THIS IS NOT A TIRE

It happens almost without fail. I’m not sure of the science behind the causes, but I’d like to think it has something to do with how the body processes raw fish. The thing that is most important to remember is – it’s only temporary. Eating too much sushi (and what is regarded as ‘too much’ is subjective) will result in an effect I affectionately refer to as Buddha Belly. Sure, over eating pasta, steak, or Chinese can cause an uncomfortable sensations throughout the digestive system, but there is something different, endearing, and I’d like to think… healthy about breaching ‘satisfied’ while consuming too much sushi. It’s the lower belly that seems to swell with a perfectly happy roundness, which is regularly accompanied with delightfully glazed eyes.

When preparing to ‘feed’ at a sushi bar, one should have a quick discussion with oneself to decide who is ordering… the eyes or the stomach. If on a first date, do us all a favor, let the stomach order. However, if on business or out with a good friend, stomach step aside and let the eyes do the ordering – provided you are looking to achieve sushi Nirvana. Pieces, rolls, and some extra ginger (please!) are all requirements for an adventure from which you might not return. Gin or other clear drinks are often handy and can enhance the degree of enjoyment for all at the table. Songs of loving Gin and wanting to marry said drink have been the cries of those (or just the author) heading in the direction of the greatest Buddha Belly ever experienced.

Often seen in conjunction with this charming pooch is the Sushi Dance. One can be deeply committed to conversation, eating, and still be dancing with out consciously knowing. This dance is more of a rocking back and forth in the chair or pillow upon which one is sitting. The chopsticks are swung in rhythm with the rocking, and in my case beeping sounds regularly accompany the ‘steps.’ This dance normally takes place when the food is brought to the table, and fourth piece into the pleasure that can cause an abdominal peninsula.

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Drearily I was just another car on my way to work. Lined up like cattle on the way to make beef tenderloin; same road, same stops, same lane, same everything except for the car directly in front of me. Unless the car has a bumper sticker I normally don’t even notice. Make and model are just not things that register in my life, especially first thing in the morning (they’re all just colored objects to be avoided at all cost). I oddly enjoy reading bumper stickers and stickers in general that people feel the need to post to the world. I seemingly like knowing with what sports strangers’ children are involved, what team one cheers, which party one is affiliated, a clever phrase to make others chuckle, and where have you proudly traveled. Above all I like religious bumper stickers the best. They are out there mission-ing while the driver is cutting others off. Sorry… I was projecting there. Let me try again. The bumper sticker is out there mission-ing while the driver is on his way to church? To bible study? To the bar?

And for a moment, I’d like to back up… I’d like to take a minute to talk about bumper stickers in general. They’re on the back of your car. You can’t see them. You buy the sticker, and then deface your own investment, which will always turn out to be a loss. Kind of like a butt or back tattoo, you pick out something really great…something you think you want on your body for the rest of your life, and put it somewhere YOU can’t see it. To each his own. Maybe I should invent a hologram sticker for windshields. The driver can see it and see through it at the same time. That way when one decides to display some personality with regard to one’s car, the purchaser can enjoy the message most; leaving the outside world the ability to commute to work in peace without Sarah’s ballerina dancer on the back of your Yukon.

On the morning in discussion I had the pleasure of being queued up behind a car which had a gem of a message. Are all familiar with the country code stickers? Somehow we have been able to create a standard naming scheme for all the countries of the world on an oval shaped sticker, painted in the dominate colors of its flag. For example, Canada is CA, with red text and white background; Germany is DE with yellow, red and black trim. This guy had chosen to display GIG in black text and white background. Don’t rack your brain as I did, it’s not a country code at all; although GIG is the airport code for Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I inched the car forward, for the fine print obviously. “God Is Great” ‘and there you go, there you have it.’ I know… we shorten all kinds of things now. Texting has completely improved our ability to communicate (brb…k im back). But let me ask, when praising your god of choice, is using initials the best way to display your faith? I also wonder what grace is like at his house. “Let us give thanks, GIG. Amen.” (Wow, powerful. I was moved, were you?).
Don’t computers already own GIG? You would have thought they copyrighted… but then again god’s law supersedes man’s law. Maybe when I buy my next computer I should ask how many ‘god is greats’ does this laptop have? I’m sure that will go over well, and I will surely earn the best of the best deals, not to mention respect! Surely the meaning can’t be interchangeable…tell me my laptop is not an object that is somehow kosher, or has to give up wireless for 40 days (because it love’s wireless), or must at some point in its life have to travel to a far off land, or become passive to viruses.

I look forward to my next bumper sticker and the next…

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