Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Parker doesn’t mind the chatter, just keep it clean



By L.A. PARKER

OK, this is it, a clash of the titanics, I mean titans, involving me, L.A. “The Truth” Parker and Jeff “Kid” Edelstein.

The guy in the other corner could not come up with a good enough handle, so, for now, it’s “Kid” but hopefully that will change by next week.

Furthermore, I agreed to this weekly showdown hoping that my esteemed opponent might exchange ideas about serious topics, stuff like Gov. Christie’s weight, President Obama’s immigration plan, should the government pay individuals to be fixed before they bring more kids into the world that they will not care for? And so on.

This week, in a first-round meeting, Edelstein and I get to discuss cell phone use in public places.



Yeah, I know, you wanted Rocky Balboa vs. Apollo Creed but you’re getting a lightweight showdown of Barney Fife vs. Steve Quincy Urkel.

I hated cell phone use in public until my company forced one into my hand about 18 months ago. I love it.

Individuals should be able to use their cell phones everywhere except for libraries, churches, and while driving an automobile.

Other than that, be my guest.

It’s OK with me if cell phone users want to let the listening public in on their private lives.

I recall this one time in line at a local supermarket where this guy was obviously enjoying phone sex while waiting to check out his groceries. Both men and women looked irritated for a minute but he had our attention.

Some women left the Express checkout and moved into a lane closer to the guy. Several men stepped away from Self-Checkout to stand behind the phone sexing man.

His conversation grew louder and hotter as ice cream containers melted. (There’s a future topic, Does hot sex contribute to climate change?)

Finally, a man screamed. “Hey buddy, can you at least put your call on speaker phone so we can hear what the lady’s saying?”

Seriously, though, as long as the conversations are short and PG-13 rated then I don’t care. Of course, I don’t want to hear about “What color is the puss oozing out of an open sore?” Or “Did you poop in the potty? Good boy. (Then find out the person’s talking to their pet Shih Tzu).

I do recall another time, overhearing this chubby guy — not Gov. Christie nor Santa — whispering that “Uncle Remus is gonna stop by and visit us, so I wanted to tell you about it.”

One thing about cell phones? You never know who’s listening.

I think this is where I do the Urkel Dance or Ali Shuffle.

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