I'll admit it, I was all excited to see a new Nick Coleman column up at the Star-Tribune, but then I read it and realized that it's just so incredibly stupid, illogical, petty and poorly written (even by Coleman's standards), that it just didn't seem fair to kick something into the dirt that was already dragged through the mud by the author himself.
But, I still needed a Nick Coleman fix, so I decided to fish a random story off the Star-Tribune Web page and give it the patented Nick Coleman treatment.
Smoking Ban Rollback Is A Tragedy For Us All
By Nick Coleman
Well, the Minnesota Association for the Promotion of Lung Cancer (MAPLC) got its way this week when Hennepin County commissioners shamefully voted to roll back aspects of its county-wide smoking ban.
That's right, about the only thing we Minnesotans had to be proud of has been yanked out from under us, like a kick to the teeth, like a puff of smoke in the face, like forcing someone to read my columns.
Okay, I just looked it up, and asked a couple of my colleagues, and it turns out there is no such organization called MAPLC. Well, there oughta be. In fact, I may just start MAPLC myself, just so I can complain about it.
Anyway, back to my point, whatever the heck THAT is. Oh, right, the smoking ban rollback. Like I was saying, this is a travesty. Those fat cat Hennepin County Commissioners went and passed a ridiculous amendment that will allow allows "so-called" traditional bars to apply for exemptions to the ban, exemptions that would be in place until 2007. This is obviously asinine, and I don't even know what asinine means! But it sounds like a swear word, so it should probably be banned. I like banning stuff. Where was I, again? Oh, yes, smoking ban rollback.
Well, I was just getting madder and madder, so I decided to go out and discover what a "traditional" bar was. Imagine my surprise when, in the first bar I went to, they were serving, if you can believe this. . . ALCOHOL!
Now, I'm no Constitutional scholar, but I think I know a thing or two, maybe three tops, about the Constitution, and if there's one thing I know, it's that alcohol is illegal in this country. The InterWeb even says so!
After one year from the ratification of this article the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes is hereby prohibited.
That seems pretty cut and dried to me!
I was just informed by my know-it-all colleague, James Lileks, that if I had read a little further I would have seen that the 18th amendment was repealed in 1933. Apparently, those turncoat fat cats on the Hennepin County board were members of Congress in 1933 or something.
Although I was admittedly crestfallen to learn that prohibition was repealed, I was still intent on reporting on this travesty of a smoking ban rollback, so I went straight back to that bar and ordered up a Shirley Temple and started bending some ears.
"I think it's great that people will have a choice of whether to smoke at bars again," said Tina McAfee, 26, who reeked of Jim Beam, cheap perfume, and who initially thought I had come into the bar looking for my son.
I imagine McAfee and her ilk won't be so rosy when they're hooked up to a respirator, coughing up bits of cancer-flecked lung tissue this time next year.
Because that's exactly what this smoking ban rollback is going to mean for Minnesota. Death, death and more death. And fat cats are going to get rich because they're going to find a way to make more potent tobacco out of human corpses.
I hate fat cats.
UPDATE: In addition to fixing the spelling error above, which was "poory written" (thank you very much flamingbanjo), I'd also like to point out that Mr. Cranky has almost certainly caught Nick Coleman in error.
When it comes to buying clothes for others, I generally screw things up in prime fashion. There's the obvious drawback that I have the fashion sense of a grizzly bear but, even more basic, I have no clue what size clothes people wear who aren't me.
This is particularly daunting when I'm out looking for clothes for the opposite gender, which in my case would be women. Women's clothes sizes often perplex me. What is a size six, really? What does it mean to be petite? At what point does a woman become plus size?
All of this came to a head yesterday when I went to the mall with my girlfriend so she could try on jackets and hint at which ones I should consider buying her for Christmas.
After watching my girlfriend try on roughly 1,098 jackets, I decided that, rather than stand there practicing my best impatient stares, it might be better if I start suggesting jackets to her to better speed up the process of her trying on every jacket in the store.
She seemed hesitant, but realizing that it would mean less exasperated breathing from me, she agreed, pointing out that I needed to pick out jackets that are a little larger than her typical clothes size because of all the winter clothes she'd be wearing underneath. So noted.
After awhile, I ambled into a section with leather coats, which were expensive but pretty cool, as most expensive things are. On a lark, I hoisted one off the wall and noticed that it was size "1X." Not having the first clue what "1X" meant, I brought the jacket over to my girlfriend and asked if she wanted to try it on. The look she gave me could have melted most standard-issue steel core doors.
"There's no way that would fit me!" she admonished.
Now, I'm a guy. So, when I hear "there's no way that would fit me," I naturally think, "oh, it's too small." Which of course set the stage for round two of clothing shame.
I went back to where I picked out the jacket, and saw "2X." Naturally, I thought, "that sounds bigger than 1X, so maybe that will fit her." I took the jacket off the wall, and thought briefly that the jacket looked like it would be almost sort of big on me, but whatever.
"Hey, I found a 2X. Want to try it on?"
She blinked at me for a bit, with a look of dumbstruck wonder.
"What's the matter with you? That's obviously not going to fit me!"
Again, my mind translated "not going to fit me" into "that's too small." I was a little surprised, because the 2X I held, in addition to seeming more than big enough, was also really heavy. I was wondering whether my girlfriend was planning on wearing 24 layers of clothes every day this winter. Nevertheless, I went back to the jackets, intent on finding a 3X, which would simply HAVE to be big enough.
It took some hunting, because apparently 3X sizes are very rare, but I finally found one, and I triumphantly returned to my girlfriend, wielding the massive jacket for her to see.
I honestly couldn't see her expression upon reaching her because, quite frankly, the jacket basically blocked her out completely. When I lowered the jacket/tent, my girlfriend was looking at me as though I'd completely lost my mind.
"Don't even think about asking me to try that on!"
"But, I don't think they make anything bigger," I explained.
"Of course they don't! That thing's HUGE! It would never fit me! It would fall right off my shoulders! What are you doing looking for jackets for me in the plus size section anyway?"
"Plus. . . what? What section?" I looked over towards where I found the jacket, and little Christmas lights started blinking and flashing in my head. "Oh. OH! --long string of assorted apologies--"
And that, dear readers, is how you ensure complete silence from your significant other for well over an hour.
