kids too...jerks!

There are lots of different combinations for these timetables, and though our actions have some influence over them, a lot of it—especially with marriage and career—comes down to blind luck. For those of us that don't luck out quickly, it's a challenge sometimes in those early days but really isn't that bad. In our twenties, it's easy to comfort ourselves with the thought that our day is coming soon. After all, we have our whole lives ahead of us. We're young and free! We can just enjoy the ride and have a lot of fun. No reason to worry yet.

However, once our thirties roll around, that slowly begins to change until one day we snap. Suddenly we don't have our whole lives ahead of us; a lot of it is already behind us. We're not so young and we don't feel so free anymore. We can't just enjoy the ride and have fun. We need to do something with our lives. We need to join the clubs: The Marriage Club, The Kids Club, and The Career Club. By this point, most of our friends are members of at least one, if not two or three. We no longer feel like we're all in it together, patiently biding our time. 

Now, it seems that all of a sudden, we're The Leftbehinds. It feels like complete shit. People can throw all the intellectual logic, reason, and philosophy possible at us in an attempt to assure us that it's okay, it's not our fault, our time is still coming, everyone has a different journey, it's all random luck, you can't compare yourself to anyone but your old self, etc. Sometimes, it can help, but it really can't stop us from feeling like shit. What we do with those feelings and how we handle them is absolutely under our control, but having those feelings is not. It's just going to happen, plain and simple.

Being a Leftbehind feels terrible because it feels like you're the kid that got left behind and had to repeat a grade. Why did that kid get left behind? Because they literally failed. Whether it was not doing the work or they couldn't comprehend it, something about them was defective. You feel like that kid: there's something wrong with you. And it's not just one grade. You're stuck in third grade while all your friends are already graduating high school. You're the pathetic adult loser going to school with children. Holy shit, you're Billy Madison! Fuck, no one wants to be Adam Sandler anymore. People can assuage you all day and all night, but it won't stop you from feeling like a failure.

Moreover, the misery is magnified with loneliness because you know the non-Leftbehinds do not understand what it feels like, as much as they try and as much as they care. They can empathize to their best ability, they can imagine what those shoes feel like, but they won't know until they've lived it. It's like if someone you care about has somebody really close to them die. Unless that's happened to you, you don't actually know how it feels. You can make a decent guess, but there are certain emotions that have to be personally experienced to be fully comprehended. When you know the people trying help you don't truly know what it feels like, you feel isolated and alone and their attempts to help you can make you feel even worse. It's the cursed cruel cherry on top of the sad somber sundae.

A big part of why we feel awful in the first place, I think, is because we were never trained on the chaos of life. In fact, for the first quarter of lives, we were trained in the exact opposite: rigid order of life. We all progressed at the same rate, so we still expect that to happen. Even if some wise adults tell us differently, all the evidence we've seen so far points to it. It's all we know. So it's a pretty big kick to the face when it turns out that isn't how the world works, and then a bigger kick to the nuts that no one trained us how to handle it psychologically. It's no wonder a lot of us end up having mental breakdowns. We're thrown into the ocean without having been taught to swim. Hell, we're not even given a floaty. Oh, and guess what, we're in shark infested waters!

I don't have all the answers to how we could train kids—or us adults already drowning in the ocean—to be prepared for this mental and emotional gut-punch, but clearly we need to do something. There are, of course, other reasons this is hard to deal with. Our culture places so much emphasis on marriage, kids, and career as measures of success and happiness, that it's inevitable we feel terrible when we're not achieving them. Placing more emphasis on self-improvement and hard work, regardless of results, would go a long way. However, it's a complex issue with a lot of threads, so I sure as heck am not arrogant enough to think one blog post nails it.

Hopefully, however, this gives some insight into why lots of Leftbehind adults in their thirties and up feel crummy. On behalf of The Leftbehinds, I humbly request that society immediately get to work on figuring out how to prepare kids for the random, chaotic, and unfair progress of adult life. It's not just for the benefit of The Leftbehinds, it's as much for the benefit of those around us too: less existential meltdowns to witness and help with!