I recently purchased the new Bruce Springsteen CD entitled "Devils and Dust." I am a Springsteen fan, so this isn't a big surprise. I won't bore you with a track by track review, but I do want to mention a big problem with the disc...
IT WON'T WORK IN MY CAR...ON MY WORK COMPUTER...OR IN MY CD PLAYER.
Oh yeah, you read that right. This CD has the new DualDisc technology, which, for those of you who aren't in the know, means one side of the disc has the CD, and the other side is a DVD which has videos and bonus stuff. It's a good idea...in theory.
Well, the good idea ends there, because I couldn't get the disc to play on anything except my home computer and our laptop. So, I had to burn the CD onto the hard-drive and make a CD from the hard drive, just so I can enjoy the CD at work and in the car.
What a pain in the behind!!
I understand that CD sales are down, and the CD companies feel they need to give you more so you will buy...but honestly, this makes me want to NOT buy Dual Discs and instead make a copy off the internet which is WRONG. I have always perfered the real deal, because I like the artwork, and the satisfaction in having a real copy. But if the real thing doesn't work...
Then what?
People are going to stop buying altogether. I don't think that's what the industry wants. Wake up and fix these crap CD's...before it's too late!!
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Why Do You Suck, Detroit Fans? (No, Not All Of Them)
Unless you have been hiding under a rock, you have heard about the Mallice at the Palace...the brawl between the Indiana Pacers and the Detroit Pistons at the Piston's basketball arena, the Palace at Auburn Hills. If not, read all about it here:
Mallice at the Palace
Well, the story doesn't end there. The first meeting between the two teams after this incedent took place at Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis. The game went without a hitch, and everyone finally thought this ugly tale was behind us.
Wrong.
On March 25th, the Pacers returned for the first time to the Palace since the Brawl. They were met with not 1...not 2...not 3...but 4 BOMB THREATS!! The game was postponed for well over an hour to take care of all necessary precautions.
What the hell Detroit fans? Are you kidding me?
The latest episode with the fans happened in the second game of the NBA playoffs between Detroit and the Philadelphia 76ers. Detroit easily defeated Philly in game one, and were well on their way in game two when Detroits fans struck again. This time on Philly's team Captain, Allen Iverson.
With 2 minutes left in the game, a fan hit Iverson with a quarter thrown from the stands. Before you say, it's just a quarter, put one of those bad boys close to your eye and think about the damage a quarter could do if it were to happen to hit you in said eye from a distance. It would mess you up. Of course, it didn't hit Iverson in the eye, but it could have.
The big question here is, Why do Detroit fans suck so bad? Not all of them, but a portion of them. Let's forget about the stupidity of Ron Artest for a second, and let's forget about the arrogance that Iverson displays sometimes...and let's focus on the truth...
Objects are being thrown from the stands.
This is more stupid than Artest going into the stands...it's more arrogant than Iverson on his most arrogant day...
You might say these men are professionals and get paid a lot of money to endure the fans. Nobody makes enough money to be pelted with beer or quarters.
How about the guy in Boston who took a swipe at Gary Sheffield in center field of the Yankees/Red Sox game the other day? The guy took a swipe and hit Sheffield in the mouth...Sheff didn't go into the crowd, but he could have. He could have grabbed that guy and pulled him onto the field and beat the piss out of him, and I think he would have been justified. Does Sheffield make enough money that he should endure being hit in the mouth while doing his job?
No.
I'm tired of hearing the media report these incidents with the emphasis on the player's reactions.
"Sheffield Will Not Be Punished For Reaction."
"Artest To Be Suspended For Season."
"Iverson Reacts How Artest Should Have."
BS. I've played a lot of sports and have had spectators in the stands. Heckling? Fine. Throwing objects? Not fine. Can you imagine basketball or baseball or football with no fans? Or with plexiglass seperating the players and fans like a hockey match? The way things are heading, it will be a reality soon. I can't imagine going to see a basketball game from behind glass. It just isn't right that some fans are ruining it for all the rest of us.
Detroit fans, I'm talking to you.
And the Yankee fans...and the New York Giants fans who pelted San Diego equipment manager Sid Brooks with an ice laced snowball, knocking him unconscious...and the countless other times objects and fans made their way onto the field.
The fans need to grow up...the stadiums need to not worry so much about profits on alcohol sales and more about the players and fans well-being...and the players, well, they need to not worry about being attacked.
Now, tell me how the players can be at fault, when they have to fear for their safety?
Mallice at the Palace
Well, the story doesn't end there. The first meeting between the two teams after this incedent took place at Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis. The game went without a hitch, and everyone finally thought this ugly tale was behind us.
Wrong.
On March 25th, the Pacers returned for the first time to the Palace since the Brawl. They were met with not 1...not 2...not 3...but 4 BOMB THREATS!! The game was postponed for well over an hour to take care of all necessary precautions.
What the hell Detroit fans? Are you kidding me?
The latest episode with the fans happened in the second game of the NBA playoffs between Detroit and the Philadelphia 76ers. Detroit easily defeated Philly in game one, and were well on their way in game two when Detroits fans struck again. This time on Philly's team Captain, Allen Iverson.
With 2 minutes left in the game, a fan hit Iverson with a quarter thrown from the stands. Before you say, it's just a quarter, put one of those bad boys close to your eye and think about the damage a quarter could do if it were to happen to hit you in said eye from a distance. It would mess you up. Of course, it didn't hit Iverson in the eye, but it could have.
The big question here is, Why do Detroit fans suck so bad? Not all of them, but a portion of them. Let's forget about the stupidity of Ron Artest for a second, and let's forget about the arrogance that Iverson displays sometimes...and let's focus on the truth...
Objects are being thrown from the stands.
This is more stupid than Artest going into the stands...it's more arrogant than Iverson on his most arrogant day...
You might say these men are professionals and get paid a lot of money to endure the fans. Nobody makes enough money to be pelted with beer or quarters.
How about the guy in Boston who took a swipe at Gary Sheffield in center field of the Yankees/Red Sox game the other day? The guy took a swipe and hit Sheffield in the mouth...Sheff didn't go into the crowd, but he could have. He could have grabbed that guy and pulled him onto the field and beat the piss out of him, and I think he would have been justified. Does Sheffield make enough money that he should endure being hit in the mouth while doing his job?
No.
I'm tired of hearing the media report these incidents with the emphasis on the player's reactions.
"Sheffield Will Not Be Punished For Reaction."
"Artest To Be Suspended For Season."
"Iverson Reacts How Artest Should Have."
BS. I've played a lot of sports and have had spectators in the stands. Heckling? Fine. Throwing objects? Not fine. Can you imagine basketball or baseball or football with no fans? Or with plexiglass seperating the players and fans like a hockey match? The way things are heading, it will be a reality soon. I can't imagine going to see a basketball game from behind glass. It just isn't right that some fans are ruining it for all the rest of us.
Detroit fans, I'm talking to you.
And the Yankee fans...and the New York Giants fans who pelted San Diego equipment manager Sid Brooks with an ice laced snowball, knocking him unconscious...and the countless other times objects and fans made their way onto the field.
The fans need to grow up...the stadiums need to not worry so much about profits on alcohol sales and more about the players and fans well-being...and the players, well, they need to not worry about being attacked.
Now, tell me how the players can be at fault, when they have to fear for their safety?
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
It's All The Rage!!
I'm a big supporter of the Lance Armstrong, LiveStrong bracelets that are out there to support Cancer research. I proudly wear one on each wrist, one for my Uncle who beat cancer, and one in rememberence of my grandfather, who passed away with the diesease.
It's unfortunate that this fad has gone as far as it has. I love seeing others with the yellow band on. Becky has a pink one for Breast Cancer...all proceeds go to Breast Cancer research (from Target). But, now you see red, blue, black, rainbow, purple, etc, etc etc...they all mean something, but they can be picked up at gas stations. Do you think they forward the money to AIDS research, to Tsunami victims, or to the other causes? Probably, sadly, no.
There was one I saw today that I think crosses the line...
Beat Bullying
"BEAT" Bullying?!? Beat it? Wow, I think that's the wrong message to get across.
"Mommy, I'm being bullied at school!"
"Here, Timmy, don't beat the bully with your fists, beat them with this bracelet!"
"Thanks mom!! I'll put a big rock in it and crush that mo'fo's head!!"
Wow, wrong message!! At least the bracelet isn't pink!
It's unfortunate that this fad has gone as far as it has. I love seeing others with the yellow band on. Becky has a pink one for Breast Cancer...all proceeds go to Breast Cancer research (from Target). But, now you see red, blue, black, rainbow, purple, etc, etc etc...they all mean something, but they can be picked up at gas stations. Do you think they forward the money to AIDS research, to Tsunami victims, or to the other causes? Probably, sadly, no.
There was one I saw today that I think crosses the line...
Beat Bullying"BEAT" Bullying?!? Beat it? Wow, I think that's the wrong message to get across.
"Mommy, I'm being bullied at school!"
"Here, Timmy, don't beat the bully with your fists, beat them with this bracelet!"
"Thanks mom!! I'll put a big rock in it and crush that mo'fo's head!!"
Wow, wrong message!! At least the bracelet isn't pink!
Friday, April 22, 2005
Super Hero
I am starting to believe, in my advancing age, that I am slowly morphing into a Super Hero. No Super Hero in particular, but more like a mixture of many. Let's examine the facts:
1. Like Spiderman, I have Super Hero senses. I can always tell when it's about to rain because of the aching in my knees. I can always sense when I need to go to the bathroom...usually at least once in the middle of the night.
2. Like Batman, I have a Super Hero ability to sleep for long periods of time. Bats hybernate, don't they?
3. Like Plastic Man, I have Super stretchy skin...in the waist area...allowing maximum weight gain.
4. Like Kojak, I have little hair. What? That could be a super power!! Wait, Kojak isn't a Super Hero? Oh...scratch that.
5. Like Superman, I have the ability to ... well...I could probably change clothes in a phone booth.
Here are some other Super Hero abilities...
---THE ABILITY TO BRUISE LIKE A PEACH.
---THE ABILITY TO LOSE HIS TEMPER ON THE VOLLEYBALL COURT, BY A SINGLE MISSED CALL.
---THE ABILITY TO LIFT HEAVY OBJECTS (I DO HAVE TO LIFT MYSELF OFF THE COUCH, YOU KNOW!!)
AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY...
---THE ABILITY TO DASH CHILDREN'S HOPES AND DREAMS BY TELLING THEM I AM, IN FACT, TOO SORE TO BE THE HORSEY.
Maybe they don't add up to much of a Super Hero, but hey...it's better than The Waffler!! "Gold and crispy, bad guys are histr'y...WAFFLERRRRRRRR!! (Oh you, go rent Mystery Men!!)
1. Like Spiderman, I have Super Hero senses. I can always tell when it's about to rain because of the aching in my knees. I can always sense when I need to go to the bathroom...usually at least once in the middle of the night.
2. Like Batman, I have a Super Hero ability to sleep for long periods of time. Bats hybernate, don't they?
3. Like Plastic Man, I have Super stretchy skin...in the waist area...allowing maximum weight gain.
4. Like Kojak, I have little hair. What? That could be a super power!! Wait, Kojak isn't a Super Hero? Oh...scratch that.
5. Like Superman, I have the ability to ... well...I could probably change clothes in a phone booth.
Here are some other Super Hero abilities...
---THE ABILITY TO BRUISE LIKE A PEACH.
---THE ABILITY TO LOSE HIS TEMPER ON THE VOLLEYBALL COURT, BY A SINGLE MISSED CALL.
---THE ABILITY TO LIFT HEAVY OBJECTS (I DO HAVE TO LIFT MYSELF OFF THE COUCH, YOU KNOW!!)
AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY...
---THE ABILITY TO DASH CHILDREN'S HOPES AND DREAMS BY TELLING THEM I AM, IN FACT, TOO SORE TO BE THE HORSEY.
Maybe they don't add up to much of a Super Hero, but hey...it's better than The Waffler!! "Gold and crispy, bad guys are histr'y...WAFFLERRRRRRRR!! (Oh you, go rent Mystery Men!!)
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
I Walk The Line
Last night walked a very fine line between being funny and being down right pathetic. It seems that Becky and I have a "schedule" that is very much set in stone, and must be strictly adhered to...and it revolves around television.
Last night, we went to Franklin to pick up some cookie dough I had bought from my cousin's daughter (I guess that would make her my 2nd cousin or something? anyway...). It was a beautiful day to drop the convertible top and enjoy the ride. But, despite the relaxation that came from the trip, I also knew we had to leave Franklin at 7:00 or before, to make it home in time to get dinner and make it home by 8:00.
We picked up the dough, chatted a bit, and wrapped things up at 6:58...still on schedule. As I was driving into town, trying to pry a dinner idea from Becky, the timeline I had so carefully planned took a hit.
"We need to go to Target."
UGH!! I forgot about Target. She DID tell me that before, but my mind is only a steel trap for useless information, and not for important stuff. So, I rearranged the timeline, pushed down the gas, and pulled into Target at 7:30.
"I'm going in, I only need 7 minutes, I'll be back at 7:37." I told Becky...if I took 7 minutes here, 15 minutes to get food, and 7 minutes to get home...I would make it before 8.
I "hurried" into Target (I don't run, and I'm too fat and sore to jog.) My mission was clear. Toaster Pastries, Laundry Detergent, Dryer sheets, out.
I grabbed the items and picked up speed going to the register, dodging shopping carts and leapfrogging little kids (no, I didn't really leapfrog any little kids...are you laughing? I could do it, you know!!)
I got to the registers and quickly surveyed the cashiers...line's too long...cashier looks slow...cashier is a guy...this one looks good. I made a step towards register 3, but my gut told me to change over to 4.
Good thing I did. As I came to a stop in 4, 3 switched her light on for a price check. I wiped the sweat from my brow and thought to myself...that was a close one.
Lane 4 ended up being the fastest lane in the store, and I got to the car at 7:36, one minute ahead of schedule. We tore over to Wendy's, got our food at 7:45 (7 minutes ahead of schedule) and made it home with plenty of time to kick back, relax, and enjoy American Idol and Amazing Race.
(Editors Note: Did you SEE Amazing Race last night? The one couple took the Fast Forward (skip all taks) and in order to skip all tasks, the chick had to shave her head...and SHE DID IT!! I think she looked pretty good with no hair, actually.)
The pathetic thing is (yeah, like that about isn't pathetic enough) we do this on Monday (shows are on 8-11)...Tuesday (8-11)...Wednesday (American Idol results show, duh!!)...Thursday (8-11)...and Sunday (8-11)...it's sad, but with the summer coming, all the shows will be re-runs, and we can enjoy the summer...until Big Brother comes on!!
Last night, we went to Franklin to pick up some cookie dough I had bought from my cousin's daughter (I guess that would make her my 2nd cousin or something? anyway...). It was a beautiful day to drop the convertible top and enjoy the ride. But, despite the relaxation that came from the trip, I also knew we had to leave Franklin at 7:00 or before, to make it home in time to get dinner and make it home by 8:00.
We picked up the dough, chatted a bit, and wrapped things up at 6:58...still on schedule. As I was driving into town, trying to pry a dinner idea from Becky, the timeline I had so carefully planned took a hit.
"We need to go to Target."
UGH!! I forgot about Target. She DID tell me that before, but my mind is only a steel trap for useless information, and not for important stuff. So, I rearranged the timeline, pushed down the gas, and pulled into Target at 7:30.
"I'm going in, I only need 7 minutes, I'll be back at 7:37." I told Becky...if I took 7 minutes here, 15 minutes to get food, and 7 minutes to get home...I would make it before 8.
I "hurried" into Target (I don't run, and I'm too fat and sore to jog.) My mission was clear. Toaster Pastries, Laundry Detergent, Dryer sheets, out.
I grabbed the items and picked up speed going to the register, dodging shopping carts and leapfrogging little kids (no, I didn't really leapfrog any little kids...are you laughing? I could do it, you know!!)
I got to the registers and quickly surveyed the cashiers...line's too long...cashier looks slow...cashier is a guy...this one looks good. I made a step towards register 3, but my gut told me to change over to 4.
Good thing I did. As I came to a stop in 4, 3 switched her light on for a price check. I wiped the sweat from my brow and thought to myself...that was a close one.
Lane 4 ended up being the fastest lane in the store, and I got to the car at 7:36, one minute ahead of schedule. We tore over to Wendy's, got our food at 7:45 (7 minutes ahead of schedule) and made it home with plenty of time to kick back, relax, and enjoy American Idol and Amazing Race.
(Editors Note: Did you SEE Amazing Race last night? The one couple took the Fast Forward (skip all taks) and in order to skip all tasks, the chick had to shave her head...and SHE DID IT!! I think she looked pretty good with no hair, actually.)
The pathetic thing is (yeah, like that about isn't pathetic enough) we do this on Monday (shows are on 8-11)...Tuesday (8-11)...Wednesday (American Idol results show, duh!!)...Thursday (8-11)...and Sunday (8-11)...it's sad, but with the summer coming, all the shows will be re-runs, and we can enjoy the summer...until Big Brother comes on!!
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
A Birthday Trip
I did it!! I survived the year that I was dreading...I am now, officially 28 years old. For those of you not in the know, I have a HUGMONGO problem with the number that sandwiches between 26 and 28. I don't like seeing that number, hearing that number, saying that number...ok, you get the idea. Well, I thought for sure I would have big problems that year, but somehow, I made it out unscathed.
To celebrate, Becky and I decided to take a road trip this past weekend, to celebrate my birthday, her birthday coming up, her new job, etc, etc etc...
So we packed up the Convertible and headed towards the bustling town of Galesburg, Illinois. Never heard of it? Neither did we, until a quick Google search for antiques in Illinois brought us to the town. We drove for 5 hours, got lost once while I was behind the wheel (duh, I always get lost!!) and finally arrived in Galesburg...at about midnight-thirty.
The next day, we hit the Galesburg Antique Mall, a nice three story Mall in which Becky found several Little Golden Books (her vice of choice) and I found a handful of the vinyl records (my vice.) Next, we walked up and down the streets, and found a few closed antique places (BOO) before heading towards a building down a side street that read Collectible - Flea Market. We got halfway there before we realized it said Collectible FIREARMS, not Flea Market. I don't know how we made the mistake either.
We packed up and drove towards our next destination, Kankakee, but Becky stopped at one more place. A real dive looking place called Ziggy's Antique Corporation. I wanted to keep going, but Becky was persistant. I am sooooo glad she was.
Inside, Ziggy's was a virtual record store with some other antiques thrown in. And, no, it wasn't just boxes of junk Musical records...it was the real deal. Among the finds...
George Harrison - All Things Must Pass (3 album set)
Joan Baez - 1st Album, on Vanguard!
2 Beach Boys 45's with Picture Sleeves
A handful of Gene Pitney LP's for $1 each
An even bigger handful of 45's for .25 each
A few Beatles 45's
Ok, I'll stop, I know you probably are saying Gene PitWHO? What does Vanguard mean?
Anyhoo, I dropped a good $70 in there, and came out smelling like roses. If you are in the Galesburg area, I highly recommend Ziggy's on Main Street.
With the top laid back and the high shine shinin', we headed towards Kankakee via 17. It was a really nice 3 hour drive through the small towns and the farming communities. I can tell you, there is more than corn in Indiana, but after this trip to Illinois, I'm not so sure there's much more than that there.
We made it to the 50,000 square foot Kankakee Antique Mall at about 4:40 pm, and they closed at 5. So, we started to bust through the Mall, but found it was too big, so we decided to leave and come back the next day. Becky spent my last $2 cash on a Book, and we left. We drove to Bourbonnais, and grabbed a bite to eat at Ruby Tuesday's. Since the restaurant was in the mall, we decided to walk around when we were finished.
In the back of the mall was a store called Krazy Kollectibles. This place was the bomb!! It had old magazines, music memorabilia, and RECORDS...IN THE MALL!! I couldn't believe it. Of course, the prices were a bit steep. I bought a Lovin' Spoonful 45 with Picture sleeve for $5...I think that was a good deal, but the other stuff...not so much.
We stopped at the Ice Cream shop in the mall, and, since I had no cash, and they didn't take Debit card (who doesn't take Debit card? Even White Castle takes Debit card!!) We asked them if they took an out of State check.
"Um, I don't know..." was the response from the teeny bopper behind the counter. Then silence. Hello, McFly? Are you going to try to find out? Nope. We left. After driving all around the town, we found another ice cream place (unfortunately, it was the same company) but Becky had a 5 in her purse (which she didn't have with her in the mall) and we were able to eat.
We went back to the Antique Mall in Kankakee the next day, and it was a complete bust. 50,000 square feet and I only found 1 record for $2. I took it to the front, slapped it on the counter, and proceeded to pull the Debit card from my wallet...at this point I had no cash.
"Sorry to have to do this to you," I said slidding the card her way. A look of disapointment covered her face.
"Take the album, I'm not running a Master Card for $2!!" Ok, if you say so. I tucked the album and we started to walk out.
"Who doesn't carry cash? What if you wanted to buy a hamburger?" she asked.
I wanted to say:
"Hello, it is 2005 Wilma Flintstone, get out of the cave and join the human race!!"
What I did say was:
"Actually, Debit card is accepted at fast food places now, too."
I smiled, turned and left with my free record in tow. We put the top down, and drove the 4 hours home with the sun on our skin, and the wind in my hairs. Overall, a great trip.
To celebrate, Becky and I decided to take a road trip this past weekend, to celebrate my birthday, her birthday coming up, her new job, etc, etc etc...
So we packed up the Convertible and headed towards the bustling town of Galesburg, Illinois. Never heard of it? Neither did we, until a quick Google search for antiques in Illinois brought us to the town. We drove for 5 hours, got lost once while I was behind the wheel (duh, I always get lost!!) and finally arrived in Galesburg...at about midnight-thirty.
The next day, we hit the Galesburg Antique Mall, a nice three story Mall in which Becky found several Little Golden Books (her vice of choice) and I found a handful of the vinyl records (my vice.) Next, we walked up and down the streets, and found a few closed antique places (BOO) before heading towards a building down a side street that read Collectible - Flea Market. We got halfway there before we realized it said Collectible FIREARMS, not Flea Market. I don't know how we made the mistake either.
We packed up and drove towards our next destination, Kankakee, but Becky stopped at one more place. A real dive looking place called Ziggy's Antique Corporation. I wanted to keep going, but Becky was persistant. I am sooooo glad she was.
Inside, Ziggy's was a virtual record store with some other antiques thrown in. And, no, it wasn't just boxes of junk Musical records...it was the real deal. Among the finds...
George Harrison - All Things Must Pass (3 album set)
Joan Baez - 1st Album, on Vanguard!
2 Beach Boys 45's with Picture Sleeves
A handful of Gene Pitney LP's for $1 each
An even bigger handful of 45's for .25 each
A few Beatles 45's
Ok, I'll stop, I know you probably are saying Gene PitWHO? What does Vanguard mean?
Anyhoo, I dropped a good $70 in there, and came out smelling like roses. If you are in the Galesburg area, I highly recommend Ziggy's on Main Street.
With the top laid back and the high shine shinin', we headed towards Kankakee via 17. It was a really nice 3 hour drive through the small towns and the farming communities. I can tell you, there is more than corn in Indiana, but after this trip to Illinois, I'm not so sure there's much more than that there.
We made it to the 50,000 square foot Kankakee Antique Mall at about 4:40 pm, and they closed at 5. So, we started to bust through the Mall, but found it was too big, so we decided to leave and come back the next day. Becky spent my last $2 cash on a Book, and we left. We drove to Bourbonnais, and grabbed a bite to eat at Ruby Tuesday's. Since the restaurant was in the mall, we decided to walk around when we were finished.
In the back of the mall was a store called Krazy Kollectibles. This place was the bomb!! It had old magazines, music memorabilia, and RECORDS...IN THE MALL!! I couldn't believe it. Of course, the prices were a bit steep. I bought a Lovin' Spoonful 45 with Picture sleeve for $5...I think that was a good deal, but the other stuff...not so much.
We stopped at the Ice Cream shop in the mall, and, since I had no cash, and they didn't take Debit card (who doesn't take Debit card? Even White Castle takes Debit card!!) We asked them if they took an out of State check.
"Um, I don't know..." was the response from the teeny bopper behind the counter. Then silence. Hello, McFly? Are you going to try to find out? Nope. We left. After driving all around the town, we found another ice cream place (unfortunately, it was the same company) but Becky had a 5 in her purse (which she didn't have with her in the mall) and we were able to eat.
We went back to the Antique Mall in Kankakee the next day, and it was a complete bust. 50,000 square feet and I only found 1 record for $2. I took it to the front, slapped it on the counter, and proceeded to pull the Debit card from my wallet...at this point I had no cash.
"Sorry to have to do this to you," I said slidding the card her way. A look of disapointment covered her face.
"Take the album, I'm not running a Master Card for $2!!" Ok, if you say so. I tucked the album and we started to walk out.
"Who doesn't carry cash? What if you wanted to buy a hamburger?" she asked.
I wanted to say:
"Hello, it is 2005 Wilma Flintstone, get out of the cave and join the human race!!"
What I did say was:
"Actually, Debit card is accepted at fast food places now, too."
I smiled, turned and left with my free record in tow. We put the top down, and drove the 4 hours home with the sun on our skin, and the wind in my hairs. Overall, a great trip.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Pinch It Off
I think every workplace has one. The employee who is such a poor fit for the position, you just have to shrug and fix their mistakes, because that's all you really can do. I use to work with a woman like that...her name was Lana. I won't get into all the easy tasks she couldn't perform, but I would like to share with you a particularly embassassing moment.
One day, I was at work when the urge to visit the "little boys room" hit me. So, I grabbed a magazine and headed down to snuggle up for a spell. Back in the office, the phone rang.
Lana answered it. Of course, since she was incapable of doing even the mundane tasks, she needed to seek help for the call. Even though there were others in the room, she felt I needed to answer the question.
"Where's Tony?" she asked? The other workers finally concluded that I was in the restroom, you know, resting. Another worker said, in a joking manner,
"You should just go to the restroom and yell in for him."
And off she went...heading for the restroom. I was finished "resting" and I was at the sink preparing to wash my hands when I heard a voice from the outside.
"Tony? Tony?" I couldn't ignore it, because there were other guys in the restroom who knew me, and knew the call was for me. You have got to be kidding me? I'm in the restroom here!!
At that point, what do you do? I was mid wash, I couldn't walk out and talk to her, I couldn't ignore her, or God only knows what she would have done...so, I yelled back.
"Yeah?"
"Can you come out here for a minute?"
WHAT?!? She has no idea if I'm washing my hands, finishing a number one, or consoling a number 2...and she has the nerve to ask me if I would come out there?
"Could you wait a minute, I'm kinda busy here." I yelled back as the guys around me shot weird looks in my direction. I slowly finished my hand washing...mainly so I could cool off before going out to face this odd situation.
When I finished, I had hoped that she would be gone...but no, she was standing right by the door. She asked me the question as I gave her the "what-the-hell-are-you-doing-standing-outside-the-men's-room-you-moron" look (what, you don't know that look? It's never happened to you? Will wonders ever cease!!)
The question amounted to something that anyone who was there for even a day could have answered, and at that point she had been there over two years...I was super pissed that she couldn't ask anyone else, or at least wait for me to come back to the office.
I fixed the "problem" and had a talk with the boss about keeping Tweedle Dumb out of the Men's room. From that day forward, I never returned to that restroom, choosing instead for the quiet serenity of the second floor facilities, which were free from distractions.
One day, I was at work when the urge to visit the "little boys room" hit me. So, I grabbed a magazine and headed down to snuggle up for a spell. Back in the office, the phone rang.
Lana answered it. Of course, since she was incapable of doing even the mundane tasks, she needed to seek help for the call. Even though there were others in the room, she felt I needed to answer the question.
"Where's Tony?" she asked? The other workers finally concluded that I was in the restroom, you know, resting. Another worker said, in a joking manner,
"You should just go to the restroom and yell in for him."
And off she went...heading for the restroom. I was finished "resting" and I was at the sink preparing to wash my hands when I heard a voice from the outside.
"Tony? Tony?" I couldn't ignore it, because there were other guys in the restroom who knew me, and knew the call was for me. You have got to be kidding me? I'm in the restroom here!!
At that point, what do you do? I was mid wash, I couldn't walk out and talk to her, I couldn't ignore her, or God only knows what she would have done...so, I yelled back.
"Yeah?"
"Can you come out here for a minute?"
WHAT?!? She has no idea if I'm washing my hands, finishing a number one, or consoling a number 2...and she has the nerve to ask me if I would come out there?
"Could you wait a minute, I'm kinda busy here." I yelled back as the guys around me shot weird looks in my direction. I slowly finished my hand washing...mainly so I could cool off before going out to face this odd situation.
When I finished, I had hoped that she would be gone...but no, she was standing right by the door. She asked me the question as I gave her the "what-the-hell-are-you-doing-standing-outside-the-men's-room-you-moron" look (what, you don't know that look? It's never happened to you? Will wonders ever cease!!)
The question amounted to something that anyone who was there for even a day could have answered, and at that point she had been there over two years...I was super pissed that she couldn't ask anyone else, or at least wait for me to come back to the office.
I fixed the "problem" and had a talk with the boss about keeping Tweedle Dumb out of the Men's room. From that day forward, I never returned to that restroom, choosing instead for the quiet serenity of the second floor facilities, which were free from distractions.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
The Reunion
On Monday, March 28, 2005, my Grandma will turn a very spry 83 years young. It seems this year, however, her birthday present came a bit early.
This past Saturday, March 19th, I got a call from my grandma. She asked me if I wanted to come over and meet somebody. I couldn't imagine who, until she told me the story.
Grandma explained that she had gotten a phone call from a guy whose voice didn't seem familiar. He asked a few simple questions...was your maiden name Braun, was your husband's name Laurence?
Yes.
Yes.
Then the line was silent. After a few seconds of silence, grandma heard crying over the phone. The man on the other end said he couldn't believe he had finally found her.
The man was grandma's 76 year-old younger brother.
They hadn't been in contact in 50 years.
50 YEARS!!
He asked if he could come and see her. Of course, she quickly said yes. She assumed her brother was deceased since they hadn't been in contact. But now she knew he was alive, and he was coming to see her.
.....................
"So," Grandma asked me "do you think you could stop by and see him?" Grandma doesn't ask for much, and she really didn't have to ask me to come and see him, I wanted to. For her, for him, for myself AND for the whole family. She went on to conclude that he was asleep, and she wasn't going to tell him anyone was coming, so he would be surprised.
"I'll be there." I replied.
Sunday at 1 pm, I finally meet Grandma's long lost brother. Before I met him, I wondered if it was really her brother, or just someone who was scamming her, or was mistaken. Those thoughts quickly faded when I saw him. There was no doubt he and grandma were related, as they looked strikingly similar.
Almost the whole family was there. All of grandma's kids (except my Aunt Mary Ann, whom we missed very much...wish you could have made it!!), a lot of the grand kids, and some great-grand kids all made appearances while Grandma's brother just sat, teary eyed, holding his face and repeating "I can't believe I'm sitting here, I can't believe this!"
All I could do was smile.
It's really hard to believe that in a family that is as close as ours, there would come such a reunion. But, in true Gillespie fashion, we made it a great one. I hope he knows how much we love grandma...and how, even though most of us had never met him until Saturday, how much we love him, too. He's a part of this family...and what a fine family it is.
This past Saturday, March 19th, I got a call from my grandma. She asked me if I wanted to come over and meet somebody. I couldn't imagine who, until she told me the story.
Grandma explained that she had gotten a phone call from a guy whose voice didn't seem familiar. He asked a few simple questions...was your maiden name Braun, was your husband's name Laurence?
Yes.
Yes.
Then the line was silent. After a few seconds of silence, grandma heard crying over the phone. The man on the other end said he couldn't believe he had finally found her.
The man was grandma's 76 year-old younger brother.
They hadn't been in contact in 50 years.
50 YEARS!!
He asked if he could come and see her. Of course, she quickly said yes. She assumed her brother was deceased since they hadn't been in contact. But now she knew he was alive, and he was coming to see her.
.....................
"So," Grandma asked me "do you think you could stop by and see him?" Grandma doesn't ask for much, and she really didn't have to ask me to come and see him, I wanted to. For her, for him, for myself AND for the whole family. She went on to conclude that he was asleep, and she wasn't going to tell him anyone was coming, so he would be surprised.
"I'll be there." I replied.
Sunday at 1 pm, I finally meet Grandma's long lost brother. Before I met him, I wondered if it was really her brother, or just someone who was scamming her, or was mistaken. Those thoughts quickly faded when I saw him. There was no doubt he and grandma were related, as they looked strikingly similar.
Almost the whole family was there. All of grandma's kids (except my Aunt Mary Ann, whom we missed very much...wish you could have made it!!), a lot of the grand kids, and some great-grand kids all made appearances while Grandma's brother just sat, teary eyed, holding his face and repeating "I can't believe I'm sitting here, I can't believe this!"
All I could do was smile.
It's really hard to believe that in a family that is as close as ours, there would come such a reunion. But, in true Gillespie fashion, we made it a great one. I hope he knows how much we love grandma...and how, even though most of us had never met him until Saturday, how much we love him, too. He's a part of this family...and what a fine family it is.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
St Patrick's Day
Top of the mornin' to ya! Erin Go Braugh! These Irish Eyes are Smilin'!!
Ok, so it's St Patrick's Day, which is, I confess, my favorite holiday of the year. I know what you are thinking..."It's because you can drink a lot..."
No, I actually have never had a green beer. And I'm not a drinker, so that's not it. The reason is actually two fold.
Fold #1: My ancestors were Irish. Like my great-great or great-great-great grandmother was of Irish decent.
Fold #2: The other holidays are so commerciallized, the meaning is lost.
So, for all you Irish men and women...and all you Irish want-to-bes, tip your green brew, and slam one back. Ireland, this one's for you!!
Monday, March 14, 2005
A Star Is Born
I'm a big music fan. Love The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, etc, etc, etc. however, I'm not a big Country music fan. I really don't know why, because there are some really good country tunes out there, and a lot of the people I like have been linked to some form of Country in the past...like Bob Dylan (Nashville Skyline) or Roy Orbison.
Last Saturday, however, I enjoyed two hours of country music by a wonderfully talented up and comer named Judy Sutton. I bet a lot of you have heard of her...probably because she's my Aunt and a lot of people who read this blog are related to her in some fashion.
She really is an amazing singer in the vein of Patsy Cline, or...ok, coming up with any Country artist was a stretch, but she sang 3 Patsy Cline songs, and totally torn them up, so I will go with that.
Aunt Judy just signed a record contract with True Country Records
www.dmirecords.com
Check out the link so you can read all about her, buy her single "There's Not a Wrong Way (For You to Love Me Right)", sign her message board, and check her progress.
Also, I highly encourage you to hear her song, which has reached #1 on the Country and General Country Independant Charts, at
http://www.soundclick.com/pro/?BandID=301369
Any one who likes country music, or ME should go and support my wonderfully talented Aunt!! I hope to have a link to her up on my sight soon, if Becky can figure out how to do that (she's so smart, I figure she will have no problem!!)
Last Saturday, however, I enjoyed two hours of country music by a wonderfully talented up and comer named Judy Sutton. I bet a lot of you have heard of her...probably because she's my Aunt and a lot of people who read this blog are related to her in some fashion.
She really is an amazing singer in the vein of Patsy Cline, or...ok, coming up with any Country artist was a stretch, but she sang 3 Patsy Cline songs, and totally torn them up, so I will go with that.
Aunt Judy just signed a record contract with True Country Records
www.dmirecords.com
Check out the link so you can read all about her, buy her single "There's Not a Wrong Way (For You to Love Me Right)", sign her message board, and check her progress.
Also, I highly encourage you to hear her song, which has reached #1 on the Country and General Country Independant Charts, at
http://www.soundclick.com/pro/?BandID=301369
Any one who likes country music, or ME should go and support my wonderfully talented Aunt!! I hope to have a link to her up on my sight soon, if Becky can figure out how to do that (she's so smart, I figure she will have no problem!!)
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Monday, February 28, 2005
Deceived: The Final Chapter
In case any of you out there were curious as to how the Book deception ended up, here's the rest of the story.
Joker Man finally e-mailed me back...actually, his wife did...and said to send the book back and she would return the money. She also said it was their mistake. That's all I wanted people!! Admission of guilt.
I declined her offer for a refund (I never asked for one, and it would cost more to return the book, because of shipping charges), and told her I wasn't trying to be rude or crappy. I just wanted her to learn something.
The moral:
It's better to be honest and not sell something, than it is to be deceitful and have to deal with me.
Besides, if it didn't say First Edition, I would have asked, they would have said, "I don't know", and I could have taught them about Book Clubs and First Editions, thus teaching them something. I hoped they learned their lesson.
Joker Man finally e-mailed me back...actually, his wife did...and said to send the book back and she would return the money. She also said it was their mistake. That's all I wanted people!! Admission of guilt.
I declined her offer for a refund (I never asked for one, and it would cost more to return the book, because of shipping charges), and told her I wasn't trying to be rude or crappy. I just wanted her to learn something.
The moral:
It's better to be honest and not sell something, than it is to be deceitful and have to deal with me.
Besides, if it didn't say First Edition, I would have asked, they would have said, "I don't know", and I could have taught them about Book Clubs and First Editions, thus teaching them something. I hoped they learned their lesson.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Deceived: Part 2
When we spoke last, I was in the midst of an E-Bay deveival...Joker Man decided he was going to tell me the book was a "First Edition", when in fact, it was a Book Club Edition.
Ok, enough recap, read Deceived: Part 1 if you forgot what's happening.
So, I get a return e-mail from Joker Man and he says:
"In my description, I never claimed to be an expert. I don't even know how to tell if a book is a book club addition."
Yes, addition.
So, of course, me being the nice guy I am, sent the following:
"If you were enough of an "expert" to claim the book was a first edition (for those of you not in the know, First Editions don't usually say First Edition on the inside), then you should be "expert" enough to know it's a Book Club Edition."
I went on to school him on where to find the BCE markings, and left him with the hope that he wouldn't deceive others.
He blew me off.
I think I will leave him negative feedback, because of the deception...and the crappy return e-mail. Serves this Joker right!!
Ok, enough recap, read Deceived: Part 1 if you forgot what's happening.
So, I get a return e-mail from Joker Man and he says:
"In my description, I never claimed to be an expert. I don't even know how to tell if a book is a book club addition."
Yes, addition.
So, of course, me being the nice guy I am, sent the following:
"If you were enough of an "expert" to claim the book was a first edition (for those of you not in the know, First Editions don't usually say First Edition on the inside), then you should be "expert" enough to know it's a Book Club Edition."
I went on to school him on where to find the BCE markings, and left him with the hope that he wouldn't deceive others.
He blew me off.
I think I will leave him negative feedback, because of the deception...and the crappy return e-mail. Serves this Joker right!!
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Deceived: Part 1
Hello, my name is Tony, and I am an E-Bay Addict.
"Hello, Tony!!" (that's your part, jeez people, help me out here!!)
I love searching for stuff I don't need on E-Bay. It's one of the great joys of coming to work every day (don't tell the boss.) But sometimes, you make a purchase, and the results aren't as good as you had hoped.
Last week I bid on, a 1945 "First Edition" James Hilton Novel, "So Well Remembered." I am a big Hilton fan (if you haven't read Lost Horizon yet, DO IT!!), and I am also a collector of the aforementioned "stuff I don't need", so 1st Edition Hilton novels seemed appropriate.
After the bidding war ceased...ok, I was the only bidder...I had won the auction. today, the book came in. It looked like the photo...but upon closer inspection...
IT WAS A BOOK CLUB EDITION!!
Now, for those of you not in the know, a Book Club Edition is a mass produced edition of the original book that is distributed through the Book Club at prices that are the equivalent to 100 books for 3/4 of a cent. In other words, they aren't collectible, they aren't rare, and they definitely aren't FIRST EDITIONS!!
With my blood boiling, I layed down an e-mail to the seller, telling him of my disapproval. Before I sent the spewing hate, I rechecked the auction. Nope, it doesn't mention Book Club Edition...
So, I set back to the e-mail. Remembering that he has yet to leave feedback for me (E-Bay works off a feedback system...Positive, Neutral, and Negative. The more positives you have, the better your chances are of selling your items.) I decided to back off my original e-mail and give him a chance to respond to my allegations.
My letter basically said: I won this auction for a "First Edition" and the book is a Book Club Edition. I am very disappointed, as I feel deceived.
I never asked for a return in money or anything like that. Why? That's not the point. I don't want a refund...I want an apology, an explanation...AND, most of all, I want him to be nice and admit he deceived me. The book was cheap, so that's unimportant. I want him to say, "I made a mistake. I'm sorry."
But, I bet he won't. I bet he will come back and say something about "E-mailing him to ask questions BEFORE the auction ended."
If the description said "First Edition", would you e-mail and ask if the book was a first edition? Me either.
I actually hope he says something about "No Refunds." If he does, I'm going to bust him with the fact that I didn't ask for one, and then say: "It's funny that I can't assume the book isn't a Book Club, but you can assume I want a refund..."
What is today? The 24th. I will wait for his e-mail and update you all on what his resulting comments are. If he is nice...I'll give him a positive feedback for being nice, shipping fast, and the likes. If he is an ass about things, I'll sacrifice myself and give the negative. I have 219 positive feedbacks with only one neutral (a story for another time involving an LJN Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka doll...). I think it may be time to get that first negative for the cause of honesty in E-Baying!!
"Hello, Tony!!" (that's your part, jeez people, help me out here!!)
I love searching for stuff I don't need on E-Bay. It's one of the great joys of coming to work every day (don't tell the boss.) But sometimes, you make a purchase, and the results aren't as good as you had hoped.
Last week I bid on, a 1945 "First Edition" James Hilton Novel, "So Well Remembered." I am a big Hilton fan (if you haven't read Lost Horizon yet, DO IT!!), and I am also a collector of the aforementioned "stuff I don't need", so 1st Edition Hilton novels seemed appropriate.
After the bidding war ceased...ok, I was the only bidder...I had won the auction. today, the book came in. It looked like the photo...but upon closer inspection...
IT WAS A BOOK CLUB EDITION!!
Now, for those of you not in the know, a Book Club Edition is a mass produced edition of the original book that is distributed through the Book Club at prices that are the equivalent to 100 books for 3/4 of a cent. In other words, they aren't collectible, they aren't rare, and they definitely aren't FIRST EDITIONS!!
With my blood boiling, I layed down an e-mail to the seller, telling him of my disapproval. Before I sent the spewing hate, I rechecked the auction. Nope, it doesn't mention Book Club Edition...
So, I set back to the e-mail. Remembering that he has yet to leave feedback for me (E-Bay works off a feedback system...Positive, Neutral, and Negative. The more positives you have, the better your chances are of selling your items.) I decided to back off my original e-mail and give him a chance to respond to my allegations.
My letter basically said: I won this auction for a "First Edition" and the book is a Book Club Edition. I am very disappointed, as I feel deceived.
I never asked for a return in money or anything like that. Why? That's not the point. I don't want a refund...I want an apology, an explanation...AND, most of all, I want him to be nice and admit he deceived me. The book was cheap, so that's unimportant. I want him to say, "I made a mistake. I'm sorry."
But, I bet he won't. I bet he will come back and say something about "E-mailing him to ask questions BEFORE the auction ended."
If the description said "First Edition", would you e-mail and ask if the book was a first edition? Me either.
I actually hope he says something about "No Refunds." If he does, I'm going to bust him with the fact that I didn't ask for one, and then say: "It's funny that I can't assume the book isn't a Book Club, but you can assume I want a refund..."
What is today? The 24th. I will wait for his e-mail and update you all on what his resulting comments are. If he is nice...I'll give him a positive feedback for being nice, shipping fast, and the likes. If he is an ass about things, I'll sacrifice myself and give the negative. I have 219 positive feedbacks with only one neutral (a story for another time involving an LJN Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka doll...). I think it may be time to get that first negative for the cause of honesty in E-Baying!!
Thursday, February 17, 2005
'Cause I'm The Trash Man
Of all the thankless jobs out there, I think Trash Man has to rank right up there at the top. I understand that. But I still think we should hold these people accountable when they utterly destroy our trash cans.
I came home last night to find my trash can's handle torn and broken. This is the third time this has happened. Come on, trash men, it's not like I'm throwing blocks of concrete in the bottom of these things!!
"Let me gently pick up this trash can and WHOA!! Feels like a ton of bricks in that bad boy!"
No, I throw away a few bags of trash, and the trash man, in turn does a double handed yank on the handle, followed by a dump of the trash and a triple axle with a full Yurchanko as he slams it to the frozen ground, shattering the can's very being.
Who pays for this? Ultimately, it's the trash can who pays with broken parts and broken dreams. All that can wanted was to hold the trash, and make it's mamma proud. Now, it's just a broken shell of a can. That's just garbage!!
So, I will buy a new one and sit the old tattered can out to be thrown away...it's funny how long it takes the trash man to actually take the old can with him. For the first couple of weeks he will pick it up, see no trash and throw it back to the ground, empty. You actually have to put the old broken can into the new can...like it's trash, or that thing sits there forever.
I should write a note on it...
"Please throw my old trash can away. It was a good trash can, UNTIL YOU BROKE IT!! Please leave $10 to cover the cost of a new can."
Nah, better not...who knows what the Trash Man would do then!!
I came home last night to find my trash can's handle torn and broken. This is the third time this has happened. Come on, trash men, it's not like I'm throwing blocks of concrete in the bottom of these things!!
"Let me gently pick up this trash can and WHOA!! Feels like a ton of bricks in that bad boy!"
No, I throw away a few bags of trash, and the trash man, in turn does a double handed yank on the handle, followed by a dump of the trash and a triple axle with a full Yurchanko as he slams it to the frozen ground, shattering the can's very being.
Who pays for this? Ultimately, it's the trash can who pays with broken parts and broken dreams. All that can wanted was to hold the trash, and make it's mamma proud. Now, it's just a broken shell of a can. That's just garbage!!
So, I will buy a new one and sit the old tattered can out to be thrown away...it's funny how long it takes the trash man to actually take the old can with him. For the first couple of weeks he will pick it up, see no trash and throw it back to the ground, empty. You actually have to put the old broken can into the new can...like it's trash, or that thing sits there forever.
I should write a note on it...
"Please throw my old trash can away. It was a good trash can, UNTIL YOU BROKE IT!! Please leave $10 to cover the cost of a new can."
Nah, better not...who knows what the Trash Man would do then!!
Monday, February 14, 2005
If You Can't Beat 'Em...
Last weekend, Becky and I set out to convert a gaping hole in our computer room into a magnificent CD rack. Sounds simple enough. But when you consider my lack of any "handyman" type skills, and Becky and my inability to get along while doing projects, the task seems a little more monumental.
Last summer, Becky and I remodeled our bathroom. Part of the project included tearing out a closet from the Computer room, and incorporating the space into our tiny bathroom. The result left a hole in the computer room where the closet door use to be. Becky wisely suggested that we convert the space into an inlaid CD rack. (Great Idea by Becky #1)
After many months procrastinating (as I do so well), we finally decided to start the rack.
Ok, Becky told me I had to do it.
I drew up some plans and was mentally ready for the task. I was so confident, in fact, that I told Becky's mom the job would take, max, 5 hours (not including time to get the wood.)
We went and bought the wood and started to build. Things were actually going well. I was measuring the wood and cutting it with the circular saw (something I had only used twice before in my life.) Things were progressing well. Then, our first "discussion".
Becky: "Are you going to put spacers to hold the shelves up?"
Translation: "Don't put spacers to hold the shelves up, it will look stupid."
Me: "Yes."
Becky: "Oh, I think it would be better if..."
Oh, no. Here it comes. Becky tells me for months to build the CD rack, build the CD rack...then, after I rack my brains coming up with this plan...she tells me HOW to build it. UGH! This is why I get mad...usually. This time, I decided to take a different approach.
I admit, at first I fought her ideas. Saying things like, "That will be too hard!" and "I don't want to do it that way...(cause I'm a whiny little baby, I should have added.)" But then, I just said, ok, let's do it your way.
And you know what? It actually came out BETTER than my original idea. It took a little bit of work, but her CD rack idea was great. (Great Idea by Becky #2) The project got done, and we hardly fought at all about those little things.
After we finished building the shelf, puttying, and painting...we made a collage of music pictures on the back wall behind the shelves for added effect that came out cool, and was a fun project to do together (Great Idea by Becky #3). I was really surprised how well we worked together, given our shady past work history. Maybe I'm growing up a little, and becoming a little more patient. Scary thought.
In case you were wondering, the shelf took 8 hours to build, and about 4 hours to collage. Total with painting, getting the lumber, building and collaging...15 hours. But it was fun!!
Total Great Ideas by Becky on the CD Rack project: 3
Total Great Ideas by Tony on the CD Rack Project: 0
I hope you all will stop by and see Becky's great CD rack!!
Last summer, Becky and I remodeled our bathroom. Part of the project included tearing out a closet from the Computer room, and incorporating the space into our tiny bathroom. The result left a hole in the computer room where the closet door use to be. Becky wisely suggested that we convert the space into an inlaid CD rack. (Great Idea by Becky #1)
After many months procrastinating (as I do so well), we finally decided to start the rack.
Ok, Becky told me I had to do it.
I drew up some plans and was mentally ready for the task. I was so confident, in fact, that I told Becky's mom the job would take, max, 5 hours (not including time to get the wood.)
We went and bought the wood and started to build. Things were actually going well. I was measuring the wood and cutting it with the circular saw (something I had only used twice before in my life.) Things were progressing well. Then, our first "discussion".
Becky: "Are you going to put spacers to hold the shelves up?"
Translation: "Don't put spacers to hold the shelves up, it will look stupid."
Me: "Yes."
Becky: "Oh, I think it would be better if..."
Oh, no. Here it comes. Becky tells me for months to build the CD rack, build the CD rack...then, after I rack my brains coming up with this plan...she tells me HOW to build it. UGH! This is why I get mad...usually. This time, I decided to take a different approach.
I admit, at first I fought her ideas. Saying things like, "That will be too hard!" and "I don't want to do it that way...(cause I'm a whiny little baby, I should have added.)" But then, I just said, ok, let's do it your way.
And you know what? It actually came out BETTER than my original idea. It took a little bit of work, but her CD rack idea was great. (Great Idea by Becky #2) The project got done, and we hardly fought at all about those little things.
After we finished building the shelf, puttying, and painting...we made a collage of music pictures on the back wall behind the shelves for added effect that came out cool, and was a fun project to do together (Great Idea by Becky #3). I was really surprised how well we worked together, given our shady past work history. Maybe I'm growing up a little, and becoming a little more patient. Scary thought.
In case you were wondering, the shelf took 8 hours to build, and about 4 hours to collage. Total with painting, getting the lumber, building and collaging...15 hours. But it was fun!!
Total Great Ideas by Becky on the CD Rack project: 3
Total Great Ideas by Tony on the CD Rack Project: 0
I hope you all will stop by and see Becky's great CD rack!!
Friday, February 11, 2005
Let's Get Physical
There's nothing like a physical. Not the "turn your head and cough" kind, but a full out, check yo' nekkid ass, down and dirty, head to toe, physical.
On the one hand, it's nice to know that all the little aches, pains, odd veins, and weird rash things you have are normal.
But on the other hand...
If you take out "on the other" from the above sentence, you know what's bad about physicals. It's over now, thankfully, and I am healthy. For those of you that know me, I'm sure you are happy. For those of you who don't, you probably don't care.
Either way.
On the one hand, it's nice to know that all the little aches, pains, odd veins, and weird rash things you have are normal.
But on the other hand...
If you take out "on the other" from the above sentence, you know what's bad about physicals. It's over now, thankfully, and I am healthy. For those of you that know me, I'm sure you are happy. For those of you who don't, you probably don't care.
Either way.
Here Today
So, this is it. The new layout. Becky made it a little easier to look at (no pink signatures behind the words.) Thanks to both of my commentors for helping me with the design.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
New Layout
Ok, I need some help here people!! Becky has thrown some new juice into my blog, and I want to see what you all think. Great, decent, too busy, liked the plain way better...
Just drop a comment in the comment section at the bottom and let me know!
Thanks,
Tony
Just drop a comment in the comment section at the bottom and let me know!
Thanks,
Tony
Charming: Round 2
A comment to the last post:
Anonymous said...
not try at all because you can't get it right the first time? how uninspired is that?! everyone deserves a chance and some things, they deserve to try until they are content with the outcome. it's because no one's perfect that we should encourage a third. nothing comes easy. it probably didn't take you only two times to learn to walk or talk in a complete coherent sentence or learn to ride a bike, or swim. There's hardly anything that a person can complish completely right in the first two tries. we learn and get better at things. my mom would always tell me a saying that they have in vietnamese and basically, it says that failure is the mother of success. plus, what is success without failure every now and again
My answer:
After having read this comment, and re-reading my post, I would have to agree with the comment. My post didn't make sense, and it was incorrect. Let me rephrase what I should have said:
To give someone a second chance, or even a third, is both acceptable, and honorable. But I would say "Keep trying!!" or "You'll get it!!"
Saying "Third time's the charm" to me is like saying the first two tries mean nothing, but it's the third try that's important. If you get it on the second try, it's ok, but the CHARM is the third try!! Be damned if it takes you 4, cause then what do you say?
"Third time's the charm, but the 4th try is pretty good, too!!"
No, you shot yourself in the foot when you say one particular try should be the best of the bunch.
Actually, I kind of like "Failure is the mother of success." Thanks anonymous's mom for that one!!
Anonymous said...
not try at all because you can't get it right the first time? how uninspired is that?! everyone deserves a chance and some things, they deserve to try until they are content with the outcome. it's because no one's perfect that we should encourage a third. nothing comes easy. it probably didn't take you only two times to learn to walk or talk in a complete coherent sentence or learn to ride a bike, or swim. There's hardly anything that a person can complish completely right in the first two tries. we learn and get better at things. my mom would always tell me a saying that they have in vietnamese and basically, it says that failure is the mother of success. plus, what is success without failure every now and again
My answer:
After having read this comment, and re-reading my post, I would have to agree with the comment. My post didn't make sense, and it was incorrect. Let me rephrase what I should have said:
To give someone a second chance, or even a third, is both acceptable, and honorable. But I would say "Keep trying!!" or "You'll get it!!"
Saying "Third time's the charm" to me is like saying the first two tries mean nothing, but it's the third try that's important. If you get it on the second try, it's ok, but the CHARM is the third try!! Be damned if it takes you 4, cause then what do you say?
"Third time's the charm, but the 4th try is pretty good, too!!"
No, you shot yourself in the foot when you say one particular try should be the best of the bunch.
Actually, I kind of like "Failure is the mother of success." Thanks anonymous's mom for that one!!
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Charming
Often in the English language, phrases come up. They evolve. "The Proof of the pudding is in the eating..." has evolved into "The Proof is in the Pudding." I have writen about this before.
One phrase I can't figure out is "Third time's the charm."
What?!? Why exactly are we giving people who suck at something THREE CHANCES to get it right? That just seems a little excessive to me. Ok, two tries, I may buy, because nobody's perfect. But to encourage a third?
And where did this phrase evolve from? I have no clue. I think this is one that stood on it's own somehow. All I know is, if it's going to take me three tries to get it, I probably don't want to even attempt it once.
I want the first time to be the charm. I don't call it being lazy, I call it being realistic. If I'm not skilled enough the first two times...forget it!
One phrase I can't figure out is "Third time's the charm."
What?!? Why exactly are we giving people who suck at something THREE CHANCES to get it right? That just seems a little excessive to me. Ok, two tries, I may buy, because nobody's perfect. But to encourage a third?
And where did this phrase evolve from? I have no clue. I think this is one that stood on it's own somehow. All I know is, if it's going to take me three tries to get it, I probably don't want to even attempt it once.
I want the first time to be the charm. I don't call it being lazy, I call it being realistic. If I'm not skilled enough the first two times...forget it!
Friday, January 28, 2005
We'll Keep In Touch!
I got an e-mail the other day requesting some information. The sender was a familiar name, but the reason was shocking. The e-mailer wanted my address so I could receive information about my 10 year High School Re-Union.
10 YEARS!!
Damn, I feel old. Maybe a bit unimportant. You know how your mind wanders sometimes. Mine certainly does. Thoughts that run through my head:
1. Will anyone remember me?
2. Does anybody still think of me?
3. What great things will everyone else be doing?
4. How many people will be better off than me?
5. How many will be worse off?
6. What will people look like?
I never considered myself a "popular" person. I was known by a lot, acknowledged by many, but I never really interacted like others. A bit backwards, I guess you could have described me as. Will they remember me? Oh, I remember them. Small things flood back to me with the mention of each name. Things I should have forgotten long ago, but for some reason have locked into my mind, like the lyrics to songs.
Do they see my name and wonder "what ever happened to Tony?" I doubt it. But that's ok. I like to think I leave a mark on the people who leave a mark on me. It's kind of a respect thing, I guess.
How many people will have great lives? Will they be better off than I am? I highly doubt they could be. Don't get me wrong, others may have tons of money, live in mansions and sleep on gold...but that doesn't necessarily make them better off than me. I have a great life. I think I have done very well for myself.
I guess none of that matters. Chances are, I'll go, see some people, talk about the old times, exchange numbers and e-mail addresses and then never see them again. Just like High School. We'll keep in touch! Best Friends Forever!!
Seems like so long ago.
But I bet when I see the people I once held in such high regard, the valedictorian, the cheerleaders, the quarterback of the football team...I bet these people are just like me now. No hierarchy applies to the 10 year reunion. We are now all equal. Only, somehow, I feel like I have more to be proud of. It's like I was so insignificant in High School, and I did so much since...
I don't feel superior, just confident. Confident that I can go and be one of the group. One of the Class of 95. That's a good feeling. Not just a name.
10 YEARS!!
Damn, I feel old. Maybe a bit unimportant. You know how your mind wanders sometimes. Mine certainly does. Thoughts that run through my head:
1. Will anyone remember me?
2. Does anybody still think of me?
3. What great things will everyone else be doing?
4. How many people will be better off than me?
5. How many will be worse off?
6. What will people look like?
I never considered myself a "popular" person. I was known by a lot, acknowledged by many, but I never really interacted like others. A bit backwards, I guess you could have described me as. Will they remember me? Oh, I remember them. Small things flood back to me with the mention of each name. Things I should have forgotten long ago, but for some reason have locked into my mind, like the lyrics to songs.
Do they see my name and wonder "what ever happened to Tony?" I doubt it. But that's ok. I like to think I leave a mark on the people who leave a mark on me. It's kind of a respect thing, I guess.
How many people will have great lives? Will they be better off than I am? I highly doubt they could be. Don't get me wrong, others may have tons of money, live in mansions and sleep on gold...but that doesn't necessarily make them better off than me. I have a great life. I think I have done very well for myself.
I guess none of that matters. Chances are, I'll go, see some people, talk about the old times, exchange numbers and e-mail addresses and then never see them again. Just like High School. We'll keep in touch! Best Friends Forever!!
Seems like so long ago.
But I bet when I see the people I once held in such high regard, the valedictorian, the cheerleaders, the quarterback of the football team...I bet these people are just like me now. No hierarchy applies to the 10 year reunion. We are now all equal. Only, somehow, I feel like I have more to be proud of. It's like I was so insignificant in High School, and I did so much since...
I don't feel superior, just confident. Confident that I can go and be one of the group. One of the Class of 95. That's a good feeling. Not just a name.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
JMH
About 4 years back, I worked for a company called IKON. I'll give you a minute to scratch your heads, and try to figure out what IKON stands for and what kind of company they actually are.
Give up? Yeah, I thought so. IKON is an office solutions company, and a competitor of Xerox, a name we all know. What does IKON stand for...I Know One Name. Goofy, isn't it?
Anyway, while working for this company, I did a brief stint in the document center at Johnson Memorial Hospital. JMH wasn't a bad gig, really. A few copy jobs here and there, run around the hospital delivering mail. The best part, however, was the cafeteria, located right outside the door of the document center.
Ok, make your hospital food jokes now...feel better? Let's move on.
The food was actually pretty good, and it was right next door, so it was a doubly good thing. As my stint at the hospital grew longer, I began to experiment more with the exploration of the hospital. That's when the cafeteria gravy train stopped rolling.
Around the corner from the cafeteria was...the MORGUE!! Probably less than 50 feet away. My co-worker, knowing I didn't know my way around the building very well, and my disdain for the morgue, took me by it every chance she got, too.
I couldn't shake the image of the morgue being so close to my scrambled eggs...damn, now I won't be able to eat scrambled eggs, either.
Give up? Yeah, I thought so. IKON is an office solutions company, and a competitor of Xerox, a name we all know. What does IKON stand for...I Know One Name. Goofy, isn't it?
Anyway, while working for this company, I did a brief stint in the document center at Johnson Memorial Hospital. JMH wasn't a bad gig, really. A few copy jobs here and there, run around the hospital delivering mail. The best part, however, was the cafeteria, located right outside the door of the document center.
Ok, make your hospital food jokes now...feel better? Let's move on.
The food was actually pretty good, and it was right next door, so it was a doubly good thing. As my stint at the hospital grew longer, I began to experiment more with the exploration of the hospital. That's when the cafeteria gravy train stopped rolling.
Around the corner from the cafeteria was...the MORGUE!! Probably less than 50 feet away. My co-worker, knowing I didn't know my way around the building very well, and my disdain for the morgue, took me by it every chance she got, too.
I couldn't shake the image of the morgue being so close to my scrambled eggs...damn, now I won't be able to eat scrambled eggs, either.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Worst Gift Ever
Now that the holidays are over, I feel a bit of relief. No, I'm not finding comfort in the holidays being over, I'm finding it in the revelation that I did not receive any extremely crappy gifts this year. Ok, some may think the socks and underwear my mom buys me every year is a bad gift, but I, for one, think its a fabulous gift. Have you priced that stuff lately?
As far as bad gifts go, I received my WORST gift back in 1984.
When you're six years old, Christmas has a magical feeling. Santa Claus, presents, cookies and milk, you get the idea. My family would always open our gifts at home on Christmas Eve, and go to my grandma's on Christmas day.
I don't remember what great gifts my mom and dad bought me (ironic isn't it? Forget the good gifts, remember the bad.) but I do recall what was waiting for me when we went to my grandma's house. My brother, my cousin, Scott, and I all received...
THE MICHAEL JACKSON BELT.
Granted, Jackson was huge that year with the release of Thriller, but come on. I actually liked Michael Jackson, but still remember feeling like this was a crappy gift.
I never wore it.
Can you even imagine giving that gift to a six year old now? YIKES!!
As far as bad gifts go, I received my WORST gift back in 1984.
When you're six years old, Christmas has a magical feeling. Santa Claus, presents, cookies and milk, you get the idea. My family would always open our gifts at home on Christmas Eve, and go to my grandma's on Christmas day.
I don't remember what great gifts my mom and dad bought me (ironic isn't it? Forget the good gifts, remember the bad.) but I do recall what was waiting for me when we went to my grandma's house. My brother, my cousin, Scott, and I all received...
THE MICHAEL JACKSON BELT.
Granted, Jackson was huge that year with the release of Thriller, but come on. I actually liked Michael Jackson, but still remember feeling like this was a crappy gift.
I never wore it.
Can you even imagine giving that gift to a six year old now? YIKES!!
The Proof is in the Pudding
I heard someone say "The Proof is in the Pudding" the other day. What the hell does that mean? The proof of what is in the pudding? And, for that matter, how far into said pudding do we have to search to find proof?
I did a little research and found the origin. Don Quixote. "The Proof of the pudding is the eating." That, I get. But why, oh why is the proof now IN the pudding?
I don't need proof, I don't like to get my hands dirty.
I did a little research and found the origin. Don Quixote. "The Proof of the pudding is the eating." That, I get. But why, oh why is the proof now IN the pudding?
I don't need proof, I don't like to get my hands dirty.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Fruit Cup
My mom use to make a mixture of fruits called a "Fruit Salad." You know, take a bowl, cut up lots of fruits, and bingo-bango-boingo...Fruit Salad. I use to think she was crazy, and came up with this mixture on her own.
I guess it's a more widely used receipe than I had thought.
Becky and I went to Max and Erma's for dinner last night, and low and behold, the Fruit Cup. Becky ordered one, and I thought, "what could be better than a fruit cup?" That's when I remembered what was wrong with the Fruit Salad my mom use to make.
Apples.
You dice some tangerines, some pineapple, throw in some grapes...great, they all have a good flavor. Then you load it down with a flavorless fruit like the apple! What a load of crap! Those red apples, what are they Washington apples or something? Well, they have no flavor. And when the ratio is 4 to 1, apples over fruits with taste, the Fruit Cup is a dud!
Why would the primary fruit be the apple? I remember my mom would lay a plentiful portion of apples and bananas in her Fruit Salad, and you know what would happen? After about 2 days in the refrigerator, the apples and bananas would turn a lovely shade of brown, and no one would want to eat it anymore.
People, stop the madness! Add fruits that have taste, and that won't brown. If I would have had better tasting fruits in my mom's Fruit Salad...I may be in better shape today!!
I guess it's a more widely used receipe than I had thought.
Becky and I went to Max and Erma's for dinner last night, and low and behold, the Fruit Cup. Becky ordered one, and I thought, "what could be better than a fruit cup?" That's when I remembered what was wrong with the Fruit Salad my mom use to make.
Apples.
You dice some tangerines, some pineapple, throw in some grapes...great, they all have a good flavor. Then you load it down with a flavorless fruit like the apple! What a load of crap! Those red apples, what are they Washington apples or something? Well, they have no flavor. And when the ratio is 4 to 1, apples over fruits with taste, the Fruit Cup is a dud!
Why would the primary fruit be the apple? I remember my mom would lay a plentiful portion of apples and bananas in her Fruit Salad, and you know what would happen? After about 2 days in the refrigerator, the apples and bananas would turn a lovely shade of brown, and no one would want to eat it anymore.
People, stop the madness! Add fruits that have taste, and that won't brown. If I would have had better tasting fruits in my mom's Fruit Salad...I may be in better shape today!!
Thursday, December 30, 2004
The Fix Is In
If you thought I watched too much tv before, read on.
Becky and I watch a lot of Reality TV, and we have found something a bit suspicious. Could it be, the outcomes are predetermined? Let's look at the facts:
AMERICAN IDOL
Winners:
Season 1: Kelly Clarkson
Season 2: Ruben Studdard (who robbed Clay Aiken)
Season 3: Fantasia Barrino
Hum...Girl, Guy, Girl. I predict a Male winner from Season 4.
BIG BROTHER
Season 1: Eddie
Season 2: Will
Season 3: Lisa
Season 4: Jun
Season 5: Drew
Interesting...Guy, Guy, Girl, Girl, Guy. Again, I predict a Male winner on Season 6.
AMAZING RACE
Season 1: Rob and Brennan
Season 2: Chris and Alex
Season 3: Zach and Flo
Season 4: Reichen and Chip
Season 5: Chip and Kim
Ok, this is a little different because of the team concept. However...Male/Male, Male/Male, Male/Female, Male/Male, Male/Female...
What is interesting is this: Season 1 and 2, All Male. Season 3 = M/F. Season 4 was again M/M, but the contestants were the first Gay Couple to win. Season 5 was again M/F BUT there was only ONE, yes ONE All Male team. And, this couple was the first African-American Couple to win.
Diversity. Who will win 6? I predict a Woman/Woman, an Elderly Couple or an Asian Couple.
SURVIVOR
1: Richard Hatch - Borneo
2: Tina Wesson - Outback
3: Ethan Zohn - Africa
4: Vecepia Towery - Marquesas
5: Brian Heidik - Thailand
6: Jenna Morasca - Amazon
7: Sandra Diaz-Twine - Panama
8: Amber Brkich - All Star
9: Chris Daugherty - Vanautu
Man, Woman, Man, Woman, Man, Woman, Woman, Woman, Man
They mixed it up a little, But if you throw in Rupert (who won a Million on All-Stars for being the Most Loved Player) you have 5 Men, and 5 Women taking home the top prize.
Interesting split.
I predict a Man will win #10.
APPRENTICE
Season 1: Bill Rancic
Season 2: Kelly Perdew
See? Man, Woman...oh. wait, Kelly was a Man, too? Ok, Man, Man...but I predict #3 will be a Woman...and #4.
AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL
1: Adrianne
2: Yoanna
3: Eva
Woman, Woman, Woman...Geez, why hasn't a guy won this? Still, I predict UPN will crown a Woman in Season 4...and, to go out on a limb, I predict a woman in Season 5 as well...call me crazy!!
So there you have it... draw your own conclusions, but I think there is a fix in Reality Land.
Becky and I watch a lot of Reality TV, and we have found something a bit suspicious. Could it be, the outcomes are predetermined? Let's look at the facts:
AMERICAN IDOL
Winners:
Season 1: Kelly Clarkson
Season 2: Ruben Studdard (who robbed Clay Aiken)
Season 3: Fantasia Barrino
Hum...Girl, Guy, Girl. I predict a Male winner from Season 4.
BIG BROTHER
Season 1: Eddie
Season 2: Will
Season 3: Lisa
Season 4: Jun
Season 5: Drew
Interesting...Guy, Guy, Girl, Girl, Guy. Again, I predict a Male winner on Season 6.
AMAZING RACE
Season 1: Rob and Brennan
Season 2: Chris and Alex
Season 3: Zach and Flo
Season 4: Reichen and Chip
Season 5: Chip and Kim
Ok, this is a little different because of the team concept. However...Male/Male, Male/Male, Male/Female, Male/Male, Male/Female...
What is interesting is this: Season 1 and 2, All Male. Season 3 = M/F. Season 4 was again M/M, but the contestants were the first Gay Couple to win. Season 5 was again M/F BUT there was only ONE, yes ONE All Male team. And, this couple was the first African-American Couple to win.
Diversity. Who will win 6? I predict a Woman/Woman, an Elderly Couple or an Asian Couple.
SURVIVOR
1: Richard Hatch - Borneo
2: Tina Wesson - Outback
3: Ethan Zohn - Africa
4: Vecepia Towery - Marquesas
5: Brian Heidik - Thailand
6: Jenna Morasca - Amazon
7: Sandra Diaz-Twine - Panama
8: Amber Brkich - All Star
9: Chris Daugherty - Vanautu
Man, Woman, Man, Woman, Man, Woman, Woman, Woman, Man
They mixed it up a little, But if you throw in Rupert (who won a Million on All-Stars for being the Most Loved Player) you have 5 Men, and 5 Women taking home the top prize.
Interesting split.
I predict a Man will win #10.
APPRENTICE
Season 1: Bill Rancic
Season 2: Kelly Perdew
See? Man, Woman...oh. wait, Kelly was a Man, too? Ok, Man, Man...but I predict #3 will be a Woman...and #4.
AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL
1: Adrianne
2: Yoanna
3: Eva
Woman, Woman, Woman...Geez, why hasn't a guy won this? Still, I predict UPN will crown a Woman in Season 4...and, to go out on a limb, I predict a woman in Season 5 as well...call me crazy!!
So there you have it... draw your own conclusions, but I think there is a fix in Reality Land.
Monday, December 27, 2004
Honorable Mentions
A few Honorable Mentions in the "TV Wives Who Married Down" contest.
Grounded For Life
Megyn Price
...and her tv husband...
Donal Logue
The Simpsons
Marge Simpson
...and her tv husband...
Homer J. Simpson
Grounded For Life
Megyn Price
...and her tv husband...
Donal Logue
The Simpsons
Marge Simpson
...and her tv husband...
Homer J. Simpson
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
TOP 5 TV WIVES WHO MARRIED DOWN
Over the past several years, I have noticed a trend in television. Yes, there are more Reality Shows, but the trend I am talking about isn't the sprouting of unpaid people eating bugs, but rather the Un-Realistic coupling of today's tv couples.
It seems that the women on tv are always super hot, and the husbands are, to be blunt, schlubs. Here is my Top 5 TV Wives Who Married Down...
#5: Tie: Yes, Dear and According to Jim.
Yes, Dear
Jean Louisa Kelly
...and her tv husband...
Anthony Clark
As you can see, Jean Louisa is not a bad catch. Anthony Clarke, however, is a dork. On the show, he is also a whiny little girl. An obvious "downgrade" for Miss Kelly.
According to Jim
Courtney Thorne-Smith
...and her tv husband...
Jim Belushi
Jim Belushi isn't a bad looking guy, and his brother was the ultra cool John Belushi, but I still think we have a mis-match here.
#4: Listen Up!
Wendy Makkena
...and her tv husband...
Jason Alexander
Love ya, George Costanza, but you don't deserve Ms Makkena.
#3: Everybody Loves Raymond
Patricia Heaton
...and her tv husband...
Ray Romano
This is a no brainer. Patricia Heaton is not only one sexy momma, but Ray is a doofus who plays golf, neglects the kids, and basically, does nothing!! She definately married down!!
#2: King of Queens
Leah Remini
...and her tv husband...
Kevin James
Kevin, oh, Kevin. You are one of the funniest guys I have every seen, but you do not deserve Leah Remini. Just look at the picture!!! Smokin'.
#1: Still Standing
Jami Gertz
...and her tv husband...
Mark Addy
I want to say Leah Remini is better looking than Jami Gertz...but I just can't. And look at the husband!! I would take Kevin James over Mark Addy...if I was a girl, of course.
Congrats, Jami Gertz, you settled WAY too low. You could have done much better!!
It seems that the women on tv are always super hot, and the husbands are, to be blunt, schlubs. Here is my Top 5 TV Wives Who Married Down...
#5: Tie: Yes, Dear and According to Jim.
Yes, Dear
Jean Louisa Kelly
...and her tv husband...
Anthony Clark
As you can see, Jean Louisa is not a bad catch. Anthony Clarke, however, is a dork. On the show, he is also a whiny little girl. An obvious "downgrade" for Miss Kelly.
According to Jim
Courtney Thorne-Smith
...and her tv husband...
Jim Belushi
Jim Belushi isn't a bad looking guy, and his brother was the ultra cool John Belushi, but I still think we have a mis-match here.
#4: Listen Up!
Wendy Makkena
...and her tv husband...
Jason Alexander
Love ya, George Costanza, but you don't deserve Ms Makkena.
#3: Everybody Loves Raymond
Patricia Heaton
...and her tv husband...
Ray Romano
This is a no brainer. Patricia Heaton is not only one sexy momma, but Ray is a doofus who plays golf, neglects the kids, and basically, does nothing!! She definately married down!!
#2: King of Queens
Leah Remini
...and her tv husband...
Kevin James
Kevin, oh, Kevin. You are one of the funniest guys I have every seen, but you do not deserve Leah Remini. Just look at the picture!!! Smokin'.
#1: Still Standing
Jami Gertz
...and her tv husband...
Mark Addy
I want to say Leah Remini is better looking than Jami Gertz...but I just can't. And look at the husband!! I would take Kevin James over Mark Addy...if I was a girl, of course.
Congrats, Jami Gertz, you settled WAY too low. You could have done much better!!
Friday, December 17, 2004
SOLD!!
That last post...the one about the Sebring for sale...yeah, forget that.
It's gone. Good riddance. I liked the car, but the "problems" were so overbearing. It was time. The saddest part was that I didn't even have the car long enough to bond with it. Yes, I bond with my cars. Haven't you ever named your car? Well, the Sebring didn't get a name.
(The Escort I had before that, for, like 10 years, was affectionately dubbed Betsy...just in case you were curious.)
Becky and I travelled down the road in our PT Cruiser (Becky's car) looking for a replacement for the Sebring, which sat, dead, in the driveway. We stopped a few places...saw some overpriced cars (2004 Mustang Convertible for 28,000? YIKES!!) and finally ended up at Fletcher Chrsyler.
Here's the condensed story on our dealings with Fletcher Chysler.
We bought the PT Cruiser there. A year later, we bought the Sebring there. The Sebring, as I have mentioned in the past postings, was, for the most past, a turd. The battery had to be charged a week after we got it, and 4 months later, the battery was replaced all together. I called Fletcher up, and they said,
"It's past the 3 month warranty, sorry, nothing we can do."
Nothing we can do? How about treating your repeat customers with some respect and at least looking at the car. I should have known that's how they operate. When we bought the Sebring, it had new rims, and the dealer rims were in the trunk, and they were part of the deal. When we picked the car up...the rims were gone. We eventually got them back, but, come on.
So, we stopped anyway. I have a knack for wanting to trust people who are not to be trusted. Becky kept the car warm, as I wandered inside to inquire on a newer Sebring. Why another Sebring? You try to find a cheap convertible!!
The salesman quoted a few prices, $11,000 for the '01...$18,000 for the '04...then he pointed in the direction of the PT Cruiser Convertibles...
Becky and I had tried to get one in the summer, but they were $32,000 and $600 a month. OUCH!! But here we stood, on the USED car lot, staring at a PT Convertible.
I won't tell you how much the car was, but let's say it was about half the cost of the new one. I grabbed Becky, and we hashed out a deal. It was a good one, too. We shook hands and agreed to bring the Sebring to him the next day.
One problem...the Sebring was dead in the driveway, it was 8:30 pm, we still had to eat dinner, and the CAR WAS DEAD!! We drove our dueling PT Cruisers back towards Columbus (yes, we took the new car home...I had to have something to drive to work!!) and made the plan.
We could either replace the battery or charge it. Since Auto Zone was probably closed, and I didn't find taking the tire off and changing the battery in 20 degree weather appealing, we opted for the charge. (Plus, it was a good chance to stick a crap battery on the people who stuck me with a crap battery.)
We ate, and I headed towards the 'Burg for my dad's charger. 10:00pm, 30 minutes one way. Oh, well. I got the charger, got back home and hooked the car up. The key locks worked, so I knew we were in business. I would leave it on over night, and all would be well.
This is the part where all was not well.
After charging for 18 HOURS, I unhooked the battery charger at 5:00pm the following day, cranked the engine, and...nothing....zero....zilch...NAAKA!!
I frantically started to tear the tire off the car, determined to replace the battery and make it to the appointment we set for 6:30pm. I got the tire off, pulled the flap in the wheel well off, and I heard the door unlock. "What the ...?"
It seems all I needed to do was wiggle the wires. I got up, cranked the car, and it was alive. I left it running (for fear it would never start again) as I replaced the flap and the tire. I washed up, and we headed off.
On the way to Franklin, I talked to my Sebring, begging for it to start "one more time" so the dealer would give the green light. I even named the car on that last trip...Goldie (the car was gold colored.)
We listened to "Daughters" by John Mayer, and "Lady" by Lenny Kravitz...and together, we made it to the dealer. Funny part was, the dealer didn't even try to start Goldie. I guess they had faith that if I could drive it there, it would start again. Suckers!!
After we signed the papers, it didn't matter if they could start it or not. At that point, there would be "nothing I could do."
It's gone. Good riddance. I liked the car, but the "problems" were so overbearing. It was time. The saddest part was that I didn't even have the car long enough to bond with it. Yes, I bond with my cars. Haven't you ever named your car? Well, the Sebring didn't get a name.
(The Escort I had before that, for, like 10 years, was affectionately dubbed Betsy...just in case you were curious.)
Becky and I travelled down the road in our PT Cruiser (Becky's car) looking for a replacement for the Sebring, which sat, dead, in the driveway. We stopped a few places...saw some overpriced cars (2004 Mustang Convertible for 28,000? YIKES!!) and finally ended up at Fletcher Chrsyler.
Here's the condensed story on our dealings with Fletcher Chysler.
We bought the PT Cruiser there. A year later, we bought the Sebring there. The Sebring, as I have mentioned in the past postings, was, for the most past, a turd. The battery had to be charged a week after we got it, and 4 months later, the battery was replaced all together. I called Fletcher up, and they said,
"It's past the 3 month warranty, sorry, nothing we can do."
Nothing we can do? How about treating your repeat customers with some respect and at least looking at the car. I should have known that's how they operate. When we bought the Sebring, it had new rims, and the dealer rims were in the trunk, and they were part of the deal. When we picked the car up...the rims were gone. We eventually got them back, but, come on.
So, we stopped anyway. I have a knack for wanting to trust people who are not to be trusted. Becky kept the car warm, as I wandered inside to inquire on a newer Sebring. Why another Sebring? You try to find a cheap convertible!!
The salesman quoted a few prices, $11,000 for the '01...$18,000 for the '04...then he pointed in the direction of the PT Cruiser Convertibles...
Becky and I had tried to get one in the summer, but they were $32,000 and $600 a month. OUCH!! But here we stood, on the USED car lot, staring at a PT Convertible.
I won't tell you how much the car was, but let's say it was about half the cost of the new one. I grabbed Becky, and we hashed out a deal. It was a good one, too. We shook hands and agreed to bring the Sebring to him the next day.
One problem...the Sebring was dead in the driveway, it was 8:30 pm, we still had to eat dinner, and the CAR WAS DEAD!! We drove our dueling PT Cruisers back towards Columbus (yes, we took the new car home...I had to have something to drive to work!!) and made the plan.
We could either replace the battery or charge it. Since Auto Zone was probably closed, and I didn't find taking the tire off and changing the battery in 20 degree weather appealing, we opted for the charge. (Plus, it was a good chance to stick a crap battery on the people who stuck me with a crap battery.)
We ate, and I headed towards the 'Burg for my dad's charger. 10:00pm, 30 minutes one way. Oh, well. I got the charger, got back home and hooked the car up. The key locks worked, so I knew we were in business. I would leave it on over night, and all would be well.
This is the part where all was not well.
After charging for 18 HOURS, I unhooked the battery charger at 5:00pm the following day, cranked the engine, and...nothing....zero....zilch...NAAKA!!
I frantically started to tear the tire off the car, determined to replace the battery and make it to the appointment we set for 6:30pm. I got the tire off, pulled the flap in the wheel well off, and I heard the door unlock. "What the ...?"
It seems all I needed to do was wiggle the wires. I got up, cranked the car, and it was alive. I left it running (for fear it would never start again) as I replaced the flap and the tire. I washed up, and we headed off.
On the way to Franklin, I talked to my Sebring, begging for it to start "one more time" so the dealer would give the green light. I even named the car on that last trip...Goldie (the car was gold colored.)
We listened to "Daughters" by John Mayer, and "Lady" by Lenny Kravitz...and together, we made it to the dealer. Funny part was, the dealer didn't even try to start Goldie. I guess they had faith that if I could drive it there, it would start again. Suckers!!
After we signed the papers, it didn't matter if they could start it or not. At that point, there would be "nothing I could do."
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
97 Sebring Convertible For Sale
Why is it that things go wrong when you really don't want things to go wrong? You know what I'm saying...
...the A/C doesn't break down when it's "fairly hot", it breaks down on the hottest day of the year...
...the transmission doesn't drop right after you get your tax check, it drops when you are dead broke...
Things like that.
Well, after my interview, I got back to work in Columbus. At the end of the day...the car was dead. I jumped it, ran it for about 25 minutes, and went home. I hit the power lock and nothing happened...this is, keep in mind, right after I turned the car off. I put the key back into the ignition and turned it. Dead.
This happens every year. Right when it gets cold...really cold. I end up walking to work. NOT FUN. Couldn't have happened in the summer, could it? And gas is only $1.59. Would have been nice to lose the car when gas was $2.00 a gallon, but no!!
The first year I got the car, I had to replace the battery. The next year I again had to replace the battery...twice. I had the alternator checked, and it was fine. I had the connections and the wires checked, and they were fine.
What's draining the battery? At this point, I don't care. Three years, 4 batteries?
My buddy said to replace the wires...I told him I'm going to replace the car.
Anybody want a 97 Sebring Convertible?
...the A/C doesn't break down when it's "fairly hot", it breaks down on the hottest day of the year...
...the transmission doesn't drop right after you get your tax check, it drops when you are dead broke...
Things like that.
Well, after my interview, I got back to work in Columbus. At the end of the day...the car was dead. I jumped it, ran it for about 25 minutes, and went home. I hit the power lock and nothing happened...this is, keep in mind, right after I turned the car off. I put the key back into the ignition and turned it. Dead.
This happens every year. Right when it gets cold...really cold. I end up walking to work. NOT FUN. Couldn't have happened in the summer, could it? And gas is only $1.59. Would have been nice to lose the car when gas was $2.00 a gallon, but no!!
The first year I got the car, I had to replace the battery. The next year I again had to replace the battery...twice. I had the alternator checked, and it was fine. I had the connections and the wires checked, and they were fine.
What's draining the battery? At this point, I don't care. Three years, 4 batteries?
My buddy said to replace the wires...I told him I'm going to replace the car.
Anybody want a 97 Sebring Convertible?
Job Interview
I had a job interview the other day with Cummins Engine Company. If you know anything about Columbus, Indiana, you know about Cummins. My dad works there, and has for a long time. As he put it a few years back, "25 down, 25 to go."
The interview was in Seymour, 20 miles away. No biggie, except I had to get up a lot earlier than I normally do. I'm not much of a morning person, but I managed. When I arrived, I was taken to a small room and questioned, poked, prodded, attacked...
It was two and a half hours of tourture.
Ok, so it wasn't torture. I had three seperate interviews, and each time the people asked me the same questions.
"Tell me about a time when you multi-tasked in order to ... blah, blah, blah."
Of course, I totally went into Saleman voice mode...
"Well, Mr. Jones, I'm glad you asked that...."
I think overall, the interviews went fairly well, but I won't know anything for awhile.
The interview was in Seymour, 20 miles away. No biggie, except I had to get up a lot earlier than I normally do. I'm not much of a morning person, but I managed. When I arrived, I was taken to a small room and questioned, poked, prodded, attacked...
It was two and a half hours of tourture.
Ok, so it wasn't torture. I had three seperate interviews, and each time the people asked me the same questions.
"Tell me about a time when you multi-tasked in order to ... blah, blah, blah."
Of course, I totally went into Saleman voice mode...
"Well, Mr. Jones, I'm glad you asked that...."
I think overall, the interviews went fairly well, but I won't know anything for awhile.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Ain't the English Language Fun?
Becky and I were at lunch today, and the topic of conversation turned to what we were going to make for dinner. (Yes, it does indeed take a special person to talk about a FUTURE meal, while consuming a CURRENT one.) We then realized we neglected to get anything out of the freezer, and thusly, all of our choices would be frozen.
This is where the conversation took a philosophical turn.
"I will dethaw the hamburger when we get home." Becky began. "Or is it thaw?"
Wow, I thought dethaw sounded right, but why would you de-thaw something? Wouldn't that mean you were actually freezing it? De meaning un. Or is that even right?
We pondered that for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that "thaw" was a funny sounding word.
Anyhoo, according to Dictionary.com, both thaw and dethaw mean the same thing. I won't bore you with the dictionary definition, but it was basically "changing from solid to liquid."
Just another example of how difficult we make our language. I personally still like the conversations my dad and I had about the word regardless, and his struggle to convince me that irregardless or regardless both could be used.
(NOTE: from dictionary.com
"Irregardless is a word that many mistakenly believe to be correct usage in formal style, when in fact it is used chiefly in nonstandard speech or casual writing. Coined in the United States in the early 20th century, it has met with a blizzard of condemnation for being an improper yoking of irrespective and regardless and for the logical absurdity of combining the negative ir- prefix and -less suffix in a single term.")
So, there.
This is where the conversation took a philosophical turn.
"I will dethaw the hamburger when we get home." Becky began. "Or is it thaw?"
Wow, I thought dethaw sounded right, but why would you de-thaw something? Wouldn't that mean you were actually freezing it? De meaning un. Or is that even right?
We pondered that for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that "thaw" was a funny sounding word.
Anyhoo, according to Dictionary.com, both thaw and dethaw mean the same thing. I won't bore you with the dictionary definition, but it was basically "changing from solid to liquid."
Just another example of how difficult we make our language. I personally still like the conversations my dad and I had about the word regardless, and his struggle to convince me that irregardless or regardless both could be used.
(NOTE: from dictionary.com
"Irregardless is a word that many mistakenly believe to be correct usage in formal style, when in fact it is used chiefly in nonstandard speech or casual writing. Coined in the United States in the early 20th century, it has met with a blizzard of condemnation for being an improper yoking of irrespective and regardless and for the logical absurdity of combining the negative ir- prefix and -less suffix in a single term.")
So, there.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Move Over, Einstein
The dream is over.
Jeopardy champion, Ken Jennings, has been defeated. Tuesday night, Jennings lost to California Real Estate agent, Nancy Zerg.
Here are the Ken Jennings stats:
$2,520,700 in prize winnings
74 wins
Average of: $34,063.51 per show
$75,000 in one game
2,700 + correct answers given
150 contestants defeated
Zerg defeated Jennings in Final Jeopardy. Zerg ended with 14,001 to Jennings 8,799.
The Final Jeopardy Awswer:
Most of this firm's 70,000 seasonal white-collar employees work only four months a year.
What is H&R Block?
Zerg answered correctly, Jennings wrote Fed Ex.
At least she beat him by getting the question correctly. (too bad Ken lost 10,000 on blotched Daily Doubles).
For his troubles, H&R Block offered Jennings free lifetime tax help, which he graciously accepted. Their first task? How much taxes would be taken out of the enourmous prize.
Answer: $1.04 million.
After the show, Jennings said: "I'm actually cheering for somebody to beat my record. How cool would that be? But, realistically, I don't think there's much of a chance ... So many lucky things had to happen. Everything had to fall the right way."
Well, let's just hope Nancy Zerg isn't a fluke, and can actually carry the torch for a few games. Is she still on there? Maybe she lost last night, I don't know, without Ken, I have no reason to watch.
(SIDE NOTE: I would like to add a BOO to channel 13...the station which airs Jeopardy...for it's poor placement of advertising. Alex told the contestants that the Final Jeopardy catergory was Business and Industry, and then the station took a commercial break. The last commercial before the show came back on was a promo for the News at 11. The segment they featured?
"Tonight we talk with Ken Jennings about his run on Jeopardy."
Why not just say, Ken losses tonight on Jeopardy? That was poor.)
Monday, November 29, 2004
Battle at the Palace
November 19, 2004
Being from Indiana, I would be remiss if I did not comment on the "Pacers/Pistons Brawl" just over a week ago. I know a lot of you are tired of reading about, hearing about, or seeing the incident...if so, skip this post. But if you want my two cents on it...in depth, read on.
I have done a little research in order to put myself in David Stern's shoes. How would I have handled the situation? After reviewing the tapes (numerous times), brushing up on past incidents, and waiting a week (to weed away any predjudice I may have), I have concluded the following:
Let's start at the beginning.
A little under a minute in the game, Artest fouls Ben Wallace.
Artest faces Wallace and starts to extend his right hand towards the Pistons Center, as if to say, "No hard feelings," and Wallace answers by giving Artest a two-handed-Elaine from Seinfeld-push to Artest's chest and face (one hand struck Artest in the nose.)
Artest makes a point, as he is retreating from the situation, to ask the ref if his foul was a "flagrant foul." The ref responded "no."
After this Artest laid on the scorer's table. Because Reggie Miller, Chauncey Billups, Derrick Coleman, and Elden Campbell left the bench after the initial shove, they are automatically suspended one game.
This is where things get hairy, and hard to sort out.
Both benches emptied...Stephen Jackson taunted the Pistons, looking as if he was ready to "throw down"...Wallace throws a towel at Artest...and then the "cup" is thrown from the crowd, hitting Artest in the chest/face.
Artest entered the stands, and made a bee line towards a shouting Piston fan. His left arm swooped down, grabbing the fan and throwing him to the ground. I never saw Artest "hit" this guy, just throw him to the ground. In fact, the fan even said after the game:
"He was on top of me," fan Mike Ryan of Clarkston said. "He asked me, 'Did you do it?' I said, 'No, man. No!'"
Of course, a joker who threw a drink in Artest's face next wasn't so lucky, as Stephen Jackson clocked him with a roundhouse right.
The fan who actually threw the "cup" igniting the brawl, is next seen grabbing Artest from behind and throwing a series of punches to the back of his head. Several players (Rasheed Wallace, etc.) enter the stands and pull the players out.
As Security is trying to help in the stands, several fans enter the court. One of them, a man in a Pistons jersey, approached Artest on the court, shouting at him. Artest punched him in the face, knocking the man to the floor before leaving the court. Artest was pulled away, and the fan charged back. Jermaine O'Neal stepped in and punched another man who joined the scrum.
More craziness ensues, a chair is thrown, and the Pacers are doused with coke, popcorn and other concessions as the exit they court.
The League hands down the following suspensions:
Ron Artest: Out for Season (73 games)
Jackson: 30 games
O'Neal: 25 games
Ben Wallace: 6 games
(Anthony Johnson - 5, Reggie Miller - 1, Chauncey Billups - 1, Derrick Coleman - 1, Elden Campbell -1).
Are these penalties fair?
Ben Wallace
At first, I was shocked he ONLY received a 6 game suspension. But, here's some additional information:
In last year's playoffs, Anthony Peeler connected with an elbow to Kevin Garnett's face: Suspended 1 game, plus $7,500.
In 1996, Dennis Rodman was suspended 6 games for head butting a ref.
Seems like 6 was excessive...HOWEVER, I believe hard fouls, like the one Artest gave Wallace, are a dime a dozen in the NBA, and the main cause of the "riot" was Wallace's actions.
The push, the throwing of the towel, and the irrational behavior after having been ejected from the game (which I think was the main contributor of the "riot"), in my opinion should have warranted a longer suspension.
Commissioner Gillespie hands down the following:
Ben Wallace - suspended for 10 games.
Reason: Instigating a "riot", shoving a player in the face/chest, not leaving the playing area immediately upon being ejected, throwing a towel.
Stephen Jackson
If any one player was LOOKING for a fight, it seemed to be Stephen Jackson. His conduct from the start was of the "non-peacekeeping" kind. Before Artest went into the stands, he was verbally confronting the Pistons...then he squared up like he was ready to fight and pulled his jersey out of his shorts. And, of course, he wailed on many a Piston fan in the stands.
30 games. There really is no president to go by for Jackson's actions. But, I'll try. Throwing a punch to a player (whether it lands or not) is an automatic one game suspension.
A few years back, Shaq was suspended 3 games and fined $15,000 when he threw two roundhouse punches at Brad Miller.
Marcus Camby of the Knicks received a 5 game suspension for sucker punching Danny Ferry.
And who could forget Kermit Washington's roundhouse right on Rudy Tomjanovich in 1977? It left Rudy T's face shattered, and his career over. The suspension? 26 games.
Of course, these are all attacks on other players. Jackson went into the stands, and hit fans.
Commissioner Gillespie hands down the following:
Stephen Jackson - suspended for 15 games.
Reason: taunting, entering the stands, punching fans, not keeping the peace.
Jermaine O'Neal
What, really, did Jermaine do? He didn't enter the stands. He didn't taunt any players. He didn't punch or try to punch and players. What he did do is come to the aid of Ron Artest when a fan started cracking wise out on the court. Ok, I agree, "coming to the aid" isn't exactly what he was doing, but still, I consider this 25 game suspension ridiculous. In football, if a fan enters the field of play, they are fair game. A lineman is welcome to run over them.
I also heard a story on the radio in the days after the "brawl" about wrestling. A caller who wrestles in a semi professional federation, said that if a fan comes from the audience and tries to interject into the match (be it in the ring, or in the area of the ring) the wrestlers have the right to dispense pain upon that fan. One time, a fan came out of the stands, and BOTH wrestlers in the match stopped wrestling, and began beating the guy silly. The caller went on to say: "I pulled the guys arms backwards until they snapped." Suspension? Fines? Nope.
The closest I could find was a 1997 suspension handed to Dennis Rodman for kicking a photographer. He was suspended for 11 games. (the photographer was NOT on the court, but close.)
Commissioner Gillespie hands down the following:
Jermaine O'Neal - 3 game suspension
Reason: It looks bad on the game if players are hitting fans.
Ron Artest
Hard foul...eh. He was trying to make peace with Wallace afterwards which resulted in his being pushed harder than the foul. Then, he backed away. Sure he was arrogant in laying down, but he was calm and level headed. He showed a little temper when the towel was thrown. Still, no problem. Then, the cup flew.
He entered the stands...that should gain a suspension. But how long?
Back before televised games, Jerry Sloan, now the Head coach of the Jazz, was hit with an aerosol can while in a huddle. He entered the stands and began screaming at the fan. Suspension? None.
In 1995, Vernon Maxwell of the Houston Rockets entered the stands and PUNCHED a fan that was heckling him. Suspension? 10 games.
10 GAMES!!
Artest didn't even hit that first guy. Watch the tape. He grabbed him with his left hand and threw him down. He didn't even make a fist. Even after the guy was down he didn't make a fist. He yelled at him "did you do it?" and then other fans grabbed him and began hitting hin. I didn't really see him hit any of those fans. Maybe he was swinging his arms to get away, maybe he was punching them...it's hard to tell. I would call that "self defense".
Of course, we can't argue he hit the fan on the floor. But again, on the floor, fair game.
Commissioner Gillespie hands down the following:
Ron Artest - suspened for 15 games.
Reason: 10 for going into the stands (ala Maxwell), and 5 for the fighting. Remember, there was no FLAGRANT FOUL.
All the one game suspensions stand (the rule of leaving the bench is the rule...even though every body eventually left the bench). Anthony Johnson's 5 games...I really don't know what he did, I didn't see him.
If you think my penalties are too lax, think about this:
A few years back, Latrell Spreewell "Physically Assaulted" his then coach, PJ Carlesimo. Spreewell grabbed his coach by the throat and proceeded to choke him. That's assault...that's battery...that's attempted murder...that's a 68 GAME SUSPENSION!!
And Artest gets 73?
The brawl was unpresidented in the NBA, and Stern wanted to set an example. But, I disagree with the severity. Commissoner Stern said:
“I did not strike from my mind the fact that Ron Artest had been suspended on previous conditions..."
Artest hadn't been suspended for over two seasons...and most of his other suspensions were for Flagrant fouls...not fighting. Let's make an example out of this "Bad Seed". That is the biggest injustice of them all. Artest had made HUGE strides in the past few seasons to shed his bad boy image.
You may say the brawl wouldn't have started if not for the Artest foul, or Artest going into the stands. You are wrong. Fouls, hard fouls happen on a regular basis. Pushing, like Wallace did, happens. People throwing things at players? When was the last time that happened?
I couldn't find a time.
It's the Detroit fans, and Ben Wallace who are to blame. Wallace could have handled himself better...he didn't need to push, but he did...ok. But then, he should have left, period. The fans would have booed, the clock would have clicked down, and the game would have been over.
Commissioner Gillespie has spoken.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Honesty...Honestly!!
How hard is it to be honest?
"I did not chop down that cherry tree." Ok, Mr Washington, I believe you.
"The British are coming!! The British are coming!!" Paul Revere, thank you for your honesty.
"I did not have sexual relations with that woman." Mr Clinton...ok, so two out of three isn't that bad.
Across the street from where I work is a store called My Dollar Store, which advertises, right on the sign, "Always Just $1." You go inside, and once again, you are bombarded with signs saying everything $1 or less. Everything. The cashiers even use to greet me with the same line:
"Good Morning, everything in the store is a dollar or less!"
I use to like to go over there every once in awhile and go down the aisles, looking at the $1 tools (not that I'm that handy, but it seems like a good price for a saw) and the $1 medicine cabinet items. It set my mind at ease to know that, indeed, everything was $1. Then I would buy my soda and maybe some .50 cent cookies (the cookies are Famous Amos, not the rapper...that's Fiddy cent).
Well, all of that changed today. I walked next door and right as I stepped in, directly next to the cash register, was a sign that screamed out at me...
EVERYTHING IN THIS AISLE OVER $1
What the hell? Over $1, in the Everything is $1 Store? I glanced down at the picture frames, fancy plates, and the ugliest wooden lamp I have ever seen (for $20, no less!!). I was appalled!
"Did you see our new over $1 section?" the cashier asked.
"Don't you think that's false advertisement?" I shot back.
"Well, people buy it."
I picked up a $5 wooden duck on a stick, shook my head, and looked at the cashier again.
"This is how you guys are gonna do it, huh?" I started. The cashier looked puzzled.
I continued, starting to get a little irritated: "You start out by having everything $1. You build a pretty nice clientele, a lot of regulars start to surface, then you start integrating OVER $1 items in with the cheap stuff. People think, 'oh, that's nice, and it's only a couple dollars more.' Once they agree to that, then everything starts raising in price, til it's no longer My Dollar Store, it's My $20 Store."
The cashier stared at me for a few seconds, and then, as calmly as could be, said,
"Well, you don't have to buy any of it. Just get soda and cookies."
Suddenly, I wasn't irate anymore. I laughed...she made a good point. I guess I let the principle of the whole deal cloud my better judgment. I always do that.
And besides, how could a store stay in business by selling just $1 items?
"I did not chop down that cherry tree." Ok, Mr Washington, I believe you.
"The British are coming!! The British are coming!!" Paul Revere, thank you for your honesty.
"I did not have sexual relations with that woman." Mr Clinton...ok, so two out of three isn't that bad.
Across the street from where I work is a store called My Dollar Store, which advertises, right on the sign, "Always Just $1." You go inside, and once again, you are bombarded with signs saying everything $1 or less. Everything. The cashiers even use to greet me with the same line:
"Good Morning, everything in the store is a dollar or less!"
I use to like to go over there every once in awhile and go down the aisles, looking at the $1 tools (not that I'm that handy, but it seems like a good price for a saw) and the $1 medicine cabinet items. It set my mind at ease to know that, indeed, everything was $1. Then I would buy my soda and maybe some .50 cent cookies (the cookies are Famous Amos, not the rapper...that's Fiddy cent).
Well, all of that changed today. I walked next door and right as I stepped in, directly next to the cash register, was a sign that screamed out at me...
EVERYTHING IN THIS AISLE OVER $1
What the hell? Over $1, in the Everything is $1 Store? I glanced down at the picture frames, fancy plates, and the ugliest wooden lamp I have ever seen (for $20, no less!!). I was appalled!
"Did you see our new over $1 section?" the cashier asked.
"Don't you think that's false advertisement?" I shot back.
"Well, people buy it."
I picked up a $5 wooden duck on a stick, shook my head, and looked at the cashier again.
"This is how you guys are gonna do it, huh?" I started. The cashier looked puzzled.
I continued, starting to get a little irritated: "You start out by having everything $1. You build a pretty nice clientele, a lot of regulars start to surface, then you start integrating OVER $1 items in with the cheap stuff. People think, 'oh, that's nice, and it's only a couple dollars more.' Once they agree to that, then everything starts raising in price, til it's no longer My Dollar Store, it's My $20 Store."
The cashier stared at me for a few seconds, and then, as calmly as could be, said,
"Well, you don't have to buy any of it. Just get soda and cookies."
Suddenly, I wasn't irate anymore. I laughed...she made a good point. I guess I let the principle of the whole deal cloud my better judgment. I always do that.
And besides, how could a store stay in business by selling just $1 items?
Monday, November 15, 2004
Sushi BBQ
Coming out of lunch today, I noticed a sign across the street for a new Japanese Restaurant. "Sushi BBQ". If Sushi is RAW fish, then how, possibly, could it be barbequed?
Becky offered a suggestion.
"Maybe it's sushi with barbeque sauce on it."
I contend that in order to have your food BARBEQUED, you have to have it cooked on a grill. Cooked being the key word here. The sauce is just a flavoring, which is necessary, but not the key component.
"Well, if you get chicken with barbeque sauce on it, what do you call it?" Becky asks.
"I call it Barbequed Chicken." I reply.
"What if it wasn't cooked on a grill?"
"Well, at least it was cooked!!"
Regardless of what an item with barbeque sauce is called, I contend it must be cooked to be barbequed. Sushi cannot be barbequed, period.
Plus, who would want barbeque sauce on fish anyway? YUCK!!
Becky offered a suggestion.
"Maybe it's sushi with barbeque sauce on it."
I contend that in order to have your food BARBEQUED, you have to have it cooked on a grill. Cooked being the key word here. The sauce is just a flavoring, which is necessary, but not the key component.
"Well, if you get chicken with barbeque sauce on it, what do you call it?" Becky asks.
"I call it Barbequed Chicken." I reply.
"What if it wasn't cooked on a grill?"
"Well, at least it was cooked!!"
Regardless of what an item with barbeque sauce is called, I contend it must be cooked to be barbequed. Sushi cannot be barbequed, period.
Plus, who would want barbeque sauce on fish anyway? YUCK!!
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
My Apologies
Sorry for that last post. I think I am delirious from lack of sleep these last two days. Please read at you own risk!!
Do I Look Like An Indian To You?
Everybody has one, or has had one in their lifetime. Before you go off the deep end with sexually explicit innuendos (sicko perverts!!) let me clarify. At some point we have all had a nickname. (Wow, what were YOU thinking!!)
What I can't figure out is why guys get so creative with nicknames, and girls are so blah. For example, Tiffany becomes Tiff, or Barbara become Barb. YAWN!! Maybe girls just don't have the nicknaming capacity, or maybe they don't care to partake in nicknaming. Either way.
For guys, the stakes are raised. Donnie becomes "Chainsaw"...Rick is now dubbed "Slaughterhouse"...and Joe somehow becomes "Mandingo".
I guess if you break it down more (which is what I love to do), you have to put different kinds of nicknames in different catergories.
Catergory 1: Common Name Nicknames
This is your Tiffany = Tiff, your Richard = Dick, your Anthony = Tony.
You can't really say much about these. It's just a way to take a proper, stuffy adult name, and make it a little more hip and personable. I do it myself, because it's shorter...less letters to write. Hey, I'm a lazy guy, ok?
Catergory 2: Manly Nicknames
Bob = Mangler, Frank = Psycho
Really, why do guys do this? I say guys, cause when have you ever called your girlfriend or wife "Psycho" and meant it as a good thing? Ok, so guys attach these crazy, blood thirsty names to their friends as some kind of a ego boost. I am no psychologist, but I would think being called "Maniac" would make me feel more self confident than "Pooh Bear". That's just a guess.
The question is, why don't women take on such barbaric nicknames? I think it's because girls are "suppose" to be soft and less-crazed. I wouldn't want to date a girl who was refered to as "The Butcher". But maybe the ladies should take a page out of the guys book, and come up with some semi-manly nicknames to help with self esteem.
Examples: Anything with a more duel meaning..."Killer" could mean a knockout looking lady, or a lady with a steak knife ready to rip out your liver.
Catergory 3: Animal nicknames
Adam = Rhino, Josh = Weasel, Heather = Bunny
See where this is going? Guys just don't seem to care what they are called, as long as the animal is tough or filthy, women need soft, furry nicknames.
Catergory 4: Common nicknames
Let me attack this catergory by giving you the 3 nicknames I HATE to be called.
3. Fella. Ex: "What have you been up to, fella?" What is a fella? I'm sure it's short for fellow, but when is the last time you heard someone say fellow? "He's a mighty good fellow" is the last time I heard it, and that song is as old as the hills (and not sang that often anymore for that very reason.)
2. Big -un. Believe it or not, I've gotten this nickname more than once. "Hey, big-un, how's it going?" Yes, that is Big-un, as in short for Big One. Who would feel good about being called big? A bodybuilder, maybe. I am not a body builder. But, on the bright side, at least I haven't been called Fatty McButterpants...yet!
1. Chief. "What's up, Chief?" I'll tell you what's about to be up...my foot, up your behind!! I can't really explain why I hate being called Chief, but I do hate it so. Chief? Man, I hate that one. Even worse than Big-un.
Of course, other catergories include: Lover's Nicknames, Nicknames for your Animals, Last Name Change Nicknames (using the person's last name to make a new, cooler nickname. Ex: Jones = Jonsey) and Far-Out Non-Sensical Nicknames (Ex: Brad = Godsey...see? Godsey isn't a word, yet, it's Brad's nickname!)
It seems that the common theme in all of the catergories is: Man = Strong, tough nicknames, or nicknames that play off your own name. Women = soft, cuddly nicknames.
Sounds like men need some ego boosting, and women need to feel more feminine. I don't have a problem with that...I do, however have a problem being called Chief!!
I'm sure it says something about our society, but as you can tell if you've made it this far in the post, I obviously have no idea where I am going with this entry, so I'll leave you to ponder the shortcomings of our society, and to think about the meaning behind YOUR nickname.
What I can't figure out is why guys get so creative with nicknames, and girls are so blah. For example, Tiffany becomes Tiff, or Barbara become Barb. YAWN!! Maybe girls just don't have the nicknaming capacity, or maybe they don't care to partake in nicknaming. Either way.
For guys, the stakes are raised. Donnie becomes "Chainsaw"...Rick is now dubbed "Slaughterhouse"...and Joe somehow becomes "Mandingo".
I guess if you break it down more (which is what I love to do), you have to put different kinds of nicknames in different catergories.
Catergory 1: Common Name Nicknames
This is your Tiffany = Tiff, your Richard = Dick, your Anthony = Tony.
You can't really say much about these. It's just a way to take a proper, stuffy adult name, and make it a little more hip and personable. I do it myself, because it's shorter...less letters to write. Hey, I'm a lazy guy, ok?
Catergory 2: Manly Nicknames
Bob = Mangler, Frank = Psycho
Really, why do guys do this? I say guys, cause when have you ever called your girlfriend or wife "Psycho" and meant it as a good thing? Ok, so guys attach these crazy, blood thirsty names to their friends as some kind of a ego boost. I am no psychologist, but I would think being called "Maniac" would make me feel more self confident than "Pooh Bear". That's just a guess.
The question is, why don't women take on such barbaric nicknames? I think it's because girls are "suppose" to be soft and less-crazed. I wouldn't want to date a girl who was refered to as "The Butcher". But maybe the ladies should take a page out of the guys book, and come up with some semi-manly nicknames to help with self esteem.
Examples: Anything with a more duel meaning..."Killer" could mean a knockout looking lady, or a lady with a steak knife ready to rip out your liver.
Catergory 3: Animal nicknames
Adam = Rhino, Josh = Weasel, Heather = Bunny
See where this is going? Guys just don't seem to care what they are called, as long as the animal is tough or filthy, women need soft, furry nicknames.
Catergory 4: Common nicknames
Let me attack this catergory by giving you the 3 nicknames I HATE to be called.
3. Fella. Ex: "What have you been up to, fella?" What is a fella? I'm sure it's short for fellow, but when is the last time you heard someone say fellow? "He's a mighty good fellow" is the last time I heard it, and that song is as old as the hills (and not sang that often anymore for that very reason.)
2. Big -un. Believe it or not, I've gotten this nickname more than once. "Hey, big-un, how's it going?" Yes, that is Big-un, as in short for Big One. Who would feel good about being called big? A bodybuilder, maybe. I am not a body builder. But, on the bright side, at least I haven't been called Fatty McButterpants...yet!
1. Chief. "What's up, Chief?" I'll tell you what's about to be up...my foot, up your behind!! I can't really explain why I hate being called Chief, but I do hate it so. Chief? Man, I hate that one. Even worse than Big-un.
Of course, other catergories include: Lover's Nicknames, Nicknames for your Animals, Last Name Change Nicknames (using the person's last name to make a new, cooler nickname. Ex: Jones = Jonsey) and Far-Out Non-Sensical Nicknames (Ex: Brad = Godsey...see? Godsey isn't a word, yet, it's Brad's nickname!)
It seems that the common theme in all of the catergories is: Man = Strong, tough nicknames, or nicknames that play off your own name. Women = soft, cuddly nicknames.
Sounds like men need some ego boosting, and women need to feel more feminine. I don't have a problem with that...I do, however have a problem being called Chief!!
I'm sure it says something about our society, but as you can tell if you've made it this far in the post, I obviously have no idea where I am going with this entry, so I'll leave you to ponder the shortcomings of our society, and to think about the meaning behind YOUR nickname.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Blue and White
There are signs that your favorite sports team is doing well. Maybe the baseball game is featured in Prime Time...maybe the basketball game is the "Game of the Week" on NBC...maybe the hockey game is, um, well, I guess we can skip that one being as I live in Indiana.
But for Football, it's a showdown on Monday night. Last night, Becky and a fellow IT worker, were able to score free tickets to the Indianapolis Colts vs the Minnesota Vikings, two teams at the top of the win column. Because Becky and her co-hort, Doug, are extremely nice, they gave the tickets to my brother and me.
Of course, as they say, nothing is free. We knew about the "possibility" of these tickets gracing our hands a week in advance, but the road wasn't without it's bumps. In order to get the tickets, several things had to fall into place.
The Proposal
Becky and Doug were to get the tickets if they came to a presentation by a computer equipment supplier (I can't pretend to know what they were selling, something that was big and expensive). They show up, look at the product, badda bing, badda boom, tickets for us.
Well...
1. Doug had to agree to go to the event. He said ok.
2. Doug had to agree to part with his ticket to Monday Night Football. He said sure.
3. The Company had to agree to let the tickets be given from Becky and Doug, to me and my brother. No problem.
4. My brother had to be off work, have someone to watch the kids, AND get a vehicle to drive to my house. Check, check, and check.
Smooth sailing...so far. Doug then dropped a bomb on us that he MAY not be able to go, because of child care issues. He would know the Monday of the game. So with all the balls in place we waited...and waited...
We had planned on leaving at 5:00, and at 3:30, still no answer from Doug. 4:00, nothing. 4:30, nadda. But, rejoice!! A little after 4:30, Doug gave us the green light.
The Waiting
It wasn't "see your breath" cold, but it was a little chili out last night by the Dome. My brother and I waited patiently while Becky and Doug went through the computer company's presentation.
We arrived shortly after 6...and by 7:30, we were just about spent. Then, we saw a guy with his wife stagger close to us. He was easily 6 foot 4, big ole beer belly, greying hair. The closer he got, the less he walked straight, and the more he walked to the right. Finally, he hit the curb, grabbed the trash can, and took a dive straight into the grass. We couldn't tell if he was hurt, or drunk. We soon concluded that he was drunk because his wife continued to nurse her cigarette as if nothing had happened.
It was just the little excitment we needed. At 8, a Rep from the computer place asked if we would like some passes to go in where Becky and Doug where. We agreed, because we knew there would be food. Oh, yeah, free food!! We scarfed some free food and shortly after, two tickets graced our numb fingers.
The Game
It's a once a year thing, maybe, for your hometown team to play Monday Night Football. So, to be there, was already thrilling. But the game itself was exciting, too. The first play, Minnesota fumble! First play! Of course they regained the fumble.
Some other highlights included:
1. Minnesota returned a punt for big yardage...but their punt returner was crushed by Hunter Smith, the punter. (NOTE: For those of you not in the know, punters are, gererally speaking, smaller guys who only tackle as a "last resort". Of course, Smith is a little larger, as Punters go, but still, it doesn't happen often.)
2. Later in the game, Smith got his second big hit in, unfortunately, it was as the Viking returner stretched across the end zone for a 91 yard punt return for a touchdown.
3. 4 passing TD's for Peyton Manning.
4. A last second Mike Vanderjagt field goal to win the game for the Colts, 31-28.
Here's what you didn't see...
1. Two guys getting tossed (from in or close to our section). The cops and security filed up the steps, yanked the drunkards, and wisked them away. Both were in the absolute top row of the stadium...I guess they didn't care if they saw the end of the game or not.
2. A guy three rows in front of us proposing to his girlfriend. She looked happy, so I assume she said yes.
3. Two guys in suits sitting next to a guy painted blue.
4. 57,000 screaming fans.
We rolled back into my town at 2:30 am. Tired, but satisfied.
Oh, yeah...if you are the lady who sat in front of us (section 320, row 16), I wanted to let you know when the Viking running back got crushed by our defense and he layed, apparently hurt...it was not me who yelled "BRING THE PAIN, 39!!" It was the guys behind me...and I didn't appriciate the smug look.
Ok, so it was me, but this is football after all, lady, not ballet!
But for Football, it's a showdown on Monday night. Last night, Becky and a fellow IT worker, were able to score free tickets to the Indianapolis Colts vs the Minnesota Vikings, two teams at the top of the win column. Because Becky and her co-hort, Doug, are extremely nice, they gave the tickets to my brother and me.
Of course, as they say, nothing is free. We knew about the "possibility" of these tickets gracing our hands a week in advance, but the road wasn't without it's bumps. In order to get the tickets, several things had to fall into place.
The Proposal
Becky and Doug were to get the tickets if they came to a presentation by a computer equipment supplier (I can't pretend to know what they were selling, something that was big and expensive). They show up, look at the product, badda bing, badda boom, tickets for us.
Well...
1. Doug had to agree to go to the event. He said ok.
2. Doug had to agree to part with his ticket to Monday Night Football. He said sure.
3. The Company had to agree to let the tickets be given from Becky and Doug, to me and my brother. No problem.
4. My brother had to be off work, have someone to watch the kids, AND get a vehicle to drive to my house. Check, check, and check.
Smooth sailing...so far. Doug then dropped a bomb on us that he MAY not be able to go, because of child care issues. He would know the Monday of the game. So with all the balls in place we waited...and waited...
We had planned on leaving at 5:00, and at 3:30, still no answer from Doug. 4:00, nothing. 4:30, nadda. But, rejoice!! A little after 4:30, Doug gave us the green light.
The Waiting
It wasn't "see your breath" cold, but it was a little chili out last night by the Dome. My brother and I waited patiently while Becky and Doug went through the computer company's presentation.
We arrived shortly after 6...and by 7:30, we were just about spent. Then, we saw a guy with his wife stagger close to us. He was easily 6 foot 4, big ole beer belly, greying hair. The closer he got, the less he walked straight, and the more he walked to the right. Finally, he hit the curb, grabbed the trash can, and took a dive straight into the grass. We couldn't tell if he was hurt, or drunk. We soon concluded that he was drunk because his wife continued to nurse her cigarette as if nothing had happened.
It was just the little excitment we needed. At 8, a Rep from the computer place asked if we would like some passes to go in where Becky and Doug where. We agreed, because we knew there would be food. Oh, yeah, free food!! We scarfed some free food and shortly after, two tickets graced our numb fingers.
The Game
It's a once a year thing, maybe, for your hometown team to play Monday Night Football. So, to be there, was already thrilling. But the game itself was exciting, too. The first play, Minnesota fumble! First play! Of course they regained the fumble.
Some other highlights included:
1. Minnesota returned a punt for big yardage...but their punt returner was crushed by Hunter Smith, the punter. (NOTE: For those of you not in the know, punters are, gererally speaking, smaller guys who only tackle as a "last resort". Of course, Smith is a little larger, as Punters go, but still, it doesn't happen often.)
2. Later in the game, Smith got his second big hit in, unfortunately, it was as the Viking returner stretched across the end zone for a 91 yard punt return for a touchdown.
3. 4 passing TD's for Peyton Manning.
4. A last second Mike Vanderjagt field goal to win the game for the Colts, 31-28.
Here's what you didn't see...
1. Two guys getting tossed (from in or close to our section). The cops and security filed up the steps, yanked the drunkards, and wisked them away. Both were in the absolute top row of the stadium...I guess they didn't care if they saw the end of the game or not.
2. A guy three rows in front of us proposing to his girlfriend. She looked happy, so I assume she said yes.
3. Two guys in suits sitting next to a guy painted blue.
4. 57,000 screaming fans.
We rolled back into my town at 2:30 am. Tired, but satisfied.
Oh, yeah...if you are the lady who sat in front of us (section 320, row 16), I wanted to let you know when the Viking running back got crushed by our defense and he layed, apparently hurt...it was not me who yelled "BRING THE PAIN, 39!!" It was the guys behind me...and I didn't appriciate the smug look.
Ok, so it was me, but this is football after all, lady, not ballet!
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Men's Rules
Becky sent this e-mail to me and actually prefaced it with a "sad but true" comment. I'll let you read it and judge yourself.
Men's Rules
We always hear "the rules" from the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules!
Please note these are all numbered "1" ON PURPOSE!
1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us bitching about you leaving it down.
1. Sometimes we are not thinking about you. Live with it.
1. Sunday = sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.
1. Don't cut your hair. Ever. Long hair is always more attractive than short hair. One of the big reasons guys fear getting married is that married women always cut their hair, and by then you're stuck with her.
1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.
1. Crying is blackmail.
1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!
1. We don't remember dates. Mark birthdays and anniversaries on a calendar. Remind us frequently beforehand.
1. Most guys own three pairs of shoes - tops. What makes you think we'd be any good at choosing which pair, out of thirty, would look good with your dress?
1. "Yes" and "No" are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
1. A headache that last for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
1. Anything we said six months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after seven days.
1. If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act like soap opera guys.
1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us. We refuse to answer.
1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
1. Let us ogle. We are going to look anyway; it's genetic.
1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.
1. Christopher Columbus did not need directions, and neither do we.
1. The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out. Get over it. And quit whining to your girlfriends.
1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.
1. We are not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.
1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," we will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.
1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.
1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as sex, sports or cars.
1. You have enough clothes.
1. You have too many shoes.
1. Foreign films are best left to foreigners. (Unless it's Bruce Lee or some war flick where it doesn't really matter what the hell they're saying anyway.)
1. It is neither in your best interest nor ours to take the quiz together. No, it doesn't matter which quiz.
1. I am in shape. ROUND is a shape.
1. Thank you for reading this; Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight, but did you know we really don't mind that, it's like camping.
Men's Rules
We always hear "the rules" from the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules!
Please note these are all numbered "1" ON PURPOSE!
1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us bitching about you leaving it down.
1. Sometimes we are not thinking about you. Live with it.
1. Sunday = sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.
1. Don't cut your hair. Ever. Long hair is always more attractive than short hair. One of the big reasons guys fear getting married is that married women always cut their hair, and by then you're stuck with her.
1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.
1. Crying is blackmail.
1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!
1. We don't remember dates. Mark birthdays and anniversaries on a calendar. Remind us frequently beforehand.
1. Most guys own three pairs of shoes - tops. What makes you think we'd be any good at choosing which pair, out of thirty, would look good with your dress?
1. "Yes" and "No" are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
1. A headache that last for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
1. Anything we said six months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after seven days.
1. If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act like soap opera guys.
1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us. We refuse to answer.
1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
1. Let us ogle. We are going to look anyway; it's genetic.
1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.
1. Christopher Columbus did not need directions, and neither do we.
1. The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out. Get over it. And quit whining to your girlfriends.
1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.
1. We are not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.
1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," we will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear.
1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.
1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as sex, sports or cars.
1. You have enough clothes.
1. You have too many shoes.
1. Foreign films are best left to foreigners. (Unless it's Bruce Lee or some war flick where it doesn't really matter what the hell they're saying anyway.)
1. It is neither in your best interest nor ours to take the quiz together. No, it doesn't matter which quiz.
1. I am in shape. ROUND is a shape.
1. Thank you for reading this; Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight, but did you know we really don't mind that, it's like camping.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Red Faced on Red House
I'm still a little bummed out about Saturday. You see, Becky and I went to a Halloween Party at my buddy Dan's house. The main attraction: His band was going to be performing. I love a live show, and these guys rock pretty hard, so I was very excited to go and check them out.
This is a real band here, two guitar players, bass and drums. They practice, perform at the local bars, etc. Not some two bit operation, in other words. I was particuarly excited because they had been working on a Hendrix cover of Voodoo Chile (Slight Return). Hendrix, being my favorite, was definitely a draw to the shindig.
When we arrived, we went through the regular Halloween stuff. Ah, look at the costumes, etc. (we, by the way, chose not to dress up. We just weren't into making a spectacle of ourselves.) Little did I know, I would be making a spectacle of myself soon enough anyway.
The band started warming up, and immediately broke into Voodoo Chile. I have to admit, it did sound awesome, despite a few small things.
1. They played it the Stevie Ray Vaughn way, which has an extra note in the intro. For some reason, I couldn't get past that.
2. Dan didn't know some of the words to the first verse. "I stand up next to THE mountain?" No, no, no!! "I stand up next to A mountain."
3. Dan didn't know any of the second verse.
That is where I came in.
During the instrumental break down, Dan calls me up to the stage. "Come on, Tony, I don't know the words, come sing it!!"
So, I did.
The problem was two fold.
1. I couldn't tell from what they were playing when I needed to start singing.
2. My mic was apparently not turned up, cause when I finally started to sing, I heard nothing, despite my screaming.
Oh, well. It was ok, cause that was my first time in front of an audience WITH a band. (of course, my birthday party had me performing by myself in front of friends and family, but this was in front of strangers WITH a full band...very intimidating.)
Well, I sat back down and the band finished the song. My ordeal was over...wait a minute...
Dan was called to the house for something, so Hiram, the guitar player, waved me back up.
"Do you know Red House?" Do I know Red House? Of course, I am a Hendrix junky!!
So, I took the stage one more time for Red House. The band had never played it before, but it sounded dead on to the original. I was ecstatic!! The time came, and this time my mic was on.
"There's a Red House over yonder....
that's where my baby stays.
There's a Red House over yonder...
lord that's where my baby stays.
I haven't been home to see my baby,
in 99 and one half days.
Wait a minute something's wrong,
this key won't unlock this door.
Wait a minute somethings wrong,
this key won't unlock this door.
That's when I realized something was wrong...I blanked the lyrics...the whole rest of the song was gone! I stood starring at Hiram, who played on as if nothing had happened. I looked at the Bass player, and shrugged "I forgot the words." He played on. It seems they didn't know the words at all, so it didn't matter. I, unfortunately, wasn't very good at improvising, so I stood there staring at the band, while they grooved out.
I was embarrassed, but not as much as I had thought I would be. Until I heard someone say
"He's not gonna sing it!" in a disgusted tone. Oh, well...I guess I made some friends that night!!
I apologized for forgetting the words, and we left soon after. So much for my first real performance. Maybe next time I will study before I leave...
This is a real band here, two guitar players, bass and drums. They practice, perform at the local bars, etc. Not some two bit operation, in other words. I was particuarly excited because they had been working on a Hendrix cover of Voodoo Chile (Slight Return). Hendrix, being my favorite, was definitely a draw to the shindig.
When we arrived, we went through the regular Halloween stuff. Ah, look at the costumes, etc. (we, by the way, chose not to dress up. We just weren't into making a spectacle of ourselves.) Little did I know, I would be making a spectacle of myself soon enough anyway.
The band started warming up, and immediately broke into Voodoo Chile. I have to admit, it did sound awesome, despite a few small things.
1. They played it the Stevie Ray Vaughn way, which has an extra note in the intro. For some reason, I couldn't get past that.
2. Dan didn't know some of the words to the first verse. "I stand up next to THE mountain?" No, no, no!! "I stand up next to A mountain."
3. Dan didn't know any of the second verse.
That is where I came in.
During the instrumental break down, Dan calls me up to the stage. "Come on, Tony, I don't know the words, come sing it!!"
So, I did.
The problem was two fold.
1. I couldn't tell from what they were playing when I needed to start singing.
2. My mic was apparently not turned up, cause when I finally started to sing, I heard nothing, despite my screaming.
Oh, well. It was ok, cause that was my first time in front of an audience WITH a band. (of course, my birthday party had me performing by myself in front of friends and family, but this was in front of strangers WITH a full band...very intimidating.)
Well, I sat back down and the band finished the song. My ordeal was over...wait a minute...
Dan was called to the house for something, so Hiram, the guitar player, waved me back up.
"Do you know Red House?" Do I know Red House? Of course, I am a Hendrix junky!!
So, I took the stage one more time for Red House. The band had never played it before, but it sounded dead on to the original. I was ecstatic!! The time came, and this time my mic was on.
"There's a Red House over yonder....
that's where my baby stays.
There's a Red House over yonder...
lord that's where my baby stays.
I haven't been home to see my baby,
in 99 and one half days.
Wait a minute something's wrong,
this key won't unlock this door.
Wait a minute somethings wrong,
this key won't unlock this door.
That's when I realized something was wrong...I blanked the lyrics...the whole rest of the song was gone! I stood starring at Hiram, who played on as if nothing had happened. I looked at the Bass player, and shrugged "I forgot the words." He played on. It seems they didn't know the words at all, so it didn't matter. I, unfortunately, wasn't very good at improvising, so I stood there staring at the band, while they grooved out.
I was embarrassed, but not as much as I had thought I would be. Until I heard someone say
"He's not gonna sing it!" in a disgusted tone. Oh, well...I guess I made some friends that night!!
I apologized for forgetting the words, and we left soon after. So much for my first real performance. Maybe next time I will study before I leave...
VOTE
Well, my vote is in. For the first time ever, I went down and threw my political 2 cents in. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I had visions of hanging chad's and bug eyed vote counters scrutinizing my ballot.
None of that. Just a couple of old ladies in a room.
A couple of things bothered me.
1. They didn't ask for my ID or Voter Registration card. All they did was have me sign, and put the last four digits of my Social Security number down. What if they found the numbers didn't match? Obviously they couldn't find the particular ballot I cast and pull it out. That's just asking for voter fraud.
2. The voting booth had no back. While I was voting, the machine next to me opened up (there were only two machines in the building.) and some guy walked right behind me to get to the machine. My whole voting scheme was open to his wandering eyes! I felt like I was in the second grade, hovering over my votes like they were the answers to my Spelling Quiz.
3. You know those little "I voted" stickers? Well, I didn't get one, and I'm more than a little bitter about that!!
In closing, I hope that all my candidates will win. I have been told that whether I vote Republican or Democrat for President this year really doesn't matter, because apparently Indiana is a strong Republican state. That's nice to know that no matter who I vote for, my vote doesn't really amount to much. I mean, if it were the case that "every vote counts" and in the end, the popular vote wins, then I would still think my vote went to the good of the bottom line.
But that's not the case. I guess this whole Electoral College thing confuses me. If Bush gets 800 votes in Indiana and Kerry gets 799...then Bush wins 11 EC votes, Kerry gets 0. What happens to 800 and 799? I would think that would still mean something, but it doesn't. I just don't understand, I guess.
I guess it's more the Majority of each State, than it is the Majority of the entire country, which also seems weird to me, but I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to discredit the system, I'm just trying to understand.
Good luck to President Bush.
Good luck to Senator Kerry.
I hope the better man wins, whomever that may be, and I hope the country can accept the outcome either way and find a way to continue to live and prosper. I refuse to reveil my vote...except to the guy who walked behind me at the polls!
None of that. Just a couple of old ladies in a room.
A couple of things bothered me.
1. They didn't ask for my ID or Voter Registration card. All they did was have me sign, and put the last four digits of my Social Security number down. What if they found the numbers didn't match? Obviously they couldn't find the particular ballot I cast and pull it out. That's just asking for voter fraud.
2. The voting booth had no back. While I was voting, the machine next to me opened up (there were only two machines in the building.) and some guy walked right behind me to get to the machine. My whole voting scheme was open to his wandering eyes! I felt like I was in the second grade, hovering over my votes like they were the answers to my Spelling Quiz.
3. You know those little "I voted" stickers? Well, I didn't get one, and I'm more than a little bitter about that!!
In closing, I hope that all my candidates will win. I have been told that whether I vote Republican or Democrat for President this year really doesn't matter, because apparently Indiana is a strong Republican state. That's nice to know that no matter who I vote for, my vote doesn't really amount to much. I mean, if it were the case that "every vote counts" and in the end, the popular vote wins, then I would still think my vote went to the good of the bottom line.
But that's not the case. I guess this whole Electoral College thing confuses me. If Bush gets 800 votes in Indiana and Kerry gets 799...then Bush wins 11 EC votes, Kerry gets 0. What happens to 800 and 799? I would think that would still mean something, but it doesn't. I just don't understand, I guess.
I guess it's more the Majority of each State, than it is the Majority of the entire country, which also seems weird to me, but I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to discredit the system, I'm just trying to understand.
Good luck to President Bush.
Good luck to Senator Kerry.
I hope the better man wins, whomever that may be, and I hope the country can accept the outcome either way and find a way to continue to live and prosper. I refuse to reveil my vote...except to the guy who walked behind me at the polls!
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