Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Going Blind Doing Paperwork...

...okay parents, a little help here. How in the name of all that is holy do other families handle the reams of paper sent home from school with their kids every week? We are being buried in flyers, newsletters, Scholastic book order forms, PTA propaganda pages, drawings, art projects, homework, daily work...it is getting to the point where our kitchen counters and tables are unusable due to the stacks of paper. We have tried folders, binders, trays, bins...it always gets away from us. Add in the mail, junk mail, advertisements and catalogs and things get even sportier.

We have come to grips with the notion that every single drawing the kids complete is not a precious memory that needs to be kept forever. Otherwise, we'd be talking to the producers of 'Hoarders' to help in wrangling this situation and not hammering out a blog post three people might read...but I'm hoping one of you three have stared the dead tree monster in the face and slayed it. Do we just need to be quicker in determining what stays and what goes? We've tried that as well and guess what...we wind up with piles of papers in the 'Keep' pile!

The steps I have taken amount to changing over to paperless billing, cutting down subscriptions, and taking weekly ads to the recycling bin almost immediately. That has helped stem the tide of mail, but the paper tsunami from school is unrelenting.

I'd appreciate any tips you may have when it comes to papers from school management. We are at a loss...

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Teenagers Ruin Everything

I'm not sure how old I was when I stopped trick or treating, I think it was around 11 or 12. All I know is that one year I just stopped going door to door asking for candy while dressed up like a Stormtrooper or what have you. I most certainly did not go trick or treating after hitting puberty, and if I tried I'm pretty sure my parents would have prevented me from doing so. In fact, I don't remember any of my friends (all three of them) hitting the streets on Halloween night trick or treating after 6th grade. So, I guess that's why I'm always surprised, annoyed, and disgusted by the number of teenaged kids showing up at my door on Halloween…why the f*ck are these kid's parents letting them go out to trick or treat?

When my kids hit their teen years I'm going to put a stop to the trick or treating. They can dress up and go to a Halloween party at a friend's house or to the movies, but they won't be going trick or treating. That activity should be left to the pre-pubescent set.

At one point last night two cars pulled into our cul-de-sac, both full of kids old enough to drive and smoke because all of them reeked of cigarettes. A couple of them were drinking energy drinks, and all that stuff does is turbo charge d-bag behavior. Anyway, I watched them pull up as I was trying to relight the candles in the jack-o-lanterns, so I went back inside and closed the front door…and steeled myself for their arrival. They didn't knock on the door, they pounded on it like barbarians at the gates of Rome…home invasions are carried out with more grace and tact than the knock of these dickweeds. I opened the door, got a lung full of second hand smoke, and begrudgingly gave the punks some candy…one piece each, and not the good stuff….but the off-brand Laffy Taffy we picked up somewhere last year and a couple of boxes of Nerds. I would have liked to have given them nothing, but effing kids today will come back and vandalize your house or throw an M-80 at your front door or set your car on fire. I don't trust them to not do something stupid and I really didn't want to have to hunt these kids down afterwards like some sort of suburban Punisher.

The girls had fun though, and I'd like to thank our neighbors for the pre-Halloween party with pizza and Rolling Rock. Unfortunately, my girls are the world's most finicky eaters and don't partake of pizza…or Rolling Rock. Still, they had fun mingling with the other kids...

Only one house kind of freaked them out, the one with the strobe lights, fog machines, and every single motion activated animatronic ghoul that Spirit Halloween sold this year, including one of the demonic zombie babies sitting on the steps. Maddy didn't like the smell of the fog and claimed it stung her eyes….Jossy thought they might have a dog, and dogs to her are scarier than demonic zombies babies….Katelyn wasn't too sure about the lights…but in the end they all went to the door to get their candy.

Here's hoping everyone had a safe and fun Halloween!

Friday, October 21, 2011

Putting Away Childish Things

I've been a Star Wars fan since I was 7 years old, so I've been a fan for almost 35 years. In that 35 years I managed to pick up an absolute arse load of Star Wars toys. Some of it I've lugged around since 1977, some of it is newer, but all of it (or close to all of it) has got to go.

There comes a time when it is just simply time to be done with the past. I have reached that point. Oh, part of me still believes I'm making a huge mistake selling this stuff off...why am I not saving it all for my kids to have when I shuffle off? The answer is simple - they are just a bunch of toys. Sure, some of them are carrying around the stink of nostalgia and my desperate attempts to cling to the remnants of my childhood...but at the end of the day they are just toys....plastic parts molded and painted by slave labor somewhere in China. And I'm kind of done trying to recapture whatever magic toys brought to my life when I was 7 years old.

I would be kidding if I said that Star Wars wasn't important to me though. It was. I didn't always see eye to eye with my younger brother about a lot of things. We are two very different people, but we always had Star Wars. We spent hours as kids playing with the toys, making up adventures for Luke and Han as they battled the evil galactic empire. No matter how we fought or argued we knew we could always play with our Star Wars toys and get along. It was bigger then the differences in our personalities (the main difference being he had a personality, I didn't really develop one until 1984, but that's a different story), it was something we could do together...even when he had Han gun down Vader, a bit of revisionist history on par with the ending of 'Inglorious Bastards'.

Now, I could prattle on about how I saw myself as Luke Skywalker, yearning for more with my mind on the future, the horizon....adventure, excitement...a Jedi craves not these things...and neither should a 41 year old man, at least not through toys. Like the title of this post says, I'm putting away childish things...and turning a buck or two while at it.

So, why not leave the stuff for the girls? I'll break it down for you, countdown style!

One - I have a lot of stuff. A lot. A couple of plastic tubs in the garage, a couple in the house, an entire closet and shelves filled with action figures and vehicles...I'm running out of room to store it in. Also, this stuff is a pain in the ass to lug around and I don't want them dealing with that when I'm not around to help them with it. Plus, do I want my kids looking back on my life and remembering me through toys? I don't think so. The money this stuff brings in is going to help pay for soccer camps, gymnastics, etc. I'll be using the old to help my kids create new memories for themselves.

Two - I might keep a couple of 'heirloom' pieces, but that's it. One item for each kid that I have actually kept with me since 1977. Those items have some sentimental value, but that does have a price tag...so if some collector in Wisconsin hits the 'But It Now' link then we'll be looking for a new sentimental item...like my unpaid eBay invoices. The object here is to get rid of this stuff, so even keeping a couple of pieces isn't etched in stone or molded plastic.

Three - Maddy is growing up so fast and pretty soon she is going to want her own room. The Better Half would like to keep all three girls sleeping in the same bedroom like a bunch of hillbillies until they move out. Part of me does as well since that means they will be sleeping in the infamous castle bed longer...and there's no way they have slept in that thing long enough to justify the herculean amount of effort it took to construct and paint that monstrosity. However, I'm a realist and Maddy has already been poking around about getting her own room for 6 months now...she has gone so far as to pick out paint colors and bedding from PB Teen (we'll find something similar at Target for 1/2 the price...god bless ya, Target!). The Waltons bedroom setup is only going to last a little while longer...

Four - I think it's absolutely ridiculous that I have an entire room in our house devoted to my Star Wars collection. I'll be 42 years old in January and when I think of my dad at 42 he didn't have time to be collecting toys...he was busy getting stuff done, being productive, acting like an adult. Putting 3 3/4" action figures in protective cases is hardly adult like...and I think if one of the surviving members of WWII's 'Band of Brothers' saw this room they would run me through with a bayonet after punching me in the face. They fought the Germans for this?

The decision has been made, I want this stuff outta here. I've already made a few sales on eBay and will be posting more until it's all gone...but don't bother looking for any Princess Leia stuff from me, I gave all the Leia toys to the girls (along with some Luke, Han, and Lando figures) to play with so they can make their own memories...you see, that's the trouble with the past, it gets heavy after a while...it's best to live in the moments being created all around you each and every day...for everything else, there's eBay.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

NBA - The McDonald's Of Pro Sports

Ask most adults if they like McDonald's and I can guarantee you that a majority will give you an emphatic 'No!' as an answer...and by majority I mean 7 out of 10. Those that answer 'yes' will qualify their response with one of the following - 'I only go there because my kids like it' or 'I really like their Sausage McMuffins, everything else sucks'. If those answering no were to be believed, then McDonald's should be on the verge of bankruptcy. That, however, is not the case - McDonald's is still the most popular restaurant chain in the world. Subway may have surpassed them with stores, but they can't match the brand equity and revenue that the Golden Arches rakes in year after year. That means one of two things - a lot of people are eating their body weight in Sausage McMuffins day in and day out or kids are making the meal decisions for damn near every family on the planet...

The actual answer is that the McDonald's question is now a litmus test. Answer yes and you are a simple minded buffoon with no regard for your own or your family's health. In fact, you and McDonald's are everything that is WRONG with America and the world and you should just DIE RIGHT NOW YOU F*CKING UNENLIGHTENED MORON!!! Think I'm kidding? Just take a random sampling of your coworkers...most are going to say they don't care for McDonald's or will give an answer with some logic twisting preamble and/or disclaimer.

What does any of the above have to do with the NBA? Well, the NBA enjoyed some of its best ratings last year and league attendance averaged over 17k fans a game, a record I believe. However, if you ask most sports enthusiasts how they feel about the NBA a majority will answer they don't watch or attend games because they hate basketball and the NBA. If someone does say they watch NBA games you will be treated to the same type of mental gymnastics that you received from those answering yes to the McDonald's question...'yeah, I watch a game every now and then, but I prefer college basketball' or 'I only watch the playoffs, the regular season is a joke' or 'I can't believe the NBA let the Sonics move to Oklahoma City, f*ck the NBA in the face with a chainsaw!' Yes, well...that last statement was an actual answer from a co-worker this morning...although I added the bit about the chainsaw because chainsaws, like bacon, make everything better. Moving along...

Although the NBA's popularity was on the rise last year, it isn't considered hip to be an NBA fan. Oh no, the hipster doofus sports league to embrace, especially here in Seattle, is the MLS. This is completely understandable as the NBA shat all over Seattle by aiding and abetting the move of the Sonics to Oklahoma City. David Stern helped orchestrate that move, and it is one that I hope backfires in his face...with a chainsaw. This move left a hole that the MLS and the Sounders have filled and they have done so brilliantly...but this doesn't explain every other major city though.

I'm not sure when it happened, maybe after the lockout in 1998 or the 2001 Kings/Lakers officiating debacle, but the NBA went from the darling of the sports world to McDonald's status. Both are still popular, but no one is going to admit enjoying them as to avoid being labeled a simpleton. The dislike of the NBA runs deeper though, with elements of race and entitlement thrown into the mix. Now, I'm not one to ever play the race card, and maybe race is the wrong card to play here...we could just be witnessing a cultural paradigm shift in regards to pay and status...but I feel that there are some uncomfortable feelings surrounding young black men like Lebron James and Dwyane (can he fix the goddam spelling of his name?!?!?) Wade making so much guaranteed money and wielding so much media power. That's another discussion for another time, but it is something to consider, especially now as the lockout continues and the national U6 unemployment rate pushes up on 20%.

The NFL is America's game, no one begrudges the money NFL players make because a majority of fans know their contracts are, for the most part, not guaranteed. It is also understood that the NFL is known as Not For Long by the players, meaning they either produce on the field or they will be cut. That doesn't happen in the NBA (or MLB), so the vibe is that the NBA game suffers as the players don't have a whole lot to lose once they sign their contract. And although the NFL has been playing games overseas for decades, there has not been the push to internationalize the game the way Stern has diluted the NBA brand by trying to take it global. His pandering to Hispanic and Asian markets is embarrassing, and the league's stunt of renaming teams during Hispanic Heritage month ('Los Lakers' anyone?) last season made me want to puke all over David Stern's face...with a chainsaw. Is the NBA brand damaged goods, especially now that the lockout has wiped out the first two weeks of the season? Or does anyone even care?

I've touched on a lot of stuff here in trying to figure out how McDonald's and the NBA could be so popular yet have no one really admit to liking either one. I'm not sure what the answer is to that disparity...maybe I just know a lot of people that don't really like either one...or I know a lot of liars...what's your take?

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Flogging A Dead Horse

Okay, this will be my last Starbucks rant for a while. I promise, mainly because I am going to stop going there, even when the Keurig at work is broken...which is most of the time.

Oh, International District Starbucks staff...why is it so hard for you to figure out what should come naturally to you? The trains arrive at the same time each and every day give or take 5 minutes. That means at pretty much the same time every goddamn morning on every goddamn day there is going to be a goddamn rush of customers. Why do you choose these predictable and consistent rush times to send staff on break and/or to restock the one and only cream/sugar station in the store? Why don't you, oh, I don't know...make sure everything is stocked before each rush and remain fully staffed for when it is busy at the same f*cking time every morning?!?!?!? It really isn't that hard to figure out, for effs sake I put together a schedule for you in my head just sitting here...and I'm mildly retarded. Get it together, ID Starbucks!!!!

On a completely different note, I can't be trusted to make smart lunch decisions these days. I forgot to take lunch in today, so I ventured out to grab something to eat...because God forbid I miss a f*cking meal and waste away. Anycrap, the problem is that I fell off my healthy eating habit in a big way. All the weight I dropped a few weeks back has worked its way back into my life, mainly because I get sucked into eating really sh*tty food at Uwajimaya. That place blows, but it is cheap and convenient, two things that appeal to me. So, there I was this afternoon with no lunch and no motivation to go to Pike Place for a piece of fruit or Mel's for a salad. Instead, I ended up eating my body weight in rice, breaded chicken of questionable quality, and MSG laden Mongolian beef. It was a tragedy and I felt terrible afterward, so I wound up hoofing it to the waterfront to clear the crappy lunch haze from my head. And it worked, for the most part, but when I returned to work all slick with flop sweat from my walk and smelling vaguely of an Asian deep fat fryer, I was overcome with guilt and shame...shame for being so inefficient and lazy for falling into a lunch rut that is really, really bad for me. It needs to stop.

There, now I feel better for getting that off my chest...pray for me!

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

And Then There Were None

Summer seemed to make nothing more than a brief cameo this year, fall has arrived and shoved summer out on his ass. I don't mind fall, there's quite a bit to look forward to when Autumn arrives...Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas...and I do tend to get a bit Griswold about the holidays. However, I always miss summer when it departs. I've said this before, but from a completely pragmatic point of view I only have about 22 good summers left before some sort of calamitous health event takes me down or renders me (more) physically feeble than I am now...so unless there is a stunning and economically viable breakthrough in robotics or bionics in the next 20 years or so, the summer of 2033 isn't going to be all that much fun for me.

Yes, well...that was depressing.

Sooooo, yeah...I still hate the Starbucks in the International District. The remodel makes about as much sense as Chinese sign language to me. Someone from corporate store design needs to come down and gaze upon the disaster their vision has wrought. It is pure effing chaos in that place when it is only moderately busy, when crowded it's the equivalent of a marketplace in Mogadishu (Blackhawks optional) or the Renton WalMart (minus the tire fires in the parking lot). I think the only place designed more inefficiently and staffed with less motivated employees would be the Krusty Pup or scone stands at the Puyallup Fair...goddamn, it takes less time filling out first time patient paperwork at a dental clinic than it does trying to order a corn dog at the fair. I cut the fair some slack because the booths are staffed by dipshit DECA dorks, very special people, and their parents, but Starbucks earns every atom of rage I throw their way. They should know f*cking better than to try and corral everyone into the center of the store! Ugh.

Wow, so speaking of dentists, I visited an absolute loon of a dentist a couple of weeks ago. Now, I could have looked past the greasy hair, the neonish pink shirt, and the ill fitting dress trousers...dentists can be wacky that way. What I couldn't get past was when he asked to compare wallets with me, his fumbling attempts to give me a soul brother hand shake, and his borderline inappropriate comments about my skin tone. Oh, and he told me that if I decide to have my wisdom teeth pulled I would miss about three weeks of work. Yep, three weeks. Because one of the teeth is crazy sideways. He said removing that tooth would be the equivalent of a compound break of my femur. And there would be an 80% chance the right side of my face would be numb from the nerve damage from the extraction, but hey, Sly Stallone has a numb face and everything worked out for him! If I don't get the tooth pulled then I have a 1 in a 1000 chance of getting inoperable cancer from it...then he saw the horrified look on my face and changed the odds to 1 in 10,000. So I have that going for me. Anyhoo, I won't be going back to that quack anytime soon, especially since the hygienist liked to play rough. My goodness, I had never, ever experienced pain the way I did in that dentist's chair. It was blinding at times and two of my teeth still hurt from whatever it was she did to them. I won't print the dentist's name, but if you email me I'll be more than happy to give you that info so you can avoid them at all costs.

Lastly, I have picked what appears to be the end of the corn I planted. What I have picked so far was pretty good, if not a little underdeveloped. I'm not sure if I want to plant it again next year, although the girls want me to. They really enjoyed watching it grow and picking it, along with the tomatoes and peppers. If the corn had turned out better I was prepared to plow under the entire back yard and turn it into a cornfield next year...but that didn't happen. Too bad, I was looking forward to buying a brand new combine and then having John Cougar Mellenhead write a song about me when I missed a couple of payments and the auction man came to take it away....

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Begun Anew, The Rodent Wars Have

The end of summer renews my hostilities with the local field mouse population. They want a warm place to make nests and spit out their vermin brood, I'd prefer they do so elsewhere or die a snappy mouse trap death or a miserable warfarin induced slow death…the choice is theirs to make, I'm a sweetheart that way.

Anyhoo – this year I have decided to try finding where they are getting into the house and crawl space. That means donning a Tyvek suit and other protective gear plus a respirator to enter the crawl space searching for any entry points the mice may have and sealing it off. And placing a glue trap or two around it baited with D-Con. I might throw a mountain lion down there as well to scare the little bastards off.

Going into the crawl space is not my favorite thing in the world. While I don't believe the flesh eating creatures from The Descent reside down there, other things do…like maybe the hanta virus…and giant spiders…and mice. In other words, not good times.

I really wish the mice would just take a hint and take up residence somewhere else….

Don’t Let’s Start

This blog has come to another screeching halt. Part of the problem has been time, as in a lack of due to raising kids and not wanting to ignore The Better Half. The other issue has been a crippling case of self-induced writer's block. I have several posts in the hopper, but I have been hesitant to pull the trigger and getting them published. Why? Well, it's because I have been afraid of offending people. Yes, you read that correctly…I don't want to offend the tender sensibilities of Facebook friends that may visit this blog from time to time…

When I started the original Grande Pescados back on WordPress, it was surprisingly successful. I developed a decent readership and would sometimes get over 1,000 hits a day. The high points of the original Grande Pescados blog was my correspondence with Dave Wakeling of The English Beat/General Public fame and my bitchy slap fight with a Counting Crows band member. Not bad for a tatty blog that I didn't do anything to advertise. The 'new' Grande Pescados is lucky to get 5 hits a day…and that's with me posting links to the site on Facebook. This has been discouraging, to say the least.

The lack of consistent readership has been a motivation killer. I can admit to that, but the main reason no one has been reading this blog is that it hasn't been very entertaining…my writing has been stifled and self-censored, making my posts boring as hell. I've been so afraid of turning people off with my opinions and sometimes abrasive style that I have become an effing drag when it comes to writing damn near anything.

I started Grande Pescados because I wanted an outlet for my thoughts and opinions and to entertain my readers with a chuckle or two. I'm never going to make everyone happy, but in trying to do so I've made no one happy…including myself. That has to change if I am going to continue this blog, which is what I plan to do.

So, thanks again for stopping by. If any of the past or future content offends or upsets you then this isn't the blog for you. If you disagree with anything I've written or want to add to it, please leave comments. And for eff's sake, people, learn how to take a joke…okay?

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

This Week In Rage

I really, really do not understand some of the decisions that get made by corporate types. Take, for example, Starbucks and the remodel of their International District store. The person responsible for that remodel needs to be fired immediately. It is a giant steaming cup of dysfunctional social engineering with an extra shot of effing fail. Why Starbucks thought it would be good idea to consolidate the two sugar/creamer stations into one and then place that station in the same area customers wait for their drinks is beyond me. Before, there was one station near the back of the store and another near the front. That set up worked out just fine. If one was busy, you went to the other. Now, the solitary station is always goddamn busy...and usually out of something. Why? Because some boneheaded sociology major with a minor in marketing at Starbucks corporate office felt that would add to the effing Starbucks communal customer experience. Well, I f*cking hate it. It was a stupid decision and it needs to be reversed post haste! The flow of the store is all c*cked up now because customers are forced to mill around right smack in front of the barista station waiting for their drinks. You have to elbow your way to get to the sugar/cream and then dick around there for a few minutes waiting for room to open up...it sucks, especially if you are in a hurry...which brings me to my next point of rage...

Hey, f*ck face that thinks the sugar/cream station is your own personal counter space...get your cream, add your sugar, and MOVE THE F*CK ON!!!! Seriously, the next person that pulls the add a dash of half & half, stir, take a sip, add some sugar, stir, take a sip, add another splash of half & half, stir, take a sip, is going to get beaten in ways Lifetime hasn't found a way to depict yet. You've been warned.

Oh, and I've stopped tipping at Starbucks when I order drip coffee. I no longer tip for two reasons - one, the barista isn't doing anything I couldn't do for myself if I had to. Two, they leave absolutely no room for cream. At all. Ask for a venti drip with room and your cup will be as full as a venti drip with no room. I've heard some customers go so far as to order a grande drip in a venti cup, but methinks they are partaking in a variation of the ghetto latte. I don't play that game. Instead, I dump about a 1/4 cup of coffee into the trash can. It sucks to be the employee that takes the garbage out and a bag breaks that is full of discarded coffee. Maybe that unfortunate soul can pass on to the baristas pouring the drip coffee that 'with room' means with room. Until then, no tips for drip coffee...and I suppose I'll continue to get sh*tty looks from the Starbucks employees that ring me up. I'd go to Tully's, but the creepy gnome with Civil War reenactment enthusiast facial hair gives me the heebee jeebees. And Tully's coffee blows...

Yes, well....

Specialty's is another place that has been irritating me lately, mainly due to a subtle, yet noticeable, change in the vernacular of their cashiers. About a month ago the cashiers stopped asking 'for here or to go?', changing it to 'for here or take away?'. I'm not really sure why that change pisses me off so much, but it does....to the point where I make it a point to say 'to go' when answering. It's all I can do to not scream 'TO GO' in their unsuspecting faces...I suppose I'm a gentleman that way...take away my arse!

I feel much better now. Thanks for stopping by....!

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Hello Kitty and Powerman

Now, the title of this post isn't referring to some new manga...it's a reference to one of my previous posts, the one where I said I fixed my oven with some Hello Kitty post-it notes.

If you own a GE oven made from 1998 to present, I would become familiar with this site. 'Powerman' is the gent that has been posting this very cheap fix for the F7 error codes GE ovens are notorious for....

Monday, August 1, 2011

Slippin' And A Slidin'

I bought the girls a Slip & Slide at the end of the school year. However, since this has been the sh*ttiest summer I can remember since the summer of 1993, it has sat unused in the garage. Something resembling summer finally reared its head last weekend, so we were able to break the thing out.

Now, Slip & Slides have not changed a lot over the years. Gone are the days of metal stakes to keep the thing pinned to the ground, replaced by a reservoir of water at the tail end and two plastic stakes up top. It's still a thick sheet of plastic with water squirting over it. The treachery of the blasted thing remains intact as well. Oh, I remember watching my friend Sean Ash damn near brain himself on our Slip & Slide in Montclair, CA back in 1977. He miscounted his steps on his approach run and his feet flew out from under him, flipping him onto his back and slamming his head into the turf. He was most certainly concussed...and probably never the same again...

Anyhoo, happy memories of internal head injuries and deadly cranial pressure aside, I bought a Slip & Slide for the girls...and they love it. Especially, Madelyn...she's a pro. Unfortunately, the Slip & Slide is absolute murder on the lawn. By the time the girls are finished sliding around they have worn a pretty deep groove in the grass. This is because of the amount of top soil I had to use when putting the lawn in and the poor drainage due to the cement like glacier till underneath said top soil. When I pulled the Slip & Slide up Saturday evening it looked like a meteor slammed into the lawn and dug up a trench. I was kind of expecting to see baby Superman at the end of the ruined stretch of lawn...but no such luck. There was just a puddle of muddy water. Side note - had there been a baby Superman on my lawn you bet your sweet arse I'd have him playing sports when he hit his teens and dominating! He would go pro in EVERYTHING! Baby Superman = license to print money!!!!

Uh, so yeah, where was I? Oh, the lawn...RUINED! Well, no. But it looked bad, so I had to fetch some top soil and grass seed and do some repair work. We'll see how it goes. Next time the girls want to use the Slip & Slide we'll just go the YMCA for family swim. Kidding. Although I was a little irritated that the lawn was trashed, I couldn't get too upset. The girls were crazy happy on that sheet of plastic and grass grows back...there's only a small window of time where my kids are going to be kids and I plan on letting them enjoy their childhood. I am > Joseph Jackson...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Please Report To The Mainstage!

This post was originally going to be about my 5 favorite summer songs, but this summer has sucked a mountain of monkey ass so I am going to pass on that topic.

Since the notorious 'Rick's' on Lake City Way was recently purchased I figured I'd write a post on the 5 songs you will always hear at the strip joint you go to for the next bachelor party you attend. I'm going to come clean, I've been to Rick's back in the day...once for a bachelor party and alcohol was involved and then a couple other times when more alcohol was involved. It's not something I'm exactly proud of, but hey, it was something to do. I mean, there were only so many times you could roll to The Romper Room to hit on and dance* (badly) with sorority girls with too many starchy foods in their diet, right? No? Let's move on....

*I once pulled my left calf muscle at The Romper Room dancing with a girl from the local Alpha Phi house to 'Love Roller Coaster'. I had to limp off the floor and then spent the rest of the night icing my calf in a booth. It wasn't one of my better performances.

Disclaimer - this post is in no way an endorsement of the stripper lifestyle, nor do I condone patronizing strip clubs...especially now that I am the father of three girls. I'm a wee bit more sensitive now. This post is for entertainment purposes only and a post I've had kicking around in my head since 2001...before I even had a blog. Please keep that in mind....thanks!

These songs aren't ranked by order of preference since 3/5 of them are horrible songs. Instead, I've ranked them by the level of, um, performance art involved by the dancer...and then viewed through the prism of the only Canadian strip joint I ever went to, Brandy's in Vancouver for my brother's bachelor party. Rick's was low rent and skeevy, Brandy's was thisclose to being a Vegas style show...or so I told myself as I shelled out $100.00 USD (back when USD meant something, I might add!) for a 'VIP Booth'. Hey, your brother only gets married once, right?

Let's boogie!

5. Cherry Pie - Warrant: There are songs that are vapid and stupid that I enjoy...Prince's 'Cream' comes to mind. Then there are songs like 'Cherry Pie' that are just idiotic. And vapid...but not in a manner that comes within striking range of enjoyable. I'll admit that I loathed Warrant, they were no talent ass clowns that appealed to an audience I didn't understand. But I'm not here to debate the relevance of Warrant. They managed to record a song that will live forever within the walls of strip clubs the world over. This song is for your just off the bus stripper with a heart o' gold. A basic plodding and bombastic hard rock tune, perfect for the gal that only has rudimentary dance/pole moves. An elementary song for a paint by numbers performance. Side note - if I saw Warrant lead singer Jani Lane at Target I would probably punch him in the throat.

4. Panama - Van Halen: I love this song. So do strippers. 'Panama' is the perfect song for the hangin' on by a thread older dancer to perform to. It's frantic and thrashes about like a marlin at the end of an electrified fishing line...but, it also has that quiet section where David Lee Roth goes into his soliloquy about making adjustments to the driver's seat in his car, giving an aging dancer needing to catch her breath. There's only so far that performance enhancing drugs (read: cocaine) will take you. Sometimes you need to take a breather.

3. You Shook Me - AC/DC: This song (and the next) are guaranteed to make white girls dance at wedding receptions. What kind of stripper does her thing to 'You Shook Me'? The kind that still has her fast ball working but doesn't want to over use it. This tune gives her perfect cover to throw junk in between giving the audience the heater...and when she does it more than makes up for the hanging curve balls and worm burners she sent bouncing in front of the plate. Confident, mature, with the moxie and experience to work the pitch count in her favor is what describes this working girl.

2. Poor Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard: This song blows. In fact, all of 'Hysteria' blows...but 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' was scientifically created to appeal to drill team types, shy girls at wedding receptions, and strippers. So it's got that going for it. Now, your average stripper just can't saunter out to the main stage and do what she does to this song. That just isn't going to work. There are a couple of tempo/dynamic changes, so she's going to have to adjust her game accordingly. Gentlemen's Club patrons may not be into high falutin culturally relevant entertainment, but they can tell when someone's winging it. The gal we saw at Brandy's had a full blown routine worked out that involved a chair, a leopard skin rug, and Jolly Rancher candy that she tossed into the crowd (our VIP booth was too far from the action to score any Jolly Ranchers...still bummed about that). She was a pro's pro. Side note - as we were leaving the club this dancer jumped into the elevator with us. I was completely intimidated and couldn't make eye contact. My brother, however, was not and asked her for the name of the best dance club in town and if she would like to accompany us to said club. When she asked what kind of dance club we were looking for he said, 'hip hop'. She gave our party a quick look over, smirked and sighed simultaneously and replied, 'you guys aren't hip hop club material'. With that she exited the elevator, climbed into a waiting Town Car, and was whisked out of our lives and into the Vancouver night. We wound up getting into a huge argument with a cab driver and had to walk the mean Canadian streets back to our hotel...with no visits to dance clubs hip hop or otherwise.

1. Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns & Roses: This is one of the most iconic power ballads of the 1980's, even though I don't consider it a ballad. It moves at a much brisker pace than say, 'Home Sweet Home'. The fact that this song, with lyrics an ex of mine described as 'tender', was written by a misogynistic borderline sociopath like Axl Rose is somewhat ironic. Rose's history of violence towards women is well documented, yet he was still able to come across genuinely vulnerable during the first two verses of this song. Axl of course ends this tune with his trademark menacing growl, further illustrating the complicated nature of the former William Bailey's existence. Axl Rose has some serious issues. The same could be said for any stripper that chooses 'Sweet Child O' Mine' as their signature song. Coming out and shimmying around would do this song a grave injustice. This song requires a performance, a story to be told through movement...even if that story is one of fatherly neglect or something far more sinister. The tone of 'Sweet Child O' Mine' changes dramatically after the second guitar solo. Gone are Axl's plaintive vocals, replaced by the pentatonic pyrotechnics of Slash. Gone too is Axl's willingness to open up and wax poetic about the object of his affection, left is confusion...as if Axl is no longer certain as to what comes next now that he has opened up. 'Where do we go now?' is repeated over and over. And it is this phrase and the music that accompanies it transforms this song into the ultimate stripper's anthem. I believe that the last two minutes of this song were a form of primal scream therapy for Axl Rose. The closing stanza has a cathartic effect on the dancer too, giving her the opportunity to physically work out the rage and trigger the emotional fault lines that crisscross her heart and soul. Why pay a therapist when you can get paid to release the turmoil and confusion left in the wake of a dysfunctional daughter/father relationship? It's a psycho-therapy session set to a 4/4 beat, some major chords, and the cat caught in a combine vocal screechings of Axl Rose...and you get paid while doing it. This was the closing number that the headliner at Brandy's finished her set with. By the time the song was over I'm pretty sure I needed therapy. It was at that moment when it kind of dawned on me that strippers are all kind of emotionally damaged and willing to exploit (and be exploited) themselves for a few bucks or loonies. Think about that next time the bachelor party you are attending barges through the doors of a strip joint...but not so much that you forget to tip your waitresses and/or finish that bottle of Grey Goose you dropped $125 on.

Mr. Handycapable

By no stretch of the imagination do I consider myself 'handy' or 'skilled' when it comes to manual labor (manual labor...wasn't he the president of Mexico in the 1930's?). In fact, I am closer to being completely inept than proficient when it comes to making most household repairs...and we are talking remedial tasks like replacing defective light switches (electricity gives me the heebee jeebees). However, over the course of the last month or so I have managed to string together a few repair successes.

It all started when various appliances and machines around the house became sentient and schemed to torment me. If you recall, a couple of months ago the oven started acting up, the garage door jumped the tracks and bent the railing, and various light switches around the house decided to stop working. I first tasted victory repairing the garage door with some WD-40, a rubber mallet, and a pair of vice grips (I took Walt Kowalski's advice to Thao to heart).

After taking a couple of well-deserved victory laps, I decided to tackle the oven. Our oven had been acting schizo for months, throwing various errors that hinted at a control panel issue. I called GE and was told that a tech call would cost $75 to just come out, $75 an hour, the cost of parts and tax...and maybe even a convenience charge if they didn't like how I looked. When I added it all up the repair of the oven was going to cost around $650.00. Now, I don't know about you, but spending $650.00 bucks these days just isn't something I like doing. So, I turned to YouTube, searched my error messages, and found a quick tutorial on insulating the ribbon cables inside the control panel. What happens is that the particular wall oven I have is prone to humidity and steam causing the ribbon cable to short out. To stop this the ribbon cables have to be kept apart. A couple of Hello Kitty post-it notes placed in strategic areas of the control panel solved the issue. I think Walt Kowalski would be proud, Hello Kitty post-its be damned!

I have also managed to patch a small hole in the garage floor, replace some sprinkler heads, and fix some bad PVC piping. Not too bad for a guy that back in high school put a spare tire on his bitchin' 1973 Mercury Comet inside out. Yes, tires can be put on inside out...and no, it will not spin properly.

Monday, June 27, 2011

All Summer Long

Kid Rock is not a favorite of mine. When he burst onto the scene with his, um...special blend of rap and metal, I wasn't impressed. His fan base seemed to be comprised of people that thought Limp Bizkit was too highbrow. Kid Rock made music for meatheads. He's somehow managed to stick around by morphing into some kind of southern rock statesman and has been taken in by the country music establishment. Maybe they believe he gives Dierks Bentley street cred or something. I'm not sure...is there someone we can ask?

Anychiz, about 99.9% of the time I kind of wish someone would beat Kid Rock within an inch of his life with a burlap sack filled with frozen Cornish game hens. I dislike him as an 'artist' that much...but then he went and recorded 'All Summer Long', one of the best summer time songs I can remember. I don't forgive Kid Rock for the crimes against humanity he unleashed upon the world up until 'All Summer Long' came out last year (or was it the year before?), but the burlap sack used to pummel him can be lightened by a hen or two...and maybe a wing from a third. The rest stay to extract payment for 'Bawitdaba'.....

When I can conjure any sort of motivation, I'll post my 5 favorite 'Summer Songs'...maybe even before summer ends!

*Sings to self...'drinkin' whiskey out the bottle...'

Thursday, June 9, 2011

1994 Camry With Oil Leak

I've been chasing oil leaks in the Camry for over 2 years now. The latest leaks are coming from the rear main seal and, from what I can tell, the high pressure hose that appears to be attached to the power steering pump...this is a 6 cylinder engine and it still starts with no problems and has plenty of power. I just don't know if I should sell this thing for $1000 bucks, trade it in for half that, or sink another $1000 dollars (or more) into it to try and stop the leaks. The exterior is in okay shape, but the interior is a borderline disaster. I'm leaning towards selling it for what I can get rather than have it repaired...my big fear is that even a new rear main seal will leak given the age of the engine and the fact that it has close to 265k miles on it.

What to do, what to do?!?!?

Radio Gaga

I just finished successfully mowing the lawn with the non-self propelled mower that The Better Half thought I was too feeble to shove around the yard. Yes, well. The lawn is mowed, and I was able to remain (mostly) upright afterward.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world....sales of Lady Gaga's 'Born This Way' cliff dived into the abyss last week. After selling close to 1.2 million copies during the first week of release (440k of those sales were of the Amazon.com 99 cent special variety), 'Born This Way' only moved 185k units week 2...that's an 85% decline. Does this mean the bloom is off the Gaga rose? Possibly...'Born This Way' the song was much better when it was called 'Express Yourself' and performed by Madonna. The other cuts on the album are even weaker. Take away the exploitation and pandering to her gay audience (a page out of the annoying and talentless Kathy Griffin playbook), the contrived spectacle, and her posing as a bullied outsider and all you have left is a mediocre pop singer that can't dance. She's a female version of Papa Doc/Clarence from '8 Mile', a prep school dandy going full reverse status. 'Poker Face' was a legitimately good pop song...everything since then has been crap. A performer with 10 million Twitter followers and 30 million Facebook fans that only sells 1.3 million albums should have one very nervous record label convulsing with fear.

ESPN's Bill Simmons, aka The Sports Guy, kicked off his new website yesterday. Grantland has been underwhelming so far, but it is most definitely brought to you by Subway, home of the pressed meat bits sub sandwich. Simmons used to be one of the few writers on the interwebs that would get a chuckle out of me...then he went and started working for Jimmy Kimmel and, as he himself would say, lost his fastball. His 'Book Of Basketball' was very good, but his Celtics bias was evident from page one. We'll see if Grantland reawakens Simmons the writer, or just be another outlet for his self-indulgent/congratulatory podcasts.

Go Mavs!

Monday, June 6, 2011

Good News/Bad News

I finally located the missing water feature pump over the weekend. That's the good news - the dastardly pump managed to slip behind the heavy duty shelving in the garage, hoping to avoid a summer of hard labor spent pumping water through fiberglass rocks.

The bad news is that I was lead to the pump by a ghastly trail of dried rodent blood. I fight a semi-annual war with the field mice that make their way from the greenbelt to the house. Their big offensive occurs in the fall, but every spring the hantavirus carrying vermin test my perimeter defenses. The poor bastard that led me to the pump set a trap off that clamped down on it's hindquarters, and the amount of flailing that transpired must have been epic in proportion to the mouse's diminutive stature. This mouse was going to his inevitable demolition roaring like a mighty lion and thrashing like, um...some animal that thrashes when trapped. (Note - I'm not a zoologist) Anyhoo, as I was cleaning up the carnage from the lil' varmint's struggle to save his own miserable plague ridden life, I peaked behind the shelves...and there was the pump. While I feel bad that a rodent had to lose his life in order for me to stumble upon the missing pump, I am thankful all the same. That mouse's inability to set a trap off head first saved me $40.00....although I may have used close to that amount in bleach while cleaning the garage.

My electric razor is still missing, here's hoping a dead badger doesn't figure in the eventual location of that gadget.

In other news, I'm still fat and my knees are giving out at an alarming rate. I may have to stop running on the treadmill because no amount of ice and anti-inflammatory medication is mitigating the pain and discomfort. I could hardly leave my desk today, and when I did get up my first couple of steps would have made Fred Sanford look spry. I know I've b*tched and moaned about my knees before, but this is different. In the past I would drop a few elbees and run through the pain as it would eventually subside. This pain is constant though, and I know my right knee is bone on bone grinding on bone with little bits of bone and cartilage making things that much more interesting. I'm going to have to stop running...bottom line. If I'm going to be remotely mobile in my 40's then I'll have to sacrifice the treadmill time.

I didn't run tonight, but I did take the bike out for a spin. I made it up the big incline without going into cardiac arrest, so I had that going for me. Unfortunately, I was in so much oxygen debt when I finished the climb I was afraid I was going to get the bends when I eventually caught my breath. Biking didn't kill my knees the way running did, but I still iced down and stretched out. Here's hoping I can walk to the train tomorrow without wincing.

Oh, and Japan is finding plutonium over a mile away from the failed nuclear plant...and a mutant ear-less bunny was located near the plant as well...and it more than likely has an insatiable appetite for human flesh. This is how zombie apocalypse scenarios begin, my friends....

Monday, May 30, 2011

Around The World In A Day - A Look Back Review

I became a die-hard Prince fan upon seeing the video for '1999' on NBC's Friday Night Videos. The tatty lil' cable carrier we had in Port Orchard didn't bring us MTV until mid-1984, no matter how much we exclaimed and raged to the heavens that we indeed wanted our MTV in Port Orchard well before then. ANYWAY, the video for '1999' was a performance piece, Prince and his pre-Revolution band doing what they did on a purple lit stage. I dug the song, but I was also enthralled with Prince...he kind of looked like Michael Jackson, just funkier...and he played guitar...and unlike MJ, he had scantily clad hot chicks in his band on keyboards...and a white dude in hospital scrubs on keyboards as well...and a Mexican looking drummer even though the track was obviously recorded using a Linn drum machine...and a shirtless greased up bass player even though the bass was buried in the mix deeper than Jimmy Hoffa...and Dex Dickerson, by-far the coolest sidekick Prince ever had, on guitar. There was just something about the trench coat clad Prince that spoke to me.

After 1984's 'Purple Rain', I was a full-blown Prince fanatic. In retrospect, my obsession with Prince was a wee bit...embarrassing. I tried growing a Prince moustache throughout jr high and high school with little success. I looked more like Freddy Prinze than Prince. I even attempted to grow my hair like Prince's, but back then my hair grew big, not long...so again, more Freddie Prinze with a little Epstein from Welcome Back Kotter on the side. But enough about me...

1984's 'Purple Rain' catapulted Prince into the national and international spotlight. The movie and soundtrack were both wildly successful, the album moving in excess of 13 million units when all was said and done. As spring of 1985 approached, word leaked that a new Prince album was on the horizon. No one knew what to expect, but expectations were high.

Prince's follow up to 'Purple Rain', 'Around The World In A Day', was released on April 22nd, 1985. To say that 'ATWIAD' threw Prince's fans off would be an understatement. Only Weezer's 'Pinkerton' album has created the kind of furor and uproar in a fan community the way 'ATWIAD' split Prince's fan base that spring.

Rumor has it that Prince did a musical 180 from 'Purple Rain' to rid himself of Johnny Come Lately fans. Tired of the so-called 'Minneapolis Sound' that dominated '1999' and 'Purple Rain', it was believed that Prince wanted to branch out and try something new. That is all well and good, but I'm not buying that Prince purposely made an album to alienate a portion of his fan base. The reason this theory exists is that 'ATWIAD' is such a complete departure from everything else Prince had released to date. Gone were the horn tinged keyboards and chattering guitar licks, in were sitars, cellos, and Eastern percussion instruments. The radical departure from 'Purple Rain' has more to do with Prince's restless talent and his growing interest in folk and 60's era pop than it does a desire to cull his fanbase...which is exactly what happened as 'ATWIAD' struggled to do 1/7th the business its predecessor did.

The album opens up with the title track, an Eastern/psychedelic inspired meandering tune that exhorts the listener to 'open your heart, open your mind'. It is evident early on that 'ATWIAD' is not 'Purple Rain 2.0' as the instrumentation on this song could have come straight out of 'Ravi Shankar Inspired Beatles Tunes For Dummies'. In fact, most reviews I remember about this album upon release tried to make favorable comparisons of tracks from the record to songs from the Beatles catalog. That, like Mr. Fantastic, was a stretch.

Track 2 is 'Paisley Park', another mid-tempo wannabe psychedelic tune. Prince goes so far as to ape John Lennon's lyrics on this one (The girl on the seesaw is laughing/4 love is the color/This place imparts), attempting to recreate the vivid mental images from 'I Am The Walrus'. Looking back, it (all) seems so contrived and misses wildly lyrically. Melody wise 'Paisley Park' again conjures The Beatles psychedelic era, somewhat reminding me of 'Penny Lane', but crappier.

The next song is 'Condition Of The Heart', and the placement of this song points to one of the albums glaring weaknesses - track placement. A more apt song in the third slot would have been 'Raspberry Beret', Prince instead kills what little momentum the first two tracks builds up and derails the whole endeavor with a 6:46 ballad. On it's own, 'Condition Of The Heart' is one of Prince's better ballads. The instrumentation is sparse, the piano melody is gorgeous, as is Prince's sporadic acoustic guitar fills and his use of percussion. Prince's vocals are the epitome of loneliness, and his delivery of the line 'thinking about you driving me crazy' still gives me goosebumps. The song is one of the strongest on the album, but making it the third track on the record is still a puzzling decision. From a narrative and musical point of view, 'Condition Of The Heart' should follow track 4, 'Raspberry Beret'...

...and 'Raspberry Beret' was the big single off of 'ATWIAD' and one of Prince's best all-around songs. Equal parts pop, funk, and psychedelica, 'Raspberry Beret' is one of the few Prince songs from the 1980's that doesn't sound dated and forever locked in the rock hard purple amber of 'Purple Rain' or 'Let's Go Crazy'. While the song certainly received a ton of air play, and the video even more (why, hello there, Pat Smear!), it still sounds as good today as it did in 1985.

'Tambourine' is a complete and utter throwaway of a song, a tired double entendre with an annoying vocal and jittery rhythm track. Equally annoying is 'America', an attempt by Prince to be political. Unfortunately, Prince's take on Reagan's America is simultaneously cliched, naive, and just plain dumb. He was much more effective with 'Ronnie Talk To Russia' from the Controversy album. On 'America', Prince's lyrics are a sophomoric take on 'America The Beautiful', his thoughts on America in 1985. While other artists have made political statements using traditionally patriotic songs (most notably, Jimi Hendrix's version of 'The Star Spangled Banner), Prince's attempt falls flat with 'America'. Somewhere in this world exists a 21 minute version of this song that supposedly makes more sense musically and lyrically than the album cut. Side note - Prince would again dip his toes into political and social commentary on 'Sign O' The Times' and is much, much more effective...

The lush 'Pop Life' follows the disjointed clusterfarg that is tracks 5 & 6. Again, Prince takes a stab at social and political commentary, but unlike 'America' it works this time. Prince's delivery of certain lines is spot on perfect. The song failed to make a huge dent on the charts, but this is the second best track on the album after 'Raspberry Beret'.

Remember what I wrote regarding track sequencing? The two songs that end the album are a complete disaster...collapsing under gargantuan mountains of pretentiousness. 'The Ladder' is supposed to crystalize Prince's vision of spirituality and his quest for heaven and redemption...or something like that. What we are left with instead is a tepid track that manages to be self-indulgent, self-important, and boring all at once. While certainly more bombastic than 'The Ladder', album closer 'Temptation' almost plays like a caricature of a Prince song. With lyrics such as 'working my body with a hot flash of animal lust' one has to wonder if Prince was joking when he put pen to paper on this one. I would call the soliloquy at the end of the song nothing short of stupid if it weren't so ridiculous - "Silly man, that's not how it works...you have to want her for the right reasons...I do...You don't, now die!!!...No, no, let me go, let me go...I'm sorry, I'll be good this time, I promise...love is more important than sex...Now I understand, I have to go now...I don't know when I'll return, goodbye."

The last line sparked some talk that Prince was going to 'retire', maybe pull a Bob Dylan and disappear for a while and not tour or record. He of course reemerged in 1986 with 'Parade' and movie 'Under The Cherry Moon' (which needs its own retro review at some point).

'Around The World In A Day' is certainly not Prince's worst album, or even most disappointing as 'Come' and 'Emancipation' have those two spots on permanent lock down. However, 'ATWIAD' is a harbinger of things to come with Prince...for every great track you get three middling to gawd awful songs...and I'll always wonder why two of Prince's stronger b-sides, 'Hello' and 'She's Always In My Hair', were left off the album while 'Tambourine' and 'America' made the cut. Swapping out those songs takes 'ATWIAD' from mediocre to excellent.

Grading on a 5 churro scale, I give 'Around The World In A Day' a 2 churro rating.

And The Beat Goes On...

I can now add my electric razor to the list of items that have turned on me and/or vanished into thin air. As of today, I still can't find the water feature pump, the stove is still acting janky...at least the garage doors are behaving, for now at least.

The electric razor disappearing is particularly troubling as I normally keep it in the glove box of the car. That way, on mornings I'm running late, I can grind it into my face as I careen down the hill in my car on the way to the train. I can't stand being unshaven, even on weekends, as stubble makes my face look fatter than it already is. Not having my electric razor as a backup means I have to be on top of my game and wake up earlier to shave my puffy face...

Maddy and I made a Sam's Club trip over the weekend. The Beatles 'Day Tripper' was playing and I noticed Maddy had her 'thinking' expression going full bore. I asked what was on her mind and our conversation went like this:

Me - 'Maddy, whatcha thinking about?'
Maddy - 'This song, it's called 'Day Tripper'.
Me - 'Yep, this is 'Day Tripper'...
Maddy - 'Why did The Beatles write a song about grandma?'
Me - 'What do you mean? I don't think this song is abo...'
Maddy - 'Grandma doesn't like to drive at night, she has to take her trips in the car before the sun goes down. That means she's a day tripper, just like in the song.'
Me - 'I've never thought about this song in that way, that's an interesting interpretation.'
Maddy - 'Yeah, kids hear things differently, papa. You should listen to what we have to say.'

And with that, we arrived at Sam's Club...and I was once again amazed at Maddy's take on the world around her.

The entire family made a trip to IKEA over the weekend as well. I've called IKEA the WalMart for the hipster doofus set in the past, and I will continue to do so. The only thing differentiating IKEA's cheap imported inventory from WalMart's cheap imported inventory is perception of country of origin. Does anyone think that IKEA would be as popular with the ironic t-shirt and skinny jeans crowd if they realized the BILLY was probably manufactured in China alongside the WalMart furniture? I swear, even though IKEA posts country of origin, most of their customers believe their press board shelves were being manufactured by happy blue-eyed Swedes and not Chinese laborers. It is this perception that allows IKEA a pass from the same people that rail against WalMart and their 'cheap, Chinese' furniture. Ignorance is indeed bliss.

Anyhoo, IKEA - we needed three more chairs as the girls are done with the little kid table they have been eating at. Maddy and Jossy are tall enough to sit in normal chairs (well, Jossy is close...) and Katelyn can't deal with sitting at the kid table by herself. We had purchased chairs from IKEA four years ago to match the Pottery Barn table The Better Half received as a bonus from work. TBH could have purchased chairs from Pottery Barn as well, but PB wanted $160.00 per chair while IKEA had similar chairs at 1/3 the price. So, we bought two...I guess we thought the girls would never sit there or something. Well, the girls are all grown and we bought two more chairs to match the original chairs and a junior chair for Katelyn. The chairs are of decent quality, but assembling the junior chair took about 20 minutes, mainly due to the piss poor instructions and illustrations and partly due to the girls wanting to 'help' put it together.

Navigating the IKEA labyrinth to get to the chairs was excruciating. Not only was their always a throng of shoppers in the way, the slack-jawed employees seemed to be mindlessly milling about. It was bizarre...they just wandered in groups of 2-3 down the aisles with no particular place to go. By the time we reached the self-serve warehouse to get the chairs, I was seething, especially since the chairs we wanted were not readily available on the warehouse shelves. I tried tracking an employee down, but they all disappeared on me so I had to take matters into my own hands. I scaled the shelves and found the boxes I needed, shoved them onto the rollers, and placed them in the cart. All of this was more or less a gross violation of IKEA policy, but I was ready to get out of there...so it was either I take self-serve a step further than policy dictate, or I take swings at random people out of pure rage. I think we are all better off that I chose option one.

Happy Memorial Day to all those that have served and appreciation to the fallen. I'm at work, watching as 18 wheeler after 18 wheeler pulls into Qwest Field with U2's gear for their upcoming show....Bono's ego will be trucked in separately later on this week...I hear that's a double trailer rig.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Shave And A Haircut

So, what does buying at the peak of the housing bubble and selling into a downward spiral look like? Take a gander at this house here:

http://www.redfin.com/WA/Auburn/5727-Francis-Ct-SE-98092/home/3001309

The sellers purchased this home from the original owners in 2005 for $540,000 and made a nice profit. The second owners (or the bank, this was probably a foreclosure) just sold for $339,000, a $200,000 loss. That loss is going to leave a mark in someone's books...

Still think it's a great time to buy a house? Think again - we are no where near a housing bottom, analysts are revising calls for us hitting bottom this summer to as far out as 2016.

Remember folks, a house is not an investment, it's shelter...and it's about damn time those in the lending and housing industry start treating it as such.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Thompson Evans Square Are Not Detective

Yep, it's been a while. I have no excuses.

Anyway - last week was an interesting one. On Monday night I took The Better Half to see Sara Evans at the Auburn Performing Arts Center. I had no idea that Auburn had a performing arts center and even less of an idea as to why someone of Sara Evans stature would play a gig there. It turns out that the Auburn Performing Arts Center is at Auburn High School. The theater isn't quite as nice as the theater at South Kitsap High School, but I haven't stepped foot in that theater since 1993. For all I know SKHS remodeled the place. Have they? Hmmmm...

So yeah, Sara Evans. When I first heard about the show I thought the radio ad said that the Thompson Twins were opening for Sara. I said to myself, 'Sweet! I hope they play 'We Are Detective' 'cause that song is totally underrated." Yes, well...having the Thompson Twins open for Sara Evans makes less sense than Sara Evans playing a gig at Auburn High School. The Thompson Twins did not open the show, Thompson Square did and they did not play 'We Are Detective'. Who the hell is Thompson Square? They are an adorable husband & wife team of singer/songwriters. Their debut album peaked at #3 on the country charts and the single 'Are You Gonna Kiss Me' hit #1.

Thompson Square played most of the material from their debut album. It was an acoustic set with Keifer Thompson on guitar as the only musical accompaniment. They also tossed in a random cover of Tom Petty's 'I Won't Back Down' that was, of course, dedicated to the troops overseas. What I really liked about Thompson Square is that they haven't been spit-shined to an annoying shimmering gloss like so many other country acts. They were a little rough around the edges and they have managed to maintain their personalities as a couple and as performers. If I ever see them again I'm hoping that they refuse to be put through the Nashville Image Make Over Machine and hold on to that organic quality.

The highlight of Thompson Square's set was two ballads - the first being 'Glass' off of their album, the second being a cover of Bruce Springsteen's 'Brilliant Disguise' that was served up with an extra spoonful of poignancy due to Keifer and Shawna Thompson's obvious affection for each other...singing a song about marital distrust may seem an odd choice, but TS nailed it...and Shawna Thompson has a crystal clear and emotive voice. She adds the spark to some of the deeper album cuts that would come across as Open Mic quality without her.

I have two things to say about Sara Evans: She is absolutely stunning to look at live (she cleans up nicely for photo shoots as well), and she is a complete and total professional. A lot of performers would mail in a small gig at a high school theater, but not Sara...she didn't belt out a whole set (I likened the show to that of an MLB pitcher working on a strict pitch count), but she didn't cut corners either. She ran through all of her big hits, including 'Stronger' and 'Suds In The Bucket', and her band was comprised of top notch musicians (when the lead guitarist ripped off one flawless solo after another, Del McCroury's 'Nashville Cats' ran through my head) although the second guitarist looked like an unfrozen Geico caveman. That caveman comment didn't detract from the performance, but it needed to be said. So I said it.

I think the best part about Sara's set was that it felt very spontaneous and intimate. She gave off the impression that she wasn't sure what she agreed to when she boarded the plane in Alabama earlier that morning and arrived in Sea-Tac (via a layover in Houston) 8 hours later. She seemed a little loopy and tired, but like I said, she was nothing but professional...Sara was also engaged with the audience, told some funny personal stories, and appeared to have a good time. Her set was short and sweet, but I don't think anyone left feeling cheated...

...except for the row of very special people that sat behind The Better Half and I. Now, this was about as straightforward a concert review as I have ever written. There was no alcohol poisoning Tom foolery , no Honey Bucket episodes, no near fist fight ballyhoo. Caveman comments aside, I've kept this on target...but I have to say something about the folks behind us. When I say 'very special people', I mean very special people. They tried to sing through the whole show, but no one knew the words...I take that back, one of them knew the word 'stronger' was prominently featured in the song of that word in the title...the problem was that he sang about a beat and a half behind Sara Evans...and this was a small venue, so during quiet moments in a song like 'A Little Bit Stronger' this very off key and LOUD voice would be singing a verse or chorus that already ended. It was...distracting...and when the show ended with no encore I thought there was going to be a very special riot. The aspiring vocalist began rattling off Sara Evans songs that weren't performed and he was upset...so upset that I thought he was going to take a swing at his chaperon. The Better Half and I had to hoof it out of our section before someone got hurt.

The only other incidents that kind of bothered me involved new parents that brought an infant and a toddler to the gig. Both kids unleashed unholy wails of displeasure throughout the show. At one point I thought the sound man was going to ask them to leave...oh, and Jake Locker was in attendance. He got all kinds of applause from the crowd. I was kind of hoping they would ask him to hand the mic to Sara Evans just so I could giggle when he tossed it over her head or sent it skipping across the stage by her feet. That would have been awesome...but not as awesome as it would have been if Thompson Square broke out a cover of 'We Are Detective'. I love that song!

Monday, May 2, 2011

What's Old Is New...

I broke down and bought a new lawnmower. I've never had to shop for a mower before. The one I had been using for the last 8 years was a hand-me-down...the one before that was a gift to The Better Half that we left with the old house. So, a couple of weekends ago Katelyn and I moseyed on down to Lowe's and I picked out a lawnmower...a red little number that isn't self-propelled...with absolutely no help from anyone that worked the Garden Center at Lowe's. I've become accustomed to no one knowing how to do their jobs anymore though, it's part of the consumer experience these days. From the orange vested dopes at Home Depot to the blue polo shirt wearing maroons at Best Buy, nobody can answer questions pertaining to the area of the store they are assigned to. They may as well be geraniums, at least then they would function in an ornamental fashion.

The mower not being self-propelled has been an ongoing source of controversy in our house. The Better Half, after finding out that the new mower was All-Me powered, said, 'You're in your forties, you should make life easier on yourself, not harder.' Yes, well. Here's the deal - the day I can't push a fargin lawnmower around my yard is the day I hire some punk teenage neighbor kid to do the job. I'll sit on the patio with a tumbler of bourbon in my hands and point out all the spots he/she missed...then I'll chase them off the lawn.

By the way, I'm not 'in my forties', I just started my forties...big difference.

Easter was a joy. The night before we met up with our neighbors for some snacks and drinks while the kids decorated eggs and participated in general mayhem. It was the kind of night that makes me happy that I live in the 'burbs with people I enjoy spending time with. Some people become physically ill when the thought of living in a suburb crosses their mind, but I love it. I get enough city life during the work week.

We went to church Easter Sunday and then off to my folks out on the peninsula for dinner and what have you. The Pescado brother was there as well, and it's always nice for the girls to spend time with him.

Lessee, what else has been going on...every item I own that is on the electrical grid has turned on me. The revolt has been subtle, but the electron powered bastards are out to kill me slowly but surely with their little mind eff games. First, the pump to the water feature has gone missing. It was in the garage all winter long, but when I went to find it the damn thing had vanished into the ether. It is not hiding in the shed or the cabinets, it has literally disappeared. The oven has been acting up as well, the interior light turning on and off randomly. That's kind of...creepy...images of Carole Ann in the TV come to mind. Yesterday, my garage door opener made a break for it as well, joining the Andy Dufresne-like water pump in Zihuatanejo, Mexico or something. Earlier this evening, the smaller of the two garage doors decided to literally jump the rails. I had to spend 15 minutes with a pair of pliers, a rubber mallet, and a can of WD-40 to beat the garage door into submission. I fully expect the car to go full blown 'Christine' on me tomorrow on my drive to the train.

Speaking of the train, I forgot to tap my Orca pass on the card reader this morning...a morning the fare enforcement officers were checking for that sort of thing. I'm not sure why I forgot to tap my pass, perhaps because I was running late after having my world turned upside down due to the missing garage door opener. Either way, I forgot to tap and my card pinged the officers magic wand. I had to break out my license so he could snap a photo of it and put me in 'the database'. That's how my day started. A literal giant of a man with Herman Munster sized feet reading me the riot act for not following Sounder protocol. How did it end? I used the off limits due to construction restrooms on our floor at work before heading to the train. When I exited, the CEO of the company was standing outside the door checking out the progress of the build out. That was awkward. At least I tapped my Orca pass boarding the train for the ride home.

I keep promising to post about Prince's 'Around The World In A Day' album, but I keep failing to do so. My three faithful readers are quickly learning what my kids figured out a while ago...I say about of crap that doesn't come true. Anyhoo, I'll post my retrospective review...eventually. Until then, His Royal Badness found himself in foreclosure recently. Turns out he owed back payments to the tune of $368k, so the bank foreclosed. The sheriff removed the property from the auction block when a check for the full amount of the mortgage was received by the lender. I guess he got an advance for all those upcoming gigs at the Staples Center.

It has been an interesting couple of years for Prince financially and otherwise. The music he has been releasing has been mediocre at best. He has also made some dubious financial decisions. Then there were the reports that Prince was living the life of a drug eating gimp because he refused double hip replacement surgery. All those years humpin' his amps and what have ya took their toll.

My one desire as a Prince fan is for him to lose some of the warmed over funk and put out a straight ahead hard rockin' album or a combo of the rock/funk/pop that made him a star in the first place. The self-indulgent nonsense that he's churning out is just tedious.

That's all I've got for now...oh, Bin Laden is dead...

Monday, April 18, 2011

Lawnmower Man

My lawnmower died yesterday. After a particularly brutal stretch of muddy lawn the belt that drives the blade and self-propelled front wheels snapped like Private Pyle in 'Full Metal Jacket'. There was a loud bang and then the engine seized up. I'm hoping that all I need is a new belt and that the Lawnmower Man that resides in the trailer park at the bottom of the hill can fix it. Cheap. Otherwise I'll have to buy a new lawnmower or a used one at a garage sale and, to be honest, that's not an expense I was planning on.

Now, a new decent lawnmower (not a fancy pants Honda or John Deere or Toro) will cost around 300 bones. That's not an awful lot of money, but it's enough to derail my savings plans to prepare for the upcoming zombie apocalypse, 2012 Mayan fever dream natural disasters, airborne Ebola outbreak or, God forbid, my AC unit giving up the ghost this summer. I can't have a busted up lawnmower eating into my budget for emergency food supplies and bullets. Lots and lots of bullets. I know some financial advisers have diversified their clients into gold. Me? I've taken out a long position on lead and lead delivery systems. If I'm going to defend this cul-de-sac from marauding hordes of zombies infected with hemorrhagic fever during a heat wave I am going to need ammo and plenty of it. And overpriced freeze dried peaches. That should get the job done.

Soooooo, remember when I went off on hipster doofus types that sarcastically ask 'what's a CD'? Well, here's a shocker for ya...I'm going to be a wee bit hypocritical. Why? Because I cannot stand people that read the newspaper on the train. Newspapers are dumb. The 'news' they are reporting on is stale before the ink is dry. The paper is also cumbersome and unwieldy and again, dumb. Why not skip on the newspaper and invest in a phone that allows you to get news as close to up to the minute as possible? I honestly feel like snatching the newspapers out of the hands of these stuck in the past cretins, wadding it up, and then feeding it to them section by section. Yes, well.

The Better Half and I watched 'Country Strong' this weekend. I liked that movie much more when Jeff Bridges starred in it, the music was better, and it was called 'Crazy Heart'. 'Country Strong' was just 'Country Wrong' (see what I did there...zing!) in my book. The movie had the subtle stink of condescension and a general loathing for the subject matter...I don't know if a movie can sneer at the audience it was intended for, but 'Country Strong' comes close. I'm also getting tired of Tim McGraw, um...actor. He sucks. The best part of his performance in 'Country Strong' was his Nic Cage hair piece. He needs to go back to being Mr. Faith Hill, weak voiced style over substance no talent having ass clown...and not since Minnie Driver in 'Good Will Hunting' has a female love interest had a forehead as pronounced and prominent as Leighton Meester's. For a moment there during the movie I thought I fell asleep and woke up to catch National Geographic's documentary on Neanderthals. That was a great documentary. 'Country Strong' sucked a mountain of baboon arse.

I hit up Top Foods after my workout tonight. Had to get some bread, milk and cream cheese. The lines were quite long in the early evening and while I was waiting one of the personal trainers from my gym got in line behind me...the trainer chiseled out of granite with the physique of a super hero. This guy. I got all uncomfortable due to the heavy carb and fat content of my groceries. He was buying broccoli and more broccoli and a small piece of carrot cake as a reward for taking 4th overall this past weekend at Emerald Cup. I got so uncomfortable with my purchases that I turned around and started talking to him...and me trying to talk when feeling uncomfortable is a fargin train wreck. Anyhoo, I turned around, held up my basket and said, 'this is just a horrific basket of groceries to be lugging around in front of a personal trainer'. He laughed...and punched me in the face....well, no. He did show me the carrot cake, so I felt better...until he told me he is an all natural body builder and is five years older than me. Then I felt sad and tubby and gross...so I came home and ate both tubs of cream cheese right out of the container. Okay, I didn't do that...but I felt like it. He has indirectly shamed me into a low carb routine...shame is a powerful motivator.

That's all I've got for now...coming tomorrow, the long awaited retro-review of Prince's 'Around The World In A Day'! Woot?

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Say Wha?

It turns out that sketchy convenience stores in the downtown area are good for more than just buying non-winning lotto tickets and getting shot in the head like Harrison Ford in ‘Regarding Henry’ – you can also buy somewhat obscure candy bars at these places (while sidestepping winos and hobos in the doorway). I bought a Whatchamacalit at lunch today to celebrate the raise I wasn’t certain I would get…not because I’m a shite employee, but because I’m somewhat paranoid about those sorts of things. Anyhoo, I hadn’t seen a Whatchmacalit in the wild for years, so I was kind of excited about the purchase as this was my favorite candy bar as a kid. While the packaging was the same, the candy itself was shrunk down quite a bit…it’s much flatter than it used to be while the cost has shot up about 200%. Still, I enjoyed my celebratory Whatchamacalit and the opportunity to play dodge the wino in the doorway.

I was finally able to mow the bog I call a backyard over the weekend. I also hauled about 400 lbs of Preen infused mulch around and distributed it amongst the various flower beds…but no matter how many bags of mulch you buy, you always wind up 3 bags short. So, I’ll be making a stop at Lowe’s on the way home for more…

Speaking of hardware stores – beware of Home Depot and their home consultants. We asked for someone to come out from Home Depot to give us an estimate on some windows. The seals on just about all of our downstairs windows have failed…one to the point that water is actually building up between the panes of glass, so we need windows. I thought I made it clear to the Home Depot rep that called me and the gent that showed up at our house that we just wanted an estimate and to save the high pressure sales tactics. Well, guess what didn’t happen? The Home Depot window rep has been all but stalking me since visiting our house 10 days ago. I get a call a day from him, sometimes two…and once he even swung by the house unannounced. That is completely unacceptable. So, guess which company we WON’T be hiring to replace our windows? If you said, ‘Home Depot’, you win! I’m not sure when the meaning of the word ‘estimate’ became ‘please harass me and overstay your welcome in my home as I repeatedly tell you that I am not buying new windows today…or tomorrow…or ever from you!’

So, yeah – nice work, Home Depot windows consultant, you talked your company out of work…and I don’t even think I want to step foot in one of your stores again!

The Better Half and I finally watched ‘Black Swan’ over the weekend. I thought it was okay, although both of us were laughing at the absurdity of the movie more than once. Nice bit of work in casting Winona Ryder as the aging and unhinged ballerina, she was much better than ‘hot girl du jour’ Mila Kunis. I fear Darren Aronofsky is turning into a bit of a one trick pony as a director as ‘Black Swan’ had a lot in common with ‘The Wrestler’ as far as story arc is concerned. In fact, both movies end in a similar manner…I give it a 6 on a scale of 1-10 mehs.

You know what was compelling TV? ESPN’s 30 for 30 on Marcus Dupree…in fact, all of the 30 for 30s I have watched have been outstanding, especially the docs on the former Yugoslavian basketball team and Pablo/Andres Escobar. Both are worth watching if you get the chance….

That’s all I’s gots for now…

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Back Amongst The Living

Whatever illness that was visited upon me has finally been exorcised from me. I still have some lung congestion, but I was able to work out last night. While I didn't set any records on the treadmill, I did hit three miles in under 35 minutes...yeah, it was 34:56, but under 35 minutes. I'll take it.

One of the benefits of my illness is that all food tasted gross, so I subsisted on V8, fruit, and the occasional bowl of Campbell's alphabet soup. That means I dropped 15 lbs in just under 9 days due to my slo-mo anorexic diet and dehydration. I've put 4 of those elbees back on due to re-hydrating, but the appetite is still suppressed...and I'll deal with that as I could stand to lose about another 30 lbs.

Not much else is going on. It's review time at work - again. Quarterly reviews suck a mountain of arse, not sure why we don't flip to a semi-annual cycle. Quarterly reviews dilute the impact and effectiveness of the feedback, in my opinion. So, I'll have to sequester myself away and find new and exciting ways to tell my direct reports that they are meeting expectations. Good times.

Oh, a little more Taylor Swift bashing...in her latest song 'Mean' she takes some shots at someone that told her she can't sing, so she calls him 'mean'. Notice that she didn't say he was wrong, because then she'd be lying. I understand why Taylor Swift is popular with tween and teen girls, but what I don't understand is the music industry's insistence on letting her perform live. Taylor Swift is a train wreck when she sings live. Her flat delivery and 1/2 octave range coupled with her spastic gyrations and hair flips makes her unwatchable. At some point Swift's fans are going to grow up and abandon her in droves...and she just doesn't have the vocal chops to carry on to appeal to a mature audience. Her Sweet Valley High meets Judy Blume lyrics will have to evolve as well if she ever wants to be taken seriously.

Monday, March 28, 2011

I Be Illin'

The illness that was visited upon me simply refuses to recede and slither back to the shadowy and dank underworld where it was conceived. Yes, the feverish attacks subsided, so no more violent shivering and enamel wrecking teeth chattering...but the sore throat, coughing, and skull crushing headaches persist. I've also developed some intense sinus pressure and my left ear keeps popping.

I went to see a doctor Saturday morning, and she diagnosed whooping cough, which at the time seemed correct (although 'whooping' through her Vietnamese accent came out sounding like 'woofing'...I tried not to giggle). Now I am not so sure. Either way, she put me on a 5 day 'Z-Pack', so whatever I have, if bacterial in nature, will be wiped out. At least, that's what I am hoping for.

Now, if whatever illness I have is viral in nature then the Z-Pack is going to do sweet eff all about it. I'm worried that I am now into day 3 of the antibiotics and, according to my woofing cough diagnosing doctor, I should be feeling much, much better. But I don't. I feel the same as I did on Saturday...

Part of me wants to go see my previous doctor, the totally awesome Dr. Duran. The only problem with that plan is that he doesn't accept my insurance anymore and his office is spectacularly inefficient. Even with an appointment you are giving up at least 2 hours of your day, which is usually well worth it because he's a great doctor.

It's 8:40 AM, I've taken a shower, ate some apple slices for breakfast (I've lost 13 pounds since all of this started last Wednesday...and I'm not complaining about the weight loss, I just wish it happened in a more healthy manner), and I am completely wiped out and heading back to bed.

In the meantime, you can amuse yourself with these terrifying photos of giant rattlesnakes...these pics are good ol' fashioned nightmare fuel, even if most of them are hoaxes.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Sunny Side Of The Street

What does Rachel Uchitel have in common with the random lunatic that sat next to me on the bus earlier today? They are both addicted to lip gloss. The unattractive gal that planted herself across the aisle from me had some serious, serious issues. Not only was she dressed like an extra from ‘8 Mile’ (yo, it’s goin’ down at The Shelter!) with enough Sean John gear to finance P. Shiddy’s next vehicle purchase, she smelled like tomato basil soup. And she was addicted to lip gloss.

Her lip gloss routine can only be described as precise. She would take out a tube of Blistix and go ‘round and ‘round her lips three times, lick them, and then apply a purple-ish lip gloss over the top in four sweeps.. A few moments would go by and she would repeat the process. Over the course of three stops in the tunnel she performed this operation seven times…and it was always three applications of Blistix, a lick o’ the lips, and then the purple lip gloss. By the time I got off the bus she looked like she had been bobbing for pork chops that had been suspended in a vat of Crisco.

This level of crazy doesn’t approach the batsh*t insanity of ‘Lotion Man’, a wandering nutter that I would see from time to time in the Eastlake area…but it is definitely over the top OCD behavior. I’m wondering if this lip gloss fascination manifested itself due to her being nervous while riding a bus through the tunnel though…she looked as normal as she possibly could when she hopped aboard. It was only when we got rolling did the Blistix/lip gloss come out. Either way, it was bizarre…but not so bizarre I couldn’t share it with my 4 loyal readers though!

Moving on - Sunny days in Seattle means the return of sidewalk mystery liquid!!! Yep, nothing like walking down a sidewalk on a day with no measurable precipitation and encountering a puddle of standing liquid in direct sunlight…how did it get there and what the eff is it? It is best to just walk around and give said puddle a wide-berth, it may become self aware and attack you like the lake blob from Creepshow…

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Hero Of Nobody...

...I get the strange feeling that the Hero Of Nobody domain has been seized by someone that is not Shelvis...the posts are no longer about deep dish pizza, Howard Stern, or hot dogs...

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Venting Some Rage

I can't stand the NCAA basketball tournament...in fact, I loathe it. The only thing that gets my hackles up more than the NCAA tourney is the sight of pear shaped lime green scarf loving DOOFUSES skulking their way into Qwest Field to watch the Sounders. Eff them...but I digress. All you bracketologists (and there's a word that makes me want to ram a rusty fork into a Sounders fan's neck)can simply suck it. I'm glad we got that out of the way early...

The next 40 something ass hat that ironically asks,'What's a CD?' in the midst of a music conversation will have their kidneys turned to mulch by my fists. There really isn't anything more annoying than a wannabe hipster dipsh*t making a desperate play for attention. I'll gladly spend time with a sanctimonious baby boomer before I'll tolerate the company of a goddam hipster...at least the baby boomer will sincerely believe in whatever idiotic stance they take or statment they are making. Hipsters believe in nothing and their only pleasure in life is making others feel stupid, hence the 'what's a CD?' horseshite. They believe they gain crediblity by feigning ignorance of a bygone era...an era they lived in and embraced not that long ago. An 8 year old knows what a CD is, but not a 45 rpm single because that technology was displaced years before they were even thought about. Asking 'what's a CD' makes the hipster feel relevant in a world that is passing them by. Joan Rivers has aged more gracefully than every hipster in existence.

Hey, Gleeks...it is time to derail and decommission your 'Glee' bandwagon. It's a sh*tty show. The only reason it is popular is because they use songs that were already popular once and recycle them. It's the same formula P. Shiddy used to make millions off of dumb people that bought his albums...find a song that was a hit once before, steal or sample the hook, and record it again with some weak ass rap in place of the actual verses. Glee does the same thing - they take songs that were once hits, record them again with attractive actors, and then build a rudimentary sit-com with updated ABC after school special messaging around the music...and the music is nothing more than a rote color by numbers cover. I'd have some respect for Glee if they actually brought something to the table when they re-recorded the songs, but everything I've heard is a note for note remake and boring. Face it, Gleeks..this show exists as nothing more than a vehicle to generate iTunes downloads...and enough with Jane Lynch, she's a one trick pony that needs to be put down. Discuss.

Hmmmm, that's all the rage I could muster up for this post...I think the unisom is kicking in. I have to be downtown Bellevue tomorrow morning for some kind of social media and you seminar and how it impacts your business kind of stuff. Should be thrilling and I'm sure before we are through introductions I will be annoyed and agitated BY IT ALL. Until then, happy Thursday and I hope you enjoyed this lil' bit o' rage...

Monday, March 14, 2011

More Random Shots...

My three girls love Taylor Swift...they love her songs, videos, hair, dresses...you name it and they dig it. And I completely understand why they do. My two youngest girls like her because, as Jossy put it, she 'looks like a princess!' Madelyn will be 8 in August, so her appreciation runs deeper. She admires Taylor Swift for writing her own songs, playing the guitar, and for her sparkly dresses...and she thinks she's funny. Maddy was mesmerized by Taylor's making of documentary for the 'Love Story' video, especially all of the segments that went out their way to show Taylor Swift being normal...baking cookies, goofing off, and being afraid of spiders.

Again, I totally understand why my girls and millions of other girls love Taylor Swift. For the tweener set, her songs are Judy Blume books condensed down to three minutes and set to music. Younger girls aspire to be her. I find her music to be annoying and grating, and when she sings live she's an abomination. She's the only performer I have ever heard that could be flat, pitchy, and out of key all at once. Just watch the train wreck that was Def Leppard/Taylor Swift crossroads or her ear drum abusing duet with Stevie Nicks a couple of years ago...and if her voice on her CDs was processed any more than it already is, stores would have to offer up her music next to the Velveeta and Easy Cheese canisters...but her music is not for me, so I'm not going to worry about it....so there.

You know, it really is kind of difficult to be snarky and cynical with all that's going on in the world right now. Not so difficult I couldn't take some shots at Taylor Swift, but still...I had a great night with the girls, we played some Wii Sports, ate some popcorn, but in the back of my mind I kept thinking about Japan and the devastation there. Take some time tonight or tomorrow and send a prayer out for all of Japan...for their loss of life and for the strength and resolve it is going to take to dig out from that mess. Also pray for the engineers working around the clock trying to prevent meltdowns at their nuclear facilities. The last thing the Japanese people need right now is for Godzilla to come stomping around (yeah, I couldn't resist...sorry...but not really...someone had to make a Godzilla joke).

Back to the snark. The Better Half and I did some shopping at WinCo over the weekend. For those of you that don't know what WinCo is, think WalMart without all the made in China Rubbermade products cluttering up the aisles. What's great about WinCo is the prices...you can save some serious coin at that place on everything from produce to ice cream...and when you leave you aren't burdened with the shame you might feel if caught walking out of Grocery Outlet. The bad thing about WinCo is that every other person in the joint looks like they may have been cast as extras in 'Winter's Bone'. There aren't a lot of handsome people in the place, yours truly being a welcome exception (if grading on a curve).

WinCo also is the place to go for items you might not find anywhere else...like giant tins of 'Campfire Stew'. I have no idea what 'Campfire Stew' is, and I don't really want to find out...but it was on sale, for whatever that's worth. They also stock every imaginable flavor of Shasta soda on the planet...and they carry a ton of those crazy Mexican fruit drinks that my cousins can't get enough off. Every one should give WinCo a try, especially since you have to bag your own groceries, that makes it kind of sporty!

By the way, 'Winter's Bone' was vastly overrated...great performances, but overrated as a film...

On Demand

My very, very observant and crafty beyond her years youngest daughter was able to figure out how to call up her favorite shows On Demand. When we thought she was napping she would wake up, grab the Comcast remote, hit the red 'On Demand' button, and navigate the menus. Now, because she is 2 1/2, she can't read (at least I think she can't read), so finding the shows she wanted to watch was trial and error...mostly error. She ordered some movie called 'Black Death' twice in a three day time span. She also ordered 'Conviction' and 'Alpha and Omega' as well. I discovered her ability to manipulate the On Demand functionality when I received a ridiculous cable bill. We were charged 9.99 for each instance of 'Black Death' and 4.99 for 'Alpha and Omega' and 'Conviction'

I called Comcast when Katelyn ordered 'Black Death' for the third time and was told that we wouldn't be charged if less than 1/2 an hour of a movie was watched. I tried to explain that we never watched 'Black Death' and we most certainly did not order it two times in a three day span. Nor did we order 'Conviction' or 'Alpha and Omega', but I agreed that a charge for 'Alpha...' was warranted because the kids sat down and watched that one (I thought it was on HBO On Demand, not PPV On Demand). The customer service rep wouldn't budge, the best he could do was to tell me to set a pin number to block On Demand...which would be fine if setting a PIN was in any way useful and not a massive nuisance. When I tried to tell him that my daughter was ordering the movies and turning the TV off when she got an eyeful of 'Black Death' and not Yo Gabba Gabba, he still wouldn't budge...no empathy, no 'I'll see what I can do', just no. And I didn't feel like getting into it with him so I just hung up.

When I tried establishing a PIN to block On Demand, I discovered that Comcast has set it up where you can't disable On Demand functionality on the remote. All you can do with a PIN is block channels, titles or ratings, not PPV On Demand...and I think Comcast wants it this way. I noticed the other day that during a commercial for 'Megamind' a pop up message that read 'Do You Want To Watch Megamind? Hit 'OK' was displayed all over the screen. There was nothing that stated 'Ask Your Parents/Adult', just 'Hit OK'. Had the girls wanted to watch 'Megamind' all they would have to do is hit the easy to find 'OK' button and I would have been out another $4.99....

Comcast has found another devious way to bleed their customers of money. I try to police and limit the amount of TV my kids watch, but I'm not with them 24/7...and, shocker, sometimes I let them watch TV while I clean the kitchen or finish up some work. While part of me is kind of proud that Katelyn was clever enough to even get to the On Demand menu, I'm not so proud that I don't want my fargin' 25 bones back for PPV movies we didn't watch. Not allowing customers to block On Demand is the kind of business move that does nothing but harvest ill will. I certainly won't forget this when it comes time to shop for another cable provider. And I certainly won't forget the customer service drone that did absolutely nothing to offer assistance. Had the rep given one crap about customer service he would have taken a closer look at our account and seen that we have not ordered a PPV movie since switching over to Comcast. We have ordered some boxing and MMA events, but no movies that I can remember....but all he could do was read from his script.

If you are a Comcast customer and have kids, keep a very, very close eye on your billing statement. There is nothing preventing your kids from ringing up PPV charges on your dime...and good luck with customer service when you call up and try and explain the circumstances of the PPV transactions. Hey, just set up a PIN that does nothing to prevent this from happening again!!!!