December 31, 2007
I love your dog and all but...
I was shocked today to hear a statistic on one of the morning news programs regarding total US pet expenditures. I checked a couple of online sources and they all seem to gel. In 2007, according to the American Pet Products Manufacturers Association, Americans outpoured $40.8 BILLION into pet expenditures. This is just a number until put into greater context and perspective. I thought that it might be interesting to throw our pet expenditures up against global GDP numbers. Out of a World Bank tally of 183 countries, US pet expenditures were higher than the GDP of 118 countries. Let me state this another way; only 65 countries in the world had a GDP higher that what the US outlays on just our pets.
According to Small Business Trends Magazine, much of this growth is from pet deli snacks, toys, luxury items, and convenience accessories such as programmable feeding and watering stations, warming mats, and self-cleaning litter boxes. It is also estimated that pet goods and medicines spending will reach $9.3 billion. This $9.3 billion is part of the greater $40.8 Billion in total expenditures.
I’m really tired of poverty. I can’t say I’m tired of it for the same reasons as people like Sean Penn, Brad Pitt and Angela Joli. I’m not sure what drives their obsessive need to help impoverished people of the world. I would speculate that they like most obsessively philanthropic people have goofy selfish guilt reasons. Look at many people who work for NGOs and you will find that they are from wealthy backgrounds. They have no practical exposure to or experience of poverty until their parents paid for them to take a trip abroad in college. They felt so guilty they decided to “make a difference.” They still however drive around the developing countries in Mercedes Benz cars and stay in compounds that are better than most people live in here in the US. In such, they can’t possibly speak convincingly to the people they are trying to help. People kiss their asses for short term gain. When the little rich kid from the Upper East Side of New York city leaves the village to return to their $5000/month apartment, everything returns to as it was before they got there in the first place.
I must admit to also having selfish reasons for wanting to end poverty. I hate scumbags. Poverty breeds ignorant scumbags and crime. Take a bite out of poverty and we take a bite out of the number of scumbags that we all must confront on a daily basis. Scumbags make going to the mall a miserable experience. Scumbags make the county fair unbearable. Scumbags make more people drive cars because they are afraid of the subway. Scumbags cut that lady off in the parking lot the other day and laughed at her. Scumbags called my wife the n-word from the safety of their car last year. Scumbags shot my neighbor in the face in 2004.
From a human standpoint, I could care less whether the ignorant scumbags live or die. I do however feel immense compassion for the good people who have to live next door to the scumbag. I hurt for the children who have to grow up avoiding the streets where dip-shit scumbags live. I hurt for the fact that my children will be forced to deal with moronic, ignorant assholes who have so little to lose that they will transplant their misery on others.
What does this tirade have to do with pet spending and GDP figures. I’ll mostly leave it up to the reader to draw what I see as an obvious conclusion and leave you with this: As you are heading out to pick up your new luxury doggie beddings and warming mat, think of the people around the world who lack heat and are lucky if they have much more than a mattress and the sleeping bag they have been using for 10 years to sleep on. This might clarify why the asshole at the mall with the immense chip on his shoulder is so pissed-off.
December 13, 2007
Who The Hell Falls Out Of Bed?
I fell out of bed a couple of weeks ago. It really sucked. I wasn’t in my bed which might have been part of the problem. We were staying at my parent’s house and I was having some dream that I was fighting 4 dudes on a beach. In the dream I committed to the fight and lunged at them. The next thing I knew I was on the floor in excruciating pain. It scared the crap out of Ingrid. The thump on the wall next to the bed and then the floor woke her up. I heard her yell out, “who the hell falls out of bed?!” It’s pretty funny now except for the fact that my rib is still hurting from the tumble. I’m pretty sure I cracked or bruised a rib as a result. Just yesterday was the first weight workout I have had since the fall. I still can’t bench press. It hurts way to much. From what I have read, there is absolutely nothing that can be done for cracked and bruised ribs. Time will heal and meanwhile don’t do anything that hurts. It’s really disrupted my whole workout routine. Without regular bench press, I fear the growth of disgusting “pig-man girl boobs” as the muscle on my chest turns to fat. Perhaps I should invest in a bra and some guardrails for my bed so this doesn’t happen again. ☺
December 08, 2007
Story of Stuff
Something to support my Christmas rant from a couple of posts ago. I'm no environmental activist by any means but we really do need to take a hard look at what has happened to our culture and the negative results of our consumptive craziness. Click on the image below to view "The Story of Stuff." It will take 20 minutes of your time but is worth it if for nothing else than to get you thinking. I am going to have my daughter watch it tonight. It's her generation that will truly mentally digest the reality and readjust the collective thinking in this country. I'm afraid that my generation is so set in its consumptive ways that it is too late. ):
December 06, 2007
X-mas Books for Kids
Why do things that make a mockery of the purity and innocence of my own childhood make me laugh so hard:
