George Washington was a Badass

I think we all know, deep in the ventricles and cavities of our cavernous hearts, that George Washington was a badass. The man invented America. Everything that has come out of America basically came from George Washington. Cowboys. Rattlesnakes. The Modern Musical. Machine Guns. Peanut Butter. Staplers. Gunpowder. Love.

The story they always tell about George Washington is that chopping down a cherry tree story. George Washington chopped down a cherry tree, and then admitted he did it because he "cannot tell a lie." Well, folks, it is of course ridiculous to say something like that. Obviously the man is physically capable of telling a lie. By saying that he "can't," he's telling a lie, thus throwing the entire story into a graveyard of grievous untruths. What are we to take from this discovery? That George Washington was a liar who is remembered as an honest man, perhaps the most honest man in history?

George Washington was the Chuck Norris of 18th century colonial America. He was kicking ass and taking names before it was even cool to do that. It's because of George Washington that we don't speak with a ridiculous accent. It's because of George Washington that the cheeseburger was invented. It's because of George Washington that Britney Spears is expecting her third child (that's actually a direct correlation. I don't want to go into specifics, but it involves cryopreservation, a turkey baster, and quite a bit of whiskey).

George Washington is my personal hero, and I'm not afraid to say it. The man pulled off a powdered wig and false teeth. He was friends with Benjamin Franklin. He bought Paul Revere his first horse. George Washington invented kickball and cured hams.

I'm not the only one who thinks that George Washington is awesome:

Laundry

I do laundry at my father's house. There is a laundry room at my apartment building, but I like to be able to sit on a couch and watch television while I wait for my jeans to be washed by mechanical hands. Plus I hang out with my dad and eat his food for free. And the laundry is free.

I like doing things for free. Something about leaving money in my pocket where it belongs. While I was mooching off of my father, I started thinking about money. Money is one of those things that wouldn't mean anything if it wasn't attached to anything. Money is nothing, but people accept it as payment because they know that other people will accept it as payment. Money is the vehicle for the circular movement of society. Is cash really better than the old bartering system? Money is based on mutual understanding and value association. It is a useless third party that we hold on to for convenience. Mastercards are lighter than oxen.

If our world underwent a massive bout of universal amnesia, and we forgot what money was, what would change? Would our values change? Would using physical, direct values like turkeys and seeds help us keep tabs on what we truly consider useful in our society? Would there be less war? Would the incredibly wealthy seem ludicrous with their piles and piles of pigs and flour? Would visible wealth cut down on the desire to acquire? The thing about portable wealth (credit cards are virtually weightless but can be remarkably valuable) is that it is in no way cumbersome to have a great deal of money. If money were cumbersome, there would be a more equal distribution.

But maybe I'm not onto something, because the truly wealthy would just pay someone else to house/cart their billions. Money's not going anywhere.

But at least my laundry is free.

As long as people will accept crap, it will be financially profitable to dispense it. -Dick Cavett

Noah's Bagels Autumn Blend

Last Sunday morning, early, I took a walk. I was carrying around a disposable coffee cup (full of coffee) like a yuppy chump, but I didn't care. What is it about those plastic lids that brings us right back to our sippy-cup infancy? It was a foggy morning, as mornings in this city tend to be, and an old man on a bike called out to me like an old friend:


"Starbucks already, huh?"

It was Noah's Bagels coffee, first of all, the Autumn Blend (which is excellent) which really isn't any better than Starbucks in terms of the whole "corporate America" deal, but I made the distinction, and would have liked if he did also. Granted, he was gliding past me at a rapid clip on his rickety moving vehicle, and my Noah's Bagel cup was covered by one of those post-consumer recycled hand-protection sleeves...so it was understandable that he made the mistake. But I wanted to tell him. I wanted to say it was a Noah's Bagels cup, and not Starbucks, because he had made an assumption and it couldn't have been more wrong.

But I didn't. Because it didn't matter, and he was happy and smiling on his bike and I was happy and smiling in my renewed infancy, and we both went on our way that morning knowing that we were right.