Go-Gos
Bangles
Katrina and the Waves
Toni Basil
Friday, July 25, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Paul Simon Was Wrong
Not everything looks worse in black and white.
(For those who don't get the reference, watch the video, listen to the video, and look at the new blog template.)
So of course they switch up the song lyrics in that one. Here's the original song put to a bunch of images.
And just because
(For those who don't get the reference, watch the video, listen to the video, and look at the new blog template.)
So of course they switch up the song lyrics in that one. Here's the original song put to a bunch of images.
And just because
Saturday, July 12, 2008
True Car Conversations Two and Three
A little bit of background. Ethan takes a backpack with some toys in it whenever we get in the car. As much as he likes talking with me on our daily drives (30 miles to work, 30 miles home again), he also likes playing with his action figures. He talks as he plays, carrying on conversations between the toys.
So we're driving along, and from the back seat I hear
Ethan: You're trapped, Count Dooku. Drop your light saber!
Me: Cool - you caught Count Dooku.
Ethan: (Pause, then exasperatedly) I'm trying to play here.
Me: Sorry.
Some more background. The word hell has creeped into Ethan's vocabulary. I know that this is more than partly my fault as a parent. Not that I use the word around him, but I allow him to watch movies, play PS2 games, and watch tv shows that use the word. We've spoken about it, and I've tried to tell him how some words are good words, some words are bad words, some words are fine to use when you're older, and some words are fine to use when no one can hear you use them. He gets the basic concept - he's an incredibly smart boy - but sometimes things like the following happen.
Ethan: (Playing in the back seat, while acting out a battle between action figures.) What the hell?
Me: Dude!
Ethan: ... Sorry.
Side Note One: I use the word dude way too much for someone in his late 40s.
Side Note Two: There is something incredibly inherently funny about a five-year old saying "What the hell?"
Side Note Three: Side Note trademarked by Side Notes.
So we're driving along, and from the back seat I hear
Ethan: You're trapped, Count Dooku. Drop your light saber!
Me: Cool - you caught Count Dooku.
Ethan: (Pause, then exasperatedly) I'm trying to play here.
Me: Sorry.
Some more background. The word hell has creeped into Ethan's vocabulary. I know that this is more than partly my fault as a parent. Not that I use the word around him, but I allow him to watch movies, play PS2 games, and watch tv shows that use the word. We've spoken about it, and I've tried to tell him how some words are good words, some words are bad words, some words are fine to use when you're older, and some words are fine to use when no one can hear you use them. He gets the basic concept - he's an incredibly smart boy - but sometimes things like the following happen.
Ethan: (Playing in the back seat, while acting out a battle between action figures.) What the hell?
Me: Dude!
Ethan: ... Sorry.
Side Note One: I use the word dude way too much for someone in his late 40s.
Side Note Two: There is something incredibly inherently funny about a five-year old saying "What the hell?"
Side Note Three: Side Note trademarked by Side Notes.
Customer Service At Its Finest
On the last full day Drew was here, Thursday June 12th, I went out to McDonald's at the outlet mall to get breakfast. Now, this isn't the best staffed McDonald's you can find - it's incredibly busy, and the local staffing options are the elderly and high schoolers. Still, it wasn't a busy morning, so I didn't double-check the sack after getting the food, opting instead to just drive home.
Of course, this means I didn't get the complete order. Fortunately, the food for the boys was there, but mine wasn't. So I drove back out, went inside, and asked for the food I wasn't given. They had realized I hadn't gotten my food, so I didn't have to prove it. As the clerk was putting together my order, she asked the manager on duty if she could give me a complimentary meal card.
The manager said no.
The clerk stared at her, then asked again. "This guy had to come back to get food we didn't give him. Can't we get him a meal card?"
The manager said no. "But I'll go get a coupon for a sandwich." And with that, she walked to the back.
Now, I hadn't gone in there with the intention of getting something to recompense me for my troubles. I just wanted my breakfast. And if no one had said anything, I would have walked in and out without comment. But the fact that the manager vocally didn't want to give me anything, then had to be talked into giving me a sandwich, was, well, kind of insulting. I worked in restaurants for almost fifteen years, over five of those in management. If you feel your actions have negatively impacted the customer to the point you think you should comp the customer something, you comp them something at least of equal value to what they ordered.
I waited for the manager to come back, ready to tell her that her offer of a sandwich was insulting, but before I could get that far she said "Here's a meal coupon." So I took it, glanced at it, thanked her, and went home.
I took the coupon to work, thinking I would use it for lunch some time. I had seen a date on it, but didn't look closely enough to see what the expiration date. I figured it was good for at least a month, if not a year. I had looked closely enough to see it was good at any O'Brien's McDonald's, the franchisee in the Iowa City area.
Jump forward a couple of weeks. McDonald's is sounding good for lunch, so I pick up the coupon and get ready to go. For the first time since I got it, I look at the date.
06/12/08
Remember the date I mentioned above, the date this happened? Thursday, June 12th? June 12th, 2008? In other words, 06/12/08?
I checked the date on the coupon again, thinking that couldn't possibly be right.
06/12/08
They gave me a coupon that expired that day.
I looked it over, thinking that had to be a mistake. Thinking there must be something on the coupon saying "Valid for 30/60/365 days after the date on this card."
But no.
The expiration date was that day. THAT DAY!
Customer service at its finest.
Of course, this means I didn't get the complete order. Fortunately, the food for the boys was there, but mine wasn't. So I drove back out, went inside, and asked for the food I wasn't given. They had realized I hadn't gotten my food, so I didn't have to prove it. As the clerk was putting together my order, she asked the manager on duty if she could give me a complimentary meal card.
The manager said no.
The clerk stared at her, then asked again. "This guy had to come back to get food we didn't give him. Can't we get him a meal card?"
The manager said no. "But I'll go get a coupon for a sandwich." And with that, she walked to the back.
Now, I hadn't gone in there with the intention of getting something to recompense me for my troubles. I just wanted my breakfast. And if no one had said anything, I would have walked in and out without comment. But the fact that the manager vocally didn't want to give me anything, then had to be talked into giving me a sandwich, was, well, kind of insulting. I worked in restaurants for almost fifteen years, over five of those in management. If you feel your actions have negatively impacted the customer to the point you think you should comp the customer something, you comp them something at least of equal value to what they ordered.
I waited for the manager to come back, ready to tell her that her offer of a sandwich was insulting, but before I could get that far she said "Here's a meal coupon." So I took it, glanced at it, thanked her, and went home.
I took the coupon to work, thinking I would use it for lunch some time. I had seen a date on it, but didn't look closely enough to see what the expiration date. I figured it was good for at least a month, if not a year. I had looked closely enough to see it was good at any O'Brien's McDonald's, the franchisee in the Iowa City area.
Jump forward a couple of weeks. McDonald's is sounding good for lunch, so I pick up the coupon and get ready to go. For the first time since I got it, I look at the date.
06/12/08
Remember the date I mentioned above, the date this happened? Thursday, June 12th? June 12th, 2008? In other words, 06/12/08?
I checked the date on the coupon again, thinking that couldn't possibly be right.
06/12/08
They gave me a coupon that expired that day.
I looked it over, thinking that had to be a mistake. Thinking there must be something on the coupon saying "Valid for 30/60/365 days after the date on this card."
But no.
The expiration date was that day. THAT DAY!
Customer service at its finest.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
An Eventful Week Part II
The first sign that there might be trouble came Thursday afternoon, when reports started circulating that the Iowa Department of Transportation planned on closing I-80 at the Atalissa and Tipton exits Friday night at 7:00 pm. At that point I realized I would probably need to be moving out Friday afternoon instead of Saturday morning. Still, I could leave home as late as 5:00 in the afternoon and still clear those exits by 7:00 pm. My mother suggested that I take the boys right then and go down and stay with an aunt and uncle on the east side of the closure. I briefly considered it, but decided to wait.
I woke up Friday morning to discover that the DOT had closed I-80 earlier than expected. Indeed, they jumped the closure from Friday evening to late Thursday. I started looking at maps, trying to figure out how to go east. It seemed pretty simple. Head up to Cedar Rapids, then take Highway 30 east to Tipton, then back south to I-80. I needed to make arrangements to board the dogs, and started making calls. By the time I found a place to board them, not only was Highway 30 closed, but pretty much every bridge and road north of I-80 that went east was closed. On top of that, I-380 in Cedar Rapids was one-lane only, and there was talk that both I-380 and Highway 965 were about to be closed between I-80 and Cedar Rapids. My only option to the north was heading west, then heading north to Highway 20, then east to Dubuque, then south to I-80, then on to Chicago. Not a very attractive path.
So I started looking south. Highway 92 was already closed going east, but that still left Highway 6 and Highway 22. I got the boys dressed, then set off for Victor where I was boarding the dogs. By the time I got home, less than an hour later, Highway 6 was closed. Highway 22 was still open, though. If that closed, my only option would be driving down to Mt. Pleasant, taking Highway 34 across the river at Burlington and over to Galesburg, and then taking I-70 up to I-80.
We set off about 2:00. Before we leave I double-check to make sure Highway 22 is still open. It is. By the time we reach Highway 22, about 40 minutes later, it’s closed. We set off for Mt. Pleasant, hoping Highway 34 is still open. It is, and the rest of the trip is uneventful, except of course for hitting I-55 into Chicago right about 6:00 p.m., just when traffic starts to go back into the city. It took about an hour to travel the 30-some miles between I-80 and the Harlem exit, and then another 30 minutes or so to get to the hotel.
The next day was busy – turn in the first rental car, get a new rental car, escort Drew to his flight, go to the BMW dealership and take care of things with the old car, then drive back home following the same route. We dropped the rental off at Budget, got a lift home from a friend (thanks Brian!), then settled in and watched flood coverage.
So that was my week. It cost me a car, it cost me over a $1,000 out of pocket (rental car, hotel, gas, diagnosis of car problems, towing fee), and I still consider myself fortunate compared to the many, many people in the area who lost a lot more. A friend, someone I’ve worked with for close to a decade, owns a house in one of the worst-affected areas of Iowa City. I spent an afternoon helping him clean-up - tearing out carpet, tearing down drywall, hauling out trash. It was horrible to see the damage caused by the flood up close. And he was one of the lucky ones. He was about four rows of houses away from the river, and though he is looking at tens of thousands of dollars worth of damages, he could conceivably rebuild if he needs to do so. There are many others in far worse shape. I got to leave it behind at the end of the day, but those affected can never leave it behind. It’s always with them.
I woke up Friday morning to discover that the DOT had closed I-80 earlier than expected. Indeed, they jumped the closure from Friday evening to late Thursday. I started looking at maps, trying to figure out how to go east. It seemed pretty simple. Head up to Cedar Rapids, then take Highway 30 east to Tipton, then back south to I-80. I needed to make arrangements to board the dogs, and started making calls. By the time I found a place to board them, not only was Highway 30 closed, but pretty much every bridge and road north of I-80 that went east was closed. On top of that, I-380 in Cedar Rapids was one-lane only, and there was talk that both I-380 and Highway 965 were about to be closed between I-80 and Cedar Rapids. My only option to the north was heading west, then heading north to Highway 20, then east to Dubuque, then south to I-80, then on to Chicago. Not a very attractive path.
So I started looking south. Highway 92 was already closed going east, but that still left Highway 6 and Highway 22. I got the boys dressed, then set off for Victor where I was boarding the dogs. By the time I got home, less than an hour later, Highway 6 was closed. Highway 22 was still open, though. If that closed, my only option would be driving down to Mt. Pleasant, taking Highway 34 across the river at Burlington and over to Galesburg, and then taking I-70 up to I-80.
We set off about 2:00. Before we leave I double-check to make sure Highway 22 is still open. It is. By the time we reach Highway 22, about 40 minutes later, it’s closed. We set off for Mt. Pleasant, hoping Highway 34 is still open. It is, and the rest of the trip is uneventful, except of course for hitting I-55 into Chicago right about 6:00 p.m., just when traffic starts to go back into the city. It took about an hour to travel the 30-some miles between I-80 and the Harlem exit, and then another 30 minutes or so to get to the hotel.
The next day was busy – turn in the first rental car, get a new rental car, escort Drew to his flight, go to the BMW dealership and take care of things with the old car, then drive back home following the same route. We dropped the rental off at Budget, got a lift home from a friend (thanks Brian!), then settled in and watched flood coverage.
So that was my week. It cost me a car, it cost me over a $1,000 out of pocket (rental car, hotel, gas, diagnosis of car problems, towing fee), and I still consider myself fortunate compared to the many, many people in the area who lost a lot more. A friend, someone I’ve worked with for close to a decade, owns a house in one of the worst-affected areas of Iowa City. I spent an afternoon helping him clean-up - tearing out carpet, tearing down drywall, hauling out trash. It was horrible to see the damage caused by the flood up close. And he was one of the lucky ones. He was about four rows of houses away from the river, and though he is looking at tens of thousands of dollars worth of damages, he could conceivably rebuild if he needs to do so. There are many others in far worse shape. I got to leave it behind at the end of the day, but those affected can never leave it behind. It’s always with them.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Someone Needs To Work On Their Sales Technique
From the Gazette
CORALVILLE — A Louisiana woman allegedly offered to perform a sex act on a man for $40 then struck him when he refused, according to police reports.
Dinora Santa Maria Wilson, 41, of Kenner, La., was charged with prostitution, an aggravated misdemeanor. She was taken to the Johnson County Jail and is held on a $5,000 cash bond. She faces up to two years in prison.
Wilson allegedly knocked on the man's door around 12:30 a.m. Saturday at the Motel 6, 810 First Ave., and offered to perform a sex act. When the man refused, Wilson allegedly said, "What are you, gay?" In the midst of an altercation, Wilson then struck the man in the face. Wilson appeared intoxicated, according to police reports.
Call me crazy, but if a drunk stranger knocks on my motel door at 12:30 in the morning, I don't open the door. I'm funny like that.
CORALVILLE — A Louisiana woman allegedly offered to perform a sex act on a man for $40 then struck him when he refused, according to police reports.
Dinora Santa Maria Wilson, 41, of Kenner, La., was charged with prostitution, an aggravated misdemeanor. She was taken to the Johnson County Jail and is held on a $5,000 cash bond. She faces up to two years in prison.
Wilson allegedly knocked on the man's door around 12:30 a.m. Saturday at the Motel 6, 810 First Ave., and offered to perform a sex act. When the man refused, Wilson allegedly said, "What are you, gay?" In the midst of an altercation, Wilson then struck the man in the face. Wilson appeared intoxicated, according to police reports.
Call me crazy, but if a drunk stranger knocks on my motel door at 12:30 in the morning, I don't open the door. I'm funny like that.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
True Car Conversations
Ethan: When I grow up, I want to be a doctor.
Me: That's a good career. You have to work hard at it, and go to school, but you are smart enough that if you want to be a doctor you can do it.
Ethan: I also want to be Spider-Man when I grow up.
Me: (Pause) That one's a bit tougher.
Me: That's a good career. You have to work hard at it, and go to school, but you are smart enough that if you want to be a doctor you can do it.
Ethan: I also want to be Spider-Man when I grow up.
Me: (Pause) That one's a bit tougher.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Odds and Ends
I've opened a Flickr account. I've set it to private, but I'm willing to invite anyone who visits here who wants an invite. Drop me an email if interested. In the meantime, enjoy this photo of my friend Ethan and me.
An Eventful Week Part I
All okay here on the flood front, in case anyone is wondering. I did have a rather eventful week the week the flooding hit the area, but it wasn't related to the weather. Let's just put it like this - I now have a new old car. A 2005, which is the closest I've been to the current model year since 1998, when the late, lamented Saturn was three years old.
Andrew came out for a week starting June 6th. It was between the end of school in Delaware and going to his father's in Oregon. He flew into Midway in Chicago on Southwest. Flying in and out of Midway is cheaper, even with the money spent on travel, than flying out of Cedar Rapids. So I drove in to Midway that Friday morning. The trip started without incident, but I got a speeding ticket shortly after entering Illinois. But from there to Midway things went well.
However, as I parked in the lowest level of the parking garage at Midway (that's where short-term parking is) it seemed like the engine was running hot. I popped the hood, and saw light coming out of the engine area. This is not how it is supposed to be.
I got out of the car, opening the hood fully, and spied the fire. Yes, fire. It was small - maybe the size of two fists, and it didn't seem like anything was on fire; rather that something had hit the engine block and started on fire - but as any mechanic will tell you, any fire on the engine block is a bad fire. I leaned in, blowing, finally putting the fire out. And yes, I realize this was probably not the smartest thing I've ever done.
I went to get Drew, and called my mechanic in Iowa while waiting for Drew's flight to arrive. My mechanic confirmed my impressions that a: I should not attempt to drive the car, and b: the cost of transporting the car to Iowa to get it looked at would be prohibitive. I got Drew, then called Lesa. She got the numbers for some car repair shops and dealerships in the Chicago area, finally settling on the BMW dealership in Orland Park. They recommended a towing service. I called both, making arrangements to have the car towed and subsequently diagnosed. I then went to secure a rental car.
I got a car at Budget in Midway. This was not without complications; they told me there was no Budget drop off in Iowa City, which I knew for a fact wasn't true, because I've gotten vehicles from them before. In fact, it was my satisfaction with the service at Budget in Iowa City that made me go to the Budget counter in the first place. Nonetheless, for some reason, it was not in the system. My only choice was to get a car I could drop off in Des Moines or get a car to bring back to Midway. Since I would need to get back to Midway the following weekend so Drew could fly out to Oregon, I decided to go that route. Besides, at that point I was still hoping I would have a BMW to drive home on the return trip.
Meanwhile, we needed to wait for the tow truck to arrive before we went to pick up the rental. When the tow truck finally got there, he couldn't get into the parking garage. As a result, I needed to drive my car out of the parking garage to where the tow truck was parked by the departure drop offs. I wasn't particularly thrilled to be driving a car that had previously been on fire, but it worked out. The driver got the car hooked up, I paid the $200 towing charge, and Drew and I went to get the rental car.
We got to the Budget lot and found out they had given our car to someone else because we hadn't gotten there right away. This despite the fact that I had told the person at the rental counter that we wouldn't be going right over to get the car. We ended up waiting another hour there til they had a car for us. It was a Cadillac, though. A very nice car. I was assured that there wouldn't be any extra charge, and we were off. We got back home around 11:00, about five hours later than I had hoped to return when I set off that morning.
I'll leave out the fun aspects of Drew being here. Suffice it to say, it was great that he was able to be here for a week.
Even if Ethan was sick for three days of that week.
Anyway, on Tuesday I get the call from BMW of Orland Park. There's $4,000 worth of repairs, and that's just fixing the stuff the fire damaged. Finding what exactly caused the fire, and how to repair that, would be more. And that doesn't even touch the $1,000 in repairs the car needed before I drove to Chicago. (Nothing that was urgent, but things that needed to be taken care of in the next year or so.)
The car cost me $6,000.
Needless to say, it didn't seem to make much sense to drop $4,000 plus into it. The repair agent I spoke to, after I said not to fix it, told me that if I had said to fix it, he was prepared to try to talk me out of it.
But that left me needing a car. I went out to the local Ford dealer. As much as I loved the BMWs, I wasn't prepared to get another car that was more than a decade old, which was the only way I could get another BMW. I found a nice Mercury Sable wagon that had been traded in just the previous week. 2005, low mileage, decent miles per gallon. The price was okay too. I got a quote, then went to the bank. Fortunately, the bank was willing to write a new loan high enough to pay off the previous loan and get the new used car. So that was taken care of.
I still needed to dispose of the old car. I got that taken care of by donating it to charity. They would go to the dealer, pick it up, tow it away, and auction it, all at no cost to me. That's two headaches down.
The final headache was getting the rental car and Drew back to Midway, then getting a new rental that I could drop off in Iowa City. I stopped in the Budget location in Iowa City, and was assured that, no matter what I was told in Midway, I could drop off a car there. They said I might have to rent the car to be dropped off at Des Moines, but even if I did, I could drop it off in Iowa City.
So that just left getting Drew back to Midway. Unfortunately, his father booked Drew's flight at 9:15 in the morning. That meant we would have to get up at 3:00 am to make sure we got to Midway on time. Inconvenient, but possible.
Until Mother Nature intervened.
Andrew came out for a week starting June 6th. It was between the end of school in Delaware and going to his father's in Oregon. He flew into Midway in Chicago on Southwest. Flying in and out of Midway is cheaper, even with the money spent on travel, than flying out of Cedar Rapids. So I drove in to Midway that Friday morning. The trip started without incident, but I got a speeding ticket shortly after entering Illinois. But from there to Midway things went well.
However, as I parked in the lowest level of the parking garage at Midway (that's where short-term parking is) it seemed like the engine was running hot. I popped the hood, and saw light coming out of the engine area. This is not how it is supposed to be.
I got out of the car, opening the hood fully, and spied the fire. Yes, fire. It was small - maybe the size of two fists, and it didn't seem like anything was on fire; rather that something had hit the engine block and started on fire - but as any mechanic will tell you, any fire on the engine block is a bad fire. I leaned in, blowing, finally putting the fire out. And yes, I realize this was probably not the smartest thing I've ever done.
I went to get Drew, and called my mechanic in Iowa while waiting for Drew's flight to arrive. My mechanic confirmed my impressions that a: I should not attempt to drive the car, and b: the cost of transporting the car to Iowa to get it looked at would be prohibitive. I got Drew, then called Lesa. She got the numbers for some car repair shops and dealerships in the Chicago area, finally settling on the BMW dealership in Orland Park. They recommended a towing service. I called both, making arrangements to have the car towed and subsequently diagnosed. I then went to secure a rental car.
I got a car at Budget in Midway. This was not without complications; they told me there was no Budget drop off in Iowa City, which I knew for a fact wasn't true, because I've gotten vehicles from them before. In fact, it was my satisfaction with the service at Budget in Iowa City that made me go to the Budget counter in the first place. Nonetheless, for some reason, it was not in the system. My only choice was to get a car I could drop off in Des Moines or get a car to bring back to Midway. Since I would need to get back to Midway the following weekend so Drew could fly out to Oregon, I decided to go that route. Besides, at that point I was still hoping I would have a BMW to drive home on the return trip.
Meanwhile, we needed to wait for the tow truck to arrive before we went to pick up the rental. When the tow truck finally got there, he couldn't get into the parking garage. As a result, I needed to drive my car out of the parking garage to where the tow truck was parked by the departure drop offs. I wasn't particularly thrilled to be driving a car that had previously been on fire, but it worked out. The driver got the car hooked up, I paid the $200 towing charge, and Drew and I went to get the rental car.
We got to the Budget lot and found out they had given our car to someone else because we hadn't gotten there right away. This despite the fact that I had told the person at the rental counter that we wouldn't be going right over to get the car. We ended up waiting another hour there til they had a car for us. It was a Cadillac, though. A very nice car. I was assured that there wouldn't be any extra charge, and we were off. We got back home around 11:00, about five hours later than I had hoped to return when I set off that morning.
I'll leave out the fun aspects of Drew being here. Suffice it to say, it was great that he was able to be here for a week.
Even if Ethan was sick for three days of that week.
Anyway, on Tuesday I get the call from BMW of Orland Park. There's $4,000 worth of repairs, and that's just fixing the stuff the fire damaged. Finding what exactly caused the fire, and how to repair that, would be more. And that doesn't even touch the $1,000 in repairs the car needed before I drove to Chicago. (Nothing that was urgent, but things that needed to be taken care of in the next year or so.)
The car cost me $6,000.
Needless to say, it didn't seem to make much sense to drop $4,000 plus into it. The repair agent I spoke to, after I said not to fix it, told me that if I had said to fix it, he was prepared to try to talk me out of it.
But that left me needing a car. I went out to the local Ford dealer. As much as I loved the BMWs, I wasn't prepared to get another car that was more than a decade old, which was the only way I could get another BMW. I found a nice Mercury Sable wagon that had been traded in just the previous week. 2005, low mileage, decent miles per gallon. The price was okay too. I got a quote, then went to the bank. Fortunately, the bank was willing to write a new loan high enough to pay off the previous loan and get the new used car. So that was taken care of.
I still needed to dispose of the old car. I got that taken care of by donating it to charity. They would go to the dealer, pick it up, tow it away, and auction it, all at no cost to me. That's two headaches down.
The final headache was getting the rental car and Drew back to Midway, then getting a new rental that I could drop off in Iowa City. I stopped in the Budget location in Iowa City, and was assured that, no matter what I was told in Midway, I could drop off a car there. They said I might have to rent the car to be dropped off at Des Moines, but even if I did, I could drop it off in Iowa City.
So that just left getting Drew back to Midway. Unfortunately, his father booked Drew's flight at 9:15 in the morning. That meant we would have to get up at 3:00 am to make sure we got to Midway on time. Inconvenient, but possible.
Until Mother Nature intervened.
Signs
Sign posted on the outside of the Metrodome, spied on Saturday 06/28/08:
The Minnesota Twins Baseball Club Bans Guns In These Premises
I realize there is probably a legal reason they need to post this, but I really hope there aren't a lot of people walking up, seeing this, and then turning to their spouse to say
"Damnit! Honey, give me the keys and my ticket. I've got to go back and put my assault rifle in the trunk. I'll catch up to you."
The Minnesota Twins Baseball Club Bans Guns In These Premises
I realize there is probably a legal reason they need to post this, but I really hope there aren't a lot of people walking up, seeing this, and then turning to their spouse to say
"Damnit! Honey, give me the keys and my ticket. I've got to go back and put my assault rifle in the trunk. I'll catch up to you."
Thursday, June 05, 2008
A Quote Only A Genre Geek Could Love
From the Economist's review of McCain's Tuesday speech. (H/t Daily Kos)
Addendum: OK, I lied, there's one surprise: The terrifying death rictus grin-and-snicker after every joke line. I don't know whether Americans are ready to vote for Mr McCain, but I am prepared to pay him one million dollars not to release deadly Smilex gas over the New Year's Eve crowd at midnight.
For those wondering about the reference, go here.
Addendum: OK, I lied, there's one surprise: The terrifying death rictus grin-and-snicker after every joke line. I don't know whether Americans are ready to vote for Mr McCain, but I am prepared to pay him one million dollars not to release deadly Smilex gas over the New Year's Eve crowd at midnight.
For those wondering about the reference, go here.
Monday, June 02, 2008
The Dweeze Poetry Project: Sun and Moon
I used to write a lot of poetry. I know, I know. Big surprise there. But I've seldom shared it with anyone.
Anyway, tonight I was trying to explain to E why the sun could melt ice cream but the moon couldn't. As I was doing so, I realized "Hey! I wrote a poem that talked about this a long time ago. Too bad I have no place to ever publish that, and other poems." Then, after a long pause, I realized again "I could post it, and others, on the blog!" Now, I know Voltaire (I think it was Voltaire, and I'm too damned lazy to google it) once said "Beware a man who reads his poems in public, for he probably has other faults" but a: I'm not actually reading my poetry, and 2: It can't be more embarassing than some of the stuff I've put up here. So, here is the first post in the ongoing Dweeze Poetry Project. This is called "Sun and Moon," written in the mid-90s.
The moon has no light of its own
It can only reflect the light of the sun
I can sympathize, for I
I have no light of my own
I can only reflect the light of you
Anyway, tonight I was trying to explain to E why the sun could melt ice cream but the moon couldn't. As I was doing so, I realized "Hey! I wrote a poem that talked about this a long time ago. Too bad I have no place to ever publish that, and other poems." Then, after a long pause, I realized again "I could post it, and others, on the blog!" Now, I know Voltaire (I think it was Voltaire, and I'm too damned lazy to google it) once said "Beware a man who reads his poems in public, for he probably has other faults" but a: I'm not actually reading my poetry, and 2: It can't be more embarassing than some of the stuff I've put up here. So, here is the first post in the ongoing Dweeze Poetry Project. This is called "Sun and Moon," written in the mid-90s.
The moon has no light of its own
It can only reflect the light of the sun
I can sympathize, for I
I have no light of my own
I can only reflect the light of you
A Word Of Advice To Myself
Dear Dweeze:
Just because you bought a new blender, doesn't mean you have to have a double-sized chocolate malt every night.
Love,
Dweeze
Just because you bought a new blender, doesn't mean you have to have a double-sized chocolate malt every night.
Love,
Dweeze
Dunkin Donuts, K-Mart, And The Appropriate Response
Jolene briefly touches on the stupidest story from last week, the successful attempt by the right-wing fringe to save America by making Rachel Ray change her clothing accessories. For those that missed it, Dunkin Donuts (the clear favorite to win the 2008 Award for Corporate Cowardice) had a promotional photo with Rachel Ray wearing what some claimed was a keffiyeh (the traditional scarf worn in Middle-Eastern cultures). This was interpreted to be a shot across the bow of patriotic Amurricins everywhere, one of our biggest corporate shills wearing the Mooslim scarf of terror. Nevermind that it contained floral patterns and colors seldom found in true keffiyehs; nevermind you can see Lower Upper Class women wearing them almost anywhere you go in this country. It was a horrible thing for her to do at a time when we are at war with all of the Middle East, including those Israelis who don't agree with us, and the bold members of the lunatic fringe, led by wild-eyed howler monkey Michelle Malkin, stood up, screamed, and got Dunkin Donuts to pull the ad.
(Jolene links to this story in the Boston Glode. A funnier version of the issue can be found, as per usual, at Sadly, No!, where you can find an even funnier post about the right-wing furry who commissions comic art of himself as a skunk fucking underage skunks who was among those leading the charge that Obama lied about his great-uncle's military service during WWII. No, really. I'm not making that up.)
Last week also saw a very interesting article from Rick Perlstein, author of the new book Nixonland, a history of the conservative movement in the 70s. Perlstein talks about how many conservative commentators have asked him why he's the only liberal to treat the conservative movement seriously:
First question: "It's my general sense that liberal or popular historians don't seem to be very interested in conservative history and ideology. Why are you?" In other words: why is the left--except for Perlstein!--so condescending that they refuse to take the right seriously.
Perlstein then details how not only are many on the left taking the conservative movement seriously, but have actually used that movement as a model for today's liberal movement. He offers plenty of examples of liberals taking conservatives seriously. Others in the left blogosphere chime in, providing further examples.
Why do I mention these two things together? Because, while it is important to respect elements of the conservative movement, it is hard, if not impossible, to take seriously people worried about Rachel Ray starting a jihad. That is, certain opinions not only call up condescension, they demand it.
Here's an example closer to home. If you spend any time at all reading the Press-Citizen's online comment pages, you'll find a lot of barely disguised racism. Sure, it's covered in code words applicable only to Iowa City, words like "Broadway Apartments" and "Chicago transplants". Now, I've been in the area for over 30 years now, and while Iowa City isn't the "whiteville" it once was, it's a long, long way from being overrun by minorities like some at the Press-Citizen message boards claim. But when you see someone posting about how they feel unsafe going to K-Mart at any time of day because of the number of "those people" you see there, you don't know how to react. On the one hand, you want to take the concerns seriously, because this is obviously someone expressing fears they truly feel. On the other hand, it's such an idiotic fear that it's hard to take someone who would express it seriously. I go in that K-Mart every now and then on one of my area toy quests, and I've never felt the least bit threatened.
There are no easy answers, at least none I see. It almost seems that making fun of a person who has that fear, or who fears a keffiyeh, might have a better chance of reaching them, or at least reaching someone who could possibly be swayed by them, then trying a reasoned argument. The reasoned argument is sure to fall on deaf ears. Maybe mockery won't.
(Jolene links to this story in the Boston Glode. A funnier version of the issue can be found, as per usual, at Sadly, No!, where you can find an even funnier post about the right-wing furry who commissions comic art of himself as a skunk fucking underage skunks who was among those leading the charge that Obama lied about his great-uncle's military service during WWII. No, really. I'm not making that up.)
Last week also saw a very interesting article from Rick Perlstein, author of the new book Nixonland, a history of the conservative movement in the 70s. Perlstein talks about how many conservative commentators have asked him why he's the only liberal to treat the conservative movement seriously:
First question: "It's my general sense that liberal or popular historians don't seem to be very interested in conservative history and ideology. Why are you?" In other words: why is the left--except for Perlstein!--so condescending that they refuse to take the right seriously.
Perlstein then details how not only are many on the left taking the conservative movement seriously, but have actually used that movement as a model for today's liberal movement. He offers plenty of examples of liberals taking conservatives seriously. Others in the left blogosphere chime in, providing further examples.
Why do I mention these two things together? Because, while it is important to respect elements of the conservative movement, it is hard, if not impossible, to take seriously people worried about Rachel Ray starting a jihad. That is, certain opinions not only call up condescension, they demand it.
Here's an example closer to home. If you spend any time at all reading the Press-Citizen's online comment pages, you'll find a lot of barely disguised racism. Sure, it's covered in code words applicable only to Iowa City, words like "Broadway Apartments" and "Chicago transplants". Now, I've been in the area for over 30 years now, and while Iowa City isn't the "whiteville" it once was, it's a long, long way from being overrun by minorities like some at the Press-Citizen message boards claim. But when you see someone posting about how they feel unsafe going to K-Mart at any time of day because of the number of "those people" you see there, you don't know how to react. On the one hand, you want to take the concerns seriously, because this is obviously someone expressing fears they truly feel. On the other hand, it's such an idiotic fear that it's hard to take someone who would express it seriously. I go in that K-Mart every now and then on one of my area toy quests, and I've never felt the least bit threatened.
There are no easy answers, at least none I see. It almost seems that making fun of a person who has that fear, or who fears a keffiyeh, might have a better chance of reaching them, or at least reaching someone who could possibly be swayed by them, then trying a reasoned argument. The reasoned argument is sure to fall on deaf ears. Maybe mockery won't.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Best News Story Of The Week?
Easily this one:
North Liberty Police are investigating reports of a bear along Muddy Creek and the bike trail.
Dispatchers with the North Liberty Police Department and the Johnson County Sheriff’s Office reported they received 11 calls of a black bear lurking along the CRANDIC railroad tracks and bike trail along Muddy Creek south of Zeller Street in North Liberty. Most of the reports were on Wednesday, with the latest coming in around 10 p.m. Wednesday night, North Liberty Police Chief James Warkentin said.
...
Police called in the Iowa Department of Natural Resources and Iowa City Animal Control, who spent parts of Thursday searching for the bear. Tim Thompson, a biologist with the IDNR, said he investigated reports of bear tracks in North Liberty around 6 p.m. Wednesday, only to determine they came from a dog. However, he said it was likely that if a bear was loose, it was a smaller animal, about the size of a large dog, and possibly somebody’s pet. He said the publicity surrounding its sighting could bring its owner forward. He also said the bear likely would be fairly harmless unless it was provoked or cornered.
“They’re primarily herbivores,” Thompson said. “They’ll scurry away like a raccoon. It’s probably running terrified.”
Now, when people were first talking about this at work, I flashed back to where we used to live outside of North Liberty. It was a little development (maybe 12-15 houses total) built in a wooded area near the lake. And I do mean wooded area - in summer time, you could only see the houses right next to us and the house across the street. Everything else was surrounded by trees and hilly terrain, and a bear in that area didn't seem too unlikely. After all, I had seen deer and fox in the yard on several occasions.
But no, the area where the "bear" was seen was not in the woods, but in a fairly open area. So the chances of it actually being a bear seem pretty remote. Unless it was one of those hobo bears that jumped a train and then jumped off there. Or a bigfoot. Bigfoot is my best guess.
Anyway, we had a lot of fun with the idea at work, finding bear pictures online to put on our area maps. But trust me - if you Google Bear Pictures, read the results carefully before clicking on the link. You'll be glad you did.
North Liberty Police are investigating reports of a bear along Muddy Creek and the bike trail.
Dispatchers with the North Liberty Police Department and the Johnson County Sheriff’s Office reported they received 11 calls of a black bear lurking along the CRANDIC railroad tracks and bike trail along Muddy Creek south of Zeller Street in North Liberty. Most of the reports were on Wednesday, with the latest coming in around 10 p.m. Wednesday night, North Liberty Police Chief James Warkentin said.
...
Police called in the Iowa Department of Natural Resources and Iowa City Animal Control, who spent parts of Thursday searching for the bear. Tim Thompson, a biologist with the IDNR, said he investigated reports of bear tracks in North Liberty around 6 p.m. Wednesday, only to determine they came from a dog. However, he said it was likely that if a bear was loose, it was a smaller animal, about the size of a large dog, and possibly somebody’s pet. He said the publicity surrounding its sighting could bring its owner forward. He also said the bear likely would be fairly harmless unless it was provoked or cornered.
“They’re primarily herbivores,” Thompson said. “They’ll scurry away like a raccoon. It’s probably running terrified.”
Now, when people were first talking about this at work, I flashed back to where we used to live outside of North Liberty. It was a little development (maybe 12-15 houses total) built in a wooded area near the lake. And I do mean wooded area - in summer time, you could only see the houses right next to us and the house across the street. Everything else was surrounded by trees and hilly terrain, and a bear in that area didn't seem too unlikely. After all, I had seen deer and fox in the yard on several occasions.
But no, the area where the "bear" was seen was not in the woods, but in a fairly open area. So the chances of it actually being a bear seem pretty remote. Unless it was one of those hobo bears that jumped a train and then jumped off there. Or a bigfoot. Bigfoot is my best guess.
Anyway, we had a lot of fun with the idea at work, finding bear pictures online to put on our area maps. But trust me - if you Google Bear Pictures, read the results carefully before clicking on the link. You'll be glad you did.
Not That I'm Complaining, But
Can anyone explain to me why gas is $.10 a gallon cheaper in Williamsburg than it is in Iowa City? It's the same question that's always bothered me about Cedar Rapids, except now I can get the cheaper gas without driving someplace I wouldn't otherwise be driving. You would think that there wouldn't be any additional cost factor to delivering gas to Iowa City that doesn't also apply to delivering gas twenty miles away in Cedar Rapids or Williamsburg. So what is the difference? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Posting
I am constantly thinking of posts. In fact, I mentally write far more posts than I actually, you know, post. I’ll completely create a post in my head, then never bother to write it down and post it. Not sure why that is – perhaps I’m just bored with the post by the time I get to physically writing it. I think that’s why the short posts show up more often than the long ones. I’ve got about a third of a post on the recent Englert brouhaha written – hell, I actually spent time researching the effectiveness and justification of TIF districts – just sitting as a draft. There’s also a post that’s been brewing about why Obama, or more specifically, Obama supporters, scare the hell out of me. I hope to get some of these written and posted in the next few days. Til then – kid stories and innuendo (though not in the same posts)!
S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G
Ethan does really well with numbers. He knows his street addresses in both Iowa and Delaware, he reads off the street addresses of every house as we drive down the street, he can count to 100, and he can do basic addition. But he hasn’t been that good on his letters, and he still doesn’t really know his ABCs.
Kindergarten is just four months away, so we’ve started working on his letters. He can now spell his name, and it only took him two days to get there. We’ve spent a lot of time spelling names, and while he can’t spell them all, he knows that D is for Daddy, M is for Mommy, and A is for Andrew.
Last night we went through a long period of spelling names, every name E could think of. We finished, and for some reason I spelled the word “clock” – probably because clocks are among his favorite things, because they are always showing (and changing) numbers. In response, he said “Clock isn’t a name.” I patiently explained that clock was a word, and that all words, not just names, were made up of letters, and that anything made up of letters could be spelled. You could see the connections being made in his mind as I spoke, a whole new world of information opening up to him, and we spent the next twenty minutes or so spelling every word he could think of.
I couldn’t be prouder of him. I really couldn’t.
Kindergarten is just four months away, so we’ve started working on his letters. He can now spell his name, and it only took him two days to get there. We’ve spent a lot of time spelling names, and while he can’t spell them all, he knows that D is for Daddy, M is for Mommy, and A is for Andrew.
Last night we went through a long period of spelling names, every name E could think of. We finished, and for some reason I spelled the word “clock” – probably because clocks are among his favorite things, because they are always showing (and changing) numbers. In response, he said “Clock isn’t a name.” I patiently explained that clock was a word, and that all words, not just names, were made up of letters, and that anything made up of letters could be spelled. You could see the connections being made in his mind as I spoke, a whole new world of information opening up to him, and we spent the next twenty minutes or so spelling every word he could think of.
I couldn’t be prouder of him. I really couldn’t.
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