Ake's Pains debuted in the University of Akron Buchtelite in September of 1977. The school's reputation as an institute of higher learning has still not recovered. Ake's Pains returns after a brief 32 year hiatus. It's back, baby!

Monday, June 20, 2016

Bikini Madness (My Vacation Is Ruined – Part 2)

(I am vacationing in Florida, but the vacation is being ruined by Tropical Storm Colin)

I can imagine George Harrison being on vacation during a tropical storm, gazing into the dark clouds over the ocean. Suddenly he sees a glimmer in the distance and is inspired to write “Here comes the sun! And I say it’s all right!”

But the sun is still nowhere to be seen here, and it is not all right, it is not close to being all right.  If Harrison was writing about the current conditions, he would no doubt be so bummed that he would ingest mass quantities of drugs and write a horrible, unintelligible, song containing many swear words. This composition would not make the Billboard charts.

Now the worst of the storm has passed. There is still a gusty wind and a steady rain, but this does not deter people from emerging from their refuge to reclaim the beach. However, it is difficult to describe the immense damage and utter destruction caused by Tropical Storm Colin.  None, I repeat, none of the young women walking on the beach are wearing bikinis. This is a tragedy of enormous magnitude.  It is a severe bikini shortage. It is a bikini crisis.

It is June, it is the afternoon, it is Siesta Key, the second best beach in America.  I am here on vacation and there are no bikinis.  I am devastated by this tremendously woeful situation.  The women walking on the beach are wearing shorts and t-shirts.  But not tight t-shirts, and unfortunately the rain is not heavy enough to spur an impromptu competition.  Some of these women are even wearing long pants. Just let that sink in for a moment.  No bikinis, long pants.  And they are walking, not strutting. One does not strut on the beach in long pants and t-shirts because there is no point in doing that.  I’m sure some of these ladies are incredibly beautiful, but I can’t tell, because there are no bikinis, none. 

Somebody pointed out to me that I really should not complain about the weather in Florida since the flooding in Paris is so bad that they had to close the Louvre.  “How would you have liked to flown all the way to France and then had your vacation ruined?” they said.   This is of course kooky-talk. Because I choose to visit the sunny beaches of Florida, except there is no sun.  If they ever put Mona Lisa in a thong bikini, I might consider vacationing in France (I wrote that last sentence to be at the top of the search results when someone Googles “Mona Lisa thong bikini”).

But I am not out lazing on the beach. I am going stir crazy, locked inside this condo, being held prisoner by that bastard Colin.  Sometimes I just stare at the walls. I notice that the condo has a “parrot” theme. Normally I wouldn’t even notice, because I wouldn’t be inside, I would be outside, on the beach, the sunny beach.  But now I glare at the stupid parrot artwork on the wall, as it mocks me.

“Look at me pale, vacation-boy.  You don’t want to see me, but you have to. Caaaaawrk! No bikinis for you! But you can always check out my tail feathers, caaaaaaaaaaawrk!”

I could watch more TV, but it is a dinky 42” model, with no HD.  I repeat, no HD, it is standard definition.  I didn’t even know that still existed.  And the Internet is not high speed, so I can’t even surf as fast as I can at home even though I am at the ocean. But there is only so much “Judge Judy” I can watch. On the last episode, a woman boyfriend agreed to pay for breast implants, but only paid for one.  Now she is having problems staying upright.  I wonder what Judge Judy looks like in a bikini?

Author Stephen King has a $9-million mansion nearby on the beach.  During a break in the weather, I sashayed down there hoping since I am a fellow author, we might share some wine and brie and have a discussion about our craft.  I was thinking I could give Stephen some pointers about how to incorporate humor into his stories to make them less scary.

I found the front gate and told the person on the intercom that the author of Just Make Me A Sammich wanted to chat with his buddy “Steve”.  For some reason, the line then went dead. It must be defective. You would think for $9 million you could get a intercom that worked.

So I stood at the gate yelling “Sammich!, Sammich!”

Soon a lackey appeared and informed me that no one there had ordered any sandwiches.

“No, not sandwich”, I explained. “Sammich, sammich. Just Make Me A Sammich”.

He just stared me.

“Do I look like the Jimmy John’s delivery guy?” I asked with disdain.

Okay, so apparently I do.

They keep talking about the dangers of riptides during the storm, but I think I am in danger of being ripped off.  So I marched down to the rental office and demanded a refund for the two days of rain during my stay.  The guy refused and said no one can guarantee sunny beaches. C’mon, it’s Florida, I wasn’t born yesterday.  The beaches are supposed to be sunny all the time.  I’m being ripped off.  But when I protested again, he just started angrily screaming at me “Sunny Beaches! Sunny Beaches!” and chased me out the door.  I don’t understand, this is all that I want. Just give me a sunny beach, please! This has to be the worst vacation ever.

But now as I write this, something miraculous is happening.  The clouds have parted, it’s getting brighter. Yes, it is really happening and I am inspired!

(Cue the Beatles music)

Beachy beauties, it’s been a long wet rainy season

Beachy beauties, it seems like days since it’s been bright

Here come the buns, here come the buns

And I say, yeah all right!

Buns, buns, buns, here they come …..

Uh, this post is over, gotta run.

Please buy my new humor book - Just Make Me A Sammich http://donake.net/just-make-me-a-sammich-book

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Really Colin? You Stupid Son Of A Beach (Part 1)

I was eagerly anticipating my summer vacation. I desperately needed relief from the stress of being a best-selling author (well, in my neighborhood) and a well-respected, industry expert (yeah, really). This year’s destination was Sarasota’s, Siesta Key beach, recently named the second best beach in the entire country!

Except today, as I write this, it is not the second best beach in the country.  In fact, it is not a beach at all.  It is a cesspool of heavy rain water swirling with the white sands, caused by something awful called Tropical Storm Colin.

Yes, today, Siesta Key would be rated well behind the beach closest to my home.  That one is located on Lake Erie, something the locals call the North Coast. The beach on Lake Erie is horrendous.  It is cloudy, with a cool wind, and it is covered with craggy rocks which can pierce your buttocks if you are not careful where you sit. And the water is filled with a smorgasbord of unidentifiable industrial chemicals.  But today, I could be actually enjoying my vacation on this beach, without paying for costly plane tickets or renting an excessively expensive condo.

My current location would also today rank behind the Jersey Shore, known for its wide variety of washed-up debris, including used condoms. “Look dad, I found a jellyfish!”  When your beach is ranked below used condoms, you know you are at a lousy beach.

And this must be a freak tropical storm, because I am not in the tropics, I am in Florida, for St. Petersburg's sake. It’s part of the United States. Maybe this storm is due to global warming, but it should absolutely not be happening right here, while I am on vacation. I think this is just the type of stuff Donald Trump is promising to fix.

And why would you have a tropical storm at the ocean?  I mean the ocean already has enough water. It has plenty.  Why would it need any more? But it is getting more, lots more, torrents more. More rain than I have ever seen in my life. Children, what did you see on vacation? “I thaw a dolphin!”. “I thaw a pelican!”  And how about you Donnie? “I thaw a &!@#ing tropical storm!”

This is an historic storm, the earliest in the season for one starting with the letter “C”.  I guess I should feel some prestige in being a part of a momentous event, yeah, maybe similar to a passenger on the Titanic. 

They claim the storm started off as a tropical depression and this is absolutely true. Because when you are in the tropics and see those bizarre colors on the weather radar heading straight for your vacation resort, you do get extremely depressed. If I ever meet this Colin guy responsible for this deluge, I’m kicking him square in the nuts, twice. 

At first I was determined I wasn’t going to let a little rain stop the festivities, so I grabbed a lounge chair and headed for what used to be the beach.  In retrospect, this was a bad idea.  I felt like one of those pathetic news reporters they send out to report on bad weather. “Yep, it’s wet out here, with some gale force winds alright!”  I will probably completely dry out sometime next week after I’m back in Ohio.

I’m so glad I paid extra for this ocean-side unit.  It was supposed to give me an “up-
close view of the water” and boy did they ever deliver on that promise, as this photo demonstrates!  I love to vacation in Florida for all the fresh seafood and now at high tide, it is now swimming right outside my door. A bit too fresh, I’m afraid.  

And the main reason to visit this particular location is the awesome, breathtaking, Sarasota sunsets.  Of course I haven’t seen the sun in days.  I have no idea if it ever rose or set.  For all I know it ran away like a scared little girl when the storm hit.  

Here's a photo of last night’s sunset.  Isn’t it awesome? Yes, awesomely bad.

So I am stuck inside watching multiple episodes of Judge Judy (From the case of The Shitting Shih Tzu):

Defendant: “You said I could have Jerome stay in the apartment!”
Plaintiff: “I didn’t know Jerome was your dog!”
Defendant: “Oh yes you did!”
Plaintiff: “Oh no I did not, you (bleep)”

This vacation is so utterly ruined.  You might think I am being selfish and non-caring, since people have died in the path of this storm and millions of people in Africa cannot afford a vacation like this one.  Well, I paid lots of money for sunny beaches and I want sunny beaches!  Besides, some of those Africans get to live on the beach their entire lives, for free, so in my mind it evens out.

Now you may ask why I am not praying for the rain to stop, since I all but took credit for stopping the rain this way at my daughter’s wedding two years ago.  Well you have to save up your prayer markers and pick your spots carefully.  Since I am planning to get the Zika virus this summer, (I’ve previously been infected twice, once seriously, with mosquito-borne maladies) I need to be able to save my important prayers for this.

So no, I am not losing my religion, but this Colin storm is ruining my vacation, cue the REM music:

(Ruining My Vacation)

Oh storm, it’s bigger
It’s bigger and wet
And wet is so me
The lengths that I will fly to
The distance in air miles
Oh no, I bitched too much
I set this up

That’s me in the condo
That’s rain on the window
Ruining my vacation
Trying to have fun inside
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’m bored too much
I haven't bored enough

I thought that I heard it storming
I thought that the ocean roared
I think I thought I saw the sun

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

Ruining my vacaaaaaaaaaaaaaation …….

Please buy my new humor book - Just Make Me A Sammich http://donake.net/just-make-me-a-sammich-book