tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25668372872273156892024-02-07T00:51:31.222-05:00Scott Said So!BECAUSE YOU DEMANDED IT! The Blog that is One Man's Take on American Culture with No Holds Barred!
Finally, A Blog Full of Wit, Wisdom, and Insight into the Mind-Numbing World of Americana. Helpful Tips, Insightful Takes, Simple Solutions, and a Smattering of Plain Old Common Sense...for a Change.Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-79950569512171315412012-02-24T09:47:00.000-05:002012-04-29T16:46:25.380-04:00Traverse City Microbrew and Music Festival<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
For those in Michigan looking for a good time, northern resort town Traverse City (up towards the tip of your mitten's pinkie, for those in the know) offers quality entertainment options throughout the year. Hosting a burgeoning Comedy Festival that brings in top quality names, and gaining national recognition for a Film Festival that packs in celebs and tourists from both of the "other" coasts, TC is a destination for fun year-round set right on the shore of the Third Coast.<br />
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One of the most popular annual attractions offered by Traverse City is actually offered twice a year. Porterhouse Production's Microbrew and Music Festival takes place once in August and again in February, offering diverse talents in independent music and the broad palette of microbrew beer businesses to strut their stuff and present their wares to a growing and demographically diverse audience. I was lucky enough to attend this year's winter event with the lovely and talented Amy J. McIntosh, whose knowledge of the independent music scene is only matched by her insight into the magic and majesty that is Michigan's growing microbrew community.<br />
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The outdoor venue for the 3rd Annual Traverse City Winter Microbrew and Music Festival was again at the venerable Commons, once a state-run hospital; a nice return to open spaces and warm tents compared to last year's event that for some reason was held in town in long, crowded, cold tents. Set up in the sprawling campus yard, a horse-shoe of tents each contained an array of five to ten craft beers and a different musical theme. Amy and I enjoyed the Dragon Wagon rocky-folksy wonderment; the Keilbasa Kings fan-damn-tastic Polka, and of course the always happening Silent Disco, where patrons plug into ear pieces and dance silently to the bewilderment of the unknowing bystanders. At the center, three large bonfires served as gathering places for smiling faces and pink cheeks ranging from young twenty-somethings to older couples and aging gangs of long-time friends. The mix of the new-old venue and temperate climes made for a great day of good music, laughter, and excellent craft beers.<br />
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Amy introduced me to a variety of makes and manufacturers of these small-batch beers, most brewed and bottled right here in Michigan. It is easy to become lost among the levels of color, depth, and texture that the microbrew world offers. From IPAs to stouts and back again, a beginner may be overwhelmed by the generous offerings on hand. And based just on sight or smell or name alone, the uninitiated may be turned away at first glance before having sampled some of the best tasting beers to come along in years. Some jumped out at the senses with strong bouquets or harsh combinations of flavors, but most were appealing to both newcomers and connoisseurs alike. Luckily, I had Amy to guide me along the route, like an alcohol-laden game of Candy Land, leading me past Molasses Swamp and through the sugary-sweet wanna-bes to those brews of quality and worth. Of our favorites, -- and believe me, it took aaaaaall day to sample the dozens of designer beers in each of the four humongous tents,-- we included these top four which both Amy and I agreed were interesting to drink, unique to the palate, but not overwhelming or intimidating. Arbor Brewing Company's Ryeclops; Short's Brewing Company's Hopslam; Left Foot Charley's Cinnamon Girl; and Great Lakes Brewing Company's Dortmunder Gold.<br />
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The Ryeclops was heady and flavorful, and was easily one of the best brews at the event alongside the aromatic and wonderful Hopslam. Both were beefy, in-your-face tastes that stood their ground but never overpowered the palate. Amy raved about the Dortmunder Gold, which had a silky smooth taste that complimented both its color and its body. And thank God for the Cinnamon Girl, served hot, this warming cider went down all-too smoothly, and kept my charming companion and I toasty and toasted. <br />
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All in all, the Traverse City Microbrew and Music Festival was an experience that any tourist, lover of independent music, beer enthusiast, or local-born native might just consider the perfect warming weekend.<br />
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For more information on these beers, or for information on the next Traverse City Microbrew and Music Festival in August of 2012, make sure to check out <a href="http://www.porterhouseproductions.com/">Porterhouse Productions</a> or go to brownpapertickets.com.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-17839480625277500942011-02-09T18:38:00.000-05:002012-04-29T17:13:22.447-04:00The Bittersweet Anticipation of the Super Hero Movies<a href="http://captainamerica.marvel.com/">http://captainamerica.marvel.com/</a><br />
<a href="http://thor-marvel.com/">http://thor-marvel.com/</a><br />
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Ok. <br />
I've waited 40 years for this to happen, and I better not be disappointed. I'm just saying.<br />
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2011 and 2012 could possibly present the biggest and most soul-satisfying movie-going summers of my entire life, and I say that with no undo hyperbole, friends and neighbors. Those of you that know me understand that I am and always have been a certified, dyed in the wool comic book enthusiast. Not a Fan, with pointy ears and a geeky smirk and that "i've-never-seen-a-boobie" look on my acne-smeared face, but an Enthusiast, one who truly appreciates the medium as an art form, a hobby, and an investment to certain extents. As a teacher, I was always a proporter of the comic as a way to get students reading -- as many curriculum make reading a chore and could take the fun out of sharpening a pencil, I always encouraged my students to read anything they wanted to read, within reason. Comic books not only encourage students to read with high-interest material, they foster an appreciation of art; drawing; form and structure; writing; sequence of plot; formulaic storytelling; mythology; science; ethics; morality; societal roles; and more. And during the last 10 years or so, this art form has been adapted with mixed results to a new medium, that of motion pictures.<br />
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It has been a rocky road, this love affair between Hollywood and comic books. And the results have not always been fireworks and fanfare like the first Spider-Man movie. Many have been crash and burn flops boardering on the insipid, like the uber-shlocky Elektra. Jennifer Garner owes me $8.50.<br />
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I was not happy with the Hulk attempts, and felt bad for Ed Norton (the second Mr. Banner, like a smarter, angrier Dick York), who wrote the second movie's script and then had it hacked to pieces once out of his grasp. The Fantastic Four movies showed promise with Micheal Chicklis, or whatever his name is. But Jessica Alba was about as convincing a Sue Storm as Martin Lawrence is a an elderly black woman. The only thing of redeeming quality was the flip and flirty Chris Evans as the Human Torch. He did a good job in that. And then Iron Man came along, and revitalized my faith that such collaborations could be created if MovieLand just stuck to the core material to begin with and did not try to "refresh" aspects of the mythologies which they deemed replaceable. Note: Dr. Doom is not a morphing metal madman. Bruce Banner's dad is not the Absorbing Man. Nick Fury is not Samuel L. Jackson (and I know somebody's not gonna agree with me on that. But the Ultimate Universe is not the Marvel Universe, and the two should never cross. So shut the hell up.). <br />
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Iron Man was such a hit that it fueled the creation of more super-hero movies. And to my giddy excitement, movies that piece together like a great, four-color puzzle. See, The Hulk and Iron Man were founding members of one of my favorite comics, The Avengers. This is a team of heavy-hitters comprised of these two big guns, Thor, some incidental characters I'll mention in a minute, and my all-time favorite comic book character: Captain America. SO, now we have the new Thor movie set to show in May, and then the new Captain America, all in anticipation of the Avengers movie next year. The new Cap movie is actually titled "Captain America: The First Avenger" to whet the appetites of the faithful.<br />
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And for those who actually thought Seth Rogan was a convincing Green Hornet (you putzes), he's actually slated to play Hank Pym as Ant Man, one of those "incidental characters" I mentioned previously. If there is a God in Heaven, this movie will never be made. Seth. Listen, buddy. Produce, write, make little stoney flicks with crude humor and semi-ad-libbed scripts. But stop with the super hero thing. Some of us care.<br />
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So I'm ready. Ready to be amazed and ready to be disgusted. The movies will either meet my extreme expectations or fall ridiculously flat. And its my own fault. I know too much about movie making and I know too much about comic books and the core subject material is closer to me than most people are to their football teams. <br />
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But I've seen the trailers. Even football fans saw them as they watched the Super Bowl. And I've attached the links at the top for you to see them. And thus far....I'm amazed. The Cap trailer has the Red Skull looking fairly cool as he pulls off a rubber-faced disguise (a trade-mark of his in the early books), and tanks with Hydra insignias (a big Cap enemy group), and even Cap leading the Howling Commandos in WWII, which should have been Nick Fury's job, but they had to reboot that to cover for Samuel L. Jackson! [I'm waving my clenched fist in the air here, but you can't see it.] But who plays Cap? Chris Evans, the aforementioned Human Torch from the FF movies! Really? Really, Hollywood? There was no body else who fit the suit? Huh. I'll be damned. Well, let's hope he's the right man to fill Steve Rogers shoes and does an amazing job. Personally, I think he'd make a better Hawkeye, but I've already lost you I'm sure with too many comic referrences, so let's suffice to say I'm trepidacious, but optimistic. <br />
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And the Thor trailer is up there, too. And it looks pretty damn good, too, except that I have no idea who this bohunk is playing Thor, and Natalie Portman is in it, ensuring her appearances at Sci-Fi Conventions 20 years from now if this Black Swan thing doesn't pan out, and the fact that it's in 3D. Christ, enough with the 3D already! We get it! Stuff looks kinda realish, but not quite. Got it. But Sir Anthony Hopkins is in it, which is cool, as Odin, Thor's father. I'm interested in seeing how he does. And they show the Destoyer, too, which flitted my little 10-year-old heart when I saw that classic Thor villian. And in the trailer, Thor is being questioned by that same robotic SHIELD Agent from the Iron Man movies, so I know there's going to be some good sequences of Thor vs. the Supreme Headquarters International Espionage Law-Enforcement Division. <i>oh, god...i am a geek, aren't i?</i><br />
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So take a look at the trailers and let me know what you think. I'll be here, getting the popcorn and the hari-kari sword ready.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-86965302304037997772011-01-19T12:56:00.000-05:002012-04-29T18:55:53.566-04:00The Return of the Fatted Pig<div>
I have returned.</div>
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I know a lot of you thought I'd died. Not true. Hell, I thought I was dead, too. Turns out I was just in Reseda. </div>
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But I'm back now, and ready to talk, type, and state things as I see fit, the Scott Said So way. I have refueled the furnace of my ego and have a surplus of hot air waiting to spew across your computer monitors. After all I've been through these past six months, I am ready to perry, thrust, and eviserate a variety of American icons, topics, and sacred cows. Yup. It's been a rough year. I would fill you in, but my esteemed legal counsel, Mr. Jacob Stein, has advised me against espousing details. I can only tell you that the many outlandish rumors of my alleged "incarceration" abroad were blown wildly out of proportion, and there is not one shred of evidence linking me to any of the sordid events involving any of those interns. Speculations and hearsay I tell you! Matter of fact, I refuse to speak further on the subject. I will simply add that I have nothing further to add.</div>
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And now...to the business at hand.</div>
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Well here it is a brand new year, ripe with possibilities and prospects. The rotting, bloated carcass of 2010 shrinking in our rear-view mirrors as we motor head-long into what will surely be a grab-bag of WTFs and You'veGottaBeKiddings. And I think I'm awake and sober enough now to be able to report and comment on anything that comes our way, people. I have a slew of topics I'm itching to tear into, and can't wait to get back up on that spot-lit soap-box where a blow-hard such as myself likes to think he belongs.</div>
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So, if you've an open mind and an ax to grind, or if you love spoon-fed opinions that are spicy and bite-sized, then all I can say is get comfortable, strap yourselves in, and open wide! Scott Said So is back, and I plan on being heard.</div>
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Want me to go off on something in particular? Tired of me already? One of the many hoping I'd remain dead? Email me. I'll be here, sharpening my rapier-like wit and shoveling coal into my ego.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-2651335142495959462010-05-02T18:22:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:01:12.917-04:00Morons, Captured On Film!Saw this posted on the Internet and fell deeply in love. Very rarely does something come around on film that truly captures an aspect of my rants so brilliantly. You've heard me go on and on about the "Morons" out there who "aren't as Cool as You" when you're driving. Well, this video montage helps bring a lot of what I'm talking about into clear focus.<br />
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I must apologize, however, as the original title of this was some kind of a slam against "women drivers." And that is NOT my intention at all when passing this video along. Stupidity knows no sex, resides not completely within any one gender, or race, or skin color. There are stupid people of every ethnicity, on every continent, and in every family. A Moron Driver is a Moron Driver. Period. They jeopardize our safety individually, and weaken us as a nation collectively.<br />
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Now, having said that, I hope you will think of this amusing video as a tutorial of sorts, on what not to do when behind the wheel. Like it? Let me know. Think it's garbage and I'm a monger of bad taste for showing it? Fine. Just let me know. I'll be here, texting in the safety of my driveway.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwKDj2Q--I_JyFY0KDg1J3G7HAcFSe68F3qbU1UJNzuUht6ciMZtrIslZvzJ83G7XE745RwYX9Y3B76FbQ2uw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-21528094791349443892009-11-03T20:26:00.000-05:002012-04-29T19:06:28.974-04:00The Power of Ten BucksWhatever happened to the power of ten bucks? Remember when ten bucks in your pocket meant something? You'd reach into the right front pocket of your Levis and you'd feel the bills all wrinkled and folded, and you'd remember, "Oh, yeah. I still got that ten bucks." And you'd just smile, just a little.<br />
A little feeling of empowerment. A spring in your step. And somehow that meant you had possibilities that moments before were not on your horizon. You could maybe go see a movie, or buy a couple of beers, or take a cab downtown, or pick up a pizza, or whatever. <br />
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That's a good feeling, the Power of Ten Bucks. I'd like my kids to have that. To them, ten bucks is nothing. <em>Nothing!</em> Ten bucks can't get them in anywhere, can't provide them with that same sense of power and potential that it did for us. They need that. Hell, I need that. That daily dose of power. A lot of people could really use that now, I think. That Power of Ten Bucks. Too many of us, too often, go too many days in a row without that special little feeling of empowerment, and I think maybe we end up feeling just a degree less potent, less important, less jazzed about the day's possibilities. <br />
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Ain't that sad? <br />
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I say, let's get it back. Let's make ten bucks mean something again. "Wake up, Grampa," you say. "Those days are long gone, Scotty-boy. You're living in the past."<br />
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And to that I gently reply, "Stuff that noise." <br />
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I still say ten bucks is a good little chunk of change. And I feel quite strongly that ten bucks should be enough money to buy three people some fast food. And something other than a freekin' fillet o'fish, too. I'm talking about a good size burger, some fries, and a nice size soda. Ten bucks should get two people into a movie, (and the movie should be WORTH ten bucks...can I get a "Hell, yes!"), and the dude should still have some money left over to buy his date some popcorn.<br />
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Am I talking crazy here? I think not. Have we forgotten who's in charge around here? Is that how impotent the world has made the majority of us feel? Like we're just faceless automotons, cogs in a wheel too great for us to understand or impose our own identity upon? <br />
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Well, let us not forget how important we are as individuals in this country. We are cogs, yes, I'll agree. But cogs make the machine run, baby. Without us, it's all smoke and noise. We decide the price of <em>EVERYTHING</em> on sale in America. Ev-Er-EE-Thing. The price of a cup of coffee is <strong>NOT</strong> set by the supply but by the <strong><em>DEMAND</em></strong>. You get enough people in this country to say "<strong>No"</strong> to Starbucks' $3.00 cup of coffee; you watch that price drop like an anvil out of a Warner Brothers sky. You really believe a new car in this country should cost $30,000? That a 2,000 square foot house should cost $350,000 and you should pay for it for 30 years and still owe $200,000 on it? That you should pay cable television services for 100 channels you don't watch (I don't need six Korean language stations, do I?)? That a Hershey Bar should cost ten times what it did thirty years ago, and be smaller in size? That gasoline needs to be $3.00 a gallon? "Scott, there's nothing we can do. You're being stupid." <br />
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Really. Well, a wiser man than I once said, "Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large numbers!" <strong>CASE IN POINT:</strong> If every American citizen uses just one gallon of gas each day (according to recent studies, this is the case.), and this includes babies who don't drive, I know, but it also includes truckers and bus drivers and construction personnel who drive for a living, so hear me out. So take that as a standard, one gallon of gasoline per person in the U.S. each day. Ok. So. What if we all, every person, just did not drive for one whole day. One 24 hour period. That's it. Just do not use the car for anything. (Ok, we'd make exceptions for emergency vehicles. Yeesh.) That means that 350 million gallons of gas would not get used on that day. And, if each gallon cost an average of, let's be conservative here, $3.00 a gallon, then that would be more than <strong>ONE BILLION DOLLARS in ONE DAY</strong> that the oil companies would lose out on, and that the American public would gain. <br />
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Ok, ok. I understand. Not everybody can do that. Police. Hospitals. Whatever. I know. But if only <em>ONE PERCENT</em> of the public did it, that would still be <strong>$10 Million Dollars</strong> lost to the oil companies in one day. And what if we repeated that just once a month for a whole year? We could set both the precedent and the price. And we would remember that we do have control, that we are important, that we do not live in a world that we have little or no say in, and that we cannot or do not control.<br />
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And we could make ten bucks in your pocket mean something again.<br />
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I await your two cents. I'll be here, sitting in my counting house eating bread with honey.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-2450748801408239592009-10-11T23:01:00.001-04:002012-04-29T19:30:08.120-04:00Random RantSometimes I'm wondering if anybody is actually paying attention to the facts. Seems alotta times we get wrapped up in our emotions about a topic, and don't take the time to take a breath and pay attention to the facts and figures from a safe distance.<br />
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<i>Ferinstince</i>: I'm on Facebook (because I am a mindless automoton who craves any kind of tiny spotlight, that's why), and one of those useless "polls" comes up: Should <em><strong><span style="color: orange;">"one nation, under God"</span></strong></em> be taken out of the Pledge of Allegiance, it was asking. And without hesitation I voted Yes.<br />
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My reasoning is just this: It's not part of the original verse. It was added in the 1940s, I believe, by President Roosevelt (and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on the date or the man), but the fact remains it <em><strong>was</strong></em> added. So taking it out is not commiting some kind of sacrilege, it's not revisionist-history-making, and it is certainly - by far - Not Un-American.<br />
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America SHOULD change things from time to time, in order to keep up with the times and the temperment of its people. It needs to take a fresh look at things, compare and contrast the facts to the principles we've built them upon, and review, rethink, and re-edit when needed. Hell, the Vatican did! And I'm thankful I can eat a Slim-Jim on Friday now. We do it with our currency, and not just to stay one step ahead of the counterfieters, either. How many Buffalo Head nickels you see anymore?<br />
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Point is that the term "under God" is a great thought; a heart-warming hug of safety and nostalgia that makes a lot of Americans feel all warm and snuggly. It is not "bad." It is, however, not needed. It does not make the Pledge any more or less American, Communistic, Socialistic, or Federalistic. (...is that last one even a word? Look that up and get back to me.) It simply does not accurately reflect the ideals or commitments implied by the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. We've got to keep in mind that this country is not made up of just You's and Me's. It's a whole lotta Them's. And that's cool. Together, we're all still Us. We just gotta remember to look at things bigger.<br />
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We, as Americans, have got to look at things in the big picture, and the big picture here is <em><span style="color: orange;">"Sometimes you don't get your way, just 'cuz you think you're right."</span></em> Sometimes, even though you are a lovely person, an honest taxpayer and one helluva golfer, the thing you want most dearly in life may not be the best thing for the entire country. And that's ok. That's the way it works. Sometimes, you don't get your way. And you have to learn to live with that and move on.<br />
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Still upset by the decisions being made? Good. Means you're still paying attention. Now you're next move is writing letters, studying the concepts, researching the topics both pro and con so you can make the best possible judgments, and working the system. It is NOT just whining on Facebook or Twitter or MySpace -- if you're 12, that is -- and screaming out in your status update about your tiny little thoughts. Shut up and DO something if you don't like it. That's what America is all about: Doing something. Good, bad, indifferent. But doing something. Something that will, if you're lucky, smart, and determined enough, actually incite a change. A change for the better, maybe. A change that will turn people's heads and get them thinking. A change, perhaps, in something that many folks consider a solid, unchangeable staple of the American landscape.<br />
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Like the words in the Pledge of Allegiance.<br />
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So it seems to me that whatever side of this point you're on, you have a chance to do something about it. For it or a'gin it, you get to make a stand and hopefully be counted. Ah, I love America!<br />
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And I know there'll be backlash. A huge, tsunami wave of crap-laden backlash, sweeping my way from people I've known and not seen for thirty years. My Michigan friends, my Los Angeles colleagues, my Asian Hookers. They'll all come out of the woodwork now and tell me how wrong I am.<br />
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At least, I hope they do. That way I'll know somebody is still paying attention. Until the villagers storm my walls weilding torches and pitchforks, leave me your thoughts on the subject. I'll be here, boiling the oil in the parapits.<br />
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By the way, this was a one-draft rant, so save your barbs about my spelling and grammar. I didn't even go back to check. Thanks.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-71285694621629143762009-09-10T17:32:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:17:59.587-04:00Obama's Speech ControversyOk, I'm pissed, so sit down and strap in. Here it comes.<br />
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I cannot believe the idiocy I am hearing from all kinds of citizens and political pundits with regard to the President of the United States addressing this nation's school children just this past week.<br />
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This country is stronger than any one speech given by any one man. These are WORDS, people. <strong>Words</strong>. And this is the United States, a country founded on some pretty cool ideals, one of them being Freedom of Speech. And with that comes the responsibility of those listening to... shut up and listen! A wiser man than I once said, "I may not agree with what you say, but I'll defend with my life your right to say it." But that seems way too tough for a bunch of parents who themselves were raised on "Just Do It", "Just Say No!" and "Have it Your Way." If they are against it, then they're not going to let anyone, anywhere, make up their own minds, it seems.<br />
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Have we so forgotten our own strengths that we have become a nation of complete knee-jerk reactionaries? Scared of words? And is that how we've raised our children, that they could be swayed by one speech? That this one episode will so curve their spines, disease their minds, and destroy their sense of free will that they're going to ...what...goose step down the halls of their schools now? I raised my kids with a little bit more integrity than that. They are open minded and thoughtful, and willing to take in new ideas while at the same time remembering who they are and where they come from! Are parents in this country so cowardly and so poor at their parental responsibilities that they believe this one speech will turn their precious air-heads into socialistic zombies? Really?<br />
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You don't like Obama? Fine. I grew up with Nixon. My Dad taught me one thing when I made fun of ol' Tricky Dick back in '73: If you can't respect the man, respect the position. Seems to me, too many are too quick to pull the plug on Obama already, and he's not even celebrated his first anniversary yet.<br />
<br />
And what about the other side of this coin? The BS I keep hearing about how our school children are being '<em>forced'</em> to watch this propaganda. They don't <em><strong>have</strong></em> to watch it, they <strong><em>get</em></strong> to watch it! There's a huge difference! Seems to me, parents and political figures who don't agree with our President's views and formats don't want anybody else to, either. Which is nothing new, I realize. But to raise such a stink about children getting to hear the views of the leader of the free world is not only sickening, it is embarrassing. Used to be a time in this country when listening to the president speak in school was a treat. Like watching <em><span style="color: #009900;">"Gone With the Wind"</span></em> or <span style="color: #6633ff;"><em>"A Charlie Brown Christmas."</em></span> Once each year, maybe, tops, you got to see that. And here our kids have a chance to hear him speak, and parents are so used to dipping everything their kids come in contact with knee-deep in Purell, they're afraid it won't be sanitized enough for their tender toddlers.<br />
<br />
And another thing. I don't care what he has to say, or if he changed his mind about it seven times before he said it, or that it's socialist dogma or political pandering or the last act of Henry V! The President would like to address our kids! How cool is that? Sure I wish it were Michael Douglas from <em><span style="color: #33cc00;">"The American President"</span></em> but, hey! This ain't a movie! And you had a chance to be casting director for this flick by casting a vote back in November. If I were king, only people that voted would get to speak about political happenings in the paper or on CNN, anyway.<br />
<br />
Speaking of which, listen to this, from CNN:<br />
<span style="color: red;"><em>"Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty, a possible contender for the GOP's 2012 presidential nomination, said Friday the classroom is no place to show a video address from Obama. </em></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><em>'At a minimum it's disruptive. Number two, it's uninvited. And number three, if people would like to hear his message they can, on a voluntary basis, go to YouTube or some other source and get it. I don't think he needs to force it upon the nation's school children,' he told reporters at the Minnesota State fair."</em></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><em><br /></em></span><br />
Yeah. Right. Politics has no place in our nation's schools. Let 'em learn about it on the streets and on the internet. Good thinking, you idiot.<br />
<br />
And how about this one, also from CNN:<br />
<span style="color: red;"><em>"Florida GOP Chairman Jim Greer released a statement this week accusing Obama of using taxpayer money to "indoctrinate" children. 'As the father of four children, I am absolutely appalled that taxpayer dollars are being used to spread President Obama's socialist ideology,' Greer said. 'The idea that school children across our nation will be forced to watch the president justify his plans ... is not only infuriating, but goes against beliefs of the majority of Americans, while bypassing American parents through an invasive abuse of power."</em></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><em><br /></em></span><br />
Wow! Get some pitchforks and torches! Free Barabus! An invasive use of power? Obama's not coming into your living room smoking Lucky Strikes and slapping your wife on the ass, buddy. He's TALKING. Talking to your children. And if you're that scared about what they might hear or understand or misinterpret, well, then maybe you should have spent equally as much time talking to them in the first place.<br />
<br />
I'm Scott Miller. I'm a teacher. And I am pissed off and saddened by today's Americans who think this country is some kind of metal you can beat the impurities out of. If anything, it is an amalgam, made stronger from the melding of all forms of metal, hardened in the furnaces of adversity, and forged into a shining example for the rest of the world to look at and respect. But hey. That's just me. Tell me what you think. I'll be here, polishing my shield and ironing my flag.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-34663954814451211822009-07-22T18:51:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:30:51.757-04:00All A' TwitterI love technology.<br />
<br />
I can hear a collective gasp from many of the people who have known me during the last 30 years. <em><span style="color: #3366ff;">Miller</span><span style="color: #3366ff;">?</span> Love Technology? I thought he had some plate in his head that made computers malfunction. I thought cell phones were the Devil to this man. Why, he's never even had a car that lasted him longer than a warranty.</em><br />
<br />
And it's true. Most people who know me are aware of my love for the traditional and comfortable, (i.e., my Levi's 501s, my vast collection of homemade TDK tape compilations, and my legendary pair of tennis shoes from 1981 with the silver duct-tape), but they also know of my pride in the great scientific leaps we as Americans have made.<br />
<br />
Advancements in our level of technology always signal advancements in our level of society, to me. In other words, as our intellect as a country or species advances, we as a people get to take another step up the utopian stairwell towards some kind of a Wellsian society where nobody wrinkles, we're all well fed and healthy, and all the chicks are hot like in <em><strong><span style="color: #3366ff;">Logan's Run</span></strong></em>. Man, that's a good movie. But anyway, in my humble opinion, the more advanced we get, the easier things should be, and the smarter we, collectively, should at least look.<br />
<br />
I envision an alien life form peering in at us from parts unknown, gathering data on this struggling but heroic life form known as Mankind. They see us making strides in our communications technologies, righting the wrongs of intolerance via dialogue and understanding, making the most out of $99 weekend and anytime minutes, and they decide not to nuke us afterall. Nice. Saved by our level of technology.<br />
<br />
But then again, I don't tweet.<br />
<br />
Twitter is the newest, hottest electronic fad out there, and its rise in popularity and usage by an ever-growing number of people has me stunned down to my size 10 Converse all-stars.<br />
<br />
In February, CQ Politics reported that Rep. Peter Hoekstra, R-Mich., broke a national security embargo when he tweeted the details of a secret congressional trip to Iraq: "Just landed in Baghdad."<br />
<br />
Nice. Way to blow your cover, idiot. This guy is the equivalent of the nerd of the wolf pack who walks up on the stalking group of stealthy hunters and shouts out, "Hey guys! Is that a deer?" Or, as actual journalists might put it:<br />
<br />
"Not only did Hoekstra reveal the existence of the lawmakers’ trip, but included details about their itinerary in updates posted every few hours on his Twitter page. Did we mention that Hoesktra is a ranking member of the House Intelligence Committee? Hoekstra's breach also happened to occur just months after the U.S. Army issued a <a href="http://us.rd.yahoo.com/dailynews/ynews/pl_ynews/storytext/ynews_pl832/32797233/SIG=12e7b29dh/*http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?show_article=1&id=081025182242.js2g2op8" target="_blank">report</a> warning that Twitter was a "potential terrorist tool." — Lili Ladaga, <em>CQ Politics</em><br />
<br />
Ok. I'm gonna get all pissed and geeky here, but it's time to Quote Comic Books (where, truth be known, throughout my formative years I learned all sorts of scientific theory, cultural mythology, and expansive vocabulary. Big advocate of Comic Books, folks):<br />
<br />
Have we learned nothing from Spider-Man? Do I have to say it again? <span style="color: orange;">"With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility."</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: black;">And I can't believe I'd actually have to explain what that means to anyone, either. I refuse to. Use the thesaurus app on your iPhone, idiot, and get back to me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: orange;">Basically, I feel that if we don't start using our heads as much as we use our technology, we are in for some serious trouble.</span> It'll only be a matter of time before we screw ourselves up majorly with the kind of irresponsible "lookitme" activity many of us find ourselves immersed right now. We seem to be so desperate to be looked at, we don't care what the lighting makes us look like. And what ever happened to spelling, punctuation, sentence structure, and syntax? No room for them on a tw0-inch keyboard?<br />
<br />
All I'm saying is: Settle down. Nobody's really interested in an up-to-date play-by-play on your life. It doesn't make it more glamorous, more exciting, or more colorful. Especially if you're not doing anything. Write a letter. Let your friends know. Get a blog. But shut the hell up. And if you really are doing something exciting or important, well, then, WAIT FOR IT TO BE FINISHED before you blab all about it. Who knows? Maybe more interesting stuff will happen, and then you can string them all together into cohesive paragraphs that have a beginning, middle and end, just like a real story.<br />
<br />
Now I know there is a time and a place for all our marvelous acheivements, Twitter included. Up to the second communication is critical in some fields, and this technological marvel can help in those areas, I understand that. But here's the street for the rest of you morons: <span style="color: orange;">Twitter is for overzealous self-important twelve year olds with no parental controls and an over-inflated sense of self.</span> There. I said it. Live with it.<br />
<br />
That's my take on it. Let me know what you think. I'll be here, filling out my Facebook profile and coming up with new t-shirt phrases.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-51261286036104581772009-05-18T23:56:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:34:52.919-04:00Watch the Nation Grow FATTER!Man, what is it with me lately and food? What am I, obsessed?<br />
<br />
More like amazed. See, I have a job that keeps me informed as to the statistics about nutrition, diets, and good health practices. As such, I'm sort of what I figure those embedded journalists in the war must be: at the frontlines of the battle our nation is having with its own dietary concerns. I keep reading and researching all about how the nation eats and excersizes, how our kids are the tubbiest little toddlers on earth right now, and how our adult population keeps getting thicker and sicker.<br />
<br />
It's no joke. <strong><span style="color: orange;">We now have the fattest children <em>IN THE WORLD</em></span></strong>, and we are, incredibly, getting fatter. Obesity is now being considered an "epidemic", (even though I'd love to throw that word on the pyre with my other "Most Overused Words" list), but it actually fits in this instance. And <span style="color: orange;">Obesity is affecting 30% of all the kids in the nation</span>.<br />
<br />
That means that one out of every three kids at your kid's school is fat. Too fat. Over the frickin' limit fat. And it could even be your kid. Again, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just saying. Yeah, some people have physiological or psychological reasons for over-eating and are battling crippling disorders. That's true. And some people are just fat. And that's true, too.<br />
<br />
<em>When I was a boy</em>...<br />
(Yes. I know. I said it. And I promised my girls -- who are not fat, by the way, so that's two out of the three accounted for right there-- that I'd limit using my youth as a reference for all things holy to four times a month. But in this instance it's justified, supported, and only makes the third time this month!)...<br />
<br />
<em>When I was a boy</em>, my mom cooked meals at home. Sorry, ladies. She did. Which meant we ate foods that were a little fresher a little more often at our table than research says is happening nowadays, and Mom controlled the size of our portions and how much of each item we wolfed down. And in my neighborhood, my friends and I ran around like crazy people before and after dinner, playing Army (heaven forbid! The violence! And no <span style="color: orange;">orange</span> tips on the guns! How'd we survive?) and climbing trees and skinning knees and peeling out on our bikes and burning off calories. And now, for a variety of reasons, kids just don't. The majority of our children lead fairly sendentary lifestyles, rarely engaging in participatory activities (which aid in creating social bonding skills), our portion sizes are out-of-control huge, and no one regulates the intake of calories for our kids with any kind of regularity or genuine interest.<br />
<br />
And as a result, our children are fat. Here are some stats for you. According to the AMA, <span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><strong>Drug Use</strong></span> kills roughly 20,000 Americans each year</span>, and you hear all the time about the "War on Drugs"and the Drug Epidemic; how awful drugs are. <span style="color: orange;"><strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">Alcohol</span></strong> kills nearly 100,000 Americans each year</span>, as well. Cigarettes? Ugh, killers! Awful, nasty, dangerous, right? Ad campaigns and commercials constantly tell us about the threats of smoking, and the evil ways of the Tobacco Industry. And, truthfully, <span style="color: orange;"><strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">tobacco</span></strong> kills about 300,000 Americans each and every year</span>. And most people will get up in arms about smoking, not to mention second-hand smoke, pollution from cigarette butts, the chemicals and poisons in the products, workplace health issues, sections in restaurants, and on and on and on!<br />
<br />
But --<br />
<br />
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><strong>Poor Dietary Habits and Physical Inactivity account for more than 450,000 deaths every single year!</strong></span> </span><em><strong>That's MORE than all Tobacco, Drugs, and Alcohol deaths COMBINED!</strong></em><br />
<br />
And there's no "War On Chili Cheese Fries" that I know of! No "Fatty or Un-Fatty Sections" in restaurants. No "Second Hand McDonald's French Fry Fumes" outcry. NOTHING. But it's killing MORE of our kids than all this other crap put together. Unhealthy diet and inactivity are the leading causes of death in America, and result in debilitating physiologies and diseases that affect growing numbers of adults and put a continued strain on our medical system.<br />
<br />
<em><span style="color: orange;">More than 100 MILLION Amercians are affected by dietary and inactivity-related health problems including High Blood Pressure, Diabetes, Heart Disease, Osteoporosis, and many others. And this does not include the additional 129 MILLION Americans who are currently clinically overweight or obese.</span></em><br />
<br />
And you want to see the statistics in clear and undeniable terms? Click on this link to watch our Nation Grow FATTER Right Before Your Eyes.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/nccdphp/dnpa/obesity/trend/maps/index.htm" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Obesity and Overweight: Trends: U.S. Obesity Trends DNPAO CDC</a><br />
<br />
After you watch that little slide show, check out my other Blog: <strong><em>Chew On This!</em></strong> at <a href="http://www.factsonfood.blogspot.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.factsonfood.blogspot.com/</a>. I'll still be right here, munching on my third bag of Hot Cheetos. But I'm washing it down with a <em>Diet</em> Coke, so....<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-13980144907119838912009-04-19T10:36:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:41:12.296-04:00Four Things You Never Knew Your Cell Phone Could DoRan across these technological tid-bits, and thought I'd share them with the Nation. They're <em><strong><span style="color: orange;">Four Things you probably didn't know about Cellular Phones</span></strong></em>, and I thought they were pretty interesting, even though I'm not the biggest cell phone enthusiast in the world.<br />
<br />
As many of you know, I'm not the easiest guy to get a hold of. And, actually, I like it that way, for the most part. I travel a lot, I'm driving, or I'm grabbing some much deserved sleep or quiet Me Time, and the phone rings. I hated that disturbance thirty years ago, and I hate it now with phones that go everywhere I do. The Wife made me get one, after quite honestly some fairly excellent whining on my part against the whole idea. However, "There may be an emergency" was the winning argument. And I am, obviously, the only person who can save us from whatever emergency looms ahead, so I must be able to be reached. So rest easy, America. When Commissioner Gordon calls, I will be on it. That is, if I'm within the coverage area.<br />
<br />
See, it's not that I'm antisocial. It's just...well...I don't <em>want</em> you to get ahold of me no matter where I am. I'm a firm believer that, when my phone rings, I don't <em>have</em> to answer it. Fairly sure that's why God created answering machines. And I don't feel that makes me a bad person, an inconsiderate person, or a selfish person. There are dozens of <em><strong>other</strong></em> reasons as to why I'm bad, inconsiderate, and selfish, and my phone etiquette is way at the bottom of <em><strong>that</strong></em> list. <br />
<br />
And I don't need to text anyone. Jesus, that crap is destroying a whole semester of 11th Grade Personal Typing skill. No one has respect for the Home Keys anymore. And I don't need music. I don't need games. I don't need the Internet. I don't need to Twitter while in line at the movies, or race Mario Carts while I'm waiting for an elevator. I don't need a phone to placate nor pacify me. I don't need it to entertain me. I don't need it to broadcast my every random thought to my friends and coworkers and any stranger who Googles me. (That's what a blog is for.) When I'm bored, and that's a rarity, I make my own fun. My phone is not some magic wizard that suddenly grants me access to noise and bright colors to occupy my time. It is not some crystal ball allowing me to see things I might otherwise miss and tragically die without. No, I need a phone to make a call where I want and when I need it to. And they can't seem to get <em><strong>that</strong></em> little bit of technology nailed down yet. Calls fade out, drop off, or are so static-ridden you might as well be talking to a Cuisinart. Swear to you, rotary phones made in 1973 had better and more reliable sound quality than these pocket playthings they make now! Unreliable in almost every situation. What I need is a tin can on a string that goes directly to 911, that's what I need.<br />
<br />
But I digress. How unlike me. The Tid-Bits. Yes. Here they are. Give them a try and see how they work for you.<br />
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1. <em><span style="color: orange;">Emergency!</span></em> - The emergency number is always 911, as most people know. But, if you're out of your coverage area or your mobile network, <span style="color: orange; font-size: 130%;"><strong>dial 112</strong></span>. That's the <em><span style="color: orange;">Worldwide Emergency Number</span></em>, and it should work everywhere.<br />
<br />
2. <span style="color: orange;"><em>Hidden Power!</em> </span>- Out of juice and need to call the boss? Press the keys <span style="color: orange; font-size: 130%;"><strong>*3370#</strong></span> and your cell phone will restart with a reserve of up to <em><span style="color: orange;">50% of your battery life</span></em>.<br />
<br />
3. <em><span style="color: orange;">Free Directory Service</span></em> - There are several out there, including Google's 1-800-GOOG-411, but try <span style="color: orange;">800-FREE-411</span> without incurring any charge at all.<br />
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4. <em><span style="color: orange;">Open Sesame!</span></em> - This one I thought was a hoot! <span style="color: orange;">Locked your keys in your car?</span> Got a spare set at home? Before you call AAA (you've got AAA, right?), try this. Call someone at home on their cell phone (or on a land line and tell them to call you back using their cell). Hold your cell phone up to the car door and have the person at home press the "unlock" button on your spare set of keys. Presto! Your car door should unlock.<br />
<br />
I got these from a very reliable source, so they should work. If not, call me. Oh, if I don't pick up, try leaving a message. Or shoot me a comment back. I'll be here. Playing Mario Cart.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-21419992680809084192009-04-08T18:32:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:50:20.047-04:00Free Comic BooksOne of the nicest things going nowadays, is getting free stuff that you love. That's why it'd be a grave disservice if I didn't pump this with a trumpet: <strong><span style="color: orange;"><a href="http://www.freecomicbookday.com/Home/1/1/27/992" target="_blank">Free Comic Book Day</a></span></strong>.<br />
<br />
The first Saturday in May, that makes it <strong><span style="color: orange;">Saturday, May 2nd</span></strong> this year, is Free Comic Book Day. Nationally, at comic shops across America, you can literally go in and get free comic books. They'll have several dozen comics from major and minor companies that you and your kids can just pick up and take home, for keeps!, without paying a red cent.<br />
<br />
It's a great way to share some time with your kids, rekindle some fun from your youth, encourage reading, and see what's out there in the realm of funny books nowadays. Be careful! Some of these will be a bit on the "adult" side, but there will be plenty from the Simpsons, Archie, and Casper companies, too.<br />
<br />
Click on the title above to get more info, or find a comic retail shop near you!<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-11544477920243757922009-03-16T12:38:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:53:00.706-04:00You're STILL fat!You Are <em><strong>STILL</strong></em> fat.<br />
<br />
Yup. You.<br />
<br />
With the chocolate monster muffin from Starbucks and the skinny Latte. Not you? Oh, sorry. Maybe you're the one that decided to "eat healthy" and ordered the Cobb salad swimming in ranch dressing with the yogurt parfait yesterday for lunch...and downed it with a 32 ounce "<em>Diet"</em> Coke. No? My apologies. But I know tonight, somewhere out there, while they're watching "<em>Real Housewives of Someplace You'll Never Visit,"</em> somebody'll scarf down about a pound or so of Low Fat Frozen Yogurt and fall asleep with a Snickers bar in their mouth.<br />
<br />
Last month I told you why you were fat, but it looks like you need a reminder. So click the link below and check out the <strong><span style="color: orange; font-size: 130%;"><em>Worst Foods in America</em></span></strong>. Consider this a public service annoucement from someone who cares. And from someone who's tired of seeing flabby mid-sections trying to squeeze into designer jeans and wondering why it's so hard to meet anybody nice at the El Torito on Friday night. Remember. It's because I care.<br />
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Now drop the chalupa.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.menshealth.com/eatthis/20-Worst-Foods/index.php?cm_mmc=Yahoo_Blog-_-ETNT-_-The_20_Worst_Foods_in_America_2009-_-The_20_Worst_Foods_in_America">Men's Health - Eat This, Not That! - Best & Worst - What's are the worst foods?</a><div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-10509555264814509912009-03-13T02:06:00.000-04:002012-04-29T19:59:08.520-04:00Verbosity Vs. VoiceSo my wife thinks I'm verbose.<br />
<br />
Which, I am. I really don't deny it, and I couldn't begin to argue against it. Let's face it: those of you who know me are well aware of the fact that I love the sound of my own voice, and that I truly enjoy formulating thoughts and words and meanings in ways that are new and interesting -- well, interesting to me anyway. My ongoing love affair with language and my tireless self-posturing combine to become the soap box upon which I stand to sing, shout, rant and rave. It is what I do.<br />
<br />
But it was the fact that my wife's notion that "verbose" is a bad thing that affected, if not offended, me.<br />
<br />
To me, my aptitude to wax on about a topic is not a detriment to understanding the subject matter; it is, rather, the melody upon which the lyric is heard. It is my Voice. With a capital V. And a Voice is all that an author has, when it comes right down to it. Without a clear and distinct way in which to tell the story, the audience is not engaged nor entertained.<br />
<br />
When I first decided to turn my love for writing into a career, I immediately became dismayed and frustrated by the fact that they're weren't any good ideas left to crack open and explore. It seemed to me that just about everything that needed to be said had already been said, and done so in a much better way than I could ever muster. All the real stories; original ideas of Man vs. God, etc., had been stated and scripted and stylized by masters of verse and prose far more gifted than I. They had crafted ideas into classic plays and poems and motion pictures long before I had ever picked up a number 2 and tried to think of the great American novel. I mean, why remake Casablanca? As Ayn Rand said, there are two kinds of people in the world: Creators and Parasites. Creators come up with new and original ideas, and Parasites spin those creations off into different directions, fashioning only dirivitives of the original, shades of the original color.<br />
This bothered me for years. It stiffled my creativity; affecting my motivation for writing anything of quality and worth; irritated my friends and made me a moody sombitch to be around. I was pissed because what I wanted to do was blocked by the fact that it had already been done. I figured, if I couldn't be the best, why even try?<br />
<br />
It took a long time, but I finally snapped out of it. It got to the point where even <i>I </i>couldn't stand my whiny, pussy, sad-sacked angst. I mean, Get over yourself, Miller. So you'll never be Shakespeare. So What? Write because you love to write. Write for you, and to hell with critics or criticism or your own self-imposed crap. I looked around at what was being pumped out and fed to the masses as "journalism" or "literature" or even "news" and realized that Shakespeare was dead. Scott R. Miller, however, still had some time on his hands. And nobody'd heard from him, yet.<br />
<br />
Voice is everything. That's what makes a book worth reading. It's what makes a movie worth watching. The actors interpretation of the character (Sean Connery vs. George Lazenby). The director's vision of the final product. And my Voice is this: On my blog, I comment of the obscure and the ordinary, the mundane and the monumental, the pedestrian and the celebrated while stradling a high ivory pedestal with a pompous, of-course-I'm-right, tongue-frimly-in-cheek stance. I rant and I rave and I repeat myself ad nauseum in order to scrutinize and pontificate upon those things that I truly feel are hurting the nation and that others, perhaps, could not care less about. While in my writings and scripts, I take two classics and meld them together. If I can't come up with a classic idea on my own, I'll spin what's there in a new direction. For example: my script "The Money Tree" is basically "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" mixed with "Swingers". Two buddies travel to Vegas in 1968 to avoid the Mob. Much in the same way that the movie "Outland" was "Star Trek" meets "High Noon." (Look it up. I'll wait.) And this Voice not only keeps me writing, it makes me want to write.<br />
<br />
During the last 15 years, -- of which, mind you, I've been married for 10, -- I've written nearly 100 magazine articles, scripted four major motion-picture screen-plays, penned a short film that showed at the 2004 Cannes Film Festival, ghostwritten two books, created my own How To book, and created this blog. And in that time, my wife has yet to read one single thing I've ever put down on paper.<br />
<br />
But then again, I realize that she doesn't ever really have to. She gets it for free full-time directly from the horse's .... mouth. Think I'll go buy her some flowers.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-44009070467002271572009-02-20T14:58:00.000-05:002009-02-20T15:44:03.435-05:001995 Ford Explorer - The 50 Worst Cars of All Time - TIMERemember when you could be proud to be an American? Not that you can't be proud now, but I just remember when it used to mean something. Used to be when you swelled out your chest in pride, you had some reasons to do so. We wereNumber One. Standard of Living. Gross National Product. Food Production and Processing. Education. Automobile Production.<br />Today? America is number one, alright. Number one in fat kids who couldn't find Germany on a map unless you smeared chocolate on it. The only thing we've successfully created in the last 25 years is a generation dependent on prescription drugs. We should just hand out diabetes and heart disease at every bris and baptism.<br />And what happened to our grip on the world's transportation jones? We were the main supplier of that chrome-covered drug for decades. Remember the Motor City? Remember when we were at the forefront, on the cutting edge, leading the pack, and thinking outside the box? It was back when we created cars with personality and vision that were the envy of the rest of the world. As far as we were concerned, the rest of the world created ox-carts and rig-shaws. We Made Cars. Today we make cars that all look like the same sliver of shower soap.<br />Let's get busy and start kicking some transportation ass again!!! That's all I'm saying. We need to completely rethink this whole four-wheeled technology and build something that's gonna make everybody's eyes roll back in their collective heads, do a skull and go, "Oh, yeah, God. That's IT! Why didn't <strong>WE</strong> think of <em>THAT</em>? Yes, of course! Man, I gotta have one of those." And while we're at it: Where the Hell are the Flying Cars!?! This is 2009. Two THOUSAND Nine. That's the <em>future</em>. We are in the future, and I want my flying cars and my three-course meal pill and my robot butler. Ok. Maybe not the butler. But I expect at least reasonably affordable mass-produced Hover Craft by the year 2010.<br />One thing I want us to do because we can and we should is to <strong><em>Learn From Our</em></strong> <strong><em>Mistakes.</em></strong> Detroit and Flint are not Dead Cities. They're not overgrown and forgotten like those old Mayan Temples or Ahngor Wat or whatever. They are viable production centers with tons of space and people hungry to work. Let's build some stuff there again and prove to the world that we can wipe the chocolate from our lips long enough to get our chests swelling out farther than our bellies again.<br />We should have learned from the design flaws of the Edsel. We should have learned from the gross pollution and shoddy workmanship of the Model T (look it up before you try and reprimand me). We should have learned from the supposed Energy Crisis of the 1970s. But we didn't. And we kept on creating cars that no one wanted to drive. No one. Not even those guys with the ox-carts. Look, I'm simply saying: No more Aztecs. No more 8,000 pound land yachts that get nine gallons to the mile. No more over priced toys that can't carry your groceries home without a re-charge.<br />Click on the Title Above to see what Time magazine -- yes, TIME MAGAZINE, people -- have deemed the worst cars of the last 17 years. See what you think. Agree, disagree, complain, sing halleluhia...complain about my spelling...Whatever. Just get back to me with your comments. I'll be here.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-75088559619387945102009-02-11T10:40:00.000-05:002009-02-11T10:49:46.122-05:00This is why you're fat.The Obesity Epidemic. 1/3 of all our kids are over-weight in this country. Experts are up in arms, but that's too much excertion for the average Joe, so the general public doesn't seem to give a crap. Or maybe they can't because their bowels are impacted. Whatever. We're fat. Yes. But what bugs me is the question of how we got this way, and why we're obese. "How could we let this happen?"<br />Really?<br />You really don't know?<br />Well let me clue you in. I've heard the whining and the issues, but let's face it: We're Fat because we can be! And that's it! This is America, land of the free and home of the Whopper. We grow 95% of the world's corn, for instance, and of the amount we keep, 90% goes to Livestock! We've got so much, our cows get more than most other countries! 80% of the world doesn't live like we do, and a lot of them are lucky to get a hot bowl of gravel for breakfast. Me? I skipped breakfast because I ate so GD much last night I wasn't hungry, then past by five fast food places as I drove my lazy butt the two miles to work. <br />In this land of Good-n-Plenty, we get to eat more and excersize less than any other country around and we do! We eat gigantic portions of high-calorie crap because we can, it's there, and no body of any import tells us not to anymore. We're off the leash, and there's literally a garbage dump on every corner with a new 99 cent Menu.<br />To help graphically illustrate this epidemic of unrestraint, I humbly submit this link to help those of you in a Cheeto-induced stupor visualize the Best of the Worst Foods in America.<br />Click on this title to see some pretty outrageous...and, I must admit, tempting...foods.<br /><a href="http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/">This is why you're fat.</a><div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-13475585869572732682009-01-07T13:52:00.000-05:002009-02-11T17:35:10.736-05:00Top Ten Movie Moves<div>Top Ten Movie Moves</div>
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<br /><div>American movie makers have come to rely upon certain cliches, metaphors, and even stereotypes to move the story along. These range from the obvious (Want your actress to look dumb? Have her chewing bubble gum. Genius!) to the subtle (the tie-in between Norman Bate's love of ornothology and the screeching sticatto of the music used as he murdered Janet Leigh).</div>
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<br /><div>However, there are some parts of the plot line that American Audiences have come to rely upon in order to spoon feed key elements to them. I see these over and over again in movie after movie, and have realized that my life, in comparison, seems incomplete. I have decided that there are several key elements to film, especially action films, that I desperately need to incorporate into my own life in order to make it as action-packed, adreneline-pumping, and testosterone-rich as the two-dimensional lives I see flickering before me. Oh sure, I can battle the bad guys in a raging war of wits, but that don't get the babes in truckloads like it used to. Nope. Cool, so I am shown again and again in plot line after plot line, is not what you have going on upstairs, but how you use your fists. Now <em>that</em> gets it going on upstairs, boys and girls, if you know what I mean. Greasy biceps, well placed smears and smudges, and skin that takes a lickin' but never (and I mean <em>never</em>) forms a bruise. Oh, a small cut here and there, sure. Cuts are cool. But bruises? Ugh, what a pussy. Yeah. And the moves that I see them perform in order to save the day and win the war and keep the children safe for democracy. Oh, the moves! Gravity defying, split-second reactions like jungle cats in slow motion! Yeah. That's cool. We need more of this in America. Everyday. On the streets. In the cubicles. While watering the yard. You name it. These are the Action Moves each of us can benefit from.</div>
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<br /><div>So here are my choices for the Top Ten Movie Moves needed in real life.</div>
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<br /><div>1. Jumping from a Moving Train</div>
<br /><div>2. Dropping from Above onto the Bad Guy's Back</div>
<br /><div>3. Tossing the Cigarette onto the Gasoline</div>
<br /><div>4. Switching Seats in a Speeding Car</div>
<br /><div>5. Switching Directions in a Speeding Car</div>
<br /><div>6. The Windmill Rifle Cock</div>
<br /><div>7. Final Move Without Looking</div>
<br /><div>8. Awesome Holiday Lighting Display</div>
<br /><div>9. Swimming Underwater thru Hail of Bullets</div>
<br /><div>10. Staggering thru Desert with Chapped Lips</div>
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<br /><div>While I know that most, if not all, of these options are probably never really going to become part of my life...I mean, come on. I'm a writer. How can I jump from a train with my laptop? That's nuts....I further understand that I can be happy with what I deem the "Little Action Movie Moves." These include the Tooth-Pick Shuffle (moving the pick slowly to the opposite corner of my mouth without using my hands as I stare steely-gazed at the woman I'm scoping out at the bar, just moments before she indignantly sends the bouncer my way), and answering the phone with only my last name. "Miller" or "Go for Miller". Yeah. That's cool.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-62378159180830092962009-01-05T15:00:00.000-05:002009-01-05T15:14:11.058-05:00Top Ten Hollywood Movie Stars of All TimeI was watching television the other night, and there was some awards show on. (I couldn't even tell you which one it was, they all look so similar. I'm fairly certain that if you just spliced together segments from five different awards shows into one long program, no one watching would be able to tell.) So I watched, remote teetering precariously in my hand, mouth slightly open, eyes glazed with indifference, for about three minutes as some sparkling sequins in the shape of a woman bantered on inanely about concepts fed to her from an unseen tele-prompter. She really seemed to have no clue as to the ideals the prompter aspoused, as was evident to me as she faltered over several multi-syllabic words. Who is this chick, I wondered. Should I know her? Is she important? Is she on TV or in movies, or what? I mean, am I so far removed from the entertainment loop now that there's a whole new crop of talent that I'm completely unaware of?<br />And as she stumbled on, faigning composure after her third mispronounciation, I found her so mindless; so inconsequential; that it got me thinking. (Ok, it got me mad and then it got me thinking. That's how it works.) But here's what I realized: <strong><em>There are no Stars left in Hollywood</em></strong>.<br /><br />There.<br />I said it.<br />Somebody had to. We used to have Stars, but not any more. Paul Newman's death was a harbinger; a tolling of an iron bell sounding the end of a Hollywood as we once knew it. We used to have Celebrities. They were the Royalty of the American Cultural landscape. We cared about what they did, where they went, what they ate, and who they were. (When Clark Gable disrobed in "It Happened One Night" and he wasn't wearing a tee-shirt, national tee-shirt sales for men dropped by 30%.) But now we have nothing; bupkiss; dick.<br /><br /><br />As a society, we have replaced the once brilliant luminessence of our celebrity Milky Way with the dim, christmas-bulbed flicker of pop idols and two-dimensional pan flashes. The tintilation of behind the scenes gossip has been replaced by smutty who's-the-daddy scandal that passes for "entertainment news." At 7:00 pm nightly, this parade of cultural clap-trap is spewed out by self-indulgent automotons like Ryan Seacrest who hurl jagged headlines at us in rapid succession, so quickly and with such ablomp that we become covered in it; layers of it; hardening around us like a thick insullation of shit. We become jaded to the boldness and audacity of teenagers and young adults with little to no accernable talent who now pass as the closest thing we have to stars.<br /><br /><br />And they are not. They are not Stars. Stars have class. Stars have dignity. Stars have a sense of personal privacy and societal mores. Stars are afraid of shame, but have the guts to stand up on their own when the going is tough. I don't see a lot of that anymore.<br /><br /><br />Stars appear in movies and legitimate television programs; not cable-based abominations and scripted "reality shows." Stars gain respect for their accomplishments and reputations for their blunders; they don't become famous simply by appearing in front of cameras and labelling themselves celebrities. (Here's a hint: If you've ever called yourself a Diva...You're Not. Look up the definition of the word before you apply it. Aretha Franklin is a Diva. Paris Hilton is not.) Stars contribute to the cultural touchstones of our American fabric; they are not the loose strings on the fraid edges of fringe belief systems adding no more to the lexicon than fart referrences. Stars have legacy, not infamey. Stars are filmed, not digitally recorded on cell phones.<br /><br /><br />It is a tremendous honor and responsibility to be a Star, and to shoulder that golden burden every day, every where. And if you can't do that, then don't apply for the job. And don't apply if you don't have a resume, either. Respect used to have to be earned. We ain't giving it away just because you decided you'd get out of bed today.<br /><br /><br />So here, for once and for all, and for use as a back-board for all of the wannabes, woulda-beens, posers, and poor excuses, is the definitive collection of Hollywood Stars.<br />This is the <strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Top Ten American Movie Stars of All Time</span></em></strong>.<br /><br /><br />First off, let me eliminate the Icons. Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, John Wayne. Sorry, but I'm talking about Movie Stars here; not American Icons of Film History. Dean was a great actor, true, but he never had the opportunity to explore the depth or range of his potential to make his way into my list. He died before he'd done half a dozen films! Sorry! Movie Stars have Legs. They are not Shooting Stars. They are fixtures in the constellation called Hollywood. And I took into account not only acting chops, but also diversity in subject matter. Bruce Willis makes damn interesting choices in the roles he plays, as did James Cagney. John Wayne and Clint Eastwood, on the other hand, as much as I personally love them, generally play themselves in their movies.<br /><br />So let's sum it up. Stars have legs, chops, humility, strength, and a commitment to their craft that is endless and boundless, if not sometimes quiet and restrained. They are not one trick ponies, flashes in the celebrity pan, or self-important jerk offs. And with that said, here, in no particular order, are the <strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Top Ten American Movie Stars of All Time</span></em></strong>.<br /><br />Bette Davis<br />Robert DeNiro<br />Douglas Fairbanks<br />Meryl Streep<br />Paul Newman<br />James Stewart<br />Tom Cruise<br />Jack Lemmon<br />Anthony Quinn<br />Katherine Hepburn<br /><br />I'm sure that should get a few of you fired up.<br />Please. Tell me what you think. I look forward to hearing your thoughts....<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-60805680606989515332008-11-26T17:13:00.000-05:002008-11-26T17:36:34.806-05:00Change is GoodOk. I'm changing things up.<br /><br />It has always been my contention that people with a Blog had way too much of several commodities of which I consider myself short on: Time. Hot Air. Self Importance.<br /><br />But things change.<br /><br />I've decided to branch out from just the automotive information and delve into other aspects of American life that I have thoughts of, on, or for. Why? Let's call it Doctor's orders. I need to vent, or I'll explode. There's just too many issues I've remained mum on over the years, and I feel that certain areas are just getting a little "overgrown," shall we say. Like weeds in a neglected area of the societal lawn we all share.<br /><br />I've decided to create a series of Top Ten Lists. My take on the best and the worst of things, from Cars to Cartoons; Food to Fashion; Movies, Books, TV Shows, and more. These'll be my personal takes on the greatest things America has to offer, both past and present. And upon what criteria am I basing my judgements? The name of this Blog is Scott Said So! for a reason.<br /><br />So let me know what you think of my choices. I'm always willing to hear another side to the story, no matter how sad and off-base it may be. Ha!<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-19568772014638552812008-04-06T21:20:00.000-04:002008-04-06T21:53:19.234-04:00Traffic TipsHello! I've heard from a few members of The Nation who have said that, while the monthly tips on the Website are great, this blog doesn't have nearly enough "Tickets You Can Avoid" information, and I feel that they are right.<br /><br />One of my pet peeves is <span style="color:#ff0000;">turn signals</span>, so I thought I'd give you the run-down on how never to get a ticket for this ever again. Remember, as I always say, the number one job any driver has out there is simply to get home safely. Along with that, keep in mind that NO ONE else out there driving is nearly as <a href="http://www.officialscottsaidso.com/swag">Cool As You</a>. I'm not concerned about how you drive, it's all those other <a href="http://www.officialscottsaidso.com/swag">Morons </a>you've got to watch out for. Not all of them have <a href="http://www.officialscottsaidso.com/products">read my book</a>. --- <em><strong>Yet</strong></em>.<br /><br />You, I'm sure, already know that in California, for example, as it is in most states, you must use your turn signal for 100 feet prior to any change in direction in order to be deemed legal. But what a lot of people don't realize is that that includes lane-to-lane changes on a highway, turning in a parking lot, and even leaving a highway by taking an off-ramp. I kid you not. You MUST (again, according to Johnny Law's vehicle code book) use your turn signal for 100 feet in each of these instances. Ok. But what's 100 feet?<br /><br />My good rule of thumb? Four clicks of your turn signal before you begin the move. Two reasons: Four clicks is gonna cover one hundred feet no matter what speed you're moving. 20 miles an hour? Sure. 80 miles an hour? Definitely. And four clicks also allows everybody around you to see what you're intending to do. You're not sneaking up on anybody.<br /><br />And spread the word: the turn signal comes BEFORE the move. Not some lame "courtesy click" once the manuever's been made. It's an INDICTOR. It's supposed to tell me what you're GOING to do. Not a PUNCTUATOR, telling me what you just did.<br /><br />Oh, and tell your young friends, the newer drivers especially: The Turn Signal is not a Cloaking Device, or a Force Field. Just because you use it, doesn't mean you are immune from damage. You can't just do what ever you want to do, change lanes and side-swipe an SUV, and then whine, "But I had my blinker on!" It would still be your fault.<br /><br />So there you go. Another safety tip from your ol' pal Scott. Hope this one saves you money and aggrevation. I'll post some more soon. Thanks for reading, and drop me a line anytime.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-79054956114409371482008-02-24T00:48:00.000-05:002008-03-19T23:55:08.245-04:00An Observation on the SUV<div align="center"><em><strong>Here's another stand-up bit from a gig I did last summer at the HaHa Cafe in North Hollywood. If I can clean up the sound, I'll add it to the CD. As it is, it's a good little observatin on the state of the size of SUVs. Let me know what you think at</strong></em> <a href="mailto:scottsaidso@yahoo.com">scottsaidso@yahoo.com</a>.</div><p><br />Have you noticed the correlation I have? That the bigger the SUV the smaller the driver? Yeah. I keep seeing these tiny little ladies with their tiny little dogs and these huge purses, huge sunglasses, and huge, crippling SUVs. These heavy metal behemoths rolling down the roadways like some chrome-laiden glacier coming straight at you. "WAAAA!!! Get the Pharoah! Get the Pharoah!" And the names they give these things. Huge, massive, swinging dick names, you know. "The Yukon." Right. "Northwest Territories" too dorky for the ad reps at GMC? Jesus, I'm waiting for "The Ford Continent" to come out. "Comes with it's own Gravitational Pull." Only a matter of time.<br />But these chicks driving them. No, I'm sorry. But it's always a chick. Please. Please. They're all built on the principal of penis envy, and you goddamn know it. Yes, yes, yes. This is California, baby. Both men and women drive the dick they <strong><em>wish</em></strong> they had. And I swear, the chicks inside these SUVs, I swear to God. The other day I saw a chick driving like this...(Mime huge steering wheel way above head, huge hand over hand turning). Way too big. Way too big. Talk about an accident waiting to happen. And I'll look up at them and say, "Hey! Why you driving such a big honkin' vehicle?" And they'll look down at me and scream, "Cuz it's safer!"<br />FOR WHO?<br />I'm just saying. I mean, I look at it this way. Maybe it's not the car for you. That's all. Just, just maybe...it's not the right vehicle for you. I mean, consider this. If you need a rope ladder lowered from the driver's seat just so you can climb up into your vehicle? Maybe it's not the car for you. If you need a periscope to see over the dashboard, Maybe it's not the car for you. If you have ever lost your dog inside your vehicle, Maybe it's not the car for you. Honest to god, if you cannot reach across the passenger seat while driving to pay at the f---ed up Taco Bell drive thru that's on the wrong goddamn side, then it is not the car for you! Think of it this way: An SUV is like Spandex. It's a priveledge, not a right. That's right. It's not for everyone.<br />And If I were King...yes, King...and that really is a stunning visual, isn't it? With the Crown and the flowing robes? Stunning. Yes, it's Ermine. Yes. If I were King, I would make it a law, -- <strong>Nay</strong>! An <strong>Edict</strong>! ... 'Cuz I'm King, bitch... That it would be illegal to own a vehicle that was taller than you were.<br />Nice, eh? Like the Denali. Have you seen that f---ng Land Yacht? The Denali? Top of the line Yukon. By GMC. The Denali weighs ... get this... it weighs 6,800 pounds. And that's empty! You can but 8 people inside that thing, ...in hammocks. The HOOD alone is four and a half feet off the ground (mime leaning on elbow). Now, where's the head of a three year old? Oh, that'd be down here. (lean over and show knee length from floor). The Denali has a blind spot of 20 feet directly behind it. 20 feet. That means, that if a Denali were behind me, backing up towards you, it'd take out this whole first couple of rows right here, cuz it can't see you. And the last thing you'd hear before it ran you down was<em>..."Beep! Beep! Beep!"</em> That's not the sound they should have. I mean, if 6,000 pounds of glass and metal is rolling blindly towards me, I want a f---ng <strong>"Aaa-OOOO-Gaa!!!"</strong> or something. Right? I mean<em>..."Beep!"</em> That's not scary. That means my burrito is done, you know? I mean, come on. It's nuts. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-78632035504174065882008-02-16T10:39:00.000-05:002008-02-19T22:57:16.438-05:00Quick and EasyHere are several quick and easy ways to eliminate some very common, and annoying, traffic violations. While based on the California Vehicle Code, these tips are valid for most states, and are all good driving practices. In other words, they couldn't hurt.<br /><br /><strong><em>STOP IT!</em></strong><br />When coming up to an intersection, understand what it means to <strong>stop</strong>. The literal translation of the law simply says to "cease all movement" of your vehicle. This could mean that if you are on a hill, even rolling backwards could be a violatioin of the literal meaning of the law. What a police officer is looking for is two-fold, so keep these in mind:<br />1. <strong>The motion and movement of your vehicle has completely stopped.</strong> This is mainly done by the officer watching the tread of your tire. Not your rims or hubcaps. Not your brake lights. Not the whiplash motion of your neck and head. Your tires. Think about it: if your tire has stopped, then the whole car has stopped.<br />2. <strong>Position of your tires upon the pavement</strong>. At most intersections, there is either a limit line or a crosswalk. The limit line is a thicker, white line extending from the right curbface to the middle of the street. Here, your tires may rest upon or before the limit line, but may not extend past the limit line towards the actual intersection. With a crosswalk, your tires must be before the line, not on it or into the actual crosswalk. That's an extra ticket for "blocking or crossing a sidewalk or crosswalk being used by foot traffic."<br /><br />I hope those save you some hassle and some cash. To learn more, subscribe to my website, OfficialScottSaidSo.com, and get my book, "How to Avoid Traffic Tickets Forever!" Thanks!<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2566837287227315689.post-87650930871723913822008-02-12T20:47:00.000-05:002008-03-19T23:52:20.250-04:00Stand Up on Traffic School<div align="center"><em>Here's a transcript of a comedy bit on traffic I used to do here in the Los Angeles area. </em></div><div align="center"><em>So, kick back, relax, and pretend you're enjoying a nine dollar Corona. </em></div><div align="center"><em>It'll be like you're at the Improv. </em></div><div align="center"><em>A very cheap, poorly lit, very quiet Improv. </em></div><div align="center"><em>Like when Pauly Shore's there.</em> </div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><em><strong>Traffic School</strong></em></span></div><br />Any of you guys ever been to traffic school? Anybody? Yeah? You have? What...How many times? Six? Really? Jesus, dude. What are you, on the frequent flyer miles or something? That's nuts, man. I think after three times, they should just give you a horse and that's it. You're finished. "Nope. Uh-uh. On your way, Mr. Ed." Jeez. Six times. You're a f---n' menace. You the designated driver? Hey. You the designated driver tonight? No. 'Course not! Here. F---n' drive this whole first row home, Jasper. Yeah. There ya go.<br /><br />Six times... Me? Oh, hell yes. This is California. Traffic School's a right of passage. Yeah. What? 400 times. No lie. Really. I <em>taught</em> Comedy Traffic School in this city every Saturday and every Sunday for Eight Years. Eight. Goddamn. Years. Of my life. That I can never get back. Yeah. Well, I'm a sadist, so it was good for me, but.... No. Really. I did. And I was good, man. See, you're at a comedy club. You expect these guys to be funny. But Traffic school? Dude. Nobody wanted to be there. You talk about a hostile audience? People would just stare at me. .... Felt like I was at Easter Island. "Yeah, yeah, funny man. Just get us out of here."<br /><br />But most times people were crackin' up. And I got so good, I put out a tip jar. Nice Balls, Scotty-boy. No, seriously. I was worth it. Did you see this? (Point to face and strike a pose) Guapo, baby. Look, it was eight hours, man. I don't even do things I enjoy for eight hours straight. The least I could do is try and have a good time. So I made it like a little night club deal. Eight Hours of stand-up twice a week. Like a little Jerry Lewis Telethon. We'd just fucking commiserate. "Oh, god, yeah. Me, too." People coming in, I'd greet 'em, "Ok. So, will that be Speeding or Non-Speeding? Right this way." No, but I'd tell 'em there's really no way you're gonna avoid the tickets, so what I'd do is I'd tell them how to lessen the probability of getting them. Which most people got behind, and got on board, and took the Scott Miller Train all the way to graduationville. And we had a blast. I told them, at the end of 8 hours, they wouldn't want to leave. 8 hours was not enough time. All the s--t they'd learn! When they left my class, they'd see colors they never knew existed! They'd drive their loved ones crazy with three little words: "Scott Said So." For two weeks, they'd be pointing s--t out, like, "See that? He can't do that, it's $150 fine. Scott Said So!"<br /><br />You want to avoid traffic school for the rest of your life? One main thing. Remember just one main idea: Nobody's as cool as you. And ain't that the truth, man. Nobody out there knows what you know about traffic, do they? They grow up with you? Go through the same life events that made you such an upstanding American figure? Hell, No. They're Morons. And that's the word I'd use, too: Morons. I don't mean to offend anyone who might be related to or married to a Moron, I'm simply stating....Yeah. There's always one or two, you know. But, no, really, think about it. Does any other driver out there know what you know about driving, or cars, or maintenance, or f---n' physics? No. No way. Now, yeah, I mean, Sure. We all learned the same basic information, but...you know as well as I that there are some people in here right now that remember a time in this country when there was no such thing as an automatic transmission. And now, cars park themselves. Parking. That's another one. It's one of the basic tenents of vehicle operation around the globe, now thrown asunder because this (mime backing into a parking spot) is too hard. You know what? If you can't parallel park? Enjoy the f---ng bus! Cuz, what else can't you do? So that's a big one, remembering nobody's as cool as you. You want more, check out my website: <span style="color:#ff0000;">OfficialScottSaidSo.com</span>.<div class="blogger-post-footer">The Scott Said So! blog is part of the Scott Said So! Empire.
Catch the full fury at www.ScottSaidSo.com</div>Scott R. Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16328883697391384952noreply@blogger.com0