Re: Häagen-Dazs®

Dear Mrs. and Mr. Mattus,

This blog entry originally started out as a love letter to Häagen-Dazs® Baileys® Irish Cream Ice Cream, the love of my taste buds' life. But as I started writing it, and it did come easy, I decided that perhaps instead I should be writing a thank you letter to the Häagen-Dazs family for creating this ice cream that I love so much. I proceeded by first researching this wonderful Scandinavian family. If you are reading this, Mrs. and Mr. Mattus, I am sure you know where the rest of this letter is going, but I would like to spell it out for you anyway.

First off, I found that Häagen-Dazs is not a Scandinavian family name. Nor is it two hyphenated Scandinavian family names. Häagen and Dazs are actually two made up words that just look Scandinavian (to everyone except for Scandinavians, who just assume they must be German). I read this, and thought to myself: 'Hmm. Maybe the actual Scandinavian family behind Häagen-Dazs® just wanted to make up an original company name instead of using their own last name. I can understand that.' But at that point a spark of doubt formed in my head and I decided to research further, just in case anything else was not what it seemed. Guess what I found out.

Häagen-Dazs® ice cream was created by a Polish-American family from the Bronx of New York and is produced in North America. In fact, absolutely nothing about Häagen-Dazs® has anything to do with Scandinavia.

What the hell?

I have been eating this magnificent combination of deliciousness, filled with 250 calories per half a cup (minimal possible ingestion at one sitting being four times that), telling myself that 'It's ok. I can eat these Scandinavian calories; they are foreign, so it's like being on vacation. Everyone needs a vacation!'

Ignorance was beautiful beautiful bliss. But now that reality has hit I know that I have been consuming American ice cream calories all this time, a lot of them. Apparently what I thought was a semi-liquid vacation, turned out to be a trap. A delicious American-fat-ass-making trap. Furthermore, since I have been consuming this frozen once-upon-a-time-a-vacation-recently-discovered-trap for so long, I cannot even stop myself from future consumption; although your product is not physically addictive, it certainly is emotionally. I have been tricked, and now I am stuck.

So thank you, Mrs. and Mr. Mattus, for creating this bliss-destroying lie. Perhaps next time you should conceal it a little better.

Driven (and now also Sad)

The Power of a Crossing Guard

One of my students and I were driving around today, practicing turns at intersections with lights. We were coming up to a red light at which we were planning to turn right. As we got closer, we noticed a crossing guard standing at the corner, observing us. We approached the light, made our stop, and slowly began moving up to see if the lane we were intending to turn into was free. As soon as we set the car in motion, the crossing guard's hand (occupied by a stop sign) went up. We stopped, assuming someone was about to cross in front of us. We waited; no one crossed. A couple of seconds later, the stop sign was lowered. I looked to the crossing guard for an eye-contact explanation, and instead received an intense blank look.

We began moving up again, and immediately the stop sign was flipped up. We stopped; however, this time we made it far enough into the intersection to notice that the side walk was empty, in both directions. Very very empty. No people; no cars. I again looked to the crossing guard, who was now staring at me very seriously while continuing to firmly hold the stop sign up, for an explanation; none was given. My student, slightly confused, looked to me for advice; I, less confused, told him "Ignore the crazy".

We proceed to turn while I continued to stare down the guard who, once we were half way through our turn, faced the stop sign in another direction and began to wave us on as if the only reason why we could even perform the turn was because she was doing us a favour by holding back all other traffic.

Thank you Crazy. Just imagine what a terrible turn my life could have taken if someone insisted that crossing guards had to pass psychological evaluations prior to receiving their Mighty Scepters of Stopping.

Saying "Thank You" On The Road

It is a simple gesture. Just lift one hand high enough so that the driver that deserves your thanks, can see it; similar to when you lift a hand and extend a finger to those that have pissed you off, but without the finger extension.

Why would you do this thanking thing? To show people you appreciate them doing something nice for you, and to encourage them to continue doing these nice things and passing on the love; just like showing those that have done you wrong, that you hate them and to remind them that people will hate them as long as they continue on doing stupid shit.

So now, lets review: Thanking people is just a hand lift; hating people involves a hand lift and a finger extension. Clearly, showing hate takes double the work of showing thanks; so why does nearly every person on the road have the energy for the hate, but hardly anyone has the energy for the thanks?

Because, when it comes to the core of our existence, most humans are selfish pricks who expect respect. Since there is an expectation, when it is given, there is no appreciation; however, as soon as there is a lack of, it is immediately noticed.

Unless we all put in a bit more effort to be nice, eventually everyone will feel the effects of the free flowing hate; and free flowing it is. So, instead, lets try not to be pricks all the time. If you are a driver, try to say "thank you" if someone does something nice for you on the road; start a crazy chain reaction. If you do not drive, try to say "thank you" for some other reason. We do not have to be assholes. I am almost positive.