I'm a little slow today. I just switched to Sanka. So...have a heart?

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Even though I'm old... I'm not.


I'm up late.

And I'm watching TBS or some crap like that.

And this "Full House" commercial comes on about Kimmy Gibbler (hey, Kim, if you read this!)... and in the commercial, they showed Stephanie and D.J.'s room when they shared one...

And as I watched the commercial, I thought, "I used to be jealous of that room..." And while reflecing on the early 90's decor I onced coveted, it dawned upon me... that even though I just turned 26, and am at an age where I could be saddled with kids and a mortgage and someone else to support... I still look at "Full House" and remember feeling jealousy at their awesome room, and it doesn't feel like that long ago that I was jealous. (Comparatively...)

My room was fine growing up... But their room was like... an Ikea catalog! And I wanted it.

I feel like emotions are some of the first memories to fade, so the fact that I still remember these emotions at television shows, shows how recent they were. (Comparatively). I guess fourteen or fifteen years, while it sounds like a lot, really isn't that long.

It's weird. To watch TV and remember when it was new. And to be taken right back to that Friday in 1990 when you watched that Full House for the first time... and then watched Perfect Strangers and Family Matters and that other horrible sappy SitCom (one with Jerry Levine, and they had a Polynesian maid named "Peenie" and that was just about the funniest thing I had ever seen on T.V., probably to this day...) It's strange to watch something that now looks so dated, and realize that it wasn't that long ago that it was new, and it wasn't so long ago that you wished you had D.J.'s and Stephanie's room...

It sort of puts age in perspective. Not that I'm having a mid-life crisis - I realize that I'm still a baby. But maybe we should start counting age from when we remember things. So, if we subtract the years that we don't really remember, from our actual ages... I'm 17... (Okay. 23.)

Dear Simmons Family:

Dear Gene Simmons and Simmons Family:

You're sort of like my family. I want to be an adopted child. We'd get along well. You're all smart and funny and Jewish. Your dad is kind of like my dad.

Everyone gets along well...and is funny, like in my family.

And on top of everything else... you're super rich.

Adopte me.



An Open Letter to the Malls of South Florida:

Dear Bal Harbour, Merrick Park, Sunset Place and The Falls, respectively:

Your architects should be shot.

I do not understand WHY they insisted on building malls without ceilings. Guess what? For six months out of the year, it's hot as hell, and as humid as Louisiana in August. Do you want to go shopping when you've sweat through your underwear? I know I don't.

Yeah, for about two months out of the year, it's possible to wander around and shop without sweating, and yes, we have beautiful weather for about six months out of the year. But guess what else?! If I'm SHOPPING, I've chosen to forgo the beautiful weather and shop. Or else, newsflash, I'm SHOPPING, because the weather SUCKS, and I don't WANT to be outside, I want to be INSIDE, spending money.


In Maryland, it's also beautiful weather for half the year. Between April through September, it's gorgeous! But you don't see people in Maryland building outdoor malls, do you? No. Because between October through April, it's cold, and could snow. (Probably not in October, but stranger things have happened.) And no one wants to go slugging through an open-air mall in the snow, or in the freezing cold.

Well, the converse is true in Florida. Between November through April, it's nice enough to have an open air mall, but between April through November, it's like a goddamn sauna in this state. Who wants to go shopping in a Sauna?

Not I, McFly. I don't LIKE swimming from store-to-store.

You're KILLING your possible revenues for these places, you know that? I don't spend nearly as much money as I would otherwise, and do you know why? Because the absence of a roof, and air-conditioned enclosure between the stores, means that on the long, muggy trip between Bloomingdales and Banana Republic, or between Neiman Marcus and Express, I've worked up quite a sweat, and don't want to THINK about draping myself with more fabric.

In Maryland, I have no problem spending money. Oh, sure, the mall is too hot, in EVERY SEASON there too, in Summer it's too hot and in Winter it's like an oven, but, although I dampen whatever I'm trying on, I don't full-on soak it.

Not the case down here. I can make that $100.00 shirt become a $25.00 sale item in ten seconds flat, because of the salt-rings on the back and on the stomach.

It's typical, though, and doesn't surprise me that open-air malls keep being built. People in South Florida are idiots. They've released several National Studies affirming the same.

All I have to say is this: you're only hurting yourself. I know it goes along with the whole "Tropical" image of Miami to have an open air mall, and I know for the tourists it's a great novelty, but let's face it: they're only here when it's nice to shop in those places. For the remainder of the year, it's the residents that actually keep your stores afloat, and if the residents can't bring themselves to do serious shopping outside of the timeframe between November and March, well, everyone has a problem, don't they?

Think about it. Slap on a roof. Install a mega-air-conditioning system. Close off those stupid streets that run through the malls (See, Sunset Place) and I think once you've set the thermostats at 70 degrees in all those malls, you'll see a large increase in July, August and September sales.

That's my two cents.