in keeping with the previous post ... i'm man 3.
walking the streets of a major city
man 1: you and i, man, we've got the curse of the fair skin.
man 3: yeah ... i can't get out in the sun.
man 1: what do you shave with?
man 3: mach 3.
man 1: nun-uh. you need the quattro.
awkward pause
man 1: see, the quattro, it has four blades. the mach 3 only has three.
12.15.2006
12.09.2006
this actually happened
scene: three of us. i'm man 3, quiet, in the back seat. man 2 is driving us to dinner.
man 1: so how's the guest house coming along?
man 2: rockin', man, rockin' ... it's coming along well ... we've got the frame built, and the steel is up already.
man 1: steel? for the frame?
man 2: no. steel roof.
man 1: ah.
man 1: did you get the driveway done?
man 2: driveway?
man 1: yeah ... when i was out there, you were working on the driveway. laying tile or concrete, i think?
man 2: no, we're not doing anything in the driveway.
man 1: are you sure? i remember the driveway being all torn up.
man 2: no, dude ... nothing in the driveway. oh oh oh -- you're thinking of the floor in the guest house.
(silence for a bit)
man 2: we're looking for a gay guy, very meticulous -- well, they all are, but very meticulous, very neat. someone who can walk the dogs -- you know the kind.
man 1: yeah.
man 2: and he'll need it, like, one week a month. so we can rent it out.
man 1: how much?
man 2: $2500.
man 1: $2500?
man 2: yeah. dude, that's rent in LA. that's not too expensive. we're looking for that gay guy, or maybe we'll give it to a struggling actor or something -- you know, he can walk the dogs, take out the garbage, and stay there. it's like you'll get privacy, we'll get privacy. it'll be awesome.
man 1: yeah.
man 1: so how's the guest house coming along?
man 2: rockin', man, rockin' ... it's coming along well ... we've got the frame built, and the steel is up already.
man 1: steel? for the frame?
man 2: no. steel roof.
man 1: ah.
man 1: did you get the driveway done?
man 2: driveway?
man 1: yeah ... when i was out there, you were working on the driveway. laying tile or concrete, i think?
man 2: no, we're not doing anything in the driveway.
man 1: are you sure? i remember the driveway being all torn up.
man 2: no, dude ... nothing in the driveway. oh oh oh -- you're thinking of the floor in the guest house.
(silence for a bit)
man 2: we're looking for a gay guy, very meticulous -- well, they all are, but very meticulous, very neat. someone who can walk the dogs -- you know the kind.
man 1: yeah.
man 2: and he'll need it, like, one week a month. so we can rent it out.
man 1: how much?
man 2: $2500.
man 1: $2500?
man 2: yeah. dude, that's rent in LA. that's not too expensive. we're looking for that gay guy, or maybe we'll give it to a struggling actor or something -- you know, he can walk the dogs, take out the garbage, and stay there. it's like you'll get privacy, we'll get privacy. it'll be awesome.
man 1: yeah.
11.25.2006
shoes and socks
i had a bizarre dream last night ... lately i haven't been dreaming much, and i think it's because i've been snoring so hard over the past few weeks that i'm not even getting deep enough sleep to dream. but last night (even though i snored a lot, apparently) i had one of the most unusual dreams in a long time.
the weird thing about it: in at least one part, i knew it was a dream because of comments i made to myself. this always fascinates me, because it's happened to me a few times before.
in part 1 (yes, my dreams have chapters) i was heading off to a work appointment with a colleague from apple computer ... we were walking along a boardwalk of sorts, heading to a temp agency where i used to work, and we were window shopping. i remember stopping at an art gallery, and we were peering in through the window for a moment, then moved on.
except that i left my shoes at the window.
i didn't realize it until a few minutes later, and once i did, in my dream i had a long shot from the water, looking at us walking on the boardwalk, and i was wearing these ridiculous horizontally striped, brown and yellow socks -- like a clown, or maybe the socks from some NFL uniforms of the 1960s.
i apologized instantly and started running back to find the shoes -- i didn't immediately realize where i'd left them -- while my colleague just rolled her eyes.
***
according to the dream dictionary, this could mean a few things:
i like this analysis ... but read on, and you'll see this:
how, then, to interpret the dream? if i forgot to wear my shoes after the gallery, then i'm a rebel. if i lost my shoes at the gallery, then i'm adrift, unknown to myself, without a solid identity.
the self-referential part, though? in the dream, when i rounded the corner and found my shoes, sitting perfectly next to each other in front of the gallery window, i said "i wonder what this shoe thing means. i'll have to look that up."
i knew it was a dream ... and that's the part that i'm amazed by this morning. having the self-referential dream suggests to me that it's a story as much as it is me working out issues in my life. i wonder if everyone's dreams are like that -- little movies, complete with scenes, different camera angles, cut edits, etc.
three things probably sparked the dream: (1) i worry constantly that my more seasoned colleagues think i'm a novice at my new job -- they'd be right, of course, but i still worry; (2) i took amina to the airport last night and left the house in my slippers; and (3) i was messing around with final cut pro last night, cutting up some movie clips, just to see if i could do it well.
the other part of the dream involved steve jobs convening a panel of interesting people (of which i was one) for a seminar sponsored by target. each of us would be asked a question in our area of expertise, but none of us knew the question before he or she was asked by El Steveo. i was sitting next to jamie foxx, and he was the first one called upon -- to do a tap dance, of all things.
later in the dream, i was asked by steve to describe "the (jibberish word) experience of a website i recently paid for" ... that's not exactly what it was, because i can remember the scene being edited so that i could see the card he was holding ... but i started babbling about dot Mac, and the new webmail interface ... boring stuff, and steve kept giving me the "hurry it up" hand signals.
but the self-referential part: someone murdered jamie foxx by suffocating him with a stick of mitchum deodorant. and he was talking to me, and asked if i wanted the same thing to happen to me, and of course i said "no," and we just laid there, the murderer, jamie foxx and me, and i remember thinking "oh, i've seen this one before" -- as in another dream.
i couldn't find "mitchum deodorant" in any dream dictionary.
the weird thing about it: in at least one part, i knew it was a dream because of comments i made to myself. this always fascinates me, because it's happened to me a few times before.
in part 1 (yes, my dreams have chapters) i was heading off to a work appointment with a colleague from apple computer ... we were walking along a boardwalk of sorts, heading to a temp agency where i used to work, and we were window shopping. i remember stopping at an art gallery, and we were peering in through the window for a moment, then moved on.
except that i left my shoes at the window.
i didn't realize it until a few minutes later, and once i did, in my dream i had a long shot from the water, looking at us walking on the boardwalk, and i was wearing these ridiculous horizontally striped, brown and yellow socks -- like a clown, or maybe the socks from some NFL uniforms of the 1960s.
i apologized instantly and started running back to find the shoes -- i didn't immediately realize where i'd left them -- while my colleague just rolled her eyes.
***
according to the dream dictionary, this could mean a few things:
In general, shoes represent your approach to life. It suggests that you are well-grounded or that you are down to earth. It also represents your convictions about your beliefs. ... If your forget your shoes, then it suggests that you are leaving restraints behind you. You are refusing to conform to some idea or attitude.
i like this analysis ... but read on, and you'll see this:
To dream that you are not wearing any shoes, signifies that you have a lack of confidence in yourself and low self-assurance. You may be dealing with issues concerning your self-identity. Thus if you dream that you lose your shoes, then it suggests that you may be searching for your identity and finding/exploring who you are.
how, then, to interpret the dream? if i forgot to wear my shoes after the gallery, then i'm a rebel. if i lost my shoes at the gallery, then i'm adrift, unknown to myself, without a solid identity.
the self-referential part, though? in the dream, when i rounded the corner and found my shoes, sitting perfectly next to each other in front of the gallery window, i said "i wonder what this shoe thing means. i'll have to look that up."
i knew it was a dream ... and that's the part that i'm amazed by this morning. having the self-referential dream suggests to me that it's a story as much as it is me working out issues in my life. i wonder if everyone's dreams are like that -- little movies, complete with scenes, different camera angles, cut edits, etc.
three things probably sparked the dream: (1) i worry constantly that my more seasoned colleagues think i'm a novice at my new job -- they'd be right, of course, but i still worry; (2) i took amina to the airport last night and left the house in my slippers; and (3) i was messing around with final cut pro last night, cutting up some movie clips, just to see if i could do it well.
the other part of the dream involved steve jobs convening a panel of interesting people (of which i was one) for a seminar sponsored by target. each of us would be asked a question in our area of expertise, but none of us knew the question before he or she was asked by El Steveo. i was sitting next to jamie foxx, and he was the first one called upon -- to do a tap dance, of all things.
later in the dream, i was asked by steve to describe "the (jibberish word) experience of a website i recently paid for" ... that's not exactly what it was, because i can remember the scene being edited so that i could see the card he was holding ... but i started babbling about dot Mac, and the new webmail interface ... boring stuff, and steve kept giving me the "hurry it up" hand signals.
but the self-referential part: someone murdered jamie foxx by suffocating him with a stick of mitchum deodorant. and he was talking to me, and asked if i wanted the same thing to happen to me, and of course i said "no," and we just laid there, the murderer, jamie foxx and me, and i remember thinking "oh, i've seen this one before" -- as in another dream.
i couldn't find "mitchum deodorant" in any dream dictionary.
11.07.2006
diggler voted
well, trotter didn't vote. but i did ... unhappily, without a good feeling in my gut, but it's done.
10.24.2006
more from the vaults
in college, my good friend nancy clinton gave me some old beatles memorabilia her mother didn't want any more ... one of them was this incredible sheet music book of "sgt. pepper" ...
nancy was (probably still is) a pretty cool person -- she never failed to make me laugh, and i had a crush on her for about an hour my freshman year, until i realized that a good friend of mine was going to ask her out ... for some reason, i turned off that part of my brain and said "good luck" and that, as they say, was that.
she visited my parents' estate in farmington once, and a few weeks after that i waited in line with about every senior woman at denison and secured her a really good room in the best all-women dorm ... for some reason, i turned off that same part of my brain mentioned above and wasted a great opportunity to flirt with rich college babes.
for some reason, the lyrics to the songs on side A are on individual pages inside, but the lyrics to side B are on the back cover here ... it's odd to me, because that is by far the better side. six songs -- indian raga, old-tyme vaudeville shtick, power-pop, distorted saxophones, a hard-rock visit from side A and then "a day in the life" ... for my money that's the side i prefer. especially "when i'm sixty-four" and then "lovely rita."
the original album came with cutouts: a moustache, a picture card of Sgt. Pepper, stripes, badges and a "stand up" of the band. and here the theme is continued, thought thank goodness nobody cut that part out.
nancy was (probably still is) a pretty cool person -- she never failed to make me laugh, and i had a crush on her for about an hour my freshman year, until i realized that a good friend of mine was going to ask her out ... for some reason, i turned off that part of my brain and said "good luck" and that, as they say, was that.
she visited my parents' estate in farmington once, and a few weeks after that i waited in line with about every senior woman at denison and secured her a really good room in the best all-women dorm ... for some reason, i turned off that same part of my brain mentioned above and wasted a great opportunity to flirt with rich college babes.
for some reason, the lyrics to the songs on side A are on individual pages inside, but the lyrics to side B are on the back cover here ... it's odd to me, because that is by far the better side. six songs -- indian raga, old-tyme vaudeville shtick, power-pop, distorted saxophones, a hard-rock visit from side A and then "a day in the life" ... for my money that's the side i prefer. especially "when i'm sixty-four" and then "lovely rita."
the original album came with cutouts: a moustache, a picture card of Sgt. Pepper, stripes, badges and a "stand up" of the band. and here the theme is continued, thought thank goodness nobody cut that part out.
10.23.2006
10.21.2006
blast from the past -- century-old denison postcards
i have a pile of things to be scanned and blogged about that reaches almost to the ceiling -- old ads, original 128k mac manuals, lots of snapshots from the pre-digital days ... and i never get around to doing it.
but in the past few weeks, i've secured a brand-new mac pro with like a bazillion gigs of RAM, and while setting it up, i decided to attach the ol' flatbed and start some scanning.
first up: old postcards of denison university ... at one time, before the nostalgia for campus days completely wore off, i would troll ebay and look for denison items. invariably i'd find tons of stuff from denison, texas, and from some harlot author named janelle denison. i did manage to find some old postcards, with the intention of ... well, i can't say what my intention was at the time. it's just a weakness -- in finding URLs for this post, i was on ebay and almost bid on a pennant from 1918.
sigh.
if memory serves, this is now called barney-davis hall. it was barney when i was there, and was the science building at the time. i have heard, though i don't really know for sure, that it's now administrative offices. it had the old, creaky wood floors, though i was only in there about three times in four years (and most of those were to see one person).
and when i say "if memory serves" i mean "i have been looking at this because i can't remember for shit anymore."
doane hall was originally called doane academy, and according to my trusty copy of "heritage and promise: denison 1831-1981," doane was built in 1892 to house students, college offices and a big-ass chapel. as is the case with most colleges, the administrative needs grow like weeds -- i would imagine the administration took the building over in 1893.
doane had gorgeous offices, especially for the president on the second floor. michele myers was president during my time there; my roommate, best friend, bullsheet editor and all-around procrastination teacher john had the biggest crush on that woman's voice -- not her body, not her face (though she was cute and perky), just her accent. the mere mention of her name still makes john blush.
she'd meet with the campus media editors once a week, to help manage the stories we were reporting. for the most part, she did a great job, as the campus media had no teeth. i still kick myself thinking of all the real news that i knew about, but never ever reported ... drug busts, sexual assaults, an underground klan-esque group of fraternity boys, professors diddling with co-eds -- denison had it all. too bad most students never knew about it, or only knew very little (and even that through rumor and innuendo).
these postcards all come from a professor named a.a. griffa. i have to scour the book to see if he's mentioned; there is no index. damn you, g. wallace chessman, denison historian!
burton, i think, houses music. i took a guitar class there once. it's either music or dance -- i'm voting music, but only because i don't remember staring at dancer babes in that building. i stared at (insert discipline/major here) babes a lot -- lots of staring, very little touching.
there is something called the " Samson Talbot Hall of Biological Science" but this ain't that ... at least, i don't think. there was a bunch of work done in that area between the west quad and the academic quad not long after i graduated. at one time, building 12 was woods and a few parking spots.
isn't it sad how little i remember of campus? it's only been a decade.
but in the past few weeks, i've secured a brand-new mac pro with like a bazillion gigs of RAM, and while setting it up, i decided to attach the ol' flatbed and start some scanning.
first up: old postcards of denison university ... at one time, before the nostalgia for campus days completely wore off, i would troll ebay and look for denison items. invariably i'd find tons of stuff from denison, texas, and from some harlot author named janelle denison. i did manage to find some old postcards, with the intention of ... well, i can't say what my intention was at the time. it's just a weakness -- in finding URLs for this post, i was on ebay and almost bid on a pennant from 1918.
sigh.
if memory serves, this is now called barney-davis hall. it was barney when i was there, and was the science building at the time. i have heard, though i don't really know for sure, that it's now administrative offices. it had the old, creaky wood floors, though i was only in there about three times in four years (and most of those were to see one person).
and when i say "if memory serves" i mean "i have been looking at this because i can't remember for shit anymore."
doane hall was originally called doane academy, and according to my trusty copy of "heritage and promise: denison 1831-1981," doane was built in 1892 to house students, college offices and a big-ass chapel. as is the case with most colleges, the administrative needs grow like weeds -- i would imagine the administration took the building over in 1893.
doane had gorgeous offices, especially for the president on the second floor. michele myers was president during my time there; my roommate, best friend, bullsheet editor and all-around procrastination teacher john had the biggest crush on that woman's voice -- not her body, not her face (though she was cute and perky), just her accent. the mere mention of her name still makes john blush.
she'd meet with the campus media editors once a week, to help manage the stories we were reporting. for the most part, she did a great job, as the campus media had no teeth. i still kick myself thinking of all the real news that i knew about, but never ever reported ... drug busts, sexual assaults, an underground klan-esque group of fraternity boys, professors diddling with co-eds -- denison had it all. too bad most students never knew about it, or only knew very little (and even that through rumor and innuendo).
these postcards all come from a professor named a.a. griffa. i have to scour the book to see if he's mentioned; there is no index. damn you, g. wallace chessman, denison historian!
burton, i think, houses music. i took a guitar class there once. it's either music or dance -- i'm voting music, but only because i don't remember staring at dancer babes in that building. i stared at (insert discipline/major here) babes a lot -- lots of staring, very little touching.
there is something called the " Samson Talbot Hall of Biological Science" but this ain't that ... at least, i don't think. there was a bunch of work done in that area between the west quad and the academic quad not long after i graduated. at one time, building 12 was woods and a few parking spots.
isn't it sad how little i remember of campus? it's only been a decade.
10.18.2006
10.15.2006
hotel rooms are curious things
this is the third hotel stay i've had in the past week -- a courtyard by marriott in elmhurst, illinois; the hollywood roosevelt hotel in la-la land; and the marriott santa clara in san jose, california.
my dad called yesterday and greeted me with "hello, globetrotter!" ...
i'm not, and i don't want to be, especially if being one means having to spend time in hotel rooms. now don't get me wrong -- there is nothing at all bad about my experiences in the marriott chain. and i got silver elite status a few weeks ago (for doing nothing, thank you very much), so it was especially pleasant to be greeted like a semi-rock star here, with concierge lounge access and a free choice of an in-room dirty movie, a cup of day-old coffee, or 2.5 marriott reward points -- just for being me!
wow.
but it's the little things that really suck. like the in-room coffee makers marriott provides. it has one of those oval pouches of coffee, and a little triangular package with all the essential coffee supplies inside. for a four-cup pot of coffee, marriott helpfully provides two creamers, one sugar and two sweet-n-chemically-low packets.
i used the entire supply on one cup of coffee.
seriously, marriott, if you're going to offer it, offer it right -- don't make it half-assed, hoping that i'll order a pot of coffee to my room. if that's your plan, then do like the roosevelt and make that little coffee maker akin to the cash bar and charge me to use it. that'll be enough incentive to call room service. or like the courtyard last week, and don't supply anything.
make it easy, make it clear, and let me make the choice, don't half-ass me to death, or nickel and dime me into a choice that i'd be happy to make on my own, without your bizarre incentives.
my dad called yesterday and greeted me with "hello, globetrotter!" ...
i'm not, and i don't want to be, especially if being one means having to spend time in hotel rooms. now don't get me wrong -- there is nothing at all bad about my experiences in the marriott chain. and i got silver elite status a few weeks ago (for doing nothing, thank you very much), so it was especially pleasant to be greeted like a semi-rock star here, with concierge lounge access and a free choice of an in-room dirty movie, a cup of day-old coffee, or 2.5 marriott reward points -- just for being me!
wow.
but it's the little things that really suck. like the in-room coffee makers marriott provides. it has one of those oval pouches of coffee, and a little triangular package with all the essential coffee supplies inside. for a four-cup pot of coffee, marriott helpfully provides two creamers, one sugar and two sweet-n-chemically-low packets.
i used the entire supply on one cup of coffee.
seriously, marriott, if you're going to offer it, offer it right -- don't make it half-assed, hoping that i'll order a pot of coffee to my room. if that's your plan, then do like the roosevelt and make that little coffee maker akin to the cash bar and charge me to use it. that'll be enough incentive to call room service. or like the courtyard last week, and don't supply anything.
make it easy, make it clear, and let me make the choice, don't half-ass me to death, or nickel and dime me into a choice that i'd be happy to make on my own, without your bizarre incentives.
10.14.2006
what i found to be weird this week
i was in hollywood, staying at the roosevelt hotel, and each morning the paper delivered to my door: the new york times.
wait. isn't there some other major paper ... with close to the same name ... that's based in los angeles? apparently, that place is a mess.
wait. isn't there some other major paper ... with close to the same name ... that's based in los angeles? apparently, that place is a mess.
10.06.2006
therapy
a large dose of bad news in the typing out loud household this week ... a dear friend is sick, and it's got us very sad and blue.
so my new therapy will be to look at this picture, over and over.
10.02.2006
random stuff that's been in my "temps" folder for weeks now
"Monday Night Football" eloquence by Mr. Tony Kornheiser:
And "Monday Night Football" ... whatever-the-opposite-of-"eloquence"-is by Mr. Joe Theismann:
"And glad that we could be here."
What a moron.
***
The 10 best Will Farrell skits, as determined by 80s-favorite Cracked magazine. Nature Goulet is good, but "that's why I love pornography" is my all-time favorite.
***
Maybe it just seems to me that graphic design on both sides of WWII is the best graphic design of the past 100 years. I mean, look at this 40s-inspired poster for George Clooney's latest Oscar attempt -- I mean, that's just outstanding design. Maybe that's why I found this library of University of Michigan football program covers so interesting.
But I think this is my favorite:
***
Norm MacDonald makes fun of "The Crocodile Hunter's" death ...
***
Tiny, edible food.
Monday night belongs to Brett Favre. He is a dead-solid lock first-ballot Hall of Famer. Yet what we've been hearing for a year has been, "Will Favre get out of the way so that the Packers can look at Aaron Rodgers?"
Me? I don't know Aaron Rodgers from Mr. Rogers, and I don't care to look at him, as long as Favre is upright.
Prideful, defiant, singular Brett Favre has been the face of the Packers since 1992. That's 15 seasons -- or since Aaron Rodgers was seven. In that time, Favre has started 225 straight games at quarterback. Like Trent Green, quarterbacks get carted off the field every game. These guys are meat back there, and somehow Favre keeps going.
Favre playing football, Cal Ripken playing baseball, Joan Rivers on the red carpet -- there's your ironmen. Sure, Favre has lost a little off his fastball, and sure, Favre throws into double and triple coverage too often, but after playing Hamlet about retirement, Favre has finally come clean. He wants to play football no matter how lousy his team is. He wants to be out there slinging it, trying to make something big happen, raging against the dyling of the light. Good for him, good for us.
And "Monday Night Football" ... whatever-the-opposite-of-"eloquence"-is by Mr. Joe Theismann:
"And glad that we could be here."
What a moron.
***
The 10 best Will Farrell skits, as determined by 80s-favorite Cracked magazine. Nature Goulet is good, but "that's why I love pornography" is my all-time favorite.
***
Maybe it just seems to me that graphic design on both sides of WWII is the best graphic design of the past 100 years. I mean, look at this 40s-inspired poster for George Clooney's latest Oscar attempt -- I mean, that's just outstanding design. Maybe that's why I found this library of University of Michigan football program covers so interesting.
But I think this is my favorite:
***
Norm MacDonald makes fun of "The Crocodile Hunter's" death ...
***
Tiny, edible food.
9.27.2006
playing to your audience
i'm in chicago today and tomorrow, on a quick business trip.
there's some sort of convention in town -- for chicago, that's almost an absurd statement, as there's always a show somewhere -- and as a result, it's impossible to find a good hotel room downtown. i was lucky to find a spot at the red roof inn; it's not at all as expensive as, say, the marriotts or hiltons of the world, which is good for my company, but not at all good for me.
my first thought upon entering the room: yeah, this is about right. it definitely plays down to its price. it's not roach-motel material, to be sure, but one could mistake the wallpaper for faux wood paneling, and the floor lamp in the corner looks suspiciously like one i had in my dorm room back in 1992.
i had an OK sleep, and woke up groggy, looking for coffee out on ontario. i shared the elevator with a bunch of people wearing those around-the-neck nametags, and that's when i learned that the convention in town is for promotions people -- and i get the feeling it's the "crappy-company-logo-giveaways" kind of promotions, not the "we're-out-pushing-a-new-product-or-event" kind of promotions.
why?
everyone in the elevator and the jammed lobby (red roof inn has one "cappuchino" maker machine there) (("there" as in "lobby," not "elevator" -- that'd be awkward)) ... wait. i lost my train of thought.
oh yes. everyone was dressed in bad-used-car-salesperson clothes, with lots of poofy and/or slicked-back hair, gold chains and general unpolished fashion sense. that said to me: these people would sell me 200 coffee mugs with my company's logo on it.
i guess the hotel fits the crowd, in a way ... and i'm not saying that's a bad thing at all. i mean, i am staying here as well, you understand. i wouldn't do it again for business, but a weekend in chicago where you're not going to be in the room much? it's perfectly affordable, and has a great location.
but let's take it somewhere: let's move the promotions crowd to the four seasons in downtown san francisco, where i had a business dinner a few months ago. i don't know if this crowd would feel comfortable there, just as the people enjoying the $20 tuna tartare would probably not feel "at home" in front of the crappuchino machine down in the lobby. people tend to gravitate to where they feel comfortable, and those places know "their" crowd and play to it accordingly.
all those words for that last sentence ... i need to edit this crap more often.
there's some sort of convention in town -- for chicago, that's almost an absurd statement, as there's always a show somewhere -- and as a result, it's impossible to find a good hotel room downtown. i was lucky to find a spot at the red roof inn; it's not at all as expensive as, say, the marriotts or hiltons of the world, which is good for my company, but not at all good for me.
my first thought upon entering the room: yeah, this is about right. it definitely plays down to its price. it's not roach-motel material, to be sure, but one could mistake the wallpaper for faux wood paneling, and the floor lamp in the corner looks suspiciously like one i had in my dorm room back in 1992.
i had an OK sleep, and woke up groggy, looking for coffee out on ontario. i shared the elevator with a bunch of people wearing those around-the-neck nametags, and that's when i learned that the convention in town is for promotions people -- and i get the feeling it's the "crappy-company-logo-giveaways" kind of promotions, not the "we're-out-pushing-a-new-product-or-event" kind of promotions.
why?
everyone in the elevator and the jammed lobby (red roof inn has one "cappuchino" maker machine there) (("there" as in "lobby," not "elevator" -- that'd be awkward)) ... wait. i lost my train of thought.
oh yes. everyone was dressed in bad-used-car-salesperson clothes, with lots of poofy and/or slicked-back hair, gold chains and general unpolished fashion sense. that said to me: these people would sell me 200 coffee mugs with my company's logo on it.
i guess the hotel fits the crowd, in a way ... and i'm not saying that's a bad thing at all. i mean, i am staying here as well, you understand. i wouldn't do it again for business, but a weekend in chicago where you're not going to be in the room much? it's perfectly affordable, and has a great location.
but let's take it somewhere: let's move the promotions crowd to the four seasons in downtown san francisco, where i had a business dinner a few months ago. i don't know if this crowd would feel comfortable there, just as the people enjoying the $20 tuna tartare would probably not feel "at home" in front of the crappuchino machine down in the lobby. people tend to gravitate to where they feel comfortable, and those places know "their" crowd and play to it accordingly.
all those words for that last sentence ... i need to edit this crap more often.
9.20.2006
'touch the panda' ... i haven't heard that one before, but i like it.
a chinese man was bitten by a panda -- and then bit the panda back.
maybe we can turn "touch the panda" into another masturbation euphamism.
yeah, i was up late last night and decided to touch the panda before i went to bed.
don't you know that if you touch the panda, you'll go blind?
and the whole thing reminds me of a joke from "the simpsons" ... from "yah-hoo!," the "hee-haw" knockoff show where lurleen sang.
redneck 1: i caught my wife sleepin' with another man.
redneck 2: bitter?
redneck 1: yeah ... i bit him too.
"He felt a sudden urge to touch the panda with his hand," and jumped into the enclosure, the newspaper said.
maybe we can turn "touch the panda" into another masturbation euphamism.
yeah, i was up late last night and decided to touch the panda before i went to bed.
don't you know that if you touch the panda, you'll go blind?
and the whole thing reminds me of a joke from "the simpsons" ... from "yah-hoo!," the "hee-haw" knockoff show where lurleen sang.
redneck 1: i caught my wife sleepin' with another man.
redneck 2: bitter?
redneck 1: yeah ... i bit him too.
9.19.2006
so many bad websites i've been forced to look at this week
so as i start trolling the internet for contact info ... to make the cold calls for my job ... i'm reminded of what chairman mao once said:
a journal of one thousand miles begins when you get off your ass and go call someone.
or something like that.
a journal of one thousand miles begins when you get off your ass and go call someone.
or something like that.
9.18.2006
lazy sunday
i blew off football yesterday and went out with diggler to take some pictures. he got into bluff creek and came home muddy and full of burrs ... but he had a good time, and i got nice shots like this ...
and now it's monday morning, 8 a.m., and I've been up since 5. not sure why, but i was up. and i watched "Woody Allen: A Life in Film," a made-for-Turner-Classic-Movies documentary with just Woody and clips from his movies. Sadly, it was made four years ago, and ends with "Hollywood Ending," which was one of his weaker pieces, and yet he calls it one of his unqualified successes. Maybe I should rent it this week and watch it again.
I gave up on Woody Allen movies with "Hollywood Ending" because they all kind of sucked. I think "Small Time Crooks" was the last one I enjoyed without (major) reservation. Since then they all seemed to be the same movie, with the same jokes, the same plotlines, etc.
It's cold outside. I want to go write a screenplay. :)
9.14.2006
9.10.2006
something seems off about this headline
it looks like it should read "gore says he hasn't ruled out 2nd dessert," doesn't it?
9.08.2006
nooooooooo kelly clarkson!
last night, as the EMTs were taking off my shirt and getting me ready for my first EKG, my doctor was very calmly and patiently -- this is what they call "beside manner" -- asking me questions about why i checked myself into the ER a few minutes earlier.
had dr. abelson not diverted my attention to what was going on in my chestal-hair region, i certainly would have re-enacted this scene (scrub forward to 2:21 to see what i'm talking about), complete with every swear word.
***
so yes, last night i checked myself into the emergency room. why? well, for the second time in a week, i started having bizarre chest pains -- imagine having to burp, but not being able to get it out -- at the lower tip of my sternum.
the first time, a week ago tonight, was pretty weird. i actually didn't tell amina about it, because i didn't want to worry her unnecessarily. we had friends over for dinner and after they left, i felt so horrible that i had to lie down on the couch, which is something i never do when there's a kitchen to be cleaned up. the pain actually was intense, and would last about 30-45 seconds or so, then disappear again.
i was a bit short of breath and clammy, though one could easily make the argument that thinking oh shit i'm having a heart attack would be enough to make one nervous and sweaty. and that's what i told myself -- all this was just me overreacting, and even though nothing is wrong with me, i just prefer being on the couch, immobile and unable to breathe properly.
it passed, but it was on my mind. a lot. as have a lot of other things -- if i was afraid to blog about target, and for the most part, i was, i'm certainly not willing to blog about a company of 10 employees. so a lot of work-related stuff has been bottled up inside, keeping me awake at night, replaying conversations in my head, etc.
so i'm not sleeping, i'm not exercising, etc., since the dinner party last friday.
***
fast forward to yesterday: i'm in a five-hour demo session at work, where we're showing off our software to potential buyers on the Left Coast, one hour for each of four different interest groups there (and one hour for lunch that ends up being consumed by other meetings). the final hour is spent with the IT folks, who ask questions that make the cockles of my heart warm -- streaming, hosting, platforms, databases, etc.
well, about 30 minutes in, said cockles went from "warm" to "fairly screaming with pain" ... the whole thing started again, except this time it was accompanied by some pains shooting in the outer parts of my necks, where i would imagine aortas to be, and weird tingling in my pinkie finger on my right hand.
after thinking about it for a few minutes, i decide that it's not a good idea to ignore this again, even though the steelers are opening their season in about three hours. i called amina and ... this is why i love my wife. she's in the medical field, and she knows a lot of good, talented people. so she gets me on one line, and a cardiac expert on the other, and is asking me a question, then passing that on to her expert friend, and vice versa, for about five minutes.
we all decide that i need to find the ER, and fast.
but the debate: do i drive myself, or call an ambulance? driving myself is good because i can pick which hospital to attend (we have a favorite) and maybe i can change my mind on the way and not worry about all this silliness. driving is bad because, well, i could kill myself and a few other people should this turn out to be the real thing.
we eventually decide that it'd be safe for me to drive as long as i was talking to her on the phone the entire time. logical -- she could just take over the wheel via her cell phone, were my heart to suddenly burst open or something. yeah, that's a safe plan.
***
so i made it to my hospital of choice, and my main concern was parking my car: i didn't want to pay for parking, of course, and i knew that most emergency rooms have free parking, but i couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get the damn gate to open. i asked an unkempt looking gentleman if he knew how to do it, and he advised me to push the button that said "push here to open gate" ... i felt stupid, but didn't have the time or inclination to explain that my aorta was turning into swiss cheese at the moment, so i just thanked him, hit the button and parked.
i checked myself in with the immortal line "hello ... i'm having chest pains, so i'm here to check myself in." it was all i could think of, and truth be told, i didn't really have time to think of any good lines on the way over. i did come up with a good one, though, as the attending nurse asked me if i had any medical conditions. "just being stunningly handsome," i said, and we both laughed.
eventually i got into a room, and the ER team descended, and what do you know? mr. unkempt parking gate advisor was my doctor. so turns out he heard the whole story after all. :)
***
i'm home now, and there's not a whole lot to say, except that every test they took showed absolutely no sign of any damage, or even concern with my heart, lungs or arteries -- no blockage, very little plaque, calcium levels at zero, etc.
i'm thankful to God that i'm OK, and now i'm left wondering -- what was this all about, anyway, and what do i need to change to stop it from happening again.
had dr. abelson not diverted my attention to what was going on in my chestal-hair region, i certainly would have re-enacted this scene (scrub forward to 2:21 to see what i'm talking about), complete with every swear word.
***
so yes, last night i checked myself into the emergency room. why? well, for the second time in a week, i started having bizarre chest pains -- imagine having to burp, but not being able to get it out -- at the lower tip of my sternum.
the first time, a week ago tonight, was pretty weird. i actually didn't tell amina about it, because i didn't want to worry her unnecessarily. we had friends over for dinner and after they left, i felt so horrible that i had to lie down on the couch, which is something i never do when there's a kitchen to be cleaned up. the pain actually was intense, and would last about 30-45 seconds or so, then disappear again.
i was a bit short of breath and clammy, though one could easily make the argument that thinking oh shit i'm having a heart attack would be enough to make one nervous and sweaty. and that's what i told myself -- all this was just me overreacting, and even though nothing is wrong with me, i just prefer being on the couch, immobile and unable to breathe properly.
it passed, but it was on my mind. a lot. as have a lot of other things -- if i was afraid to blog about target, and for the most part, i was, i'm certainly not willing to blog about a company of 10 employees. so a lot of work-related stuff has been bottled up inside, keeping me awake at night, replaying conversations in my head, etc.
so i'm not sleeping, i'm not exercising, etc., since the dinner party last friday.
***
fast forward to yesterday: i'm in a five-hour demo session at work, where we're showing off our software to potential buyers on the Left Coast, one hour for each of four different interest groups there (and one hour for lunch that ends up being consumed by other meetings). the final hour is spent with the IT folks, who ask questions that make the cockles of my heart warm -- streaming, hosting, platforms, databases, etc.
well, about 30 minutes in, said cockles went from "warm" to "fairly screaming with pain" ... the whole thing started again, except this time it was accompanied by some pains shooting in the outer parts of my necks, where i would imagine aortas to be, and weird tingling in my pinkie finger on my right hand.
after thinking about it for a few minutes, i decide that it's not a good idea to ignore this again, even though the steelers are opening their season in about three hours. i called amina and ... this is why i love my wife. she's in the medical field, and she knows a lot of good, talented people. so she gets me on one line, and a cardiac expert on the other, and is asking me a question, then passing that on to her expert friend, and vice versa, for about five minutes.
we all decide that i need to find the ER, and fast.
but the debate: do i drive myself, or call an ambulance? driving myself is good because i can pick which hospital to attend (we have a favorite) and maybe i can change my mind on the way and not worry about all this silliness. driving is bad because, well, i could kill myself and a few other people should this turn out to be the real thing.
we eventually decide that it'd be safe for me to drive as long as i was talking to her on the phone the entire time. logical -- she could just take over the wheel via her cell phone, were my heart to suddenly burst open or something. yeah, that's a safe plan.
***
so i made it to my hospital of choice, and my main concern was parking my car: i didn't want to pay for parking, of course, and i knew that most emergency rooms have free parking, but i couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get the damn gate to open. i asked an unkempt looking gentleman if he knew how to do it, and he advised me to push the button that said "push here to open gate" ... i felt stupid, but didn't have the time or inclination to explain that my aorta was turning into swiss cheese at the moment, so i just thanked him, hit the button and parked.
i checked myself in with the immortal line "hello ... i'm having chest pains, so i'm here to check myself in." it was all i could think of, and truth be told, i didn't really have time to think of any good lines on the way over. i did come up with a good one, though, as the attending nurse asked me if i had any medical conditions. "just being stunningly handsome," i said, and we both laughed.
eventually i got into a room, and the ER team descended, and what do you know? mr. unkempt parking gate advisor was my doctor. so turns out he heard the whole story after all. :)
***
i'm home now, and there's not a whole lot to say, except that every test they took showed absolutely no sign of any damage, or even concern with my heart, lungs or arteries -- no blockage, very little plaque, calcium levels at zero, etc.
i'm thankful to God that i'm OK, and now i'm left wondering -- what was this all about, anyway, and what do i need to change to stop it from happening again.
8.31.2006
go stillers
since hailey's been born, she's known a 15-1 season, a 12-4 season, two AFC championship games and one super bowl victory.
i hope she'll remember it all. odds are she won't, though, and they'll suck by the time she's old enough to pay attention.
my first steeler memory is of the 1980 season, when they went 8-8 and missed the playoffs. then i had a decade of mark malone and bubby brister, and a decade of neil o'donnell and kordell stewart.
took me 25 years to get a super bowl victory.
lucky little punk-ass niece of mine .... :)
8.30.2006
early fall chill
it's a frosty 57 F out on the deck this morning; i'm bundled up in a fuzzy pullover, shorts and birks. i've got a cup of coffee, a very warm macbook in my lap, and my puppy at my side, sitting on his crashpad pillow.
when he breathes, i can see his breath, which reminds me to try it myself. sure enough, i can see mine too.
i love late august in minnesota.
i don't know if it's supposed to be like this before the calendar turns to september, but i like it nonetheless. the only bad thing is the reminder that our all-too-short summer is coming to a quick end.
***
we had new carpet put in the house, which is why diggler and i are on the back deck. he hurt his foot a few days ago -- something cut one of his nails to the quick, so any sort of fast walking makes him bleed -- and i've not been able to take him to the vet until this afternoon, so he's had to live out in the garage. he's not quite sure what he did wrong to be punished like this, so i took some pity on him and brought out all the accoutrements of puppy life inside the house: big, comfy pillow; rawhide bone; and, of course, his dad.
the carpet looks awesome, and once i get my camera back from the cleaners (damn dirt on the sensor!) i'll put up some shots on flickr.
***
a few days ago i broke my self-imposed "please don't talk about politics" rule and threw up all over the keyboard ... one reader -- "PJ" -- wrote a very thoughtful comment, and instead of responding there, I thought I'd pull it out to the main page, so that all 10 readers of this humble blog could see it.
The aircraft carrier thing was silly, yes, but it was also designed for CNN and NBC and Fox News -- a thought-to-be-perfect backdrop to prove that major fighting in Iraq was over. I've never understood the people who take that event and turn it into "But ... but ... Bush said Iraq was done! And yet we're still there!"
Look at Bush's opening paragraph:
Regardless of what you think about the veracity of, and effort put toward, that last sentence, it's a bit of a stretch to claim that Bush was celebrating something that his words clearly show he wasn't celebrating.
Thought experiment: Take the U.S. out of the Middle East totally, completely -- pretend both Iraq wars never happened, etc. Can you honestly say that the events we've seen over the past, say, five years wouldn't have happened in some way?
Gee. Arabs hate Jews. Arabs shoot at Jews. Yup -- sure sounds like we played a "big role" in that!
Sorry to be flip about it ... I think several good things happened from our actions in the region lately. The Lebanese getting Syria out of their country, and the first real democratic elections in Egypt, to name a few. Not every action can be considered totally a "good" thing or a "bad" thing, as nothing happens in a vacuum, of course.
Clinton did the same thing -- which is not to fall back on the tired "But a Democrat does it!" defense, but merely to point out that that's what politics has become. It's a show, for cable TV news programs. Everything that every politician does is scripted, sculpted, tested, polled and choreographed. I agree that it leads to cynicism from voters, but I don't agree that this White House does it any worse than others have, or will do in the future.
Social Security: tied up in partisan gridlock
Healthcare: I think Bush gave a bunch of money to seniors a few years back
Education: No Child Left Behind
I'm not a fan of the solutions given for those last two, but I don't think we "haven't seen any progress" on those issues.
They aren't in tune with mainstream America, and yet they won elections in 2000, 2002, 2004 and very well might win in 2006.
I don't know -- my internet tubes are working just fine. :)
when he breathes, i can see his breath, which reminds me to try it myself. sure enough, i can see mine too.
i love late august in minnesota.
i don't know if it's supposed to be like this before the calendar turns to september, but i like it nonetheless. the only bad thing is the reminder that our all-too-short summer is coming to a quick end.
***
we had new carpet put in the house, which is why diggler and i are on the back deck. he hurt his foot a few days ago -- something cut one of his nails to the quick, so any sort of fast walking makes him bleed -- and i've not been able to take him to the vet until this afternoon, so he's had to live out in the garage. he's not quite sure what he did wrong to be punished like this, so i took some pity on him and brought out all the accoutrements of puppy life inside the house: big, comfy pillow; rawhide bone; and, of course, his dad.
the carpet looks awesome, and once i get my camera back from the cleaners (damn dirt on the sensor!) i'll put up some shots on flickr.
***
a few days ago i broke my self-imposed "please don't talk about politics" rule and threw up all over the keyboard ... one reader -- "PJ" -- wrote a very thoughtful comment, and instead of responding there, I thought I'd pull it out to the main page, so that all 10 readers of this humble blog could see it.
With that said, I think the underlying reason individuals in the "liberal" media like to lash out at this administration boils down to the incompetence they've shown in handling this war and the issues plaguing our country over the last 6 years. This is not a knee jerk response with little thought. History clearly shows that the U.S. has continually underestimated the insurgency in Irag (among other things). In 2003 our President stood on the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln in front of a massive banner that read "Mission Accomplished" to boast about our glorious victory in Iraq. The events of that whole day seem completely surreal considering we continue to have large numbers of troops on the ground even three years later with no end in sight. This one event blatantly shows the incompetence of not only the President, but also the people that surround him.
The aircraft carrier thing was silly, yes, but it was also designed for CNN and NBC and Fox News -- a thought-to-be-perfect backdrop to prove that major fighting in Iraq was over. I've never understood the people who take that event and turn it into "But ... but ... Bush said Iraq was done! And yet we're still there!"
Look at Bush's opening paragraph:
Major combat operations in Iraq have ended. In the Battle of Iraq, the United States and our allies have prevailed. And now our coalition is engaged in securing and reconstructing that country.
Regardless of what you think about the veracity of, and effort put toward, that last sentence, it's a bit of a stretch to claim that Bush was celebrating something that his words clearly show he wasn't celebrating.
And to put icing on the cake, the Middle East is now becoming increasingly unstable. Granted some of that isn't the fault of the U.S, but we've played a big role.
Thought experiment: Take the U.S. out of the Middle East totally, completely -- pretend both Iraq wars never happened, etc. Can you honestly say that the events we've seen over the past, say, five years wouldn't have happened in some way?
Gee. Arabs hate Jews. Arabs shoot at Jews. Yup -- sure sounds like we played a "big role" in that!
Sorry to be flip about it ... I think several good things happened from our actions in the region lately. The Lebanese getting Syria out of their country, and the first real democratic elections in Egypt, to name a few. Not every action can be considered totally a "good" thing or a "bad" thing, as nothing happens in a vacuum, of course.
I think American's have gotten tired of the constant "spin" that comes out of the White House and they want to see a president who is willing to converse and listen to people who aren't ultra conservative republicans. An example of this would be when he holds those town hall meetings and the guest list is virtually locked down so only supporters of the Republican Party can really ask questions to the President.
Clinton did the same thing -- which is not to fall back on the tired "But a Democrat does it!" defense, but merely to point out that that's what politics has become. It's a show, for cable TV news programs. Everything that every politician does is scripted, sculpted, tested, polled and choreographed. I agree that it leads to cynicism from voters, but I don't agree that this White House does it any worse than others have, or will do in the future.
There are also many large domestic issues that this administration hasn't done anything about, even though there has been a Republican majority in Congress for the last six years. We haven't seen any progress on Social Security, Healthcare, or Education. Instead they go round and round debating stem cell research, flag burning, and gay marriage in an effort to scare ignorant midwestern conservatives to vote for the Republican Party. The blame can be partly put on Democrats as well for not pushing and working with the Republicans on their initiatives so they can make some positive changes happen for our country.
Social Security: tied up in partisan gridlock
Healthcare: I think Bush gave a bunch of money to seniors a few years back
Education: No Child Left Behind
I'm not a fan of the solutions given for those last two, but I don't think we "haven't seen any progress" on those issues.
This is why I believe people are so willing to give knee jerk responses in the media today. We are all in a complete and utter state of disillusion about the way our government has acted over the last six years. Like it or not, the buck stops with the Republicans because they have been in the majority. Please don't take this response as me bashing the Republican Party either. I'm not saying all republicans are lunatics*, but it just seems like they aren't in tune with mainstream America right now. Instead, it seems like they are definitely leaning hard towards the right just to appeal to the safety of their base. While doing this, they are also making a conscious decision to turn a deaf ear on any good ideas or debates that come from the left.
They aren't in tune with mainstream America, and yet they won elections in 2000, 2002, 2004 and very well might win in 2006.
* Although, I’m pretty sure if you looked up lunatic in the dictionary there would be a picture of Ted Stevens.
I don't know -- my internet tubes are working just fine. :)
8.29.2006
well, be fair -- you can't prove it isn't true
i mean, maybe in 2083 Dubya's "hommies" might be taking up a large part of the federal budget, what with entitlement spending so out of control.
8.28.2006
el confirmatino
a harried colleague just IM'd me to say that she's "just sending a confirmatino" about an upcoming conference call.
sounds like a mexican superhero ...
"mira… en el cielo… ¿es él un pájaro? ¿es un plano? ¡no! ¡es el confirmatino!"
sounds like a mexican superhero ...
"mira… en el cielo… ¿es él un pájaro? ¿es un plano? ¡no! ¡es el confirmatino!"
8.27.2006
to grind (and brew), or not to grind (and brew)
long ago, i got married.
well, it's not that long ago -- three years on tuesday, to be precise.
the best part about the marriage? being allowed to register for gifts.
:)
i mean, come on. where else but in marriage (or possibly in first-baby-hood) do you get to pick out expensive presents, and then people you invite to the wedding are obliged to buy it for you? i mean, come on! it's like the totally greatest scam ever.
and the crowning jewel from our registry -- the thing that set my heart aflutter -- was our kitchen aid mixer. it's been used and abused for three years, and it's still going strong. in fact, i'm going to use in here in a few minutes to make a peanut butter pie and maybe even some pudding.
the second greatest registry item, at least for me, was the cuisinart 10-cup grind and brew coffeemaker that my sister got me. all shiny and brushed metal-y, with the grinder that sounds like a jet engine, and the coffee that stays warm all damn day ... it was the first thing i tried, and i used it every morning.
i say "used" because about a year into its life, it decided that i only really needed three cups worth of water brewed, even though i had poured in far more water than that. so i'd turn it on again, and it'd do something like two more cups, and then decide that, really, all i needed was five cups worth ... rinse and repeat a few more times, and i'd have a full pot of coffee.
we took it back to the registry place and got a replacement -- which, about a year later, did the exact same thing.
had i done any research whatsoever, i'd have seen that the cuisinart grind and brew blows goats. looks like i'm not the only one who hates this piece of crap ...
note: I may have embellished this a bit
this time, though, i'd had it with the grind and brew, so we just got a store credit and went to costco to get this coffeemaker and this burr grinder. If eOpinions.com can be trusted, my new coffeemaker will kick total ass in the mornings, without any messy sexual relations with farm animals -- but the grinder, alas, will keep the sheep milling around outside my garage door.
as kent brockman would say, "only time ... will tell."
well, it's not that long ago -- three years on tuesday, to be precise.
the best part about the marriage? being allowed to register for gifts.
:)
i mean, come on. where else but in marriage (or possibly in first-baby-hood) do you get to pick out expensive presents, and then people you invite to the wedding are obliged to buy it for you? i mean, come on! it's like the totally greatest scam ever.
and the crowning jewel from our registry -- the thing that set my heart aflutter -- was our kitchen aid mixer. it's been used and abused for three years, and it's still going strong. in fact, i'm going to use in here in a few minutes to make a peanut butter pie and maybe even some pudding.
the second greatest registry item, at least for me, was the cuisinart 10-cup grind and brew coffeemaker that my sister got me. all shiny and brushed metal-y, with the grinder that sounds like a jet engine, and the coffee that stays warm all damn day ... it was the first thing i tried, and i used it every morning.
i say "used" because about a year into its life, it decided that i only really needed three cups worth of water brewed, even though i had poured in far more water than that. so i'd turn it on again, and it'd do something like two more cups, and then decide that, really, all i needed was five cups worth ... rinse and repeat a few more times, and i'd have a full pot of coffee.
we took it back to the registry place and got a replacement -- which, about a year later, did the exact same thing.
had i done any research whatsoever, i'd have seen that the cuisinart grind and brew blows goats. looks like i'm not the only one who hates this piece of crap ...
I've had my brewer for less than a year, and it just completely quit working this morning. That's what prompted me to finally write a reveiw of this monster! That, and the fact that it performed oral sex on a goat that was wandering through my kitchen this morning.
note: I may have embellished this a bit
this time, though, i'd had it with the grind and brew, so we just got a store credit and went to costco to get this coffeemaker and this burr grinder. If eOpinions.com can be trusted, my new coffeemaker will kick total ass in the mornings, without any messy sexual relations with farm animals -- but the grinder, alas, will keep the sheep milling around outside my garage door.
as kent brockman would say, "only time ... will tell."
8.26.2006
best team preview ever
having lived in minnesota for two football seasons now, i feel as though this preview-cum-history of the vikings is one of the best articles i've read about the team.
well, any article that ends with "My team has games to win and hookers to nail" pretty much sums up all NFL teams, doesn't it?
well, any article that ends with "My team has games to win and hookers to nail" pretty much sums up all NFL teams, doesn't it?
8.25.2006
all quotes guaranteed true
9:26
me -- this is so sick it's funny
john -- holy cow.
9:27
me -- yes. hitler's cross
me -- i hear their appetizers are good
john -- "The owner insisted then _ and still does _ that the name and theme of his new eatery is only meant to attract attention, "
john -- No kidding.
me -- what they can do with matzo balls is just ... amazing
9:30
me -- BREAKING NEWS
9:33
john -- He decided to change it to Eichmann's Final Cafe.
me -- lol
me -- stalin's sweets
me -- pol pot-sticker heaven
john -- Mussolini's Pizza
me -- lol
me -- delivered on time, of course
john -- Your life depends on it.
me -- this is so sick it's funny
john -- holy cow.
9:27
me -- yes. hitler's cross
me -- i hear their appetizers are good
john -- "The owner insisted then _ and still does _ that the name and theme of his new eatery is only meant to attract attention, "
john -- No kidding.
me -- what they can do with matzo balls is just ... amazing
9:30
me -- BREAKING NEWS
9:33
john -- He decided to change it to Eichmann's Final Cafe.
me -- lol
me -- stalin's sweets
me -- pol pot-sticker heaven
john -- Mussolini's Pizza
me -- lol
me -- delivered on time, of course
john -- Your life depends on it.
8.22.2006
the phrase i'm hearing a lot this morning
people who will "throw you under the bus" ...
i know what that means, but i wonder: why a bus? why not a car? or a truck? or off a bridge? what about a bus makes it the ideal thing to throw someone under?
i know what that means, but i wonder: why a bus? why not a car? or a truck? or off a bridge? what about a bus makes it the ideal thing to throw someone under?
what do i do with this?
i'm still interested in what goes on in chicago; i lived there for almost seven years, and the city is still infinitely fascinating. the political machinations, the social interactions, the crappy sports teams -- all of chicago makes for some interesting reading. the city's main news organs reach for rice-cake blandness in their writing, so i've found another source for the skinny on chicago: the beachwood reporter.
it's funny, insightful and generally anti-mayor daley, which i have to admit, reluctantly, is a good thing. the city is clean, it's run efficiently -- at least on the surface -- and it's about as nice a living experience as you're likely to find in a large city. but the man's ego and thirst for control knows no bounds ...
but i write this piece mainly because i came across this yesterday:
i couple this with something that a former coworker put on her blog, and that's been making its way across the "reality based internet" for a few days: what we conservative "wingnuts" see when we read the new york times.
***
it's getting harder and harder to read the internets lately ... i guess admitting the fact that several countries had what was thought to be rock-solid evidence about saddam and WMDs -- too hard to remember, or admit, or to write (even in pencil) into their little book of facts.
or allowing that the leading newspaper in america might have a small blind spot when it comes to owning up to its institutional biases -- they're insane, they're "wingnuts," they're obviously living in a fantasy world, etc.
it's pissing me off. people go too quickly to the knee-jerk response when a little thought would lead them, maybe, to realize how shallow and self-serving their cherished beliefs about the other side actually are.
no wonder the internet is polarizing -- you don't have to force yourself to listen to views that you think are wrong -- not even silly, or misinformed, but plain wrong. you can have your bookmarks set so that you never once venture into the land of the other side, so your little digital echo chamber is perfectly complete.
i am sorry for the rant, but this is really pissing me off this morning.
it's funny, insightful and generally anti-mayor daley, which i have to admit, reluctantly, is a good thing. the city is clean, it's run efficiently -- at least on the surface -- and it's about as nice a living experience as you're likely to find in a large city. but the man's ego and thirst for control knows no bounds ...
but i write this piece mainly because i came across this yesterday:
The problem with the conspiracy theorists is that they find a need to look past what's staring all of us in the face: Reams of reporting clearly shows that the Bush Administration fabricated an argument to take us to war in Iraq. If you don't believe this by now - no matter what your political affiliation - you simply aren't paying attention. (emphasis added)
i couple this with something that a former coworker put on her blog, and that's been making its way across the "reality based internet" for a few days: what we conservative "wingnuts" see when we read the new york times.
***
it's getting harder and harder to read the internets lately ... i guess admitting the fact that several countries had what was thought to be rock-solid evidence about saddam and WMDs -- too hard to remember, or admit, or to write (even in pencil) into their little book of facts.
or allowing that the leading newspaper in america might have a small blind spot when it comes to owning up to its institutional biases -- they're insane, they're "wingnuts," they're obviously living in a fantasy world, etc.
it's pissing me off. people go too quickly to the knee-jerk response when a little thought would lead them, maybe, to realize how shallow and self-serving their cherished beliefs about the other side actually are.
no wonder the internet is polarizing -- you don't have to force yourself to listen to views that you think are wrong -- not even silly, or misinformed, but plain wrong. you can have your bookmarks set so that you never once venture into the land of the other side, so your little digital echo chamber is perfectly complete.
i am sorry for the rant, but this is really pissing me off this morning.
8.21.2006
8.19.2006
inside jokes
so i was on planes for about five hours yesterday, and i had this shit-eating grin on my face the whole time.
why?
i kept fighting the urge to ask the flight attendant if there were any motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane.
***
take this wikipedia entry on the movie with a grain of colbert-esque truthiness, but the story is pretty simple: movie gets announced, blogger picks it up, internet makes it huge, studio makes it campy in response, and now "get these motherfucking (whatever) off this motherfucking (whatever)" is set to be the new "i'm rick james, bitch" ...
it's fun to be in on the private joke. i won't say that "snakes on a plane" is exactly private, but i will say that most people have only a vague idea that the movie even exists. and yet it's been something i've been looking forward to for months, especially after watching fark.com spread "SoAP" parties like kudzu. and you know that samuel l. jackson was in on this camp thing very, very early -- witness this customizable jackson message website, or especially this clip from "the daily show" ...
nobody is taking this seriously, and ... uh ... hasn't been (?) ... for a long time. and that's why a seven-hour travel day, involving two crappy flights on two crappy airlines, had me smiling all the way.
why?
i kept fighting the urge to ask the flight attendant if there were any motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane.
***
take this wikipedia entry on the movie with a grain of colbert-esque truthiness, but the story is pretty simple: movie gets announced, blogger picks it up, internet makes it huge, studio makes it campy in response, and now "get these motherfucking (whatever) off this motherfucking (whatever)" is set to be the new "i'm rick james, bitch" ...
it's fun to be in on the private joke. i won't say that "snakes on a plane" is exactly private, but i will say that most people have only a vague idea that the movie even exists. and yet it's been something i've been looking forward to for months, especially after watching fark.com spread "SoAP" parties like kudzu. and you know that samuel l. jackson was in on this camp thing very, very early -- witness this customizable jackson message website, or especially this clip from "the daily show" ...
nobody is taking this seriously, and ... uh ... hasn't been (?) ... for a long time. and that's why a seven-hour travel day, involving two crappy flights on two crappy airlines, had me smiling all the way.
8.16.2006
prepare the cabin for, like, landing
the flight crew on my early-as-hell flight out of mpls this morning helpfully informed me that the flight deck was manned by pilots derek and josh.
this was not reassuring.
i flew from MSP to charlotte, north carolina, where i felt like doing this after two hours of layover between flights ... charlotte's a nice airport, and the people are friendly -- one woman handed me a pack of cigarettes when i stepped off the plane, even.
lots of smoking down here, i noticed, especially after i took the little puddle-jumper to greenville, where my new job is headquartered. people were smoking in their cars. people were smoking on the sidewalk. expecting mothers were doing smokeless tobacco -- health reasons, you understand.
and after a day that started at 4:30 a.m. and had me starting a server upgrade at 7:30 p.m., it's now just turning 9 and i'm about to turn in. i am praying that the server patch i just applied actually stuck, and that the jet-engine whine of the Xserve G5 behind me is just an illusion.
pray for mojo.
this was not reassuring.
i flew from MSP to charlotte, north carolina, where i felt like doing this after two hours of layover between flights ... charlotte's a nice airport, and the people are friendly -- one woman handed me a pack of cigarettes when i stepped off the plane, even.
lots of smoking down here, i noticed, especially after i took the little puddle-jumper to greenville, where my new job is headquartered. people were smoking in their cars. people were smoking on the sidewalk. expecting mothers were doing smokeless tobacco -- health reasons, you understand.
and after a day that started at 4:30 a.m. and had me starting a server upgrade at 7:30 p.m., it's now just turning 9 and i'm about to turn in. i am praying that the server patch i just applied actually stuck, and that the jet-engine whine of the Xserve G5 behind me is just an illusion.
pray for mojo.
8.15.2006
in space, no one can hear you scream
but if you're stuck inside the genesis test moon ... apparently, it echoes throughout the universe.
(inspired by this)
8.13.2006
dear mr. fantasy
well, here it is -- my fantasy football roster after tonite's draft. you'll notice only two instances of homerism there ... i think willie parker will be a great addition for his screen-running abilities, and heath miller was the best of the TE's left over by the time i got around to picking one.
can't go wrong with brady, and i like plummer and javon walker. my RBs are a bit weak, and i'm not thrilled with my WRs as well.
8.03.2006
the terrace
the missus and i traveled to madison, wisconsin, earlier this week. and even though it was more than 100F outside -- before noon, nonetheless -- i braved the heat and humidity and got a shot of what is the iconic ... uh ... er ... icon ... of the mighty fighting badgers of the university of wisconsin.
7.26.2006
i (heart) frogs
did you know i have a private beach?
no, really! it runs the length of our property. of course, it does lead to a skanky drainage pond, but still ... it's mine and someday, given the insane prices for lakefront real estate in minnesota, people will be selling their grandmothers to get this prime piece of shore.
but today is not someday. today is, well, today, and the shore had been ignored all season. as nature is wont to do, it began to take back what man had claimed, by allowing all sorts of plants and green stuff to grow between the small pebbles. and since all of my neighbors here in suburban paradise have been diligent about policing the rampant growth ...
except me, and except for today.
i got me some kick-ass weed killer today, and even got serious about it by buying a pressure sprayer. i pulled all the weeds that had roots i could gather -- meaning, anything that isn't grass, because grass roots are just fucking tough -- and then sprayed within about five feet of the water, because i love the earth.
really.
well, there was one thicket of weeds that i could not get rid of, because as i pulled my first handful of roots out ... two frogs jumped out into the water. and i thought of those little frogs spending their lives homeless on the streets giving handjobs for crack.
so i left the frog neighborhood alone ... now the shoreline looks like st. louis -- barren nothingness for miles on end, and then, just when you're about to cross the border into someone else's area, a thick downtown ... that still smells like waste products.
you're welcome, frogs.
no, really! it runs the length of our property. of course, it does lead to a skanky drainage pond, but still ... it's mine and someday, given the insane prices for lakefront real estate in minnesota, people will be selling their grandmothers to get this prime piece of shore.
but today is not someday. today is, well, today, and the shore had been ignored all season. as nature is wont to do, it began to take back what man had claimed, by allowing all sorts of plants and green stuff to grow between the small pebbles. and since all of my neighbors here in suburban paradise have been diligent about policing the rampant growth ...
except me, and except for today.
i got me some kick-ass weed killer today, and even got serious about it by buying a pressure sprayer. i pulled all the weeds that had roots i could gather -- meaning, anything that isn't grass, because grass roots are just fucking tough -- and then sprayed within about five feet of the water, because i love the earth.
really.
well, there was one thicket of weeds that i could not get rid of, because as i pulled my first handful of roots out ... two frogs jumped out into the water. and i thought of those little frogs spending their lives homeless on the streets giving handjobs for crack.
so i left the frog neighborhood alone ... now the shoreline looks like st. louis -- barren nothingness for miles on end, and then, just when you're about to cross the border into someone else's area, a thick downtown ... that still smells like waste products.
you're welcome, frogs.
7.25.2006
mill city/guthrie theatre pictures
i was downtown last week and visited the mill city museum and the new guthrie theatre. some of my favorite shots ...
this is the mill museum reflected in the shiny blue side of the guthrie.
just some metal supports that are holding up the ancient mill structure.
and of course, shiny new fire hydrant valves.
this is the mill museum reflected in the shiny blue side of the guthrie.
just some metal supports that are holding up the ancient mill structure.
and of course, shiny new fire hydrant valves.
7.19.2006
7.18.2006
E-V-Oh-shut-up-already
There are very few areas of my life in which I've grown in talent ... sports? Nope. Guitar? Peaked at 22. Fashion? Come on -- were it not for my wife showing me what and how to dress, I'd still be wearing Members Only jackets.
But cooking -- ah, when it comes to food, I've only gotten better at preparing and serving it. I always tell people that I learned most of what I know from my mom, and that's true, to a point ... mom and grandma both were extremely handy in the kitchen, and I learned my ease and comfort from them.
Most of what I know how to make, though, has come to the fore in the past few years, and for that, I can only thank the Food Network. While other people watch MTV or CNN on lazy afternoons, I'm glued to the Food Network. And the first thing I ever made that I consider to be a resounding success was "mini meatball soup" from Rachael Ray. I knew it as Italian wedding soup, but she can call it what she wants -- it's a good recipe. It was so good that I think it's my wife's favorite meal I make. We even made it together on our honeymoon, it's that good.
That's what started my love affair with Ms. Ray. And she's only gotten more popular over the years -- 11 cookbooks (by my count), a few shows on Food Network, and even an Oprah-produced talk show coming up this fall. It's Rachael's world, and we're just cooking in it.
Which is why, I think, so many people hate her with a blind passion.
She is often annoying, especially with the "EVOO" thing she's popularized. It's extra virgin olive oil, and it doesn't hurt to say it all the way. She does use way too much of said oil, and at too high a temperature. And that hideous "garbage bowl" just makes me want to wash my hands repeatedly.
But why the haters? One suspects most of the anger comes from two areas: jealousy, and snobbery. The former is hard to prove, but I'm sure that an average cook with average looks getting a talk show from Oprah™ makes more than a few serious amateurs pretty green with jealousy. The latter, though, is more provable -- at least, it is to me, because almost all anti-Ray rants seem to contain two words that prove beyond a doubt that snobbery and foodie-ism fuels the rage:
Anthony Bourdain.
Bourdain is to Ray what Bill Cosby is to Larry the Cable Guy. What Charles Winchester is to Frank Burns. What Johnny Unitas is to (insert Bears' quarterback name here).
Bourdain is an effete food snob -- and I love his Travel Channel show. A good friend of mine is just a huge fan, and actually turned me on to him. He's fun to watch precisely because he's honest, he's direct, and he's not afraid to speak his mind.
One can be a fan of both -- it's not hard, actually, to enjoy Rachael for her easily accessible recipes, and also enjoy Bourdain for his excellent taste and finely tuned taste buds. Ray's recipes I find easy to modify for my own purposes, which gets me to thinking more about the ingredients I mix together, and how they might pair with side dishes, wines and desserts. Bourdain shows me places I've never known, and lets me see a side of cooking that makes me strive to be more professional and exotic when I have friends over for dinner.
Ray vs. Bourdain -- is this the Beatles-Stones argument of my generation?
But cooking -- ah, when it comes to food, I've only gotten better at preparing and serving it. I always tell people that I learned most of what I know from my mom, and that's true, to a point ... mom and grandma both were extremely handy in the kitchen, and I learned my ease and comfort from them.
Most of what I know how to make, though, has come to the fore in the past few years, and for that, I can only thank the Food Network. While other people watch MTV or CNN on lazy afternoons, I'm glued to the Food Network. And the first thing I ever made that I consider to be a resounding success was "mini meatball soup" from Rachael Ray. I knew it as Italian wedding soup, but she can call it what she wants -- it's a good recipe. It was so good that I think it's my wife's favorite meal I make. We even made it together on our honeymoon, it's that good.
That's what started my love affair with Ms. Ray. And she's only gotten more popular over the years -- 11 cookbooks (by my count), a few shows on Food Network, and even an Oprah-produced talk show coming up this fall. It's Rachael's world, and we're just cooking in it.
Which is why, I think, so many people hate her with a blind passion.
She is often annoying, especially with the "EVOO" thing she's popularized. It's extra virgin olive oil, and it doesn't hurt to say it all the way. She does use way too much of said oil, and at too high a temperature. And that hideous "garbage bowl" just makes me want to wash my hands repeatedly.
But why the haters? One suspects most of the anger comes from two areas: jealousy, and snobbery. The former is hard to prove, but I'm sure that an average cook with average looks getting a talk show from Oprah™ makes more than a few serious amateurs pretty green with jealousy. The latter, though, is more provable -- at least, it is to me, because almost all anti-Ray rants seem to contain two words that prove beyond a doubt that snobbery and foodie-ism fuels the rage:
Anthony Bourdain.
Bourdain is to Ray what Bill Cosby is to Larry the Cable Guy. What Charles Winchester is to Frank Burns. What Johnny Unitas is to (insert Bears' quarterback name here).
Bourdain is an effete food snob -- and I love his Travel Channel show. A good friend of mine is just a huge fan, and actually turned me on to him. He's fun to watch precisely because he's honest, he's direct, and he's not afraid to speak his mind.
One can be a fan of both -- it's not hard, actually, to enjoy Rachael for her easily accessible recipes, and also enjoy Bourdain for his excellent taste and finely tuned taste buds. Ray's recipes I find easy to modify for my own purposes, which gets me to thinking more about the ingredients I mix together, and how they might pair with side dishes, wines and desserts. Bourdain shows me places I've never known, and lets me see a side of cooking that makes me strive to be more professional and exotic when I have friends over for dinner.
Ray vs. Bourdain -- is this the Beatles-Stones argument of my generation?
7.11.2006
my beloved pirates
i've pretty much given up on my beloved pittsburgh pirates.
if you follow baseball, you can pretty much stop reading right now -- you know the story. fourteen consecutive losing seasons. the rule five draft debacle. no bottled water allowed. chris shelton. bronson arroyo. jason schmidt. and there's more that i can't bring myself to remember right now.
when i was working at the wheeling news-register back in the mid '90s, the family that owns the paper -- headed by g. ogden nutting -- bought into the ownership team that was purchasing the pittsburgh pirates. the head of the team, kevin mcclatchy, was an old newspaper-empire friend of the nutting family, which i think explains why the nuttings were brought in.
at the time, i remember thinking that good things were not in the pirates' future, because i saw how the parent corporation was run. but at the time, remember, the nuttings held just a small part of the team -- mcclatchy was the face and the money running the show. but over time, the nuttings were offered more and more control, and made the appropriate investments -- by 2003, i think, the nuttings were the real force behind the team.
i won't go into the wretched history of this team since sid bream broke all our hearts ... i write this because a thread on honest wagner (one of the best pirates-focused sites on the Internet Tubes) brought me to rant ... or as much as i do rant ... about ownership of my beloved pirates.
bones, one of the proprietors of the site, asked a question: are the nuttings evil, or just greedy?
my response ...
***
hmmm.
greedy or evil ... it's a tough call. i really think it depends on your definition of "evil," and whether you think the nuttings have any evil intent with their actions.
EVIL
i know them from the journalism side of their "empire," and it definitely was demoralizing in the newsroom when we realized that making money, not reporting the news, was the primary goal for the papers.
what made it more demoralizing: none of us knew exactly how much was being made -- we all knew the fourth floor (executive suites) were rolling in it, but we had no idea how much. we also didn't know what sort of budget we had to go out and do our jobs, and we were constantly looking for ways to stretch dollars.
sounds familiar, doesn't it?
the list of things we couldn't say in the paper could fill a stylebook. ogden's other interests were so numerous, and he used his papers to slant coverage in his favor, meant that some things were verboten -- like yellow pages. or riverboat gaming -- never gambling, just gaming, as if we were softening it up a bit for the little old ladies who read the paper after going to morning mass.
and is that "evil," or is that just greedy and/or stupid?
INTENT
when i was 24, i'd have voted "evil" over and over. now that i'm older and, allegedly, wiser, i'd soften my judgment a bit -- not because of any facts at hand, but because it certainly seems to me that the nuttings really don't care enough to be evil.
making money on mediocre newspapers? to them, that's no different than making money on mediocre baseball teams ... or ski resorts ... or the utne reader ... or awkwardly named telephone directories ...
if there's a buck to be made, they'll make it. if that buck can be doubled by reducing the quality to the lowest the public will still pay for ... well, that's two bucks made, and that is the definition of a good investment.
if the nuttings seemed to give a damn about what businesses they were running, then i'd say "evil" a hundred times over.
but is apathy evil? that's a good question.
if you follow baseball, you can pretty much stop reading right now -- you know the story. fourteen consecutive losing seasons. the rule five draft debacle. no bottled water allowed. chris shelton. bronson arroyo. jason schmidt. and there's more that i can't bring myself to remember right now.
when i was working at the wheeling news-register back in the mid '90s, the family that owns the paper -- headed by g. ogden nutting -- bought into the ownership team that was purchasing the pittsburgh pirates. the head of the team, kevin mcclatchy, was an old newspaper-empire friend of the nutting family, which i think explains why the nuttings were brought in.
at the time, i remember thinking that good things were not in the pirates' future, because i saw how the parent corporation was run. but at the time, remember, the nuttings held just a small part of the team -- mcclatchy was the face and the money running the show. but over time, the nuttings were offered more and more control, and made the appropriate investments -- by 2003, i think, the nuttings were the real force behind the team.
i won't go into the wretched history of this team since sid bream broke all our hearts ... i write this because a thread on honest wagner (one of the best pirates-focused sites on the Internet Tubes) brought me to rant ... or as much as i do rant ... about ownership of my beloved pirates.
bones, one of the proprietors of the site, asked a question: are the nuttings evil, or just greedy?
my response ...
***
hmmm.
greedy or evil ... it's a tough call. i really think it depends on your definition of "evil," and whether you think the nuttings have any evil intent with their actions.
EVIL
i know them from the journalism side of their "empire," and it definitely was demoralizing in the newsroom when we realized that making money, not reporting the news, was the primary goal for the papers.
what made it more demoralizing: none of us knew exactly how much was being made -- we all knew the fourth floor (executive suites) were rolling in it, but we had no idea how much. we also didn't know what sort of budget we had to go out and do our jobs, and we were constantly looking for ways to stretch dollars.
sounds familiar, doesn't it?
the list of things we couldn't say in the paper could fill a stylebook. ogden's other interests were so numerous, and he used his papers to slant coverage in his favor, meant that some things were verboten -- like yellow pages. or riverboat gaming -- never gambling, just gaming, as if we were softening it up a bit for the little old ladies who read the paper after going to morning mass.
and is that "evil," or is that just greedy and/or stupid?
INTENT
when i was 24, i'd have voted "evil" over and over. now that i'm older and, allegedly, wiser, i'd soften my judgment a bit -- not because of any facts at hand, but because it certainly seems to me that the nuttings really don't care enough to be evil.
making money on mediocre newspapers? to them, that's no different than making money on mediocre baseball teams ... or ski resorts ... or the utne reader ... or awkwardly named telephone directories ...
if there's a buck to be made, they'll make it. if that buck can be doubled by reducing the quality to the lowest the public will still pay for ... well, that's two bucks made, and that is the definition of a good investment.
if the nuttings seemed to give a damn about what businesses they were running, then i'd say "evil" a hundred times over.
but is apathy evil? that's a good question.
7.10.2006
even the morning TV gods like my car
i've been obsessed with a car lately -- for the past year or so, in fact.
we'll be driving down the road and i'll tell the missus "now look at that one ... tell me that isn't cute?"
she'll respond by laughing, or sticking her tongue down her throat, or insulting my sense of style. "why don't you go buy one of those ugly-ass pontiacs while you're at it?" she'll sneer, and i'll just sit there and fume.
i think i know cool. it's just that my defintion of cool isn't necessarily anyone else's ... like my parents'. or her parents'. or her friends'. or most likely my friends' as well.
i might be alone on this, but for my money, the honda element is a really neat vehicle. it's got nice lines, it's incredibly useful in a whole number of ways, and it's a great dog vehicle.
when the missus and i were looking to replace her company car last year with one of our own, we test drove tons of vehicles. the one that intrigued us the most was the land rover discovery, so of course we jumped at the chance to drive one around the twin cities highways. and you know what? we discovered that it handled like a tank, rode like a tank, and sipped gasoline like a tank.
we crossed that off our list.
and now i was told that on saturday we could test drive the element.
i liked it. i loved it. it rode smooth, it handled well, and it felt like being in an SUV, but without the hideous gas mileage on the highway (20/24). even the missus said it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be.
on sunday, while we were out running errands, we came across an element with a peace sign on the back, parked in front of the store we were headed to ... and its owner was walking toward it. so we stopped the man and asked if we could ask him about his car.
it was tim sherno, formerly of fox 9 news!
what a nice guy. spent about 10 minutes talking with us about his car. his advice? "don't think about it -- just buy it."
i'm trying to get the missus to agree.
we'll be driving down the road and i'll tell the missus "now look at that one ... tell me that isn't cute?"
she'll respond by laughing, or sticking her tongue down her throat, or insulting my sense of style. "why don't you go buy one of those ugly-ass pontiacs while you're at it?" she'll sneer, and i'll just sit there and fume.
i think i know cool. it's just that my defintion of cool isn't necessarily anyone else's ... like my parents'. or her parents'. or her friends'. or most likely my friends' as well.
i might be alone on this, but for my money, the honda element is a really neat vehicle. it's got nice lines, it's incredibly useful in a whole number of ways, and it's a great dog vehicle.
when the missus and i were looking to replace her company car last year with one of our own, we test drove tons of vehicles. the one that intrigued us the most was the land rover discovery, so of course we jumped at the chance to drive one around the twin cities highways. and you know what? we discovered that it handled like a tank, rode like a tank, and sipped gasoline like a tank.
we crossed that off our list.
and now i was told that on saturday we could test drive the element.
i liked it. i loved it. it rode smooth, it handled well, and it felt like being in an SUV, but without the hideous gas mileage on the highway (20/24). even the missus said it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be.
on sunday, while we were out running errands, we came across an element with a peace sign on the back, parked in front of the store we were headed to ... and its owner was walking toward it. so we stopped the man and asked if we could ask him about his car.
it was tim sherno, formerly of fox 9 news!
what a nice guy. spent about 10 minutes talking with us about his car. his advice? "don't think about it -- just buy it."
i'm trying to get the missus to agree.
7.08.2006
"his brain is gone!" (dramatic chord)
so in my never-ending quest to find good TV shows to watch in the few hours of downtime i've had since i left my previous employer, i search directv for some tivo-able entertainment. and i've stumbled across star trek 2.0 -- kind of like pop-up video, but far busier and more filled with interesting factoids about the episode.
it's interesting, because i distinctly remember times during my childhood when we'd watch "star trek" over dinner on a little 12-inch black and white TV in the kitchen. my dad was a huge fan -- he might still be, for all i know. (if the history channel aired "star trek" he'd know every word to every episode.) and i was eager for "the next generation" when it first came out, but i quickly bored of it -- i was learning that, post-pre-adolescence, i wasn't much of a sci-fi fan.
but it's fun to revisit these original shows, because a few things stick out:
everyone speaks english -- with an american accent, no less -- in space
william shatner is canadian ... "to seek out new life, new civil-I-zations ..."
all the women are hot, in a late-1960s way
the dialog is just horrible.
i mean, take this episode. a beautiful alien beams aboard and smiles at everyone. then, suddenly, she knocks everyone unconscious (suspiciously using the same weird sound that other aliens use when they do evil things themselves). when everyone wakes up, dr. mccoy discovers that spock has been put on a table in sick bay, where he's wearing a gold hairnet.
mccoy tells kirk that the alien took spock's brain!
his brain! i mean, come on ... take his spirit. take his eyebrows. but his brain? that reminds me of the famous troy mcclure movie "the president's neck is missing" it's so comically bad. just bad bad bad.
and yet, still i watch.
it's interesting, because i distinctly remember times during my childhood when we'd watch "star trek" over dinner on a little 12-inch black and white TV in the kitchen. my dad was a huge fan -- he might still be, for all i know. (if the history channel aired "star trek" he'd know every word to every episode.) and i was eager for "the next generation" when it first came out, but i quickly bored of it -- i was learning that, post-pre-adolescence, i wasn't much of a sci-fi fan.
but it's fun to revisit these original shows, because a few things stick out:
i mean, take this episode. a beautiful alien beams aboard and smiles at everyone. then, suddenly, she knocks everyone unconscious (suspiciously using the same weird sound that other aliens use when they do evil things themselves). when everyone wakes up, dr. mccoy discovers that spock has been put on a table in sick bay, where he's wearing a gold hairnet.
mccoy tells kirk that the alien took spock's brain!
his brain! i mean, come on ... take his spirit. take his eyebrows. but his brain? that reminds me of the famous troy mcclure movie "the president's neck is missing" it's so comically bad. just bad bad bad.
and yet, still i watch.
7.06.2006
gangly teenage dog
trotter had some matts (i'm not sure if i spelled that correctly, but who cares -- i'm unemployed) around his buttal area. we took him to a little groomer in tonka bay, and the verdict: total shave, because the matts were so close to the skin that to get under them would be impossible without turning my dog brazilian.
i laughed and laughed when i saw him, and i think i offended the groomers. i laughed only because he was so huge and it was all hair! underneath it all he's just a gangly teenage boy.
i laughed and laughed when i saw him, and i think i offended the groomers. i laughed only because he was so huge and it was all hair! underneath it all he's just a gangly teenage boy.
7.04.2006
das weekend
mom and dad came in this weekend; it's been two years since dad was here, and mom was here in early june of last year. and since the only way i know how to entertain is to feed people.
the best part of this was the croissants -- ordered from the williams-sonoma catalog. they are as good as any we had in gay paree last fall, and we don't have to surround ourselves with dirty frenchmen to enjoy them.
jenette's family came over. lauren, as always, was a big hit.
it was mom and dad's 35th anniversary on sunday, and my in-laws' 40th earlier in the week, so we celebrated at the finest italian restaurant known to man: maggiano's little italy, which was a staple of my parents' visits to chicago way back when.
of course, fatty got some welcome relaxation on the couch monday afternoon, because it's hard out here for a cat.
a whole bunch of stuff happened, and then last night, we saw the fireworks.
this was taken right after we'd downed a whole pitcher of orange juice laced with LSD. i was yelling like samuel l. jackson in his "samuel jackson" commercial on chappelle's show.
"it'll get you drunk!"
the best part of this was the croissants -- ordered from the williams-sonoma catalog. they are as good as any we had in gay paree last fall, and we don't have to surround ourselves with dirty frenchmen to enjoy them.
jenette's family came over. lauren, as always, was a big hit.
it was mom and dad's 35th anniversary on sunday, and my in-laws' 40th earlier in the week, so we celebrated at the finest italian restaurant known to man: maggiano's little italy, which was a staple of my parents' visits to chicago way back when.
of course, fatty got some welcome relaxation on the couch monday afternoon, because it's hard out here for a cat.
a whole bunch of stuff happened, and then last night, we saw the fireworks.
this was taken right after we'd downed a whole pitcher of orange juice laced with LSD. i was yelling like samuel l. jackson in his "samuel jackson" commercial on chappelle's show.
"it'll get you drunk!"
7.02.2006
got my ass t.p.'d last night
mom and dad are up for a weekend visit, and mysteriously we wake up to a front yard filled with t.p. ... it's just such a coincidence.
i'm sure it was some dumbass teenagers who got the house number wrong. or trotter has made some enemies in the neighborhood ...
7.01.2006
gregg allman does look a little menopausal, i guess
anyone care to tell me why commercials for menopause awareness use this classic allman bros. song?
6.30.2006
babies are cute, but not as cute as cool software
I had the good fortune to work with Adam Pratt of Adobe during my time at The Company That Shall Remain Nameless. My team was tasked with ... well, it's hard to say what we were "tasked with," because (1) that phrase makes my teeth hurt, and (2) management changed its mind as often as I change my underwear -- that is, once a week ...
Adam told us he had the month of June pretty much off. Why? I can't think of a better reason.
But what prompts me to write this is the really cool software he used to create this gallery. It's called PostcardViewer, and it looks as though it requires you to run your own web server to make it work. (Stupid blogger!) It's a great way to show off the images. And couple that with the Lensbaby he used ... it looks like the most awesome way to take shots of little ones' little parts.
Anyway. Just wanted to show off that I know someone at Adobe. Why not? I'm still unemployed. :)
Adam told us he had the month of June pretty much off. Why? I can't think of a better reason.
But what prompts me to write this is the really cool software he used to create this gallery. It's called PostcardViewer, and it looks as though it requires you to run your own web server to make it work. (Stupid blogger!) It's a great way to show off the images. And couple that with the Lensbaby he used ... it looks like the most awesome way to take shots of little ones' little parts.
Anyway. Just wanted to show off that I know someone at Adobe. Why not? I'm still unemployed. :)
flush
well, the slow-moving father-in-law front passed through chanhassen yesterday. the result? a new toilet. i fixed it once before, last year, but the leaks started returning a few weeks ago.
we eventually replaced the toilet and tank completely -- not exactly the route i wanted to go, but the bowl had a crack in it -- and unlike my ass, a crack here is a bad thing.
so now i'm the proud owner of a new toilet, and it only necessitated one trip to home depot. i'm getting better at this stuff.
i think.
we eventually replaced the toilet and tank completely -- not exactly the route i wanted to go, but the bowl had a crack in it -- and unlike my ass, a crack here is a bad thing.
so now i'm the proud owner of a new toilet, and it only necessitated one trip to home depot. i'm getting better at this stuff.
i think.
6.27.2006
site-related notes
i'm messing with the template, almost hourly, in an attempt to get something aesthetically pleasing without knowing jack about ... well, about just about everything in web design.
oh, i was OK in 1996. in fact, i was pretty good, because i was chasing around this intern we had at the paper. she was our HTML expert and around her, i was like a moth at a flame. a well-built, ponytail-wearing, gum-popping flame who had no earthly idea what i was after ... or did, and knew i had no chance, but enjoyed the attention anyway.
but now it's 2006, and i've not picked up anything in the past 10 years besides "target=_blank" (which, come to think of it, is pretty accurate for me lately). so i'm messing with the blogger-provided template, and as i attempt to learn CSS better, i've at least figured out how to change fonts.
so if you're on OS X, and especially on Tiger, you'll see better fonts -- if you've got the default OS fonts installed. if you don't, then you'll get arial and like it. if you've got futura and american typewriter, though, i think it should look better.
not good, but better.
oh, i was OK in 1996. in fact, i was pretty good, because i was chasing around this intern we had at the paper. she was our HTML expert and around her, i was like a moth at a flame. a well-built, ponytail-wearing, gum-popping flame who had no earthly idea what i was after ... or did, and knew i had no chance, but enjoyed the attention anyway.
but now it's 2006, and i've not picked up anything in the past 10 years besides "target=_blank" (which, come to think of it, is pretty accurate for me lately). so i'm messing with the blogger-provided template, and as i attempt to learn CSS better, i've at least figured out how to change fonts.
so if you're on OS X, and especially on Tiger, you'll see better fonts -- if you've got the default OS fonts installed. if you don't, then you'll get arial and like it. if you've got futura and american typewriter, though, i think it should look better.
not good, but better.
20 human months = 10 dog months
As proof of this mathematical fact, I give you:
Trotter learned to do that two months ago.
:)
Trotter learned to do that two months ago.
:)
slices of life
6.23.2006
erik is on drugs
The Twin Cities' favorite bike shop, Erik's Bike Shop, might be so because it has the trippiest commercials ever on TV. I mean, it's like they're all stoned when they make those things.
Bike riders are usually hippies. They have those hemp backpacks and organic water bottles and low-impact soy tires and helmets made out of recycled cardboard boxes. You know the type.
See, when I take a bike ride, as I did this morning, I go out of my way to run over helpless nature creatures, and I try to find some minorities to oppress. Though we don't normally allow those types of people in my part of Carver County anyway.
I love Erik's, though, because their checkout system is based on FileMaker Pro and run on Macs ... at least, it was the last time I was there.
Good for Erik's -- the stoned Mac-loving bike hippies of greater central Minnesota.
Bike riders are usually hippies. They have those hemp backpacks and organic water bottles and low-impact soy tires and helmets made out of recycled cardboard boxes. You know the type.
See, when I take a bike ride, as I did this morning, I go out of my way to run over helpless nature creatures, and I try to find some minorities to oppress. Though we don't normally allow those types of people in my part of Carver County anyway.
I love Erik's, though, because their checkout system is based on FileMaker Pro and run on Macs ... at least, it was the last time I was there.
Good for Erik's -- the stoned Mac-loving bike hippies of greater central Minnesota.
6.22.2006
Look at you, you were once so proud ... Feel the wrath of the left hand of Burns!
Don't ask me why I'm thinking of this episode this morning.
Maybe it's because "The Simpsons" relates to everything.
Maybe it's because you could replace "Flanders" with my name and the title of that episode might be apt.
Or maybe it's because things are different now, and I feel as though I finally can write here again.
So I used to work for an unnamed local retailer ... I'd like not to name them, but if you have a mental image of a large red circle, with a smaller red circle inside it, then I'd say you're on target.
I was afraid to write anything on this site about them, because they don't take to dissent very well, and it was all I wanted to talk about. I decided it was better to just shut up about everything. But of course I couldn't keep totally quiet, though it was more a way to express the funny things that happen in a large company.
Now I'm free. And as the ultra-conservative rock band The Who once said, freedom tastes of reality.
Meaning, I have no job. I have a ton of stuff to do around the house. And it's the first time that my lovely wife and I will be in the house ... together ... all the time.
Pray for mojo.
Maybe it's because "The Simpsons" relates to everything.
Maybe it's because you could replace "Flanders" with my name and the title of that episode might be apt.
Or maybe it's because things are different now, and I feel as though I finally can write here again.
So I used to work for an unnamed local retailer ... I'd like not to name them, but if you have a mental image of a large red circle, with a smaller red circle inside it, then I'd say you're on target.
I was afraid to write anything on this site about them, because they don't take to dissent very well, and it was all I wanted to talk about. I decided it was better to just shut up about everything. But of course I couldn't keep totally quiet, though it was more a way to express the funny things that happen in a large company.
Now I'm free. And as the ultra-conservative rock band The Who once said, freedom tastes of reality.
Meaning, I have no job. I have a ton of stuff to do around the house. And it's the first time that my lovely wife and I will be in the house ... together ... all the time.
Pray for mojo.
2.08.2006
2.06.2006
1.24.2006
Top Ten Tyrone Carter Facts
so i stole this, basically, from this hot internet site, and changed it slightly, as i truly believe -- as do the good folks at heelssoxsteelers -- that tyrone carter is the meanest sum'bitch in the steelers' locker room.
Tyrone Carter's tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried. Ever.
Tyrone Carter does not sleep. He waits.
Tyrone Carter is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.
The chief export of Tyrone Carter is pain.
If you can see Tyrone Carter, he can see you. If you can't see Tyrone Carter, you may be only seconds away from death.
Tyrone Carter has counted to infinity. Twice.
Tyrone Carter does not hunt because the word hunting implies
the probability of failure. Tyrone Carter goes killing.
Tyrone Carter's blood type is AK+. Ass-Kicking Positive. It is compatible only with heavy construction equipment, tanks, and fighter jets.
Tyrone Carter is 1/8th Cherokee. This has nothing to do with ancestry, the man ate a fucking Indian.
In fine print on the last page of the Guinness Book of World Records it notes that all world records are held by Tyrone Carter, and those listed in the book are simply the closest anyone else has ever gotten.
There is no chin behind Tyrone Carter's beard. There is only another fist.
Tyrone Carter once roundhouse kicked someone so hard that his foot broke the speed of light, went back in time, and killed Amelia Earhart while she was flying over the Pacific Ocean.
Crop circles are Tyrone Carter's way of telling the world that sometimes corn needs to lie the fuck down.
Tyrone Carter is ten feet tall, weighs two-tons, breathes fire, and could eat a hammer and take a shotgun blast standing.
The Great Wall of China was originally created to keep Tyrone Carter out. It failed miserably.
Contrary to popular belief, Tyrone Carter, not the box jellyfish of northern Australia, is the most venomous creature on earth. Within 3 minutes of being bitten, a human being experiences the following symptoms: fever, blurred vision, beard rash, tightness of the jeans, and the feeling of being repeatedly kicked through a car windshield.
Most people have 23 pairs of chromosomes. Tyrone Carter has 72... and they're all poisonous.
If you ask Tyrone Carter what time it is, he always says, "Two seconds 'til." After you ask, "Two seconds 'til what?" he roundhouse kicks you in the face.
Tyrone Carter drives an ice cream truck covered in human skulls.
When Tyrone Carter sends in his taxes, he sends blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. Tyrone Carter has not had to pay taxes, ever.
The quickest way to a man's heart is with Tyrone Carter's fist.
Tyrone Carter invented Kentucky Fried Chicken's famous secret recipe, with eleven herbs and spices. But nobody ever mentions the twelfth ingredient: Fear.
Tyrone Carter can win a game of Connect Four in only three moves.
There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures Tyrone Carter allows to live.
Tyrone Carter once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.
What was going through the minds of all of Tyrone Carter's victims
before they died? His shoe.
Tyrone Carter is the only man to ever defeat a brick wall in a game of tennis.
Police label anyone attacking Tyrone Carter as a Code 45-11.... a suicide.
Tyrone Carter doesn't churn butter. He roundhouse kicks the cows and the butter comes straight out.
Tyrone Carter doesn’t wash his clothes, he disembowels them.
A Handicapped parking sign does not signify that this spot is for handicapped people. It is actually in fact a warning, that the spot belongs to Tyrone Carter and that you will be handicapped if you park there.
Tyrone Carter will attain statehood in 2009. His state flower will be the Magnolia.
Someone once videotaped Tyrone Carter getting pissed off. It was called Walker: Texas Chain Saw Masacre.
If you spell Tyrone Carter in Scrabble, you win. Forever.
Tyrone Carter originally appeared in the "Street Fighter II" video game, but was removed by Beta Testers because every button caused him to do a roundhouse kick. When asked bout this "glitch," Walker replied, "That's no glitch."
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool Tyrone Carter once and he will fuck you up.
The opening scene of the movie "Saving Private Ryan" is loosely based on games of dodgeball Tyrone Carter played in second grade.
Tyrone Carter once shot down a German fighter plane with his finger, by yelling, "Bang!"
Tyrone Carter once bet NASA he could survive re-entry without a spacesuit. On July 19th, 1999, a naked Tyrone Carter re-entered the earth's atmosphere, streaking over 14 states and reaching a temperature of 3000 degrees. An embarrassed NASA publically claimed it was a meteor, and still owes him a beer.
Tyrone Carter has two speeds: Walk and Kill.
Someone once tried to tell Tyrone Carter that roundhouse kicks aren't the best way to kick someone. This has been recorded by historians as the worst mistake anyone has ever made.
Contrary to popular belief, America is not a democracy, it is a Chucktatorship.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is based on a true story: Tyrone Carter once swallowed a turtle whole, and when he crapped it out, the turtle was six feet tall and had learned karate.
Tyrone Carter is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Tyrone Carter.
Faster than a speeding bullet ... more powerful than a locomotive ... able to leap tall buildings in a single bound... yes, these are some of Tyrone Carter'ss warm-up exercises.
Tyrone Carter is the only human being to display the Heisenberg uncertainty principle -- you can never know both exactly where and how quickly he will roundhouse-kick you in the face.
In the Bible, Jesus turned water into wine. But then Tyrone Carter turned that wine into beer.
Tyrone Carter can hit you so hard that he can actually alter your DNA. Decades from now your descendants will occasionally clutch their heads and yell "What The Fuck was That?"
Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Tyrone Carter.
Tyrone Carter discovered a new theory of relativity involving multiple universes in which Tyrone Carter is even more badass than in this one. When it was discovered by Albert Einstein and made public, Tyrone Carter roundhouse-kicked him in the face. We know Albert Einstein today as Stephen Hawking.
Tyrone Carter doesn't shower, he only takes blood baths.
The Tyrone Carter military unit was not used in the game Civilization 4, because a single Tyrone Carter could defeat the entire combined nations of the world in one turn.
In an average living room there are 1,242 objects Tyrone Carter could use to kill you, including the room itself.
the probability of failure. Tyrone Carter goes killing.
before they died? His shoe.
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