Hazy Afterthought

So...

2012-01-29T22:04:00.000-08:00

I'm fat. But if you know me, you probably already knew that. And my dearest friends don't care. They love me no matter what I look like. And for that, I'm grateful.

But I'm tired of being fat, and I'm going to do something about it. I'm going to do something about it on my terms. For me. Not for anyone else. For me.

Don't worry, this isn't going to become one of those "join me in my journey to a healthier me" blogs. That shit requires effort.

Okay, maybe I will blog about it every now and then. But let's be honest - I haven't blogged much about anything lately. So you don't have much to worry about.

I'm going to join Weight Watchers - there's a meeting each week at my workplace - a meeting I found out is attended by several colleagues I know and trust and respect. And our health insurance will reimburse 25% of the cost provided I make it to 11 out of 12 weigh-ins over a 12 week period.

What caused me to finally do something about this? Well, I have a list of my motivations:

- Tired of having to go to fat people stores to buy my clothes. Those places are expensive, and as of late, the employees are getting to be real shitheads. They've got a corner on the market. I don't want to be a part of that market anymore. I want to shop at Old Navy again.
- I'm sick of what I see in the mirror, so I'm going to change it.
- I have so little energy for anything it's ridiculous.
- I want to have women be interested in me again. I'm sick of having women look at me and have zero interest whatsoever because of my physical appearance. I want to give them the opportunity to have no interest in me because I'm a reprehensible human being. You know - the old-fashioned way. All kidding aside, though, I do have some women who are interested in me, but they're all my size. And while they may find that attractive, I don't want someone to be attracted to a version of myself that I really don't like. At all.
- Oh yeah, that too - I don't like that about myself. I know I'm a good person and all, but I just don't like being overweight. If you've been there, you know what I'm talking about.

So yeah. It's time to do something, damn it.

I realize it's going to be really, really difficult. I'm going to screw up. That's okay. But as long as I'm making a genuine effort to change myself and my lifestyle, and I'm seeking outside help in doing it, I can at least say I'm taking action, which is better than nothing.

I did this once before - when I was about 10 years old. My parents made me go to Weight Watchers each week. I lost some weight, but I was a kid. I didn't know what was going on. And I didn't have the self-awareness to make the decision to go on my own. And let's be honest here for a minute - imagine being a 10 year old boy in a Weight Watchers meeting full of middle-aged women. How the hell did my parents think that would help me at all? Every time I shared anything at these meetings, the middle aged women got all weepy.

Oh, and I assure you that when you're 10 years old, and it gets out that you go to Weight Watchers meetings (because several of your classmates' mothers are in the meetings as well) your peers will not greet this news with respect and understanding. No, they will continue to tease you, but this time they will do so with greater frequency and enthusiasm than ever before. So yeah, clearly THAT was going to work out for me.

When I was 12 I did another program - again, the decision of my parents - at a local pediatric hospital. I wasn't really that overweight, looking back at it. There were kids in the program who weighed 300 lbs. and were the same age as me.

And I didn't really get anything out of the program - especially when my parents (who had to attend with me) would take me out to eat at Imo's on the way home.

People in this program kept telling me I needed to exercise. I needed to eat more nutritious stuff. A lot of grown ups spent a lot of time talking at me. Not many people really listened to me. And, again, I'm not sure I had the self-awareness necessary to realize that kids made fun of me because I was overweight, and that I could make that stop by losing weight, AND that I was the one who had to do something about it. That nobody else could do it for me. I mean, sure, I was told all of those things at various points in time, and I figured it out on my own later on, but for some reason it took until this weekend for me to finally decide to do something about it.

Okay, maybe this is turning into a bit of a weight loss blog already. So I'll shut up now. Thankfully I've got nearly 1,000 other posts to balance things out a bit.

The other side of "No."

2012-01-16T19:45:00.001-08:00

This was brought to my attention today.

Summary: Amelia needs a kidney. Amelia also has other medical conditions, chief among them Wolf-Hirschhorn Syndrome, a heartbreaking condition that results in mental retardation, muscle hypotonia, congenital heart defects, ongoing renal issues, and a whole host of other medical issues. A surgeon at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia says they can't put Amelia on a transplant list because of all these issues. The family says, "that's okay, we have a big family and we're all willing to donate a kidney." The doctor still says no, it's too risky. Among the reasons the doctor cites are mental retardation. Understandably, Amelia's parents flip out and believe their child is being discriminated against.

Parent writes emotional blog post. Outrage ensues.

I ask that you please take a moment to consider this situation from the physician's point of view.

When any healthcare professional decides to enter the profession, they take an oath to do what is best for their patients, and to put the patient's health above all else.

"Then why won't they do the surgery?" you ask. That's an excellent question.

When a patient is in need of a transplant, no matter where the transplanted organ is coming from, a number of factors are considered. Among those are the long-term prognosis of the patient.

After researching her condition a bit more, as well as reading up on the specifics of the case, it seems as though Amelia has multiple health issues, including some cardiac troubles in the past. This is in addition to Wolf-Hirschhorn Syndrome.

Because of her other conditions, attempting a transplant is far more likely to result in speeding up Amelia's demise than it is to be successful. No matter who donates the kidney, that's just the reality of the situation. And then, even if a transplant occurred and was successful, how long would it be before she needed another kidney? And another? And what about her heart? Is her heart even strong enough to endure such a major procedure?

These are the things doctors have to take into consideration every day when determining whether a patient - like Amelia - is a good candidate for a transplant. You don't just show up one day needing a new organ and are put on a waiting list.

The physician arrived at his original decision not because he has it in for Amelia, or he has something against the mentally disabled. No, I'd bet that he knows that the risks involved with any sort of transplant are far too great to justify moving forward.

Now because this physician clearly has no bedside manner whatsoever (as is the case with many of the best surgeons - just ask any doctor or nurse), it came across as "we're not doing the transplant because your child is retarded." Should this have been approached by someone who is better with patients? Absolutely.

The doctor made a tough decision - one that I have no doubt was difficult for him. I'm guessing he believes it would be better for the family to have time to say goodbye, rather than send this poor child into the operating room to be sedated and probably never wake up again.

It's a heartbreaking situation for all parties involved. I understand the anger, because I've been on that end of it. But I also understand the reasoning.

In closing, I'd argue that Amelia's course of treatment should be determined in conversations between her parents and the ethics committee at CHoP. And in these conversations, both parties need to share AND listen to the other side. Although there have been several online polls established asking the hospital to perform the surgery, please remember that no matter what happens, this is not a matter for the public to decide, nor should it be.

Let's all hope for the best outcome for Amelia, regardless.

Taking it to the streets

2011-11-26T14:35:00.000-08:00

As I was returning home from running some errands this afternoon, I turned onto the side street that leads to my house. I did so at a normal rate of speed.

About a third of the way up the block, an old man and two small children were walking down the middle of the street. The old man ushered the children to the side so I could drive by. He yelled something impolite at me as I drove past.

That's right. He was angry at me because I had the audacity to use, in a legal manner, a street. And even though there are two perfectly good sidewalks down either side of the street, he chose to lead two small children down the middle of that street, less than a block from a major arterial road.

What's sad is that this isn't the first time I've seen this.

On the opposite side of things, I've also seen a lot of adults - grown-ass people - riding bikes down the sidewalks.

So, St. Louis, can we all just agree that sidewalks are for feet and streets are for wheels? And can we maybe, just maybe, abide by that? And use crosswalks, too? You know, when the walk signal is lit?

I was on Grand the other day, and right near a four-way intersection, a kid - maybe 10 years old - darted out in front of me, perpendicular to traffic flow.

It's like he was asking to get hit.

When was street-crossing etiquette abandoned? Is this something people no longer teach their kids?

A Remembrance

2011-09-11T00:52:00.000-07:00

I really can't believe it's been a decade since that Tuesday morning in September when our lives changed forever.

It's been a decade and a day since the last time I didn't think about terrorism. Or the dangers of extremism. Or why we can't all just live with our differences. After all, we're all stuck on this rock together, and nobody gets out alive.

A decade ago, I began to seriously question faith and religion. I thought about how the people who so easily killed over three thousand innocent strangers did so in the name of religion. And then I thought about the numerous other terrible acts perpetrated throughout history, all in the name of some theological beliefs.

And, a few years ago, after much thought and consideration, I arrived at the conclusion that no religion comes without negative consequences.

Over the course of my life, my religious views have gone from being a devout, obedient Catholic, to being a skeptic who views all religions - from the mainstream belief systems that have existed for thousands of years, to the cults that have sprung up in the last few - as little more than organized willful ignorance.

There are those who will argue that religion is a positive force. To those individuals, I ask whether any given religion is positive for everyone, or if it is only positive for those who subscribe to it?

Why should innocent people have to die for something that is supposedly so good and pure? What use is any belief system for which lives have been ended? I'm not just talking about Islam. I'm talking about Catholicism. I'm talking about Protestantism. I'm talking about Mormonism. Or really, just about any religion. Sure, forgiveness may be preached, but is it practiced? Why do we really need religion, anyway? Isn't it far more noble to treat our fellow humans with respect for the sake of treating them with respect? Do we really need a theology telling us we need to do it? Can't we be good to one another without religion?

We can certainly be horrible to one another because of it...

I think back to the attacks on this day, ten years ago. The lives lost, the hopes and dreams shattered, the innocence taken away from us. I think about how the events of that day changed me in ways I could never have imagined.

I think about the seemingly endless footage of planes and explosions and rubble on the days following 9/11. I never saw the World Trade Center in person, but that doesn't stop my heart from sinking a little bit every time I see images of it, and I think of the awful events that occurred there, ten years ago today.

New York, you're always on my mind, and you always will be.

Hi again

2011-08-28T18:59:00.000-07:00

In two days, this blog turns eight. If this blog were a human child, it would be in second grade. Or maybe third grade, if it was a fast learner.

I've only posted two other times this year. And that is a pretty accurate summary of my life. There's not a lot going on that's worth writing about - at least not from my perspective.

I have noticed a social media usage pattern lately. Well, not lately, but I guess it's mostly just occurring to me now.

Back when I used IRC, there was a beginning, middle, and end to my usage. And with each of those stages came a corresponding number of my friends who also used it. In the beginning, there were a good number of people there, but not a ton. The middle featured a ton of people I knew, all in one place, all chatting. Eventually, though, it dwindled down to just a handful.

Then I moved to ICQ. The same thing happened - a few people, a ton of people, a handful, and then none whatsoever.

There was a brief flirtation with Yahoo Messenger due to Truman's IT policies, which prohibited ICQ due to a security issue. Same thing - a few people, a bunch of people, and then no one.

Then came AOL Instant Messenger (a.k.a., AIM) - the same thing. A few people, a metric crap load of people, and now there are none. I mean, I'm sure they're out there, but they're not people I know.

Then there was MySpace. Granted, this was a whole new animal - social networking, not just chatting. The same thing happened. My network was small, then ridiculously large (about 300 people at one point, with maybe 1/2 of them posting regularly), and then it fizzled out. Now it's a digital ghost town, inhabited only by those who can only be described as marginally civilized. You know, that junkie cousin everyone has, whose profile is filled with animated gifs of marijuana leaves and spam comments from shitty rappers. Note: if you don't have a cousin like that, look in the mirror. You ARE that cousin. Although if you've read this far, I'm going to go ahead and assume you're not that person. Myspace is not a place inhabited by those with long attention spans.

Oh, wait - I had Friendster for like a month before I got on MySpace. I totally forgot about that. Ha. Apparently it's still big in Asia? Who knows? Who cares.

Chatting didn't go away, though. Google Talk has had a much longer lifespan, I have to admit. I've been using it for a good while. Ever since it came out, honestly. Of course, this started out more slowly than other forms of communication. And it never had huge numbers, but they were solid. I'd easily have 15 people online at any given time. But then people just stopped coming online so much. Or maybe they got sick of me and went to invisible mode. Or blocked me. Right now, though, I see five people online. They're the same five people as always. I think they're probably like me - signed in through their phones. I only chat with a handful of people on there anymore.

Now Facebook is doing the same thing. I have 536 "friends" on there. I had 537 this morning. I must have pissed someone off. Or, more likely, someone purged their contacts, like I do on occasion. Or maybe they just deleted their account entirely. Whatever. Doesn't matter. The phenomenon remains intact - fewer people are updating their statuses. Granted, there are still a ton of people updating their stuff. Just not as many. I've seen more than a few "friends" say they needed a break from Facebook. Or that they were just giving it up entirely. Bully for them.

So, this whole Google+ thing - is anyone doing it? I have it. I don't really use it, though.

Of course, that's what I said when I first joined Facebook. And Myspace. And AIM. Etc.

So, our means of communicating with one another - are they only as good as their last iteration? IRC and ICQ barely evolved at all. Friendster lost ground when MySpace took what they were doing and did it better. And then Facebook totally blew MySpace out of the water. I think Facebook's dominance can be credited to the same force that made Cartman's theme park so popular in South Park - he only let a few people in. Before opening the gates to everyone, Facebook was for college kids only. And then it opened the gates a little wider for faculty and staff. That's how I got in. Then they started letting high schoolers in. And now any old carbon blob with an email address can join. Now nearly 10% of the planet is on Facebook.

So, will Google+ leave Facebook in the dust?

And what about us bloggers? Even those of us who have kept a domain for eight years and may only update a handful of times in any given 12 month span, and who probably have zero readers anyway... What about us?

I guess I'll just have to start tweeting about everything.

Did anyone actually read this far? Leave a comment if you did.

Summer Daze

2011-06-15T21:38:00.001-07:00

This time of year is always kind of strange for me.

Things at work slow down to a snail's pace. I spend a lot of time mowing lawns. I sweat a lot, due to my truck's a/c not working. And I think about my dad.

For those of you keeping score, this June 24th will mark six years since Dad died. It seems like not that long ago at all, yet when I look at how much I've changed since then, it seems like an eternity.

But really, it's just six years.

And I miss him. Of course I miss him. And while I would give anything for just another day with him, I'm thankful for the experiences I've had (some unpleasant and involuntary) that may not have happened, had he still been here.

My Uncle Bob and I (Dad's youngest brother) never would have built that pair of awesome Adirondack chairs on my patio. I probably wouldn't own a house. I most likely wouldn't have moved away from Pacific. I wouldn't have taught myself to do things like replace a light fixture or a thermostat. There's a good chance I may not have even applied for the job that eventually became the one I have today.

I definitely never would have adopted Sasha, now my mother's best friend. And I wouldn't have had two wonderful years with Doc - nor would I have shed so many tears over him when I had to put him down.

Through experiencing my father's sickness and death, I was forced to finally grow up and admit that I'm an adult now.

And I'm a better person for it.

I may have mentioned this before, but Dad wasn't an overly sentimental person. Nor did he spout off fatherly advice as a culmination to whatever problem I was having that week. That's the stuff of sitcoms. Nobody's dad does that.

Dad did once tell me something that has stuck with me, though.

During a particularly rough patch right after I graduated from college, he told me that life is a road, and there are going to be potholes in that road, but you have to just keep driving, because if you don't, you won't get anywhere.

It was a rare nugget of brilliance, shared with me over greasy burgers on a Tuesday night at Steak 'n Shake.

And he was right. Things have gotten better.

Don't get me wrong, I still have my fair share of challenges. But they're different challenges. These are challenges I wouldn't have faced had I not moved past the earlier ones. And when things seem overwhelming, I just think of what he told me, and think about how much better my life is now - struggles and all - than it was on that Tuesday night.

So, this Sunday, if your dad is still around, be sure to give him a call. You never know when the day will come when such a simple act is impossible.

A very important message from The Bob.

2011-03-30T21:26:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone. I know I haven't done a very good job of keeping this blog updated, but sometimes life just sort of gets in the way, and little things like blogging get pushed to the back burner, then pushed to a farther-back burner, and then they fall off the stove top entirely.

However, a very important issue has given me a reason to pull that hypothetical oven away from the wall and pull a greasy, dusty morsel out from its dark hiding place.

As any of you who are long-time readers will know, when I was in college, I joined a fraternity. Specifically, the Theta Rho chapter of Alpha Tau Omega at Truman State University.

After three semesters at Truman, I didn't have much of a reason to stick around. I had a few friends, but I had other friends at other schools (like Mizzou) and when I wasn't reading or writing papers for my classes, I was researching transfer requirements with a move to Columbia planned in the not-too-distant future. Truman just wasn't the place for me. I didn't fit in. I didn't have a place I could go and just be myself. Surely at a school as big as Mizzou, I could find some sort of niche - somewhere to belong.

When Andy Roberts, a Chem 100 lab partner who would eventually become my big brother, suggested I come hang out with this group of guys he was running around with, I took a chance. It remains one of the best decisions I've ever made.

Being an ATO taught me (unintentionally) about so much that wasn't covered in the classroom. ATO taught me that respect is earned, not given. It taught me the importance of being there for each other in good times and in bad. While many people may have just seen ATO as a place with weirdos who had awesome theme parties (party in the pants, anyone?), what was less obvious was that these guys were there for me, no matter what.

When I turned 21 on a Monday night in October of 2000, it was Matt Haggans who got up from a really great Monday Night Football game and bought me my first legal beer - a pint of Guinness.

Two nights after that, while I was still drunk, it was a group of ATOs who convinced me to go to an AGD date dash at the local roller rink. The AGD who was my date that evening is still my friend today, even though I hadn't the slightest idea how to skate.

When I had nothing better to do on an Easter Sunday in Kirksville, Andy Stevenson and Dan Newcomb dragged me (and a case of beer) out to Hazel Creek to go fishing.

When I needed help with trigonometry and statistics, Cameron Moore came over to help me salvage my academic career.

When I needed people to act in a short film that served as my senior thesis, Joe Moccia and John Becker had starring roles.

And when I presented that not-suitable-for-any-audience film to a panel of faculty members, even more ATOs filled the audience and cheered wildly at the appropriate times.

When I decided that I wanted to work at the campus radio station, my little brother, Zach Lechner, sat in with me during my first shift. He made sure I didn't break any FCC rules and played all the right spots at the right times.

We had a lot of great fun, but my ATO brothers were also there for me in not-so-good times.

When one of my fellow SAs went missing, my brothers were there for me. And when the worst possible outcome - suicide - became a reality, the news was broken to me by Paul Stock, who, even though there was a really great party happening at the house that night, took the time to sit with me, talk with me, and make sure I was okay.

When I was totally burned out from being an SA and had absolutely no motivation to do anything at all, I quit my job on campus and moved in with Aaron Baker, Heath Coles, John Klein, and Joe Moccia. They helped me get my life back on track by being positive influences. Cheesy as it sounds, it's totally true.

When I finally did graduate, I was part of a group I like to call the unlikely trifecta: myself, Matt Cowan, and Joe Ruth. While I can't speak for Matt, I know Joe and I definitely struggled to graduate. And we did it - together.

After graduation, when my dad's health was in decline, it was Jay Peterson who kept me company on the phone during my long drives to and from the hospital. When my dad died, one of the lowest points of my life, Harry Harris and Phil Spear were there for me at the visitation and funeral. And within a few days, a card arrived - signed by everyone who was working at the house one weekend. They had taken the time to organize their efforts and purchase, sign, and mail me a sympathy card. Anyone who knows my brothers knows what a huge achievement this is.

And a few months later, Brian Dale and Harry Harris helped me acquire my current job.

These are just a few examples of what ATO has meant to me, and what it continues to mean to me. And I know that many of you who read this blog also have fond memories of that house on Mulanix Street, and the nutjobs who lived there.

That's why I'm writing this - the house needs a sprinkler system. And because we're a relatively young chapter (only 32 years old), we don't have a ton of money sitting around. So we're asking you to consider donating to our cause.

It doesn't have to be much. Every little bit helps.

If you've ever dated an ATO, loved an ATO, or had a good time at an ATO party, please consider helping us.

What happens if we can't raise the money? Well, there's a very real chance the chapter could cease to exist, as the requirement for a sprinkler system is one that has been imposed on us by the national organization, and failure to comply could result in the revocation of our charter.

So please, give us a few bucks so future generations of Truman students can have their own ATO memories.

Thanks.

My Christmas Letter

2010-12-20T19:06:00.000-08:00

I'm not what you'd call a Christmas letter kind of guy. I tried it once. It was an astonishing failure. Or not. I can't really remember. All I recall is that after all the letters were printed, I still had far more snowflake-bordered stationery left over than any straight man should.

So here's my holiday blog entry.

2010!

It was quite a year. In January, I did some stuff. I really can't remember what. Seriously. I have no freaking clue. I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast, let alone what I was doing eleven months ago. Gimme a break here! I probably bitched and moaned about snow and cold and windows that leaked all the time. Yeah. That's most likely what my January involved. Oh, and on MLK Day I continued my tradition of not participating in the annual day of service. I realize that I'm kind of a shit bag.

February was about the same as January. Mostly a cold blur. I probably did my taxes and got a fatty-fat refund check. I was single on Valentine's Day yet again. Actually, I've never not been single on Valentine's Day, so pretty much everything was normal. Also, I probably bitched and moaned about snow and cold and windows that leaked all the time.

Oh -- I do remember this part -- starting March 1st, I decided to stop eating fast food. My landscaping work also picked up again. Lots of mulching and stuff occurred during March.

The self-imposed fast-food fast lasted until April 20-something-or-other, when I had a root canal, and needed to eat something with the pain killers so I didn't pass out during the 10 minute drive home. The root canal also put me in contact with a great new dentist who I really like a lot. Why? Because even without having seen me on a regular basis, he provided me a referral to have a root canal done at the endodontic clinic at SLU.

April also provided me with my favorite interaction with my boss (Joel) so far this year:

Joel: I hear you had a root canal!
Bob: Yeah, sure did.
Joel: Where did you have it done?
Bob: At SLU.
Joel: I didn't know they had a dental program there.
Bob: They don't.
Joel: (Silence, accompanied by a horrified look on his face.)

I should explain that they do have a school for advanced dental education at SLU, but not a traditional dental school. This is where dentists go to become specialists, such as endodontists, orthodontists, periodontists, etc. It's an awesome place, the care is excellent and affordable, and the staff is very friendly.

April also brought my friend Liz into town. She stayed for a couple of days. It's always good to see Liz. Too bad she lives far, far away.

May brought more lawns, which was good, as I now had a root canal and crown to pay off. Yes, I have dental coverage. It just sucks.

June, July, and August were pretty much uniform -- I sat behind a desk from 8 to 5 and walked behind a mower from about 5:30 to 9. Oh, I also had to have some more dental work done -- several new fillings and others that needed to be replaced.

By September, my dental coverage was maxed out.

In October I turned 31. Huzzah. I also Halloweened it up. That was fun. I like Halloween. A lot. I was a jellyfish. Doc was a shark.

Speaking of Doc, I had to have him put down in November. He was very old and very sick. I spent the first few days after putting him down crying almost constantly whenever I was at home, alone. I still miss him terribly, as he was my best friend. However, as time passes, I'm realizing that I absolutely did the right thing. The right thing isn't always the easiest.

December has been full of lights and tinsel and other holiday shit, all of it belonging to other people. I don't decorate. Who do I have to decorate for? Seriously. December has also had a lot of awkward conversations when someone will ask me how Doc is doing. I am viewing this as an opportunity to become a gracious individual, and not as an opportunity to flip out on someone because how could you not freaking know that I had my dog put to sleep and it was the hardest thing I've ever done you insensitive prick?!?!

Ahem. Pardon me. I should point out that it's a work in progress.

I also bought new windows this year. It's much quieter in my my house now. And not at all drafty, so that's cool.

My family has been up to some stuff. My mom had some sort of surgery on her eyes, I think. She doesn't wear her glasses anymore, so maybe it was a lasik surgery? I don't know. Maybe she just lost her glasses. Who knows? My brother lives with her, which is good. My sisters also still exist. My niece turned 16 and was given a brand new car for her birthday, which I'm pretty sure she thinks is perfectly normal. Also, the gift has set an expensive precedent for the person who bought the vehicle, since I also have two nephews who will be turning 16 in the next few years.

Let's see... Did I forget anyone?

No. No I did not.

Merry whatever.

Doc

2010-11-20T09:52:00.000-08:00

Today I did the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. I had Doc put down.

Jill went with me. She offered to go with me. I didn't have to ask, which was awesome, because that's a rather strange favor to ask of someone.

I did okay at the vet's office. Yeah, I cried. How could I not? Doc was my constant companion. The furry friend who, until recently, greeted me with a wagging tail when I came home from work. He was also my bodyguard -- always putting himself between me and anyone else. Above all else, he was my friend. We loved each other very much.

I adopted Doc almost exactly two years ago. He was old. The rescue group from which I adopted him said he was between 10 and 12. The first vet I visited said he was probably about 14 or 15. The second vet I took him to said he was definitely at least 16. However old he was, his previous owners lost their home and could no longer care for him. He ended up in the Jefferson County animal shelter, and when they couldn't find a home for him, they called the St. Louis Senior Dog Project, who took him in, for better or for worse.

They set his adoption fee at $50 because of his age. And his cataracts. And his "selective hearing." And his arthritis. And his senility.

After our vet visit today, Jill and I stopped to get something to eat. We figured he had at least six chronic conditions -- diagnosed or otherwise -- based on his behavior. Over the last month or so, he spent most of his time sleeping. It took him two or three days to eat what he would have normally consumed in a day. He would scratch at the door at 3 AM until I got up and let him outside, at which point, he would just stand there, seeming to forget why he wanted out so badly in the first place. He sometimes barked and growled at me like I was a stranger. The daily greetings at the door were all but gone.

Except for the last few days. After weeks of agonizing over this decision, I called the vet and made an appointment to have him put down. Every day since making the appointment, he would be waiting for me at the door, tail wagging. I'm not going to read into this at all. I'm just stating that after I made the appointment, he met me at the door every day when I came home from work.

I was hoping he'd just die quietly in his sleep. I was hoping we'd be able to avoid that one last car ride. But that wasn't in the cards.

I could have very easily let him keep on living for however long he had left, but he was in pain. I had to wake him up every morning and pick him up to carry him outside. I would have kept doing it, too, if I knew he wasn't in any pain. But he was in pain.

He was constantly rubbing his eyes, which had a constant stream of what I can only describe as snot seeping out of the corners. The vet had given me medicine for that a while back. I gave it to him weekly. It would clear things up for a day or two, but it would just get worse again. He took thyroid pills every day to give him the energy to get up, walk around, and eat. I went for about a week once without giving him any pills -- I needed to get more from the vet -- and most of that time, he just slept.

As Jill drove off, I walked in my house, Doc's empty collar and leash in my hand. I saw his food and water bowls, his blankets, bits of his fur that were constantly falling out. I broke down and cried.

Even though I know in my heart that I did the right thing, the responsible thing, it's still the hardest thing I've ever done.

Violence... With a side of fries

2010-11-17T10:24:00.001-08:00

My friend Mike pointed something out to me today. There are a lot of videos on Youtube of groups of people fighting at chain restaurants in the San Francisco Bay Area.

First example: two women in line at McDonald's start a cat fight that turns into a brawl. The logic behind it: one woman was offended because the other was using foul language near her daughter.

Apparently only words can be a bad influence. Not actions.

Second example: the setting is Denny's. This time there are two groups, throwing things at each other. I'm not quite sure how this one got started, but does it really matter? I can guarantee you it was something stupid.

Oh, also, it was Halloween. You may have figured that out, though.

Third example: Burger King parking lot in Oakland. I'm not really sure who started what in this situation.

Seriously, what kind of trashy individual gets into a brawl at a chain restaurant? And why does it take the cops so long to show up at each one of these? Crazy.

If you do decide to take the risk of going to a chain restaurant in the Bay Area, don't take the bus.

Election 2010

2010-11-01T18:31:00.000-07:00

Here's how I'll be voting tomorrow:

U.S. Senator:

Robin Carnahan - she is a far better choice than Roy Blunt, a.k.a., Tom DeLay's butt boy, and father of former Missouri Governor Matt Blunt, the Boy Blunder. It's too bad Robin probably won't win, though.

Also, a note to the person who told me "I'm never voting for a Carnahan, not after Missouri elected Mel even though he was dead." -- that's a completely ridiculous argument and you know it. That was ten years ago. Get over it already. There are plenty of legitimate reasons to vote for a certain candidate, but that's not one of them.

State Auditor:

Susan Montee - Montee has done an excellent job as auditor so far. There's no reason not to keep her in office.

U.S. Representative, District 3:

Russ Carnahan - Sure, Russ is about as charismatic and charming as a dead fish, but his views are in line with my own, his office is responsive to my inquiries, and he's a much better choice than Ed Martin, who as the Boy Blunder's chief of staff, cost Missouri taxpayers quite a bit of money through e-mailgate.

State Representative, District 108:

Jacob W. Hummel - Jake is a friendly guy, and his campaign materials didn't have any misspellings, like his token Republican opponent's did.

Constitutional Amendment 1 - re: requiring the office of county assessor to be an elected position:

YES - I'll be honest, this amendment only affects a small number of counties, and as such, should not be a statewide issue, however, I'm in favor of making public servants more accountable to the public, and this achieves that.

Constitutional Amendment 2 - re: property tax exemptions for former prisoners of war:

NO - don't get me wrong, I appreciate everything our troops have done for us, especially those who were captured and held by the enemy. However, our state is in a bit of a budget crunch, and now is not the time to start granting tax exemptions to specific groups. First it's the disabled former POWs, next it's all veterans, then soon it's everyone over the age of 50. I see this as a slippery slope issue.

Constitutional Amendment 3 - re: real estate transfer taxes:

YES - first of all, let me acknowledge that this is a solution without a problem, as no politicians are even thinking about imposing a real estate transfer tax right now. However, I'd like to sell my home someday, and when I do, I don't want to pay a transfer tax on that sale. Nor do I want to pay another one when I buy a new house.

Proposition A - re: municipal earnings taxes

NO, NO, A MILLION TIMES NO! - billionaire Rex Sinquefield has spent millions of dollars of his own money to put this issue before voters tomorrow, and to sell his libertarian ideology, the groups he's funding are saying that passing this proposition will "let voters decide" on taxes. This is a lie. Voters already decide. It's called the Hancock Amendment. This would actually take away the ability of voters to choose an earnings tax -- one of the most equitable forms of taxation -- by outlawing it for every municipality in Missouri except St. Louis, Kansas City, and St. Joseph. And for those cities, a vote would have to be held every five years to decide to keep the earnings tax. And once it's gone, it's gone forever.

If this passes, St. Louis' bond rating will almost certainly plummet, because 1/3 of its revenue will no longer be guaranteed.

Proposition A is awful. Simply awful.

Proposition B - the "puppy mill bill."

I've heard lots of arguments for and against this measure. All of the arguments for it are very well-founded. Only one argument against it is, though, and that's the one about enforcement. There are laws on the books right now regulating the conditions in which breeders can keep dogs, but because the Missouri Department of Agriculture is responsible for the enforcement (and because of a lack of funding for enforcement), puppy mills still exist. There simply aren't enough people to enforce the existing laws, and Proposition B makes, at best, a minimal effort to address this, by enabling local law enforcement agencies to enforce it as well. Either way, the state will not be spending more money on the MDA's efforts to enforce whatever dog breeding laws we'll have after the election.

Some opponents complain about the 50 dog limit. Others say this is a deceptive effort by PETA to try to get us to stop eating meat. Others simply say it's a lie without elaborating further.

I've played the part of devil's advocate on this one quite a bit over the last couple of months, and as I said, I have only heard one legitimate concern about this bill, and that's with enforcement. However, because (as I understand it) it will enable other law enforcement agencies to enforce the law -- as opposed to MDA agents only -- I will most likely be voting for it. If you are a responsible breeder who keeps your animals in clean conditions and makes sure they see a vet when necessary, you should have absolutely nothing to worry about. If you are running a puppy mill out in the woods somewhere in rural Missouri, you're probably going to keep doing that anyway -- at least until you get caught. And hopefully that will be sooner rather than later since the MDA agents won't be the only people looking for you now. It's not a perfect solution, but it is a step in the right direction, and maybe, just maybe, the knuckleheads in Jefferson City will finally acknowledge the puppy mill problem and increase the MDA's funding accordingly.

Park51

2010-08-19T09:20:00.000-07:00

Park51 (also known as the "Ground Zero Mosque" even though it's not at Ground Zero and is more of a YMCA than a mosque) has been stirring up some controversy lately.

So, naturally, here's my opinion:

It's a municipal zoning issue. That's all it is. Seriously. It's not an attack on America. It's not an affront to the victims of 9/11. It's not a training ground for terrorists. It's a municipal zoning issue.

Does the developer have a right to put it there? Absolutely. Should the developer put it there? At first, I was with a lot of people and said, "maybe it's not wise," but after seeing the other establishments that exist a similar distance from the WTC site and learning that there is a mosque nearby that predates the WTC, I say go for it.

The September 11th terrorist attacks were tragic and cowardly event carried out by extremists -- extremists whose actions were condemned by the vast majority of Muslims around the world. If we are going to judge entire religions by the worst offenses committed by its most extreme sects, then by that logic, no churches, synagogues, mosques, or temples should ever be built, anywhere. No religion has perfectly clean hands, as countless atrocities have been committed in the name of religion over the course of history. The Romans fed Christians to hungry lions as part of a public spectacle. The Christians embarked on the Crusades. The Catholic Church, specifically, had a little thing called the Inquisition. Then there was the Cave of the Patriarchs Massacre where a Jewish gunman opened fire on unarmed Muslims who were praying, resulting in 29 deaths and over 150 injuries. Even the Mormons got involved with the Mountain Meadow Massacre.

Some of these atrocities are worse than others, but my point is that a lot of bad shit has happened in the name of God/Yahweh/Allah/whatever.

By the way, Muslims died in the 9/11 attacks. And I'm not talking about the hijackers. I'm talking about regular people, like you and me, including a police cadet and EMT whose body was found, with his EMT bag -- he was trying to do what he could to save others.

A lot of talking heads -- particularly of the right-wing variety -- have worked tirelessly to unfairly lump the extremist cowards who were behind 9/11 into the same category as the rest of Islam. They make it seem like Osama bin Laden is a spokesperson for the entire Muslim people.

I have a handful of Muslim friends. They are American citizens. They are honest, decent, hard-working people who love America. They're not all that different from you and me. They, much like the people who want to open Park51, are representative of Islam in America. Not every Muslim is an extremist. In fact, very, very few are, and most of those are in the Middle East.

When the Pilgrims landed on our shores in 1621, they were here to escape religious persecution, and as a result, we now live in a country where the freedom to worship however you see fit -- or not worship at all -- is a fundamental right.

And if the opponents of the Park51 project get their way, and the community center (which happens to include space for prayer, but no minarets or anything like that) has to go elsewhere, who is really the winner in that situation?

After all, the people who attacked us on 9/11 were against religious freedom. So what does that say about the desire of so many Americans to deny Muslims the right to gather and worship where they wish in this country?

I'd say that makes us just as bad as the terrorists.

The penguins in my head

2010-08-17T12:44:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up feeling not so great. See, I had gone out to dinner on Sunday and ordered a salad, because this restaurant's house dressing was supposed to be phenomenal.

And it was. The salad was great. And by great, I mean both delicious and huge. I took half of it home with me.

Unfortunately, I let it sit in my truck -- creamy house dressing and all -- for nearly three hours before bringing it inside. That was not a mistake. The mistake was putting it in my refrigerator instead of the trash can.

Last night, without giving much thought to the potential blowback, I ate the rest of that salad, heated-and-then-cooled house dressing and all.

When I woke up, my stomach was quite angry. I'll spare you the details, but what eventually occurred was me sending an e-mail to my co-workers saying I'd be staying home this morning and going back to bed after taking some pepto.

After drifting off to sleep, I began dreaming of a trip to the zoo. But this was no ordinary trip to the zoo. This one ended with a pregnant penguin stowing away in my truck to come live with me.

Now, I realize that in real-life, penguins lay eggs. However, this is my dream, and in my dream, penguins reproduce very quickly and without any sort of birthing or hatching process whatsoever. They were doubling in numbers, over and over, until my house was filled with penguins.

They were everywhere, gentle readers. Everywhere.

I'd open my sock drawer. Penguins. Look in the microwave. Penguins. Under the sink. Penguins. In the dryer. Penguins. In the fridge. Of course there are penguins there. They love the cold. My air conditioner was running at full capacity. The water bill was sky high. I couldn't sit on the couch anymore. There were too many penguins on it. At one point, I tried putting them all in the basement, but they just crawled up through the ducts.

And they'd peck at me with their sharp little beaks because I was in their way, ignorant of the fact that this was MY house. Not theirs. You can't reason with a penguin.

I tried calling every zoo in the country -- nobody wanted the penguins. They had plenty already. Sea World didn't want them either. I thought about shipping them to Antarctica...

And then I woke up.

The moral of the story: never welcome a penguin into your home. They are nothing but trouble.

An Occasion.

2010-07-30T08:12:00.001-07:00

This blog turns seven next month.

And, let's face it, out of those seven years, there have really only been about two worth reading.

I think this calls for cake.

Wow...

2010-06-23T22:21:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's been five years. Time sure does slip away, doesn't it?

The sadness is long gone. The tears have dried up. Grass has grown over dad's grave. Time kept on progressing without him, just as it will after each of us is gone. I still think about him, though. Every day. I guess that's to be expected.

In the last five years, I've come to realize how fortunate I was to know that dad's time with us was very short. I was able to make the most of it. I was lucky, unlike many people I know who have lost loved ones since that hot Friday in June of 2005.

I've grown so much in so many ways since dad died. A lot in my life has changed -- my job, where I live, my general outlook on life -- but I'm also thankful for the things that have remained the same. In particular, I recognize that I'm at a time in my life where friendships tend to fade away. I've definitely lost touch with a lot of people, but I'm really thankful for those people who helped me through that tough time who are still in my life today. You know who you are. And most of you don't even know this blog exists, honestly.

Still, though -- thanks.

A couple of things...

2010-06-14T08:20:00.000-07:00

1. I stopped at the grocery store on my way to work today. I do this about once a week, to buy stuff to make for lunch. I have a fridge in my office, and it saves me money and time.

Anyway, it was before 8 AM, so there was only one register open. The lady in front of me was shopping, baby in tow, and one of her purchases was a loaf of bread that proclaimed "NO HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP!" on the package. She then proceeded to tell the cashier about how terrible high fructose corn syrup is for you, and how it will kill you, and how she never buys anything containing it.

Also in this lady's purchase were two boxes of Lance brand cracker packs (one cheddar cheese and peanut butter, the other peanut butter and jelly), a dozen donuts from the bakery (most of them topped with icing and M&Ms), two gallons of Hawaiian Punch, and nine -- yes, nine -- Moon Pies.

The only marginally healthy thing in her cart was a bunch of five or six bananas. I guess those bananas canceled out all the HFCS in her other purchases.

2. Many NFL players are total morons, but Vince Young takes the cake.

I have a general theory about why NFL players are so stupid. For starters, it doesn't take a lot of intellect to play football. You basically just run whatever play the coach tells you to run. Secondly, most of the NFL players who went to college were able to coast through -- especially if they attended a Division I school. Third is the schedule. NFL players work for like six or seven months, tops. I mean, sure, they need to keep in shape, but that's an awful lot of free time. You don't hear about professional baseball players getting into trouble nearly as much as NFL players. Why? Because professional baseball players are playing for eight or nine months, and during those eight or nine months, their longest period of time off is four days during the break around the All-Star Game.

And then there's the money. NFL players find themselves in a position where they have more money than they ever fathomed. That much money, combined with that much free time, is an excellent facilitator of bad decisions.

What's really sad is that the average NFL career lasts three and a half seasons. It's no wonder there are so many destitute retired football players out there. I'm no financial planner, but jeez, even I would make some sort of long-range plan.

Why you shouldn't boycott BP stations

2010-06-09T09:18:00.000-07:00

You're driving down the road and are about to run out of gas. You have to fill the tank, and quick. You find two stations, right across the street from each other. One has a BP sign, the other is a Motomart, Quiktrip, or some other big regional chain.

The BP sign brings to mind oil-soaked pelicans, mucky beaches littered with tar balls, and the image of oil gushing from the floor of the Gulf of Mexico. As an act of protest, you choose to patronize the non-BP station.

Where do you think that gas you just bought at the non-BP station came from? Quiktrip and Motomart don't explore for oil and refine their own gasoline. They buy it on the wholesale market from whoever has the lowest price.

They call this "unbranded gasoline." You'll notice that QT and Motomart don't have any particular oil company's logos displayed at any of their stores. That's what makes them unbranded -- the fact that they don't sell just one brand of gasoline.

Of course, because of shared pipelines, that gasoline you're buying from the Shell station may not necessarily have been produced by Shell. And the BP station may not be selling BP gas, either. It's really hard to tell what you're actually getting, as all gas is pretty much the same (before additives, anyway.)

So if you're interested in boycotting BP, you should just boycott all gas stations, period, since you can't be entirely certain that what you're buying at QT and Motomart isn't BP gas. Heck, you might even have a better shot at getting non-BP gas at a BP station.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm no fan of oil companies whatsoever, but I do recognize that, at present, oil is a necessary evil. I'd boycott all gas stations if I could, but my life runs on 87 octane gasoline, and yours probably does, too.

There's another reason why you shouldn't boycott BP stations: they are independently owned. It's very likely that they are owned by people in your community. They have nothing to do with BP, the company. They were just unfortunate enough to sign a branding agreement that involves the use of BP logos. As I said earlier, they may not even be selling BP gasoline. But the big chains almost certainly are. They just don't have to tell you where it came from. That's because they probably don't even know where it came from.

Quiktrip, Motomart, and the other big chains are just that -- big chains. They're not franchises. They're all company-owned and managed, unlike the mom and pop BP station across the street.

So, if you still insist on boycotting BP stations, just know that by doing so, you won't be hurting the guys who ruined the Gulf of Mexico nearly as much as you might be hurting your own neighbors.

Just to put this out there...

2010-05-28T12:41:00.000-07:00

Gary Coleman died today.

Gary, you died of an intercranial hemorrhage -- a type of cerebrovascular accident or CVA. Most of these (about 80-90% according to a friend of mine who works with CVA patients) are ischemic in nature. In other words, most of the time, the blood supply to the brain is cut off. But Gary, you chose the path less traveled. Your blood wouldn't clot.

You truly died of a diff'rent stroke.

Rest in peace, Gary. You had a hard life. At the very least, I hope you appreciate the irony of your demise.

Dad's mail...

2010-04-11T22:19:00.000-07:00

For years now, I've received junk mail with my dad's name on it. As you probably know, we had the same first and last name, and lived at the same address when he died. I finally got around to writing this letter to the company that sends out a Knights of Columbus merchandise catalog. Something I am very much not interested in:

April 12, 2010

To the fine people at The English Company, Inc.,

My father – whose name was the same as mine – is the intended recipient of your catalog. He was a Fourth Degree member of the Knights of Columbus, a former Grand Knight, Faithful Navigator, District Deputy, and Missouri state council officer. He definitely enjoyed your catalog, and probably made many purchases over the last few decades. Unfortunately, he passed away in 2005. While this was indeed a sad occasion, it did give us an opportunity to see many of the products featured in your catalog, as there were nearly 60 Fourth Degree Knights participating in the honor guard at his visitation and funeral. It was quite the to-do. Apparently he was a popular guy. Who knew?

With that many honor guard members in one place, there were feathers everywhere. That’s another thing – your chapeau plumes tend to shed. Just a heads-up. I suppose that’s why you sell replacement plumes, though, so maybe it’s a moot point... Also, you may want to make the tips of the honor guard swords a bit less sharp, as the average Fourth Degree honor guard member is approximately 78 years old, tends to hold the sword with the points near eye-level, and not very sure-footed. There were several close calls.

Regardless, while your catalog does provide regular reminders of my father’s love of the Knights of Columbus, I somehow came into possession of his cape, chapeau, sword, medals, and other miscellaneous regalia, all of which will undoubtedly make a wonderful Halloween costume someday. Because I share the same name as my deceased father, and because we were living at the same address when he passed away, when I did move out less than a year later, a lot of his catalogs and other pre-sorted mail followed me to my apartment, and then to the house I purchased a year and a half ago.

Money is tight for everyone right now, and I would like to help you save some money on postage and printing by requesting that my father’s name (and my address) be removed from your mailing list. I manage a large mailing list at my job, and I understand that the majority of the time, you do not receive notification when someone on that list passes away – unless, of course, someone writes to tell you. And it has been my experience that those letters are often less-than-friendly. I understand why I’m on your list, but I also want to play a part in increasing the efficiency and effectiveness of your company by opting out of it. At your convenience, please remove my address from your mailing list. I have enclosed the address from the most recent catalog I received, as this may be of some assistance to you.

Also, I’m not even a member of the Knights of Columbus. I think the guys in New Haven might get a bit nervous if I started ordering service award plaques and travel mass kits for myself.

Thank you for your cooperation, and I wish you all the best!

I figure this will be more memorable (and therefore, more effective) than a standard angry removal request.

Easter, Schmeaster.

2010-04-04T07:39:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty much non-religious, so Easter doesn't mean a whole lot to me. I mean, sure, I'm always interested in whether or not he sees his shadow when he comes out of the tomb. That means six more weeks of guilt and fish sticks, right?

I think that's how it goes.

Anyway, given the large number of Christians in this country, I understand why most businesses shut down for the day. Most businesses, that is, except for the largest, most soulless one out there -- Wal-Mart.

Because I was lazy yesterday, I needed to go get groceries today. And, of course, the only place open was Wal-Mart. I got the things I needed and found an open register. The cashier was a woman, probably in her 70s, who was telling every single customer how horrible it was that she had to work on Easter. The lady was almost in tears. Even though I'm not religious, I empathized with this woman.

"I didn't even get to go to church!" she wailed to the mother and three kids who were ahead of me in line.

At that point, Wal-Mart had won my not-so-coveted Jerk of the Day award. But then the mother in front of me came in for the upset.

"Well," she said to the cashier, "at least you have a job. Lots of people don't, you know."

Wow. That's pretty low, even by my standards. I say some pretty dumb things, but even I wouldn't have said that. I mean, let's stop and think about this for a minute. Wal-Mart is a business. A huge business. Wal-Mart has stayed open on holidays like Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas for the last several years. That being said, it should have been no surprise to the cashier that she may have to work on Easter Sunday. I imagine if she hadn't shown up for work that day, she would have probably lost her job. After all, as the mother in front of me pointed out, lots of people are out of work. It sucks for the cashier, but she knew this was a possibility. She was probably unable to find someone to take her shift for the day. I've worked at Wal-Mart. That's how things go, sometimes. I do know, however, from my time at Wal-Mart that working on a Sunday or a holiday means extra pay. Sure, it may only be an extra $8, but it's something.

The mother in front of me, though, was out of line. As anyone who has had a shitty job will tell you (myself included), being reminded that lots of other people could be doing your shitty job and you could be unemployed is never comforting. It actually makes you feel worse.

So if you're out doing stuff today, and you come across a cashier who is upset about having to work on a religious holiday, don't be a dick and tell them they're lucky to have any job at all. Just shut the fuck up, say thank you, and be on your way. They don't need you to put things in perspective, because I guarantee your perspective is not the same as theirs.

Easter, Schmeaster.

An Open Letter...

2010-03-09T07:09:00.000-08:00

Dear fellow St. Louisans (and other people who aren't St. Louisans but live in the metro area so they say they are, because apparently proximity counts for such things),

It rained last night. That's cool. I don't mind. It's part of nature's process. We need rain. Rain has been occurring since before humans evolved into the fleshy bipeds we are today.

Over a century ago, some of our fellow fleshy bipeds invented such great things as automobiles and paved roads.

Given that cars and roads and rain have coexisted for so long, why the fuck don't you know how to operate motor vehicles on wet roads?

Seriously people. If there's one thing I've learned from living on the south side and working on the north side, it's that if any form of precipitation whatsoever falls from the sky within 12 hours of rush hour, you are instantly rendered totally incapable of operating a car without hitting someone else, flipping it over, or running off the road.

While I've grown accustomed to your collective incompetence, and have begun scheduling my commute to avoid being on the roads at the same time as most of you, today really took the cake. It wasn't raining. It wasn't snowing. It wasn't even cold enough for frost to form on my windshield. It wasn't sunny, either, so you can't blame the sun for being in your eyes. The road wasn't even really all that wet. It was moist. Not wet. Moist.

I left my house at 7:30 -- about ten minutes later than usual, but I've got a busy day at work, so I wanted to make sure Doc had all the time he needed outside. And then I got on the highway and proceeded to go four miles in 45 minutes. There are plenty of people who can run faster than that. I'm not saying I'm one of them, but I am saying that those people exist.

I turned on the radio to hear that one jackass wrecked in the depressed section, blocking all but the right-hand shoulder in the process. And if that wasn't enough, two more jackasses had also wrecked, one at Madison and another at West Florissant -- both of which are on my route, mind you.

So really people, what the hell is wrong with you? You act like you've never seen rain before. There are some places in the world that receive so little rainfall that when the rain finally does come, it shuts down the entire town, because people don't know how to get around in the mud.

I think those folks are on to something: if you can't handle the rain, or if you can't evolve to deal with an inevitable natural phenomenon, just stay the fuck home.

Sincerely,

Me

The Oscars

2010-03-07T21:19:00.000-08:00

My thoughts on the Oscars:

Thanks to the Academy for giving Avatar exactly what it deserved: some technical and artistic awards and that's all. As my friend Tara said, "I liked Avatar a lot better the first time I saw it, when it was called Dances With Wolves." She's not alone in that opinion, either. Also, my faith in the Academy was restored by the simple fact that they didn't give the top honors to James Cameron just because he broke every single box office record. To do so would be demeaning to the art and science that is cinema.

I was disappointed to see Up In The Air get completely shut out. Sure, some of that is because most of it was filmed right here in St. Louis, but also, I think if we were to pick one movie to sum up our society in 2009, Up In The Air would be it.

The Hurt Locker was clearly the year's biggest winner. While I have not seen it (yet) all reports are that it is an incredible movie, and given the subject matter, notably non-political. It must be good, since it received a Tomatometer rating of 97%.

Things I liked about the show: not much, really. Although the tribute to John Hughes was kind of touching. Oh, and Neil Patrick Harris. He should open every awards show.

Things I didn't like: where to begin? I guess I'll start with the Best Actor/Actress introductions. I don't care about what great people these performers are. They're being honored for pretending to be others. Just read their names, show some clips, and be done with it. Or do it the same way as the Best Picture, with each nominee getting his or her own short highlight reel throughout the show. Also, what was up with that stupid dance number during the Best Score category? Lame. That whole category should get, at most, two minutes. We don't need a whole freaking dance troupe performing their interpretation of the scores. Oh, and the In Memoriam segment was botched yet again. Every year they screw this up. They cut off the first couple of people by showing the musician or the audience or whatever, and the only people who end up getting to see every single person in that slideshow are the people right there in the theater. So yeah, Academy, stop it.

I guess that's all I have to say.

Oh, and The Dude abides.

I've got a secret...

2010-02-21T21:05:00.001-08:00

I actually like the Winter Olympics.

Like, a lot.

I don't like any one particular sport. I think what I really like about the winter games has a lot to do with the first ones I remember - the 1988 games in Calgary.

I think we had a very, very snowy winter that year, and as a result, I had lots of snow days. I remember it being the only thing on TV, and sitting in the family room, falling asleep to the sounds of the games while my mom watched.

Ever since then, I have always watched the winter games -- and ended up falling asleep during the late night broadcasts, feeling cozy, warm, and safe.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go drift off to the dulcet tones of Bob Costas.

Desiccant...

2010-02-06T15:39:00.001-08:00

Remember how I needed desiccant a couple years ago?

I ended up buying a dehumidifier. And then, just a little while ago, my friend Carrie (a regular reader of the Craigslist missed connections page) saw this and immediately sent me the link:

You had a very humid office... - w4m
Date: 2010-02-01, 11:42PM CST

You posted in here quite some time ago about your humid office and your hope that silica gel packets could remedy the situation.

I must say, I was quite impressed by your wit and, well, the fact you came up with a mathematical formula for the problem.

So, I was wondering if you got the problem taken care of? I'm sure you have, it's just that I really have nothing else to say. It's rather difficult to generate a conversation out of thin air, ya know?

Anyhow, just wanted to say I was intrigued by you. And if you should see this, feel free to respond and maybe we can get together for an evening of robbing shoe boxes.

What will come of this? I'll keep you posted.

A solution...

2010-01-08T22:25:00.000-08:00

I was pissed off when I heard yesterday that NBC was going to move Leno back to his original time slot. What a load of crap.

They were wrong to keep him in the first place. And it is clear that NBC has pushed Conan to make his show more marketable to Leno followers, leaving those of us who love Conan for Conan a bit disappointed.

So here's my solution: leave Conan where he is and bump Leno up to the 8 PM (7 Central) time slot, when most of the old fogeys who like Leno's crap will be happy to watch while doing their nightly dialysis, and just before bedtime at 9:15.

I don't think it's fair to Conan (or really to Leno, for that matter) to expect them to come into their brand new time slots with huge ratings. They need time to build momentum. If NBC wants to drop one of the shows, get rid of Leno and take a chance on Conan.

Trust me on this one, people. Trust me.

Holiday Giving

2009-12-26T12:25:00.000-08:00

I must admit, I'm a bit of a scrooge. I only keep my Christmas decorations up for a couple of weeks, and it was back in storage the first thing this morning. Because I live by myself, I don't really have much of a reason to keep the decorations out past Christmas. And the decorations aren't that extravagant, either. I don't decorate the outside of my house, and my tree is a three foot tall pre-lit plastic tree that cost $15 at Target. I don't even put ornaments on it. I just carry it up from the basement, try to shake the spiders out, place it on a table, and plug it in. Instant Christmas.

The gifts I gave this year were primarily homemade. I spent several days baking banana chocolate chip bread, beer bread (made with Schlafly 15), cookies, and brownies. I think they were all well-received. At least I hope they were. I didn't hear any complaints. I gave a few people gift certificates. I also chipped in on a fancy cookie jar for my mom. She loves cookie jars, especially this one -- it is Santa Claus riding a Harley with a sidecar. And, of course, the sidecar contains a reindeer.

I received some stuff, too. Lots of edible things, which are always welcome. I also received a gift card and some cash.

My mom always throws in a couple of little things that are just sort of random. This year, it was this book about coping with the death of a pet (my dog is really old, but he's not dead yet, thank you very much) and some strange book about the year I was born. I haven't opened it yet, but based on past experiences with the "thoughtful" gifts my mom gives, I'm going to guess that it's about 40 pages of pop culture footnotes from that year.

She means well. She just can't see things from my perspective, because our views on what constitutes a good gift are diametrically opposed.

Mom likes her gifts to be seasonal, impractical, and cute. If it makes her go "awww" it's a good gift. Example: last year, she gave me one of those Hallmark singing snowman things. You know, the plus things that, at the touch of a button, start singing a Christmas song. Mom loves that shit. I think it's a horrible waste of money, but they seem to make her happy.

I, on the other hand, very much prefer practical things. Gift cards and cash, obviously, are at the top of my list.

The solution here is clear. When mom goes shopping for me, she should buy me the thing she would least want to receive for Christmas. And I should follow the same lead for her.

That's why this year, I was happy to see a $50 Target card, and she was thrilled with her Santa cookie jar.

To the four people who still read this, I hope your Christmases were all merry and stuff.

Holy Cow

2009-12-09T17:53:00.000-08:00

It's December already. And not only is it December already, it's like almost a third of the way through December. Christmas is just over two weeks away.

I'm not buying presents for anyone this year. Anyone, that is, except for my mom. And my secret Santa person at work. And a couple of friends.

Everyone else is getting brownies. Deal with it.

Urban Outrage

2009-11-23T08:09:00.001-08:00

If I, a resident of the City of St. Louis, want to use the beautiful new recreational facility that my city tax dollars built in Carondelet Park (a public park), I have to pay $46 a month (that's $552 a year) to the YMCA, who is managing the facility.

If, however, I want to buy a non-resident membership to just about any similar facility in the bordering suburbs, I will pay less.

Riverchase (Fenton, MO): $330 a year ($27.50 a month)
The Heights (Richmond Heights, MO): $345 a year ($31 a month, if paid in installments)
St. Peters Rec Plex (St. Peters, MO): $365 a year ($36 initial payment, $31 a month after)
Arnold Recreation Center (Arnold, MO): $300 a year

As you can see, the Carondelet Rec Plex -- which was built with funds from a 1/8 cent sales tax increase, and was sold as a community center -- is a LOT more expensive than comparable facilities in the region. And you have to join the YMCA to use it. Sure, those municipalities have higher taxes -- or do they? I don't recall paying 1% of my income to the city of Maplewood (which has access to The Heights) when I lived there. I haven't heard of anyone from Arnold or St. Peters or Ballwin doing that, either.

This isn't anything new with the city. The city collects earnings taxes, personal property taxes, real estate taxes, and sales taxes (which are higher than surrounding communities, by the way -- if I want a burrito from the Qdoba by my house, I pay 11% in sales taxes), and what do we, the taxpayers of St. Louis, receive?

Our public schools are shitty. Our police department is corrupt. Crime runs rampant on the north side. When it snows, only the major streets get cleared. Sure, we have free trash removal, but I wouldn't be surprised to walk out to the alley one morning to find coin slots on the dumpsters. And once they put coin slots on the dumpsters, I'm guessing the adoption of a peep show business model by the zoo won't be far behind.

I was really looking forward to using this "community" center, too. I guess I'm just not a part of the "community" for which it was intended, since I'm one of the 70% of households in St. Louis with an income less than $50,000 a year.

The Sofa Spud's Guide to Fall 2009

2009-09-29T12:42:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I'm a bit of a couch potato. That shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone. I like my stories. And by "my stories" I obviously mean the TV shows I watch on a regular basis. Here's my take on what's what for Fall 2009:

SNL: The season premiere was weak. Really weak. The SNL writers had all summer to come up with something funny, and the best they could do was the 90 minutes of crap I reluctantly watched the other night? The only thing memorable about the opener of season 35 was newcomer Jenny Slate dropping the F-bomb in her very first sketch, ever.

And, sadly, that didn't make the show anymore interesting. It just provided another footnote. Regardless, I remain hopeful for SNL. But because this isn't an election year, I don't think it will be nearly as funny. Politics = comedy gold mine. Fail for the opener, hoping for a win later on.

The Office: Win. Next.

The Good Wife: Okay, this one is new. And a fellow Truman grad is one of the writers on the show, so I admit, I'm a bit biased. But still, I watched the series opener, and I was impressed. Check it out. It's good. All sorts of win here.

The Cleveland Show: Fail. Big fail. The Cleveland Show = Family Guy only it's in Virginia instead of Quahog, and it focuses on Cleveland instead of Peter. I mean, Jesus, it's even got a talking animal (the bear), a sassy Stewie stand-in, and relies heavily on cutaways (fill in the blank: "It's like that time I ____ with _____" and insert something ridiculous) instead of actual plots. And what's even worse is that Seth McFarlane now does three of the four shows on Fox's Sunday night lineup. Ugh. That brings me to...

Family Guy: Fail. Okay, Family Guy, it was cute for the first seven seasons. I get it -- you've got this sense of self-righteousness because Fox brought you back from the dead. However, that doesn't give you a pass to keep recycling the same moronic schtick that caters to mouth-breathing troglodytes and frat boys.

What's that? Troglodytes and frat boys are your target demographic?

Carry on.

How I Met Your Mother: Win, but Jesus, would you just fucking meet her already?

The big Bang Theory: Win. This was pretty much confirmed when it was renewed for not one, but two more seasons. That's unprecedented. However, now that Penny and Leonard have hooked up (after the long months spent at the north pole) where do we go from here? It's no longer a matter of will-they vs. won't-they. It's a matter of will-it-last vs. this-is-gonna-end-badly.

Antiques Roadshow: All sorts of win. Especially if you've got valuable old shit in your attic. Double win if your belt and your nipples are only inches apart.

Glee: Win, with reservations. I've got problems with the inaccurate details in a lot of TV scripts. In Glee, for example, the cheer coach offers a job to the teacher who was fired for making sexual advances toward a student. First of all, why is the cheer coach offering a job to someone? Sure, the plot makes it seem like she blackmailed the principal, but this is a public school. There are way more levels of bureaucracy to go through. Also, how does that disgraced teacher (who was offered the job by the cheer coach) get re-hired without a shitstorm from the public? I realize it's fiction, but come on writers, get off your duffs and do some research! And the main character's dad said he went from the military to law school. That's not how it works. You have to get an undergraduate degree somewhere along the way to get into any reputable law school. And on the subject of law school...

Community: I'm holding out for a win. Community has the potential to be funny. Really, it does. I'm just not seeing it, though. But then again, I'm not going to be too hasty, as the characters will (hopefully) develop over the coming weeks. But, based on what I said earlier about my issues with certain details. The show is about a guy who, as it turns out, got his law degree from Colombia (the country) not Columbia (the school.) Okay, that's fine. I'm following you. But then he is forced to go to community college to make up for it. And that's where the logical disconnect occurs. Community colleges offer, at most, associate degrees, so I'm really not sure how this is supposed to work out. Or maybe I'm just being obsessive about the details, like the character in Community who, in the first episode, identified himself as having Asperger's Syndrome. He's on the left in this hilarious clip:

See, everyone in the show is in a Spanish class. But what are they gonna do when the semester is over? Huh? Have you thought about that, NBC? That semester has to end sometime...

Parks & Recreation: Fail. This show was doomed from the start. I mean, jeez, NBC practically sold it as being The Office all over again. But it's not. It just isn't. It's not the same. It's not even in the same vein, even though it tries so hard to be. Although I did find the gay penguin wedding to be hilarious. Maybe P&R will have a sophomore rebound of sorts?

Californication: All sorts of win. I ordered Showtime JUST for this show, it's that good. David Duchovny is back as Hank Moody and he's just as much of a train wreck as ever. In this season's opener, after catching his daughter and her friend stoned out of their minds (they smoked his stash, too -- double burn), he is invited to a dinner party at the friend's parents' house. But, seeing how this is Hank Moody, of course, he nearly killed the man of the house (unknowingly) on his way there, and also enabled a fellow dinner guest to relapse after ten years of sobriety. Oh, and he has lots of sex, too. Hank Moody, you're still my hero.

And, what makes this show even better is the fact that, even though the title is Californication, they don't use the song of the same name for the opening credits. That'd just be cheap, and they know it.

Futurama: Win.

Wait -- did I just say Futurama? I sure did. Futurama only had four seasons, originally, when Cartoon Network picked it up in syndication, and that was like six years ago. Viewership soared, a la the Family Guy effect. The Futurama creators were approached about doing a feature-length, straight-to-DVD movie, which they made, and then followed up with three more, culminating in what was supposed to be the end of Futurama as we know it... But then Comedy Central picked up the episode and gave it life once more, not only by airing reruns of the original four seasons, but by segmenting those four movies into episodes AND ordering 26 BRAND NEW EPISODES, to be aired in mid-2010. I couldn't be more excited about this, as I believe Futurama is by far the most underrated animated series in the history of television. I think it's because of Hypnotoad.

Finally, 30 Rock: WIN. How could it not be full of win after last season's finale featured Alan Alda saying, "All this crying over a baby and a chicken? I thought this was supposed to be a comedy show!" I'd like to buy a drink for whoever came up with that line.

Disclaimer: The previously stated opinions may be total bullshit, as they were produced on equipment that frequently handles bullshit -- my brain. You've been warned.

Now go home, find a comfortable spot on your couch, and settle in for what looks like it's going to be a great year for television.

Stuff...

2009-08-27T22:02:00.001-07:00

I'm here. Sort of. I've been busy lately, primarily with work, but also with another project. Some of you know what that other project is. Others do not. And I'd like to keep it that way -- at least for now.

I spent $336 on my truck today. I needed to replace the front-end brakes and rotors, and had a brake fluid leak. And my heat shield was rattling, so the mechanic went ahead and tightened that up too, since he was down there. No charge on that one. Labor was only $100. Parts cost a bit more. But my truck runs (and, more importantly, stops) like new now. It's nice. The rotors had been warped for a while, causing some pulsations when I stepped on the brakes. Then this morning, when I started to drive to work, I barely tapped on the brake pedal and heard a weird noise -- not really sure how to describe it. But yeah, it was coming from the brakes. So I had it fixed. I feel a lot safer now. And this brake replacement was a lot cheaper than the last one about five years ago.

Of course, I'm also toying with the idea of buying a small car, like maybe a Yaris, to use as my everyday vehicle, and then keeping the truck parked in the alley. Of course, that requires money. Money I currently don't have, but I hope to, someday soon.

Honey is a gateway drug.

2009-08-12T07:50:00.000-07:00

I went to the airport yesterday to collect some baggage for some of our international students who arrived from China late Monday night. The bags, for the most part, made it ok. However, there was one bag – it was basically a plastic tote bag with a zipper – that was clearly at the end of its lifespan. As I loaded it into the van, I took a closer look at it.

And then I took a picture of it, because I knew I had to document this somehow. Otherwise, none of you would believe that this bag actually exists.

I’m guessing it’s supposed to say “bear” – and that it is not officially licensed by the Disney corporation.

And yes, I have already submitted it to the fine folks at Engrish.

Why I'm still up.

2009-08-10T23:33:00.001-07:00

It's 1:50 AM, and I'm wide awake. I'm wide awake because right as I was crawling into bed, I turned on the TV and saw a certain local blogger on a certain cable news show, discussing the health care reform issue.

You probably know who she is. I'm not going to mention her name here because based on an ordeal a year or two ago with a guy running a news feed site, I got the impression that she's really quick to lawyer up at the slightest bristle, so she shall remain nameless. Besides, she gets enough attention as it is, so she'll do just fine without my three readers linking to her as well. Plus, it doesn't really matter if you know who I'm talking about. Just know that she's a spokesperson for the anti-reform crowd. And she and her "followers" are not adding anything to the health care debate. Just recently, she was repeatedly invited to have an open and honest discussion about the health care issue via a series of twitter posts in which another local blogger called her out. The result of that -- the person who was on TV just now blocked the other blogger who had invited her to have a discussion.

She argued that most Americans who are against reform know what's in the bill and know why they're protesting. She argued that the crowds of tea baggers who are showing up to shout down their elected officials are tired of calling their offices and leaving a message with an aide. That they're tired of filling out online forms over and over again with their complaints.

Ron Reagan, who was arguing on behalf of reform, said that these people were not doing anything to foster an open discussion about this very important topic. In fact, he argued that these folks were being sent to shut down the debate. I couldn't agree more.

She countered that someone in St. Louis put an ad on Craigslist offering $90 an hour to people to come to the debates and support the pro-reform side.

I haven't seen the ad to which she was referring. However, apparently she isn't aware that any jackass can put an ad on Craigslist. Especially a jackass looking to stir up some shit in the community. Besides, anyone who has ever used Craigslist for anything knows that any job advertised on there as paying $90 an hour isn't actually going to pay $90 an hour, and probably isn't actually a real job.

But I digress...

Here's what the pro-reform side wants. We want an open, honest dialogue. If you're against change, that's fine, but articulate your reasons why in some way that doesn't devolve into a yelling match.

We want you to read the proposal that is out there. No, really. Go read it. It's at www.whitehouse.gov. Take the time to learn something about an issue before blindly supporting it or opposing it.

Then let's talk.

Until then, I think this commentary I heard on All Things Considered sums up how I feel about the state of the health care debate:

Oh, the irony...

2009-08-10T13:49:00.000-07:00

Read this.

Okay -- to recap...

This guy, Kenneth Gladney, attended Rep. Russ Carnahan's town hall meeting in Mehlville to protest health care reform. According to many, Gladney was instigating a lot of the shit that happened outside, and even assaulted someone himself. According to others, he was accosted. I guess it all depends on whose side you believe.

Either way, it's unfortunate that we can't have a civilized discussion. I put some of the blame on Carnahan for not being able to handle the situation. I am also disappointed that things got down to this level, and that someone was hurt.

Anyway, the Service Employees International Union -- a group in favor of health care reform -- sent its members there to show support for Obama's plan. Apparently Gladney got into a scuffle with some SEIU members and was hurt. So, naturally, there was a protest a couple days later at the SEIU office. Gladney was there in a wheelchair, protesting, and saying he was accepting donations for his medical care BECAUSE HE DOESN'T HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE.

The irony in here is deafening.

UPDATE

Apparently, Gladney is now saying he's insured. But he's still asking for donations.

Also, Gladney appears to be just fine in a video made immediately after the alleged attack.

I smell an opportunist.

What a waste...

2009-07-25T23:32:00.001-07:00

Tonight, I went to Target, where I purchased a total of four items. Razor blade refill cartridges, body wash, granola bars, and ibuprofen. When I got to the checkout line, the employee at the register was frantically calling for other employees on her walkie-talkie -- apparently having more than two people standing in line for a register at the Gravois Bluffs Target is a DEFCON 1 emergency.

Clearly, this was not your run-of-the-mill employee. She was a company woman, following corporate guidelines to the letter so customers could be moved through the checkout process quickly.

The woman in front of me had probably about 20 items, mostly small. Among these items was a gallon of milk. As the company woman began bagging this customer's purchases, she asked, "do you need a bag for your milk?"

Let me stop right here for just a minute. When you buy a gallon of milk, it comes in a plastic jug. A plastic jug with a built-in handle. The handle is integrated into the container design so a bag is not necessary.

So, what did this customer say when the company woman, doing her job per the company guidelines, asked if she would like a bag for the milk?

I think you already knew that she said yes. If she hadn't asked for her milk to be put in a plastic bag, I wouldn't be bitching about it on my blog. You know how this works.

What a waste. Seriously. And to make matters worse, the lady's 20 items ended up in no fewer than six bags. Six bags for a 75 yard walk to her car, which she would probably drive to her home, probably on a cul-de-sac, where she would then carry those six bags 20 feet to her kitchen. It's just not a situation that requires that many bags.

Soon enough, the customer and her bagged milk were on their way to the parking lot, and it was my turn to be rung up by the company woman. As she was scanning my items, she put the razor blade refills, the body wash, and the ibuprofen in one bag and started to put the granola bars in a bag by themselves.

"Why are you putting those in a different bag?" I asked company woman.

"I can't put chemicals and food in the same bag," she responded, while dropping my granola bars in the second bag.

"I don't want those in a bag," I said of the granola bars. "Just hand them to me, please."

She did, and as she handed me my receipt, I put the granola in the same bag as the "chemicals." I think she winced a little bit.

This rule makes absolutely no sense. I mean, I can understand if there is produce or raw meat involved, and you're not putting them in the same bag as a bottle of ammonia. But come on, granola bars? I've had a couple of these granola bars already, and let me tell you, they barely pass as food. In fact, the flavor might be improved by some sort of household chemical contaminant. But honestly, the bars are individually wrapped in a nearly impermeable silver plastic wrapper, and those are stored in a sealed cardboard box. Nobody is going to die if my body wash, which is also in a ridiculously secure container, happens to spill onto the cardboard.

Why does this make me so angry? Plastic bags don't really go away. They fester in landfills for eons. I mean, sure, some of us are concerned enough about the planet to recycle ours, but the percentage of people who actually do that is very, very small.

And nobody needs a bag for their milk. Nobody. I don't care if you're the freaking pope. You don't need a bag for your milk. It's already got a handle.

Imagine how many bags would be kept out of landfills if big stores like Target started using common sense when bagging. Seriously. It's a lot. Or if they started charging for bags. They already offer reusable bags for a nominal fee, but I've never seen anyone use them.

So, gentle readers (if you exist), the next time you buy a gallon of milk, skip the bag. Please. Do it for the planet.

Disconnecting

2009-07-22T11:46:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot of disconnecting over the last week.

A week ago today, I called AT&T and canceled my landline. When the lady asked my reason for canceling, I told her that the only people who ever called me were AT&T salespersons who were trying to sell me U-Verse.

The irony was not lost on the friendly AT&T rep who apologized and proceeded to schedule a time for someone to come over and disconnect the phone. I neglected to tell her that I was also receiving calls from other people on that line -- primarily telemarketers (despite my presence on both the state and nationa; do-not-call registries) and bill collectors seeking to contact people who had previously had that phone number. And occasionally my mother would call that number, too.

Then today, I deleted my MySpace account. MySpace is no longer relevant -- at least not for me. None of my friends use it anymore. Three years ago, it was a hopping place. For the last six months, though, every time I would log in, it felt like I was walking into a ghost town. None of my friends had logged in for weeks or even months. Nobody posted anything new. Plus, I never did care too much for the MySpace layout and the ridiculous number of "themes" that could be downloaded. Those things were really buggy and usually only "worked" in Internet Explorer, which is a browser I never use.

Since I'm on such a roll, what shall I cancel next?

The Demise of Print Journalism

2009-06-18T17:19:00.000-07:00

Tonight I had a visitor. It was the local paper delivery man. He looked haggard and beaten down. In one hand was a can of diet, caffeine-free soda (presumably because he'll have to be at work in eight hours), and in the other was a lit cigarette and a clipboard full of subscription forms.

As I opened the door, Doc lunged at him. That's what Doc does when a salesman or churchie comes to the door. He lunges. It's an endearing trait of his. Granted, Doc never bites -- only barks -- but he lunges nonetheless.

The guy started to tell me how he's been delivering the Post-Dispatch and Suburban Journals for over 30 years. He then tells me that the Suburban Journals are no longer free -- that if I wanted to keep receiving my weekly paper, I would have to subscribe.

"Good," I told him. "That thing would always go straight in the recycle bin. You can keep it."

See, I believe in honesty. Brutal honesty. Especially with salespeople. Particularly those who come to my door. That's why I told him that my employer participates in the newspapers for education program, and I can get a free copy of the Post-Dispatch, the New York Times, and USA Today in the lobby of my building five days a week. And I told him that I really don't read the Sunday paper. And then I told him what I know he didn't want to hear -- but what he needed to hear, and is probably hearing a lot:

"Also, I read the Post-Dispatch online."

He chided me for that. Chided! He told me that's not what you tell someone in his line of business. I told him I'm being up-front with him. He told me (again) that he's been delivering the paper to this route for over 30 years, and if he was blind, he could still hit the door. While this didn't impress me at all (since the Suburban Journal has not once been anywhere remotely near my door) I told him that I'd buy the Sunday paper from him for the coupons, since I do like to save money on stuff.

Then he wanted me to pay him in cash. Or by check. Or with a credit card. Right there. On my porch. Like 20 minutes ago.

I told him no thanks, and that the Post-Dispatch could send me a bill, which I would happily pay.

He persisted. I informed him that when I lived in Maplewood, the Post-Dispatch sent me a bill for a brand new subscription, and there weren't any problems with that. He said, "come on man, I'm struggling here -- I thought you were doing this for me."

Let's stop right here. If you are a door-to-door salesman, or if you are something else entirely but are somehow required to do door-to-door sales (such as a paper delivery person), and you are unlucky enough to land on my doorstep, don't insult my intelligence by trying to make the situation personal. It will make me immediately not want to buy your product and shut the door in your face.

The delivery man turned sales guy then proceeded to argue with me some more, even going so far as to say he'd wait for me, right there, on my porch, while I got my checkbook. I again said, "if the Post-Dispatch could bill me for a new subscription three years ago, they can do it now."

Then he said, "you're wasting my time," and walked away, ashing his cigarette on my porch.

Now, I know that occasionally, employees of the Post-Dispatch read this blog. Take note: I know times are tough for print media. Times are tough for everyone. Right now is a shitty time to exist, financially speaking. That being said, if you want to sell subscriptions, don't send the delivery guy door-to-door.

Your delivery guys are creepy. I know, I know, they work really hard for their money, just like everyone else. But if you're trying to drum up business, and you want to catch people while they're sitting at home eating dinner, don't send the chain smoker who has been up since 3 AM. By this time of day, he's cranky. Maybe he's always cranky. Who knows? I'm sure part of it is that he's sick of hearing assholes like me tell him that they get their news online.

And why do we get our news online? I do it because it's free. Also, it's more environmentally friendly. And it's free. And it's easy to find what I'm looking for. And it's free. And I don't have tons of newspapers piled up every day. And did I mention that it's free? No? Well, it is.

I'm sorry that print media is dying. I really am.

Actually, no, scratch that. Print media isn't dying. It is in its final death throes. But I'm still sorry. It's a consequence of progress, though. So, Post-Dispatch, if you want my help rearranging the deck chairs on your quickly sinking Titanic, don't send someone creepy to my door. It makes me like you less.

Window Shopping

2009-06-08T08:48:00.000-07:00

I'm looking for new windows for my house. My current windows are aluminum-framed single-pane windows. They leak heat like a sieve. All the screens are missing, too, so if I want to open the windows, I'm opening my home to everything that flies through the air.

Over the last couple of months, I've been gathering estimates from different companies. Here's what I've got so far:

New Transitions, LLC, St. Charles, MO - $3,838 for seven CertainTeed windows, including installation and removal and replacement of awnings outside. The company's owner, Bryan, came by my house when he was in the neighborhood, and gave me a free estimate. Very professional and extremely friendly, and I may be willing to pay more to support a locally-owned company.

Champion Windows - $4,200 for seven Champion Comfort 365 windows, plus an extra $279 for removing and replacing the awnings. Of all the products I've seen, this was my favorite, but I'm not totally convinced the extra cost is worth it. Additionally, the salesman respected my intelligence and was totally on the ball -- every question I asked, he answered without hesitation. And I asked lots of questions (I was at their showroom for two hours). He almost gave me too much information on their company and their product.

Drunk contractor at a bar - $1,900 for seven Cardinal windows. However, this guy didn't even take a look at my house, much less measure the windows, so I'm sure this would end up in court. I won't be using him.

Lowes - $1,650 for Wellcraft windows plus $139 per window for installation. Total job cost: about $2,800. The Lowes price was originally $1,900 plus installation, but the guy at the millworks desk made some money-saving adjustments on my large living room window (it's 96" wide and 48" high) and called me back later with the adjusted price. I really appreciated that he kept working on my estimate for a couple of hours after I left the store. However, I am concerned about the quality of the windows. Are windows from Lowes as good as windows from other sources?

Thomas Construction - this one was downright funny. The guy spent all of ten minutes at my house because Doc, my senile and normally docile dog, would not let him come inside. So the guy measured a couple of windows (not all of them) and came back to the door with a number scribbled on his business card. $11,394. However, he said that if I signed a contract before he left, they could do the job for $6,800. I told him that wouldn't be necessary, and I wouldn't waste any more of his time.

I can't believe that people really fall for the high-pressure sales tactics of Thomas Construction. They must, otherwise, Thomas wouldn't be able to stay in business. I guess St. Louis is full of suckers who will pay over $1,000 per window without considering alternatives. Obviously, I'm not one of those people.

I've received four estimates already, and plan to get at least two more, from Dalco and Window World. I may even get a few more after that.

City Living

2009-06-02T16:08:00.000-07:00

I have officially been a resident of the city of Saint Louis for almost eight months now, and I've learned that there are some unwritten rules for living here.

1.) Good fences definitely make good neighbors, so if you have a fence (and if you live in the city, you probably do), keep the weeds trimmed on your side.
2.) The alley isn't your personal space. If you have a grassy plot adjacent to the alley, sure, use it for whatever, but don't park your vehicle right in the middle of the alley.
3.) Also, don't walk down the alley. There are plenty of sidewalks to use. Also, walking down the alley riles up all the dogs on any given block.
4.) Many homes in the city have garages. Many more don't. For those homes without garages or driveways, street parking is the only other option. When you and your neighbors have to park on the street, the unwritten rule is that the area directly in front of your house is yours. Sure, I realize this is not enforceable in any court of law, but 99% of the time everyone will abide by this. It is easy to spot the newcomers to any street because they will, more often than not, park in front of two houses at once.
5.) It is good to know the people who live in front of, behind, and to the sides of your house. They will look out for your interests and you will look out for theirs because they are one in the same.
6.) If you live on a side street (like me -- Pennsylvania Avenue) don't hold your breath waiting for a snow plow. It will never come. The city says it will, but it is best to operate under the assumption that the city only has one snow plow. While city employees may not technically be lying when they say that your street will get plowed eventually, what they omit from this statement is that by the time "eventually" rolls around, it is July.
7.) Don't be afraid to dial 911 if something seems sketchy. Sure, you can call the police department's non-emergency numbers, but they're just going to tell you to hang up and dial 911.
8.) If you're hosting a party, barbecue, seance, or AA meeting at your house, inform your neighbors so they know that there will be a few extra cars parked on your street, but that it won't be a long-term thing. Nothing sucks more than to leave to get some groceries only to come back and find that some stranger from the county has parked midway between your house and your neighbor's house, making it impossible for any other vehicles to fit there, and then having to walk around the block with five bags of produce and frozen food.
9.) For the love of all things holy, don't try to make a U-turn in the middle of a block on a side street. Just go down to the next intersection and turn around there.
10.) If you're going to have some sort of outdoor gathering in your back yard, invite your neighbors. That way, they can't complain about the noise, since A) they knew about the party in advance, or B) they'll be there having a good time.

Do any of my fellow city-dwellers have anything to add? Specifically, I'm looking for St. Louis city dwellers, but if there are any opinions from other areas (NYC and Chicago friends, I'm looking at you), I'd love to hear your tips, too.

Current

2009-05-19T08:16:00.001-07:00

I really like Current. I'm finding that my TV is tuned to that station more and more. The vast majority of the programming is insightful, informative, and entertaining. And, as an added bonus, there aren't a lot of commercials.

Vanguard Journalism -- think Channel One for adults. It's in-depth journalism at its finest. To give you an idea of the stories this program covers, two regular Vanguard contributors, Laura Ling (yeah, that's Lisa Ling's little sister) and Euna Lee were arrested and detained by the North Korean military for "hostile actions" -- in other words, they were taken into custody for doing a story about people escaping from North Korea. They are still being held, and haven't had access to any representatives of western nations since March 30th (which is a violation of international law, but hey, it's North Korea -- since when have they honored international law?)

Infomania is a humorous look at the week's news -- sort of a hybrid of The Daily Show and Best Week ever. It also features great segments like Sarah Haskins' "Target Women."

SuperNews is a weekly animated show that is, simply put, too good to miss. While everything is a potential punchline for this show, it seems like Ashton Kutcher, Twitter, and hipsters are most frequently on the butt-end of the jokes.

Speaking of hipsters, there is one show I don't like so much. Described on the show's website as "A late-night hour of short form docs from around the world, curated by Max and Jason, two twenty-something dilettantes whose tastes run the gamut from pretty women to the meaning of life," Max and Jason: Still Up is nothing more than Max and Jason, a couple of hipsterish douchebags (who were college buddies), sitting in chairs while introducing video clips that other people made. Fittingly enough, the program is sponsored by Axe hair products.

Great. Just what I want to see. A couple of self-involved dudes in plaid shirts and trucker hats pondering the meaning of life and making confused movie references. Example, last night they were discussing lawnmower racing and one of them mentioned a "Forrest Gump lawnmower," confusing Forrest Gump with The Straight Story, a movie about a man riding his lawnmower from Iowa to Wisconsin. I know, I may be nitpicking, but I'm also a firm believer that if you're going to try to make a funny movie reference, you should at least know which movie you're referencing. Anyway, I get the distinct impression from watching Max and Jason that they just walk into the studio to do their show with zero prep. Lots of "umms" and "uhhhs" and even more fidgeting. Jesus, guys, you're getting paid to do this show. At least try to act more professional than a high school video productions class.

Despite my disdain for Max and Jason (along with my envy, because I could totally do what they do, and it would be better, and less fidgety), Current is an awesome channel. I'm addicted.

It takes all kinds?

2009-04-29T12:17:00.000-07:00

Last night at Schnucks, I encountered a south city version of my mom.

I was standing in the checkout line and the lady in front of me had in her hands two 20 ounce bottles of soda and a candy bar. When her purchase was rung up, she paid for it by writing out a check.

She did not know the date.

She also wrote the check out for ten dollars over the purchase amount.

I called my mom to tell her about this.

"I just did that at the grocery store this morning," she said.

"I know," I replied, "you always do that."

Seriously, she's done that for years. It's humorous because the same exact thing can be accomplished in one tenth of the time with a debit card. Plus, really, what are you going to do with ten bucks these days? I know ten bucks wouldn't get me very far. It would buy me lunch, but not a lunch I would want to eat. Then again, my mother and her gang of similarly-aged ladyfriends could probably stretch that ten bucks out for days.

This would be the point at which some people would just say, "it takes all kinds!" and move on, because I'll be the first to admit that this story doesn't have much of a point. Yet.

What's up with that phrase, anyway?

"It takes all kinds."

What takes all kinds? All kinds of what? What the hell? Is this supposed to mean something, or are these just words people say when they're bored with what another person is saying with the hope that it will make that person shut up? Maybe it's just a response used by people who don't pick up on the cue that the preceding sentiments were open-ended, meant to incite discussion rather than solicit a specific response.

I didn't write about my mother because I was hoping someone would tell me why people of a certain age do something (although if you are an anthropologist, sociologist, or psychologist, please feel free to weigh in). I wrote about her because I thought it was funny and wanted to share it with you, and perhaps encourage you to tell me that your 66 year old mother also does that very same thing. And if your mother does that very same thing, I bet she also pronounces the word sundae as sun-duh.

I do, however, want specific answers to the "it takes all kinds" queries above. I will also accept your comments on other phrases and their various uses, such as "out of pocket" (I've heard it used to describe someone who was unavailable), "another day in paradise" (workplace context only, please), or "what can you do?"

Okay, go.

Baby Boom

2009-04-19T14:37:00.000-07:00

There's something in the water. And that something is semen.

I'm at that point in my life where most of my friends are married and are now starting to have kids. Because, you know, the late 20s/early 30s seems to be the time when everyone wants to get married and procreate.

Okay. Whatever. I'm down with that. I mean, for some couples, getting a puppy isn't enough. But anyway, I'm really glad that, during these wedding and babymaking years, I'm a guy.

See, guys don't have to go to showers. The only shower that is expected of us is the one we're supposed to take once a day to keep from smelling like death. No toilet paper wedding dresses for us. No bow bouquets. No weird baby games. Seriously. None of that crap. And for this I am grateful.

No, all that is expected of men before these major life events is our attendance at a bachelor party. Which, as you know, is much different than a bridal shower or a baby shower.

I'm also glad I'm a morally ambiguous person, so nobody asks me to be a godparent. I have one godchild -- my nephew Chris -- and I think he and I both understand that I'm really not the person he should be going to for spiritual guidance. Although he does despise going to church, so I guess there is a parallel there -- a parallel for which I claim zero responsibility.

Guys have it very easy. We just have to show up once, and even then, drunkenness is an expectation.

It's good to be a guy.

The things we learn from teevee...

2009-03-31T20:26:00.000-07:00

Last night, the teevee (specifically, How I Met Your Mother) taught me all about Murtaugh Lists.

The Murtaugh List, named after the Lethal Weapon character, LAPD Detective Roger Murtaugh, is a list of things you're too old to do. Because throughout the series, Detective Murtaugh's catch phrase is "I'm gettin' too old for this shit!"

So I started thinking (like the rest of the blogosphere -- I never claimed this would be original) about what is on my Murtaugh List. And I came up with the following:

- Staying up past midnight when I have to be at work at 8.
- Sleeping on couches.
- Consuming any beverage described as “jungle juice.”
- Living in squalor.
- Sleeping past 9 AM (note that there are a few circumstances where it’s okay to wake up before 9 and then go back to bed to take an extended nap until noon or so – these circumstances are called “weekends.”)
- Taking my laundry to my mom’s house.
- Driving a vehicle with more than two bumper stickers. I have two on mine as of right now – one for Jay Nixon, one for Barack Obama.
- Drinking games.
- Consuming any Hostess product.
- Eating any breakfast cereal that has less than 5% fiber.
- Eating gas station cuisine.
- Playing touch football – because we all know “touch” means “full contact.”
- Horseplay of any sort.
- Most of the programming on MTV.
- Silly ringtones.
- Wearing any clothing that has a cartoon character on it (yes, this includes my Bear-Shark and Bad Graphics Ghost shirts)
- Paying money to see any movie with Vin Diesel.
- Z 107.7
- The club scene.

I posted this on Facebook (another thing that should possibly be on the lists of many individuals), and one friend -- who is 31 -- pointed out to me that this past weekend, she spent time watching the first season of Freakazoid while laying on an air mattress.

It could have been worse -- she could have spent that time watching cartoons featuring younger versions of already-established characters (think Muppet Babies, Flintstone Kids, Little Rosie, Tiny Toon Adventures, etc.)

But really, I guess age is more of a state of mind. And, as a few people pointed out, the only thing on their Murtaugh List is minors.

Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me

2009-03-15T17:38:00.000-07:00

As you may or may not know, I was a contestant on NPR's Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me back in October. I was the listener in the stump-the-listener challenge, and I was not stumped. Therefore, I won Carl Kasell's voice on my answering machine.

Well, the CD with his greeting (which I had to write) finally arrived. In it, Carl Kasell says:

"Hi, this is Carl Kasell from Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me on National Public Radio, and I'm here to let you know that Bob can't answer your call right now, but in the meantime, let's play a round of the listener limerick challenge:

Bob didn't answer his phone, what a creep
He might be ignoring you, or gone, or asleep
But hold on there Jack
He'll call you right back
So leave your message right after the ____."

For the select few who know my home phone number, you can call it and listen to the message now. It's pretty sweet.

The things I apparently hold dear...

2009-02-27T19:54:00.000-08:00

My fraternity's founders day is coming up in a few weeks. I'm still not sure if I'm going to attend, even though this year's celebration should be a big one. It is, after all, our 30th anniversary. In preparation for possibly attending such an auspicious event, I started looking around the house for my badge.

Background: each initiated member of Alpha Tau Omega receives a small badge with his unique initiation number on the back, along with a couple of other things that I can't tell you about because they're secret and stuff. I will tell you that I was the 182701st person to be initiated into the Alpha Tau Omega fraternity since its inception on September 11 (yes, really), 1865. Needless to say, the pin is a very special symbol of a man's membership in something much bigger than himself. One of my fraternity brothers (who shall remain nameless) was an RA with me in the dorms, but left midway through the year to study abroad. In the rush to depart Kirksville that December (and who can blame him?), he inadvertently left his pin in his dorm room. Thankfully, his roommate found it and gave it to me. Because this brother was flying back home for the summer on TWA -- yes, I'm dating myself here -- he had a layover in St. Louis. And because this was pre-9/11/01, I was able to meet him at the airport for a couple of beers. When I went, I brought his badge with me. Much to my surprise, he was actually very glad to see it.

So yeah, the badge is an important thing. Granted, you can order a replacement. But it's just not the same as your very first one. And, if I'm going to go to Founders Day this year, I want to have my badge with me.

I vaguely remembered putting my badge and another important piece of jewelry -- my high school ring -- in a safe place, stored in a small pouch. I looked in about three different "safe" places, and couldn't find the pouch. I was really worried. I thought I had lost them in the move. I mean, I could have my badge replaced for less than $20, but my high school ring is not so easy to replace.

When I got my ring, my mother persuaded me to get the more expensive 14k gold ring. I grumbled and groaned, but then she offered to pay the $50 or so price difference. So I went ahead and did it. I recall mentioning this to one of my teachers (who also happened to be my friend Charlie's dad), and he said that I had made a good decision, as the ring made of the higher quality materials would leave a bigger mark in a bar fight and would be worth more if I had to pawn it. Fortunately, I have never had the opportunity to find out if either of those things is true.

I looked a few more places, and still, no small pouch containing the ring and the badge. I resigned myself to the fact that I had lost them and began cleaning up the mess I had made in the search. I opened up an already-cluttered drawer and began to return the things I had removed during my semi-frantic search.

And then I heard it. A clunk, followed by a chink.

No, that's not some sort of racist punchline. It's onomatopoeia. Learn the fucking difference.

I went to the source of the sound and found the pouch. They were safe and sound.

It occurred to me at that moment how much those stupid little material things mean to me, even though I rarely use them. Hell, I haven't worn my class ring in probably a decade, and I don't know when the last time was I wore my badge, but their meaning isn't diminished through lack of use. If anything, their meaning has grown because I rarely use them. They are special because they are reminders of the people and places responsible for making me the man I am today.

Extremist Parenting

2009-02-24T17:28:00.000-08:00

I've been to the mall twice in the last four days.

I know, I know, you're thinking, "what is this, 1993?" Valid point.

No, you see, I went to the mall on Saturday night because I got this coupon in the mail from a jewelry store -- well, really, my dad got this coupon in the mail from a jewelry store that is unaware that A) he is dead, and B) he doesn't live at my house -- and it was for a free pair of pearl earrings. I mentioned the coupon to my mom, and naturally, being the pack rat she is, she wanted me to go get the earrings for her. Since I'm a good son, I did just that. And I brought backup with me in the form of Becker.

But really, Becker and I had just eaten a big dinner at Chimichangas and had some time to kill before he went off and partied with his girlfriend and her roommates, and before I turned into a pumpkin for the night.

So we got the earrings.

Then Monday night, I decided I wanted to go to the Borders at this mall. So I went. The Norton Anthology of American Literature was on sale for $3.99 per volume. So I bought the three volumes that covered 1865 to the present. Because, let's face it, American literature before 1865 was really, really boring. And I can say that with some authority, since I took about four different American literature classes in college. But awesome book sales aside, the Monday night trip to the mall was kind of interesting...

As I arrived, a lady was exiting the mall with two small children in tow. One was about seven or eight. He was doing his own thing, but generally following his mom. The other one was about three and was screaming as if his life depended on it. The mother was, apparently, the kind of parent who exerted control over her children through implied terror. As they approached the crosswalk to cross the empty street to their car on the nearly deserted parking lot, the mother said, "hold my hand -- a car might come along and hit you and kill you."

"Really?" I thought. "That's kind of like going all in on your first hand, lady. You should save some of that sauce for later." But I was mistaken, as there was plenty of the aforementioned sauce to go around.

"There are spiders in the parking lot, and they're going to eat you!" the lady yelled at her shrieking son. "You have to stay close to me!"

Okay, now, just wait a damn minute. If I was that kid, I'd be questioning my mother's fitness for parenting at this point. I mean, what sort of parent parks their car in an area this unsafe? Crazy murderous drivers? Hungry child-eating spiders? What the hell? Wasn't there any other place to park?

This whole time, the older kid is doing just fine, following behind his mom and brother at a safe distance of ten feet or so. He clearly wasn't interested in being associated with those two and their foolishness.

Then, when they were in the crosswalk and I was about 30 feet away in the middle of the street (again, I remind you that there is practically nobody here, so jaywalking is very excusable at this point), the lady ups the ante with the little kid one more time, just to make sure her child is too scared to run away.

"There are monsters out here, and they're going to get you!" she yelled.

And as she yelled it, both she and the screaming child at her knee looked directly at me. And, in one of those strange circumstances where you lock gazes with another person, I looked directly at her. And then her kid.

And while I had thought the earlier screaming was something for the record books, this kid drove it right on home.

I frightened a small child from ten yards away while doing nothing out of the ordinary.

One more item checked off my bucket list.

The Simpsons' New Intro!

2009-02-15T16:57:00.000-08:00

Happy VD?

2009-02-14T21:07:00.000-08:00

How does one go about complaining about a bad haircut? I mean, when you're sitting in a chair at the barbershop or salon or whatever and someone is standing behind and above you with scissors, it doesn't seem like you're in a position to complain about anything.

I got my hair cut at Great Clips the other night. It was about 8 PM and the place was empty, so I knew I could get it done quickly. They did a fine job -- my hair isn't hard to cut. However, what brought this issue to the forefront of my cranium is the guarantee that came on the receipt. How does one guarantee a haircut? It seems like a rather abstract thing to guarantee. I mean, really, the only thing a company can do is promise not to charge you for totally botching something, but who makes that call?

Clearly the world needs some sort of hairdressing ombudsman.

In other news, I have to work this week. A lot. It will probably be a 60 hour week by the time it's all said and done. I'm also going to start advising students. That should be interesting for all parties involved.

Because I'm going to be working so much this week, my mother is watching Doc until next Friday or Saturday when things slow down a bit. Mom is a bit of a canine hypochondriac. She has taken Sasha to the vet a lot more than the average pet owner. Mom called me tonight to tell me that Doc sometimes is a bit stiff when he gets up. I reminded her that he's at least ten years old and as such, tends to have stiffness in his joints.

"Well," she said, "don't you have him on medicine for that?"

"No," I said. "No I do not. He's not sick. He's old and he's stiff. Just let him stretch out a bit and he'll be fine. He always is."

She wasn't too happy with my response. But really, he's fine. He's just old. When you get older, your body fails. This is true whether you're a dog or a person.

Well, just got a video chat request. Gotta run. Happy VD. Or something.

It's not you, it's me.

2009-02-10T14:23:00.000-08:00

Yeah, um, so I know I haven't written anything in a while. It's not that I've forgotten about you or anything. I mean, you've been on my mind. Really. You have. I swear. I mean, it hasn't been that long...

What's that you say? Nearly eight weeks? Oh man -- I had no idea. Really. I swear. It's just that I've been so busy, what with my DVR and all.

No, you haven't been replaced by a glorified VCR! I could never do that to you, blog! I swear! It's just that -- I don't know -- I just sort of... Don't have much to say.

I mean, I have things to say. I just never get around to publishing them on you anymore.

I got you a new layout!

No, I didn't mean it like that! Baby, don't get mad! I just thought you might like a new look!

What's that? No, I didn't change the layout because of how you looked before! I liked the way you looked before -- it's just that now, you -- we -- can maybe make a little money off of this whole internet thing. I mean, if people click on those ads, maybe we'll get some cash. And then I can pay for your domain name for another year or two. I mean, I know the new layout doesn't make up for my absence. I just thought a change would be nice.

Look, blog, I like you just fine the way you are. We've been through a lot together -- my graduation from college, my search for gainful employment, my dad's death, another search for gainful employment, and a few weekend trips... You've been there the whole time, telling the world what I've been up to. I could never forget all that you've done for me. I just haven't had the time -- no, scratch that -- I haven't made the time for you.

I'll try harder. I promise.

Facebook-induced nostalgia

2008-12-19T22:37:00.000-08:00

In the last few weeks, Facebook has reacquainted me with a good number of people who lived in my hall during my freshman year in college. Some of these people I hadn't talked to in seven or eight years, and it occurs to me that my current understanding of who they are has a lot to do with who they were then, when, in fact, they are (most likely) completely different people now.

Lord knows I've changed. A lot.

Since my first year in college, I've become a lot less socially awkward. Granted, I'm still sort of awkward, but I really had some issues interacting with people back then. I'm talking about a total lack of comprehension of social cues.

I'd like to think that I'm less negative now, too.

My hair is thinner, my waistline is bigger, but my ego is smaller. Today, I'm much more willing to admit when I'm wrong. And, as it turns out, I'm wrong at times -- just like everyone else.

I've learned that, if you're sorry for something, you should say so right away, because the longer you wait to apologize, the harder it becomes*. There are two people in particular to whom I really need to apologize.

There -- done. I just e-mailed them. And that brings me to another thing I've learned -- no matter how much you think you deserve forgiveness, you have to remember that forgiveness is not always an option for those who have been wronged. It may take a while. It may take years. It may never happen at all. The best you can do is offer a sincere apology and hope for forgiveness.

I'm less naive. I'm more realistic. I'm more responsible. I'm less likely to eat Oreos. I'm more likely to eat celery.

I have a better understanding of sadness than I did in 1998. And, as a result of that, I have a better idea of all the forms happiness can take. I value friendships more -- especially those that have lasted a long time. I've also learned that some people who you may have considered to be really good friends are just plain flaky, and will stop talking to you for no apparent reason whatsoever -- or, even worse, for a really stupid reason that doesn't actually involve you at all. And if they aren't willing to put some effort into being a friend, then that's their decision.

I'm going to be honest here -- I still take some things for granted. I don't take time to stop and smell the roses. I still suck at life in many ways. The difference is that I wouldn't have been as introspective ten years ago.

So, how have you changed in the past ten years?

Listening

2008-12-13T23:07:00.000-08:00

I've been living in my house for seven weeks now, and each day I hear my house -- and my neighborhood -- telling me something new.

The industrial complexes positioned between Broadway and the Mississippi River emit an unending hum, constant as the plumes of steam and smoke rising from their stacks. The multitude of dogs in the neighbors' yards, communicating with the other local canines (perhaps more than their humans communicate with one another). This communication differs from the multiple alarms sounded by the same dogs when an unfamiliar person is walking down the street, such as a hapless AT&T salesman, trying desperately to get people to welcome Ma Bell back into their homes. The honking of horns at any hour of the day or night from the house across the street and down a bit. Perhaps the occupant carpools to work at a job with terrible hours. Perhaps the person driving is an inconsiderate asshole. Perhaps it's a bit of both. The hum of cars driving slowly down the street. The whoosh of the handful of reckless youths barreling down the same street with little regard for the safety of others. Always in a hurry, but rarely going anywhere.

Occasionally, in the distance, a tug will sound its horn, but more often than not, they deliberately trudge upstream and down in relative silence, regardless of the hour. The river never sleeps, for a barge can not make money if it is anchored and empty.

The refrigerator hums. The furnace clunks on as the gas hisses through the pipes and whooshes out to the flame inside the firebox. Moments later, the blower softly comes alive and sends its warmth throughout the house.

Doc rises from his blanket on the floor in the corner of my office to see if any more food has found its way to his bowl. Even though it is 1 AM and he never is fed at this time, he checks, as it is better to be safe than hungry. His nails tap tap tap tap tap along the cold floor as he makes his way back to his bed where, minutes after laying down, he begins to snore.

Proposition 8: The Musical

2008-12-03T21:26:00.001-08:00

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die

Black Friday

2008-11-28T04:38:00.001-08:00

I did something very much not in line with my personality -- I got up at 5:30 AM to go shopping.

I went to Lowe's, though, so that makes it not as bad (in my eyes.) I got a storage cabinet for my tools for $60 less than its regular price. I got a ladder for a similar discount. And I also picked up some storage bins so I can store things. Granted, the bins are very Christmasy -- red with green lids -- but they were like five bucks, buy one get one free.

I wasn't surprised to see a line outside the store when I arrived at 5:50 AM. I was, however, very surprised at how extremely polite and civil everybody was inside the store -- both employees AND the early bird customers who, I presumed, would have dollar signs in their eyes. Nope. Everyone was pretty polite.

I guess it's that holiday spirit. And the fact that Lowe's is NOT Best Buy. As I was getting ready, there was some dude being interviewed on TV who had been outside of one particular store since Tuesday.

That's right, Tuesday. What the hell? I wish I had that kind of time.

Wait, no I don't.

Turkeymas Eve

2008-11-26T11:24:00.000-08:00

It's Turkeymas Eve. Also known as Skanksgiving.

Anyway, I just went to the grocery store to get some stuff for tomorrow's family feast. This year, I've been told I'm bringing green bean casserole. This, in spite of the fact that I have never made green bean casserole. Ever. I've eaten my fair share, but never made it. I'm sure it can't be too tough, though.

Apparently Turkeymas Eve is a big day for French's fried onions and Campbell's cream of mushroom soup. Both were nearly gone, although I'm sure the fine folks at Schnucks have ample supplies in the storeroom.

In other news, I got a dog. He's somewhere between 10 and 15 years old, partially blind, mostly deaf, and flatulent.

His name is currently Doc, but I'm thinking of changing it to something else. I mean, shit, it's not like he will actually hear me calling him. He uses his nose to get around. Although he does like staring out the window -- I often see his little head between the glass and the curtains when I return home.

He snores. He snores louder than me. Sometimes it wakes me up at night. Speaking of waking up, I have to wake HIM up every morning. It's a process that takes a while, given his near-blindness and almost-deafness. And when I'm waking him up, I can't just do it by calling his name (he won't hear) or petting him (he'll get startled and his heart might quit) -- no, I have to tap my foot gently on the floor near him until he feels and decides to roll over. This morning it took me about a minute of tapping.

Because of his advanced age, he doesn't do stairs too well. I mean, he does fine going down them, as he showed me the one time he followed me into the basement. He then showed me a few minutes later, that he can only make it about halfway up the stairs before he does a reverse otter slide back down to the bottom (which makes a disturbingly satisfying "plop" noise when he gets there.) So, basically, if there are more than a few stairs, I need to carry him up.

He barks like a beagle at things he probably can't even see or hear. Have you ever heard a beagle bark? It's very annoying. And loud. Oh so loud. He pees on the sidewalk (but thankfully not inside the house), and he left a turd there once too.

So, all-in-all, he seems alright.

On Being a Homeowner

2008-11-09T14:38:00.000-08:00

I've had no shortage of odds and ends to take care of as a homeowner. In the last few weeks, I've done the following:

- Painted all of my unpainted interior doors to match the others.
- Hung a really neat curtain rod over the front window, complete with some thermal panels.
- Installed a towel rack in the bathroom.
- Replaced a glass slat in the jalousie door that serves as my side door. Side note -- what kind of idiot uses a jalousie door for an exterior door in Missouri? I'm guessing it's the slumlord kind of idiot, since this was a rental property, occupied by approximately 47 people at once, judging by the mail I receive...
- Replaced the mostly disintegrated weather stripping on the front door.
- Had the furnace cleaned and serviced (It's nice and toasty in here right now).
- Installed a light in the laundry room.
- Installed a similar light in the kitchen, under the cabinets.
- Transferred some paint from the huge buckets I had into smaller quart buckets to be used as touch-up paint.

In the last month, I believe I've made no fewer than a dozen trips to Lowe's and/or Home Depot. Also, I stopped by Linens & Things on my way home from work on Friday. They've got some super good deals right now. That's how I got a nine foot wide curtain rod for $15.

Being a homeowner is alright so far. But I still have so much to do...

This Week

2008-11-04T22:18:00.000-08:00

It's been a good week. A really good week. At least for me it has been. And for all my Obama-supporting friends.

I listened to President-Elect Obama's first press conference today. It was vague, but I thought it was good. He answered the question of the presidential puppy with the same serious tone as questions about the economy and Iran, which I found humorous.

Of course, the press conference interrupted Talk of The Nation: Science Friday, one of my favorite NPR programs. Late in the show, callers were asked what they thought President-Elect Obama should focus on (in terms of science) in his first term.

That's when something occurred that, without fail, annoys the crap out of me. Some guy called in to recommend a particular individual for the role of science adviser within the Obama administration.

I don't even remember who the person "recommended," so that's not what I found annoying. What I found annoying was addressing a topic via an unrelated channel. A better example of this is whocallsme.com, where people log unsolicited commercial phone calls. And then people complain.

While many of the entries on that site are helpful descriptions of the nature of the phone calls (and sometimes, even a company name), there are always a few where people write, "I want my name off your list," "stop calling me!" or something similar, in which the author of the post will address the company making the phone calls.

Do you see where I'm headed with this?

Complaining about something on some random website isn't going to change anything. If you're on a government no call list, there are forms to fill out to report unwanted phone calls. And I guaran-damn-tee you that posting on the aforementioned website will not result in action by your attorney general's office (they're the ones who act on no call list complaints) and it's even less likely that your comment will actually accomplish anything with the company.

So, really people, if you're going to complain about something, do it so it means something. If you're going to suggest someone to be President Obama's science adviser, tell his transition team. If you want someone to stop calling you, talk to your state's attorney general. For Pete's sake, folks, make sure there's some sort of logical connection in place when you make a suggestion or complain about something. A good general rule for this -- the ease of making a complaint or suggestion via a particular medium is inversely relative to the effectiveness of that medium's ability to make sure the right people are hearing your voice.

Complaining on a random website about telemarketers calling you is easy, but it won't get results. Complaining to the attorney general will require that you fill out forms with detailed information, but it is more likely to yield actual results.

That's all I've got.

Oh, by the way, I still can't entirely believe that this campaign is over, and Barack Obama won the election.

Sarah Palin, I'll miss you the most.

Moving Day

2008-10-25T16:15:00.000-07:00

I rented a U-Haul today, filled it with all my stuff, and went on my merry way from Maplewood to Carondelet.

At 8:30, my sister Suzanne arrived and helped me with the last of the packing. Around 10 I went to get the truck. Soon thereafter, Jason, Charlie, and Jill arrived to help load up. We packed the thing as full as it would go. Soon, Charlie, Jason, and I were on our way to the house with the truck. The unloading went much faster than the loading. Niki soon arrived with McDonald's for all of us. We all ate, and then Niki started organizing the kitchen while the three of us returned the truck. Jason went home, and Charlie and I went back to the apartment, where Jill was coming back from lunch.

The apartment where I spent the last two years, seven months, and 14 days is now completely empty. It's so empty it echoes. The campsite rule applies here, as we left the apartment much cleaner than I found it in March of '06.

It seems so weird to walk in there now. It is so dark, so empty, so sparse. My house has windows. It gets direct sunlight. It's great. The apartment was basically in the basement, and it sucked.

I hope I never have to live in an apartment like that again. I'm really not sure how I did it for so long.

After grabbing the last of my things from the fridge and setting it to defrost (because it REALLY needs to defrost), I came back to the house, where Anne had joined Niki with the organization.

The kitchen is completely unpacked and organized. The living room is mostly organized. The spare bedroom is 300% less messy than it was before. The empty boxes are stacked in the basement.

And now, here I am, alone, but in my own house. It no longer echoes. The walls are different colors. The windows have blinds and curtains. The bed is (almost) made. And I've done three loads of laundry already today. My fridge has food in it, my laptop has an internet connection, and the DirecTV installer will be here on Tuesday. There is still much to do here, but thankfully, there is very little left to do at the apartment, and while I will miss living in Maplewood, I will definitely not miss driving back and forth between the apartment and the house.

So... Yeah. I'm a homeowner. Cool, huh?

Busy, busy, busy...

2008-10-19T11:56:00.001-07:00

If you know me in real life, outside the blogosphere, and you're in the area, I could use your help.

I need help packing, but I think I've got enough boxes. I just need someone to help me go through and actually accomplish something. I'll need help moving stuff to my house from my apartment. I'll also need some help turning my house into a home -- which is done by filling it with friends. If we're friends and you're in the area, you probably received the evite for the housewarming party. If not, however, drop me a line.

Oh, and if you want to help me pack or move (or both), seriously, call me. :)

I'm a Big Kid Now.

2008-10-10T13:04:00.000-07:00

I bought a house this morning. Seriously, I spent like an hour signing my name.

So, all you folks who I've helped move (some multiple times) over the years -- go stock up on Ben Gay. It's payback time.

The Debate

2008-10-02T19:00:00.000-07:00

I think my friend Niki described the debate best:

"Joe Biden is like Sarah Palin's teacher. He's like the college professor and she's that whiny girl who always thinks she's right and knows more. She's the girl in class I rolled my eyes at."

The Office

2008-09-26T09:39:00.000-07:00

After last night's season premiere of The Office, one thought keeps darting around in my brain -- what if Jim's proposal to Pam turns truck stops into romantic destinations?

I mean, seriously, you KNOW some unoriginal lame-o is going to propose to his girlfriend at a truck stop now just because that's how Jim and Pam got engaged on The Office.

Ahem...

2008-09-23T20:44:00.000-07:00

This $700,000,000,000 (that's right - eleven zeros) bailout for Wall Street really bothers me. Why the hell should we have to pay for the mistakes of some greedy executives? I'm not an economist (clearly), but rather, a very concerned American taxpayer. If a regular Joe or Jane was having money issues, would the federal government bail them out? Fuck no. So why should we bail out these companies? What the fuck have they done for the American taxpayers lately?

Does anyone else find it fishy that Henry Paulson used to be the CEO of Goldman Sachs? Anyone? Anyone at all? What is going to be worse - the failure of some banks, or driving ourselves seven hundred billion dollars into debt? That's an insane amount of money to spend on something that doesn't really even address the greater problem, whatever that greater problem is. That's right - I'm not even sure what the greater problem is, but I sure as hell know that the greater problem is NOT the potential failure of some Wall Street firms.

What really scares me about all of this is that nobody seems to have any solid answers. Although, after following some of the discussion about this situation between my fraternity brothers in our online forum, I did hear one suggestion that makes a lot of sense - that maybe it's time to shift our economy toward greener industries. Granted, this statement was directed at a brother who, as an architect, is getting worried about his job security (since the demand for such services is closely tied to the economy), but I think it can have a broader application.

I know this is barely scratching the surface, but what are your thoughts?

My Big Idea

2008-09-22T09:50:00.001-07:00

I've figured out how to make my house pay for itself in three little words: urban alpaca ranching.

I've got a decent-sized back yard with a chain-link fence around it. What could possibly go wrong with this scenario?

That's right. Absolutely nothing.

Now I just need financial backers. Alpacas are expensive!

The Curious Cucumber

2008-09-21T13:42:00.000-07:00

Has anyone ever seen a cucumber do this?

No? Come on over.

It's Official

2008-09-20T12:37:00.000-07:00

I'm under contract for this house.

The pictures on that website don't really do it justice, but I did take some pictures myself, which I have added to my myspace and facebook profiles. It's a nice little place, and the time and price are right.

We close on my 29th birthday, so for everyone out there who knows me personally, prepare yourselves to hear about the most expensive birthday gift I ever bought myself for the rest of my natural life.

It's what everyone is talking about...

2008-09-15T11:32:00.001-07:00

And it is brilliant.

Olbermann on 9/11(tm)

2008-09-12T06:28:00.001-07:00

Ewok, Hobbit, or Palin?

2008-09-04T07:21:00.000-07:00

What do Ewoks, Hobbits, and Palins have in common? It’s not their stances on supply-side economics. No, it’s their nomenclature. They all seem to have unusual names. Which of these names belongs to an Ewok, which belongs to a Hobbit, and which ones are members of Alaska’s First Family, the Palins?

1. Asha
2. Bosco
3. Gundolpho
4. Willow
5. Malani
6. Piper
7. Marcho
8. Wicket
9. Shodu
10. Bristol

The answers are below.

Just for your clarification here are an Ewok, a Hobbit, and a pair of Palins:

Ewoks

Hobbits

Palins

Are you ready for the answers?

1. Asha Chirpa is an Ewok
2. Bosco Boffin is a Hobbit
3. Gundolpho Bolger is also a Hobbit
4. Willow is one of Sarah Palin’s daughters
5. Malani is an Ewok
6. Piper is also a Palin daughter
7. Marcho is a Hobbit – he founded The Shire with his brother Blanco
8. Wicket W. Warrick is perhaps the most famous of all Ewoks
9. Shodu Warrick is also an Ewok and Wicket’s mother
10. Bristol is another Palin daughter.

How did you do?

No Words

2008-09-02T19:25:00.000-07:00

There's been something on my mind lately, and I've wanted to write about it, but everything I came up with just didn't seem right. So I'll keep it simple.

Karl Kopitske passed away on 8/22/08. I knew him, but not all that well. I did, however, respect and admire him, and rather than be disappointed that I didn't get a chance to know him better, I'm glad I had a chance to know him at all.

He meant the world to some folks who mean a lot to me, and, understandably, they're having a really hard time adjusting to a world without him. And for those of you out there to whom this applies (you know who you are), you're in my thoughts, along with Karl's family and all of his many, many friends.

Regarding Sarah Palin

2008-08-29T20:33:00.001-07:00

You may have heard something odd this morning when John McCain announced that Sarah Palin would be his running mate.

What you heard was a collective, "wait, what?"

Man oh man... Talk about pandering.

The Wet Seat

2008-08-29T08:52:00.000-07:00

I left my truck's driver's side window open last night. It was a total brain fart. I thought I was going to be heading out again after I got home from house-hunting, but I ended up watching Barack Obama's acceptance speech from home and going to bed.

By the way, great speech, huh?

Anyway, we had some thunderstorms overnight, which resulted in a soggy seat this morning. That soggy seat, even with a towel over the wettest part, resulted in a wet butt after my drive to work. It was not a comfortable feeling.

Thankfully, I have a dehumidifier in my office. I turned that sucker on full blast and went to stand in front of it for a while. Eventually, I may have started to sort of straddle it a bit. It was working quite well. The only problem is that this dehumidifier is really loud, so I can't hear anyone approaching when it is turned on.

So it is natural to assume that I did not hear our director -- my boss -- approaching my office. I also did not hear him walk into my office where I was semi-straddling a very loud dehumidifier -- a dehumidifier purchased by the department, a purchase he approved.

He looked at me. I looked at him. I resumed my normal posture and attempted to explain.

"I left my driver's side window open last night, and my pants got wet this morning on my way to work, and..."

He just shrugged and walked away.

I get that a lot.

The biggest advantage of a commuter campus

2008-08-24T13:26:00.000-07:00

The university where I work is, for the most part, a commuter school. Sure, there are a couple of dorms and a couple of apartment complexes on campus, but the vast majority of students live off campus. Heck, the vast majority of students have full-time jobs. And lives.

At times I miss the atmosphere of a residential campus. However, I recently realized that residential campuses have one feature that really annoys me.

Swing dancers.

During my Truman years, walking through the common areas of my residence hall was always dangerous, as the swing dancers would be constantly practicing their moves in lounges and hallways. Do you know how many times I was almost kicked in the head while walking to my room? Does the actual number really matter? Isn't once more than enough?

But at my university, there are no swing dancers. Or, if there are, they stay well-hidden. And for that, I'm thankful.

Don't get me wrong, if swing dancing is your thing, great. More power to you. I'm sure it's fun. I'm sure it's great exercise. It's just that, at Truman, there wasn't much to do, so the really hardcore swing dancer types felt a need to practice constantly.

Okay, that's all, rant over.

Houses

2008-08-21T21:18:00.000-07:00

My realtor is going to be pissed.

He sent me a list of houses to consider -- I want to see nearly every one of them. I think a small tour of south city will be happening soon.

Yes, Al Roker called the ribbon his bitch.

2008-08-19T20:06:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Kelli over at South City Confidential for posting this. Awesome.

Blah.

2008-08-14T10:26:00.000-07:00

I met with my realtor to write a contract on a house today. When I arrived, I found out that the company selling the property had changed its mind when informed of what the closing costs would be. We needed an extra three percent, and they weren't willing to give it... Unless we went over list price.

I don't want to go over list price.

An investment company (the current owners) bought the house from a distressed owner for $19,000. If they were to give us the extra three percent, they would still have a profit of almost $34,000 after all is said and done. And this was a pretty nice house to begin with, so I'm not sure that the investment company put that much work into it.

Oh well -- the longer that house sits, and the longer it takes for that company to sell it, the more it will cost them.

It's been a while...

2008-08-10T18:38:00.001-07:00

It's been a while since I last posted. Not a lot has happened, I guess, but something big has occurred.

I'm about to put a contract on my first home. It's got two bedrooms, one bath, and is in a lovely area of south city. I had been inside the house a couple times already with my realtor, and then today, my mother got to see the inside. Because, just like any home has to have its value appraised, the buyer's mother (if the buyer is a 28 year old youngest child of four and the first of his siblings to buy a house) must assess the property as well. I call it the appeasal, since her opinion of it really doesn't have all that much bearing, but it does make things easier.

After showing mom the house tonight, I stuck around and talked to the neighbors. Because, you know, when buying a house, it's always good to chat with the neighbors, as they will give you an honest assessment of the neighborhood.

The neighbors are all really nice. One even offered to "accidentally" run over the for sale sign in the yard so no one else buys it before I submit my contract.

Conflict Resolution

2008-08-01T07:31:00.000-07:00

I wrote a kind of long blog entry about a conflict I recently resolved. However, since it is about my professional life, you have to be my friend on facebook or myspace to read it, as I have posted it using the blog functions there.

If you're interested in reading it, contact me.

Basically, I wanted to write this entry, but I didn't want it to show up in the RFT.

OMG I am so blogging about that!

2008-07-18T16:17:00.001-07:00

Seriously, that has been my reaction to a handful of things lately. I'm kind of ashamed to admit it. I've become one of those people whose first instinct is to blog when provoked.

In other news, I'm thinking of buying something large and expensive -- a house. Not right this instant, but in the not-too-distant future. When I do buy a house, I will be the first of my siblings to have a mortgage. See, my brother lives with our mom (a mutually beneficial relationship), one sister rents, and another sister has a sweet housing situation created by a generous in-law.

I could live with mom, but then again, I couldn't. It's too much of a commute to work -- an hour each way. And the cost of gas is ridiculous.

My commute to work now takes 35 minutes, tops, and that's if I ride from the Shrewsbury Metrolink station. Most days, I ride from the Delmar station, which is only about three miles from my apartment. And it reduces my drive by about 75%.

In other news, work is work. And I will be the only one at work on Monday morning. No, it's not a holiday of any sort. It's just that everyone else is either on vacation or off campus for various meetings. Including the director's secretary, who answers the main phone line. So I will be covering the phone for her Monday morning.

I'm planning on putting a sign on the door to the main office that says, "Bob is the only one here this morning - please adjust your expectations accordingly."

Seriously, I'm a terrible secretary. That's why I don't fill in much. Some people are still missing some tooth enamel from the last time I filled in for her and had to make the morning pot of coffee.

I had no idea 15 scoops was too many.

Oh. My. God.

2008-07-11T15:05:00.000-07:00

Or their God, depending on your belief system.

Click here, and be sure to watch the video.

Desiccant Part Deux

2008-07-11T13:49:00.001-07:00

A few folks saw this post yesterday and liked it. One even suggested putting an ad on Craigslist.

So that's exactly what I did.

It started out as an ad in the "wanted" section, and consisted of me asking (in a manner very similar to the entry I wrote yesterday) for lots of silica gel packets.

Apparently the "wanted" section only applies to things that particular community things people actually want. Several jackasses flagged my post and it was taken down by nine this morning.

Then I thought, "hey, this can't be any worse than most of the personal ads on there..."

So that's where I put it. And as of this afternoon, I've had a surprisingly high number of responses... But still no desiccant.

Hrmph.

I Need a Desiccant.

2008-07-10T12:55:00.000-07:00

My office is humid. My air conditioning unit works, but it's still humid in here. This is problematic because I keep lots of envelopes in my office. I'm talking thousands of envelopes. In fact, I just looked, and I have about 20,000 envelopes in my office at this very moment.

When I assembled a mass mailing today, I had some issues with my equipment because the humidity had made my envelopes a bit puffy. I already put in a work order to have my air conditioning unit looked at (because, in theory, it's supposed to pull the moisture from the air), but until that happens (my guess is that it will either happen tomorrow or January, but not anytime in between those two dates) I've been thinking of ways to remove the moisture from the air.

My first inclination was a dehumidifier. That would probably work just fine, and would be a very reasonable solution. It is also a very boring solution. So then I thought, "hey, what about those tiny silica gel packets you find in shoe boxes?"

I mean, I can visualize my office as being just one large shoe box. In fact, the dimensions are quite similar to those of a shoe box. Minus the windows, of course... Anyway, I decided to do some math.

If the formula to find the volume of a rectangular prism (such as my office, which is kind of big) is as follows:

side 1 x side 2 x side 3

that would be 12 (width) x 22 (length) x 11 (height) = 2904 cubic feet. If 2.4 average shoe boxes occupy one cubic foot of space, then I would need 6969 shoe boxes.

And logic would dictate that I would need one silica gel packet for each shoe box, or 2.4 for each cubic foot, I would need the same number of silica gel packets to get rid of the humidity in my office. Or at least to bring it down to the level of the average shoe box.

So, who wants to go try on shoes with me tonight? I need about 7,000 silica gel packets.

Random List #1

2008-07-09T07:43:00.000-07:00

Things that remind me of flea markets:

- Novelty cell phone face plates.
- Slightly irregular tube socks.
- Any article of clothing that has been airbrushed.
- Desperation
- Toys with unsafe amounts of lead that will break within a week
- NASCAR memorabilia
- Decorative knives and swords
- Confederate flags
- Second-hand junk by the conversion van-load
- Brooks and Dunn fans
- Electronics of questionable origin
- Haggling
- My mother

Taking Stock

2008-07-06T00:24:00.000-07:00

Went to a barbecue tonight. It was both delicious and enlightening, as I found myself sitting in a good friend's backyard until nearly two in the morning discussing lots of things that can only be summed up as "life."

The discussion gave me a chance to stop and take stock of things. I've got a handful of really great friends, that's for sure. Those are the ones who are easy to spot - they call you to see how you're doing. They e-mail if they haven't heard from you in a while. They invite you to do things. They acknowledge that friendship is a two-way exchange.

Sure, there are some peripheral friends (it sounds better than acquaintance) too, and they're alright, I guess, so long as the understanding exists that they are peripheral friends and not a lot more. They can become real friends, but it takes time.

Then there is the disappointment of discovering those who you thought were your really good friends were only peripheral friends. Or, even worse, not friends at all. They're the ones who don't return calls or e-mails. They don't make much of an effort to spend time with you. They can't be bothered to listen to you complain about a bad day (even if you've done the same for them countless times.) To them, your friendship is one of convenience. They're your friend only when it's convenient for their lives.

And while the last group is very disappointing, they have certainly been beneficial for me. After all, they make me appreciate my real friends that much more.

Jim Edmonds' Return to The Lou

2008-07-04T20:18:00.000-07:00

So Jim Edmonds is back in St. Louis this weekend, but he's wearing blue.

After all, he IS a Cub now.

Bernie Miklasz says we should treat his return with indifference - don't boo him because that will be some sort of backhanded tribute to him. But don't cheer him either, because that would be (gasp!) akin to fraternizing with the enemy! We can't have Cardinals fans applauding Cubs players!

I disagree.

Jim Edmonds spent his best years with the birds on his chest. But, toward the end of his time on the Cardinals' roster, he wasn't the same player he was when he first set foot in St. Louis. His option for this season was as follows: be a part-time player in St. Louis or be a full-time player somewhere else. It's that simple.

And as for the quotes cited in Miklasz's column, of course Edmonds wants the Chicago media to put his time with the Cardinals in the past. That's exactly where it is. Jim Edmonds is on the Chicago Cubs' roster now. His job is to be a Cub. He's focused on the present and the future. I mean, let's be honest - Jimmy Baseball knows what it's like to be on a winning team, and right now, he's on the best team in the National League. He's no fool. He's merely focused on doing his job - helping the Cubs play past September. And frankly, I'm happy for Edmonds. He is happy to be a Cub because he's playing baseball. The Cardinals have a very crowded - and, with the exception of Chris Duncan, talented - outfield this year. If he remained in a Cardinals uniform this year, he would not be starting every day.

And another thing, if you're ever at a Cardinals game, you may notice that when a former Cardinal steps to the plate for the opposing team, they are announced as such. Just this week, I attended three games, and this was the case at each one. Sure, the Cubs and Cardinals are arch-rivals, but is this any reason to be disrespectful?

I say go ahead and applaud Jim Edmonds when he steps to the plate in a Cubs uniform. Applaud him for the memories he helped create. Applaud him for being a down-to-earth player (i.e., the anti-Barry Bonds) and appreciate the fact that he's doing one hell of a job on what is shaping up to be an excellent Cubs team (for now.)

Besides, Cardinal Nation isn't about hating the Cubs. Cardinal Nation actually doesn't hate the Cubs. Cardinal Nation loves the Cardinals AND the game of baseball, but never, ever hates.

Kudos to those of you who stood up and applauded Jimmy Baseball. And for those of you who booed him or turned your backs on him because of his team, shame on you.

Normally, this is where I'd end this post, but while writing it, I e-mailed Bernie Miklasz my thoughts on the matter, and he replied within two minutes to say:

Thanks, Bob.
Appreciate the note.
No one would have made a big deal if Edmonds had returned in another uniform (not Cubs).
For the last quarter century, Cardinals fans kept telling me how much they hate the Cubs.
As it turned out, it was a lot of posturing. And that's swell with me.
Thank you, sir...

Bernie

I think true Cardinals fans don't need to posture like that.

Where The Hell Is Matt?

2008-07-02T09:55:00.000-07:00

This guy danced in 42 countries. This video took 14 months to make.

For more info, click here.

Discussion

2008-06-29T20:02:00.000-07:00

"A five dollar duck is three times lamer than a ten dollar cat."

Do you agree or disagree? Don't ask for context. Just explain why you agree or why you disagree.

Why Mike Shannon irritates me...

2008-06-29T12:18:00.000-07:00

He spent an inning and a half bitching about sunglasses, and how baseball players today apparently don't wear the right kind. He acted like wearing the wrong sunglasses on the field is a crime worthy of facing an international tribunal. And how most players today (I'm surprised he didn't refer to them as whipper-snappers) wouldn't even know what kind of glasses are the proper kind.

Seriously, Mike, drink another beer. Because you can't talk while you're drinking beer.

Also, KSDK, please stop putting Jay Randolph and Mike Shannon on the air together. I want my announcers to have a combined age of less than 140 years old.

Skeletons in the Palace

2008-06-28T08:21:00.001-07:00

A colleague of mine - an archaeologist - is currently on sabbatical in Greece, where he is doing some major archaeological digging, with the help of a couple teams of students. The dig site is an ancient palace.

This week, he found a human skull.

This is a big thing for an archaeologist. Really big.

I went to the Hallmark store to look for a "congratulations on your grisly discovery" card, but they were fresh out, so I e-mailed him a nice note instead, wishing him lots of luck in digging up other skeletal remains at the site.

Seriously. This is pretty cool. And it has the potential to be really big.

Pope says what?

2008-06-24T14:03:00.000-07:00

When I was 18 and Catholic, I joined the Knights of Columbus to appease my dad, who was a state officer. Let me tell you, it's a LOT easier to get into the Knights of Columbus than it is to get out. I went to one meeting in the past decade, and I'm probably at least three or four years past due with my annual membership fees. Even though I told the Grand Knight (the leader of my local council) several times I no longer wished to be a part of the organization (his response was usually, "aw, you don't really mean that...") I'm pretty sure I'm still officially on the organization's membership roster. After all, I do still receive their monthly magazine, Columbia, which almost always has a picture of the Pope on the cover.

In fact, receiving that magazine is really quite alright with me, as the pictures of the Pope they choose for the cover are usually very funny.

A great example is the February 2008 issue. This was the cover:

I took this cover, cut it out, mounted it on some cardboard, and affixed it to the door of my office, along with a speech balloon that says, "If you're infallible and you know it, raise your hands!"

This isn't the first time I have displayed a funny Pope picture in my office. For a couple of years, I had a Pope-on-a-stick that I would pull out from one of my desk drawers when a particular situation called for such professionalism. It was made from this cover:

That Pope-on-a-stick now has a permanent home, peeping out from behind a file cabinet in my office. He keeps an eye on things for me.

Anyway, my point is this - I need some more phrases for my new Pope cut-out. Here's what I have so far:

- "If you're infallible and you know it, raise your hands!"
- "Wave your hands in the air like you just don't care..."
- "I love the Vatican City beach volleyball league!"
- "ALTUS QUINQUE!!!" (Latin for "high five")

What do you think the Pope should say?

Wikipedia

2008-06-23T11:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, we all know that Wikipedia is not considered a credible source of information. And that is why the existence of this particular Wikipedia article amuses me.

A post about why Claire Maryniak is awesome...

2008-06-22T20:42:00.000-07:00

That's right, Claire. You get your own post.

When I was feeling down about something tonight, Claire listened to me while I talked about it, and then did the best thing she could think of at that moment.

She told me to watch this video.

:)

Finally, statistics we can use!

2008-06-19T08:25:00.000-07:00

Let's say you've got a thing for sugary carbonated beverages. Let's also assume you do a lot of traveling. Maybe you're nomadic. Anyway, you're thirsty, and you know exactly what you want, but the locals don't understand what you're asking for.

Thankfully, someone has created a soda vs. pop map. Some places call the stuff soda (the correct name, thank you very much), others call it pop. Some places (mostly in the south) just call everything "Coke." Then there's a category for "other."

My question: those people who responded "other" - what do they call the stuff?

27 Seconds with David Sedaris

2008-06-18T08:07:00.001-07:00

Last night I met David Sedaris. A week ago, I bought a copy of his new book, When You Are Engulfed in Flames at Left Bank Books. At the time, I was given a ticket to come have it signed by the author himself. After not feeling well yesterday morning, I decided I wasn't going to subject myself to the throngs of people at the reading, which began at seven. No, instead, I decided to go down a bit before ten and catch the end of the line.

I was the last person in line for a few minutes before a random guy in a suit showed up.

"Why are you standing in line for a signature?" he asked, condescendingly.

"Because I bought the book, was given a ticket to get my book signed by the author, and that's what I plan to do," I said.

"Oh, I'm just here getting the book signed for a friend of mine who seems to like him," he said, answering a question that had not been asked. He stood in line for another ten minutes before leaving, and being replaced by a very nice couple named James and Jenny (I think), and a guy who was using a Hipster PDA.

I ended up waiting in line for two hours to get 27 seconds of face time with Sedaris, who was very polite and gracious to everyone, even the obnoxious woman who pointed out that she hadn't heard of him, but was there to get his book signed for her son, who told her he was a very funny writer. She then proceeded to tell him a really bad joke. While the rest of us cringed at the awkwardness of the situation, Sedaris was very gracious about it, and even laughed politely before thanking the woman for buying his book and sending her on her way.

When I left that evening, my book had nine more words in it:

"To Bob, I'm so happy you're alive.
- David Sedaris."

Book Review: Historic Photos of St. Louis

2008-06-17T14:47:00.000-07:00

Recently, a publisher contacted me with an offer: get a free copy of our book for reviewing it on your blog.

They sent the book, so now I'm (finally) holding up my end of the deal.

Historic Photos of St. Louis by Adele Heagney and Jean Gosebrink is much cooler than I thought it would be. Honestly, I went into it thinking, "oh boy, a book of old photos of St. Louis. At least it will help me get to sleep at night..."

I couldn't be more wrong. While a lot of books of this nature tend to have a very narrow focus, this book gives an excellent overview of St. Louis over the course of a century -- from the 1860s to the 1960s. Personally, this book gave me a different perspective of our area. I mean, let's face it -- I was born in 1979, after the population of St. Louis had gone from 856,000 at its peak in 1950, to 452,000 at the time of my birth, to its most recent level of 348,000 in 2000. While I had always been told by my elders that St. Louis used to be a much more densely populated area -- bustling, even -- it was hard for me to visualize much more than the run-down neighborhoods I saw in my youth. Note that I only saw them -- I didn't go to St. Louis much, since I grew up in Pacific, a direct result of my maternal grandparents relocation to the small town when, in the 1950s, Alton Box built the factory where my grandfather worked.

Historic Photos of St. Louis is arranged chronologically, which I found very helpful, as I have always been somewhat fascinated by the St. Louis of my mother's childhood, where streetcars could take you anywhere you wanted to go, where people walked everywhere, and where the Cardinals played on North Grand. I had only seen remnants of that St. Louis -- most prominently when visiting my mother's aunts, who lived in a brick, two-family flat (Aunt Aggie on top, Aunt Regina on the bottom) that had some old streetcar tracks in the adjacent alley. Sadly, over time, that neighborhood deteriorated, and after Aunt Regina died, it was sold, and Aunt Aggie moved in with her daughter. This book has reunited me not only with the period of time represented (in my mind) by that old brick house in South St. Louis, but with views of the entire region from its golden age.

While providing a glimpse of St. Louis in its prime, this book also gives the reader a better understanding of the impact of a national trend -- urban sprawl -- on our fair city. And, rather than presenting the reader with opinions on the effect of urban sprawl on St. Louis, it simply presents facts about the images, and allows the reader to string these facts together into his or her own opinion of what has become of a once-great urban area.

All things considered...

2008-06-15T19:57:00.001-07:00

...It was a good weekend.

I went to the Cardinals game today, where I watched the bullpen walk in two runs. I also watched Yadier Molina get carried off the field on a stretcher. When he went down, the stadium got so quiet, we could hear the sirens of the ambulance that took him to the hospital as it approached the stadium. As of now, it sounds like it's just a concussion, though, so that's good. Dude got plowed.

Anyway, it was a nice day for a game. Plus, the Cardinals took some time before today's game to honor Marty Hendin, who passed away in January. To honor Marty, the Cardinals issued all fans a "Marty Pass" -- a voucher for a free ticket to another home game.

Even though I only met Mr. Hendin a couple of times, I feel very comfortable saying that this is exactly what he would want the Cardinals to do.

Happy Birthday, DL!

2008-06-12T20:55:00.001-07:00

The Drinking Liberally group in St. Louis proper (the city folk) celebrated its first birthday at the Royale tonight.

Cake and beer were had by all. Oh, and a good time, too.

At tonight's gathering, I was asked if I ever made any contributions over at a local progressive political blog. My answer is no. Here's my explanation, to anyone who is interested:

There's nothing I could say about politics that someone else hasn't already said more eloquently and concisely.

That's all. Deal with it. :)

Now at your local farmers market...

2008-06-11T18:55:00.001-07:00

Meet a black guy!

Boat Cougars!!!

2008-06-11T12:44:00.001-07:00

There is a certain subset of the population that has always intrigued me. These individuals are trashy, loud, and far too irresponsible for someone in their age bracket. Unfortunately, a catchy name for this group has always eluded me.

Jeffrey Rowland (web comic artist supreme) has come up with a name for this group. I am speaking, of course, about Boat Cougars.

Be sure to read what Rowland wrote underneath the comic for a better understanding of these enigmatic beasts.

My (wide) brush with power

2008-06-10T13:24:00.001-07:00

I got stuck in traffic behind Barack Obama's motorcade this morning. It was kind of exciting.

Pork and Beans

2008-06-04T06:27:00.000-07:00

The video for Weezer's new song Pork and Beans is on Youtube, and, fittingly enough, stars many familiar Youtube faces.

A-B Takeover

2008-06-02T22:24:00.001-07:00

This will probably come as no surprise to you, but I'm a bit of a beer snob. And, as such, I think A-B products suck.

I mean, come on -- just look at their lineup:

http://www.anheuser-busch.com/BeerVerified.html

The only products really worth drinking are Red Hook ESB, Hoegaarden, and maybe a couple of other imports. For the most part, though, the rest is pisswater -- ESPECIALLY Bud Light. I also take issue with the entire "Specialty Malt Beverages" section of the aforementioned website.

Either way, economically speaking, the time is right for a takeover, from InBev's point of view. The dollar is weak, and since the Busch family owns only about 4% of A-B stock, they can't really do anything to stop a takeover (even if they wanted to, and I’m not certain they really do.) Neither can Berkshire Hathaway, which owns another 6%, and is the majority shareholder (and is in it only to make a profit, not to save one of the last American mega-corporations) so it would be illogical for BH to stand in the way of a takeover.

A couple in Florida started this website to save Budweiser. What they don't seem to realize, though, is that their crusade is, for the most part, useless. I'm really not trying to be a cynic. I'm just being realistic.

And the reality of the situation is that if you don't own stock in Anheuser-Busch Companies, you don't have a say in the matter. And even if you do, you still may not.

It will come down to the tons of A-B employees and retirees who own lots of stock, and with the way the economy is right now, $65 a share for a stock that is, at best, only worth $49 may look really appealing. Of course, there's also the issue of the capital gains taxes that many of those shareholders will have to consider. If they sold, they'd have to pay a LOT of money to Uncle Sam for the transaction. Plus, I'm guessing a lot of them would be much too proud and loyal to sell. But another factor is this: what percentage of shareholders are A-B loyalists (such as employees, retirees, and local shareholders), and how many are strictly investors? If the board of directors rejected a $65 per share buyout offer, and if the investors outnumber the emotional shareholders, surely the elected board members would lose their jobs, as this is a takeover that, for the most part, makes good business sense… But that doesn’t mean I’d like to see it happen.

Let’s think about what a potential takeover would do to St. Louis. The A-B brands would not go away. They have far too much brand recognition for that to be an option. Your bottle of weak-ass Bud Light won’t change. However, the people making it will. As with any large takeover, the first thing to happen will be a trimming of the corporate fat. And where is much of that corporate fat located? One Busch Place, St. Louis, MO 63118.

You can pretty much say goodbye to a lot of the A-B business units (like Manufacturers Railway Co., Metal Container Corp., A-B Recycling, St. Louis Refrigerated Car Co., Precision Printing and Packaging, Inc., Eagle Packaging, Busch Entertainment Corp., and Busch Properties, Inc.) as these would need to be eliminated entirely (in favor of the same products and services from cheaper contractors) or sold outright to generate some capital for a partial repayment of the $50 billion loan InBev is seeking for the takeover. Those A-B employees who do things like provide security at the brewery can easily be outsourced to Whelan, Securitas, or Wackenhut – and probably for a fraction of the price. Really, the only people whose jobs *might* be safe are those who actually brew the beer.

Basically, it would be an economic disaster for St. Louis. And we’ve had plenty of those in the last 20 years. TWA. May Department Stores Company. Ford. A.G. Edwards. Do I need to go on?

If A-B truly wants to avoid a takeover, they need to look south -- buy up another 50% or so of Modelo in Mexico. That will add an additional $15 billion to the takeover price, and possibly put it out of reach for InBev. Additionally, InBev expressed interest in SAB/Miller last week, which would cost about $23 billion for the merger. That looks like a plan B to me. But that doesn't mean Plan A is off the table.

But we can hope, right?