lowercase numbers

movin' on up

2008-02-17T22:33:00.000-08:00

bowing out with style

2008-02-08T09:01:00.000-08:00

I've written this post a hundred different ways in my head - and the only way to do it that seemed true to myself was to write the way I always write. That being said,

There are a lot of similarities between me and Mitt Romney. Let's go over the obvious first. We are both:
Male
Mormon
Tall (i'm two inches taller)
Handsome
Have full heads of well coifed hair
Millionaires
Rabidly Conservative
Liken ourselves to The Great Communicator

I know... all of those are so obvious they should go without saying. But it turns out, we have one final thing in common. A couple of days ago Mitt announced the end of his campaign for President of the United States. While I'm sure it was a hard decision, I know it must also bring a lot of relief and the storm of stress that surrounded him and his family can finally dissipate. He can kick back with his boys from Bain Capital, and go back to swimming in money like Scrooge McDuck. (In my head, that's what rich people do with their leisure time)

Like Mitt, I too am putting a bookend on one chapter of my life. This blog.

There was a time when I was a regular, 2-3 post a week blogger. I had content spewing out of my ears. Not only was I writing like mad, but I was addicted to the stimulus I got in the form of comments. Comments are the currency of blogging. It's what pays the bills.

Every once in a while, I wouldn't get comments on what I thought was a great post, and I'd get in a sour mood. I was constantly checking my statcounter info, who was finding me, where where they reading, how long were they staying... me. me. me.

Like presidential campaigns, blogs are largely about ego. You can argue this point with me, but you won't sway me. Many blogs are about self promotion. The blogger thinks their life, their perspectives, their insights... are so interesting that they will publish them for the good of the internet and people will come by the hundreds to sup at their table. I thought like this, also thinking "maybe one day someone will discover my blog and decide me they want me to write for them."

One of my professors at CU did her doctoral research on the 2004 campaign said some things that really stuck with me. She said that "to be a presidential candidate, you should probably be a masochist." The amount of self inflicted wounds, and scrutiny you go through is unbelievable. Also, she said "you need to have a huge ego. You honestly need to believe that you are the best person in the world for this position."

I get really nausiated when I read blogs where people are like, "how come no one comments?" "I know a lot of you read my blog, but..." grumble grumble whine whine woe is me.

Here's the thing. (ever since I've been in grad school I've been infatuated with economic analogies) The blogosphere IS the epitome of the free market. Blogs come and go. If you have really unique, dynamic, well put together product (blog), the market will respond (comments). If you don't, then they won't. But begging people to buy your product (blog) is not how the market works. People respond to innovation, price... you have to create the supply, because the demand is obviously out there. So write some creative crap and let people enjoy it. If not... your blog/writing probably sucks.

Also like Mitt, I realize that I can't compete with others. There are way smarter, funnier and more dedicated bloggers out there. Its not fair to have a blog post once every fortnight, and then for me to get snippy because there weren't any comments. I read the Freakanomics, Wired, and Malcolm Gladwell's blog and cringe in inferiority. With blogs like these, who needs lowercase numbers?

Additionally... Since I started this blog almost 2.5 years ago, I've changed a lot, but I've tried to keep my blog the same. When I started my blog I was a young professional embarking on a cross country trek to find himself. I found myself, and a lot of other things. I found great friends, a great city, but most importantly, a great woman.

There have been countless times where I've wanted a blog that reflected more of what my life was like now. I know in the past I've kind of dissed biographical blogs before... and also like Mitt I'm now changing my mind so eat crud. What I like about family blogs is that they strengthen ties between family and friends. That's what I'm interested in, and less interested in the pursuit of "comments."

Talking about my new, bicycling/grad school/married life on THIS blog always seemed inconsistent with the tone I had previously established. I think good writers monitor the bigger picture - and how their writing works in concert with its environment. Others may be able to do it, but for some reason it just didn't mesh with me. So I'm not going to do it any more. I want a more biographical blog, one where I can keep in touch with loved ones and talk about funny conversations, trips, friends, and not have to have some clever angle all the time - all in the hopes of getting feedback. I want to talk about my life and not pretend like my blog and my life are two separate entities.

So this, my friends... strangers... is the end of lowercase numbers. It's not the end of my writing. I'm still writing. I write for an organization that I volunteer for where I get to talk passionately about bicycling.

I also have a blog with my siblings/spouses/parents that I've seriously neglected, which I want to re-invest in.

Finally, I want to start writing about my new and exciting life with my wife Ashley. We set up a blog a little bit ago... and are working on some content in the near future. Don't worry, it's not going to be one of those cutesy brown and baby blue themed blogs where all you see are pictures of us caressing each other's face. I want it to be a place where we can talk about work, about school, where we can announce a bun in the oven (not yet), etc. It'll be about our life, which at times is hilarious, exciting, dramatic, sad... but most importantly, it's us.

In case any of you would like to keep tabs on us, you'll want to go here. And just like the URL indicates, it will be rad.

Finally - one last request - if you wouldn't mind sharing one of your favorite lowercase numbers memories/posts on the blog that would be great. I'll keep the blog up, as it will be a handy way to check in on blogs that I already have linked. Also, I'll want to keep it up in case I ever need it for resume material when the New Yorker comes knocking at my door.

adios muchachos...

dcp

stickin' it to the Man

2008-02-06T15:01:00.000-08:00

There are few experiences in life that bring such joy, such contenment, such... pleasure - than the experience of sticking it to "the man." There's something about the man... isn't there - and how bad you just want to stick it to him. The man could be your boss, your supervisor, your teacher, the government, the world. It's as vague or as specific as you need it to be. But the one thing about the man is... he'll stick it to you if you don't give it to him first.

I had an opportunity to get nailed by the man... aka... the computer gods several weeks ago.

Ashley's computer was feeling a little ill, so I took it into the store and the sales assistant informed me that the hard drive had given up the ghost. Bad news. How much would it cost to repair? $300. But that wasn't all. Little did I know that this was just the cake. A thin, lifeless, spongy cake. The icing you ask? It would cost another $400 (mandatory) to replace the outer aluminum shell because it had been dropped. $400 dollars worth of bitter, nasty, frosting.

A whopping $700 for a repair. Might as well invest another 3-hundy and get a new macbook right? Eat into the savings, right? Get robbed by the man right?

WRONG.

I consulted Chris, my brother in law who is a nascent expert at sticking it to the man. Not to mention, a real life Mr. Wizard, castrating fruit flies and performing other intricate operations pertaining to stem cell research at Johns Hopkins. He directed me to a website that showed detailed instructions on how to install hard drives, and all other sorts of commonly replaced parts in computers. Wow... show me more.

He informed me that not too long ago, his computer had met a similar fate. He decided that he was mad as hell, and he wasn't going to take it anymore. (my words) He found the aforelinked website and did the exact same repair. And it was a success!

I bit the bullet... bought a new, fancier, bigger hard drive for Ashley's computer, and waited for them to come out and visit so he could walk me through the steps. Fortunately, they were due out for a visit because my sister in law won a free trip to California, lucky dog.

Turns out, doing the repair wasn't as intimidating as I thought Mostly using a tiny screw driver and allen wrench to take the cover off. I was glad to have Chris there to hold my hand, but honestly - the directions were on par with your standard lego instructions or putting together your new fjourdourjkufknog from Ikea.

Ashley's new hard drive was $100 dollars - for a 100GB hard drive. Her old one was a 60GB. Now we have all the memory we need for music, documents, pictures... and archived blog entries about sticking it to the man.

Storage increase = 40 GB

Savings = $600 bucks

Satisfaction for sticking it to the man = Priceless

I feel like there are opportunities everywhere to stick it to the man, if we only have a little encouragement and some hand holding. Do you guys have any experiences when you stuck it to the man, or times when you could've but didn't? Regrets? Let's hear about 'em.... cause honestly, the man is winning this debate and could use some bad PR.

crossing over - THE bad idea

2008-01-25T12:01:00.000-08:00

This is in response to the article I just read in the LA-Times announcing that Scarlett Johannson is going to put out a solo album in March. Yuck.

I don't know what it is inside me... but everytime I read or hear about an act(or)tress "crossing over" into the musical world, I just cringe. Also, I think that crossing over should be left to the professionals, like John Edward. ; )

Part of me thinks it's ego - they are so in love with themselves that they really can't bridle the belief that everyone will devour what they put out.

Sometimes I think they are led by others who blow smoke up their hiney, telling them they can make a quick buck by pooping out an album.

It's not that I dislike Scar-Jo, I think she's fine. However, after watching Scoop I realize that the only role she was ever really suited to play was debbie-downer in Lost in Translation.

Moving on... the list of terrible cross overs is seemingly endless. I'll just name a few and leave it to you to remind me of ones I've forgotten:

Shaq - tried film and music.
Jennifer Love Hewitt - hits like "lets go bang," "bare naked," and "the greatest word." simply stunning
Paris Hilton
Alan Iverson
That one Duff Girl
Lindsey Lohan
Britney Spears
Mos Def
DMX, IceCube, Snoop, the list goes on...
Ludacris - too fast, too much ludacris.
Madonna - I cried for her bad performance in Evita. Ok, confession, I never saw it. But she was somewhat charming in League of their own.
Justin Timberlake - Didn't see Alpha Dog. Don't know anyone who saw it. But he has been a great host on SNL. Check out the Barry Gibb Talk Show. (man i miss jimmy fallon)
Mark Walhberg - Best work - I Heart Huckabees.
Andre 3000 - Me and three of my brothers (note, that makes 4 Brothers) saw the movie 4 Brothers (which coincidentally has Mark Walhberg in it). For the record, I did not like seeing Dre stab some dude in the chest. gruesome.
Will Smith - Very charismatic. He's music is really tacky, but on the big screen he's fun to watch.

Reviewing the list, Obviously there is a hierarchy. Sports stars going to music is a pretty big leap (into the toilet bowl).

Actors going to music, also doesn't work very well.

Of all of the leaps to make, I think the best recipe is if you are a musician, and then you go into acting - what are your thoughts on this? Looking at the list, I'd say the best cross overs are Mark Wahlberg and Will Smith - both musicians before actors.

Who did I miss? Who are your favorite crossovers? Who are the worst?

things i'd like to do at the airport or on the airplane

2008-01-17T15:01:00.001-08:00

But I don't have the courage to.

When the person working at the desk asks me, "Do you have any baggage to check?"
I'd like to respond, "Does that include emotional baggage, cause I've got a lot of that."

I'd like to go through the security line in a trench coat, much like a streaker would wear. I'd also like to wear only the trench coat... like a streaker.

Then, when they ask me to remove my coat, I'd simply tell them that this was the only article of clothing I was wearing (much like a dress), and that by taking off my trench coat I'd be undressing. "You wouldn't ask that woman to remove her dress, would you?"

After some confusion and thoughts of me being some sort of weirdo... I'd like to pass through security with the satisfaction that I didn't have to do what the TSA people said. Some of them really really enjoy enforcing arbitrary rules on people. I want to give them a dose of their own medicine.

Maybe the first time I tried It I'd just wear a tank top and some gym shorts... try to call their bluff and see if they'd check me. Surely, It can't be against the law to wear only a trench coat, do you think?

When I'm on the plane, I'd like to recline without guilt. I cannot do this, so I do not. When people try to recline in front of me I simply strengthen my resolve of wedging my knees behind their seat. You see, it takes no effort for me to do this as my knees are already touching the back. All I need is a little ire, and then the person in front of me becomes enemy #1. Try as they might, their seat will not recline. I'd rather go through five hours of constant pressure on my knees than let you have the satisfaction of reclining. Unless they appear to be taller than me... then I yield out of empathy.

However, the odds of this are pretty small. Standing at 6'4", I'm taller than approximately 99.4% of American men. That means there are roughly 9 million men taller than me in the US, or one out of 16 men. I like those odds!

Did you know, the average height for men in the Dinaric Alps is 6'1". 5'7" for women. Wow.

Once the plane lands (and that familiar ding goes off), everyone rushes to their feet. But we all know that there will be little movement for the next 10-15 minutes. It seems like I'm always toward the back, hating every individual that is in front of me. They were so skilled at putting their suitcase up in the overhead storage, now it appears as though they are trying to disarm a nuclear bomb as they take it down. They look so puzzled. "Get that damn bag out or I'll come over there and bludgeon you with mine."

But really, what I'd like to do is push my way forward with a little "excuse me, pardon me" sequence. You notice how almost any one moves at the request of "excuse me," even when it's to their own detriment. You see people doing this number all the time, on crowded mass transit, at concerts, etc. People move, even when it is in their best interest to stay put. We've been programmed. I'll use their programming against them.

Once off the plane I want to ride on the baggage claim carousel (or is it marry-go-round) and look at everyone's face who was just on the plane with me. I'd like to do that, and to climb back up into that cavernous-black whole where all of the luggage appears. In my mind, once I pop my head in for a gander, I'd see an enormous system of belts and claws, notched wheels and an intricate system of cogs like a grandfather clock. Controlled chaos. Like the inside of a toy/claw game.

[For those of you who think you are good at those, read this ~~amazing~~ pathetic story]

That pretty much sums up all of the things I'd like to do at the airport or on an airplane. What would you like to do?

redundant

2008-01-10T07:01:00.000-08:00

Why do we (or at least, some people) say "tuna fish?" As in, "Honey, would you like me to make you a tuna fish sandwich?"

Isn't adding "fish" behind "tuna" completely redundant? What other kind of tuna is there?

We don't say "would you like some rainbow trout fish?" Perhaps this should extend into other meats as well:

I'd like a hamburger cow please

I'd like a bacon pig lettuce vegetable tomato (fruit?) sandwich please.

Mom, the turkey bird is delicious this year!

Across the Atlantic, there's another kind of redundant.

In England, when people are "laid off" they say they've been "made redundant."

"Hey Paul, you still working in at the steel mill?"

"Nope, I was made redundant a fortnight ago."

I think the idea that you, as a person - are now redundant, is kind of a funny idea.

Anything redundant in your life worth sharing?

chuckabee

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

Hey kids... you may be aware that once upon a time this blog was called "Mr. Pulsipher goes to Washington." It was supposed to be an autobiographical sojourn through the mean streets of Washington D.C. At that time, my desire to live/work in DC coincided with my personal interest in politics, and my blog reflected that. After a while however, I noticed that I didn't particularly like the direction my blog was going. For several reasons.

1. Picking on the Bush Administration was like "shooting fish in a barrel." I got winded in the early rounds, much like Apollo Creed beating up a lifeless Rocky Balboa.
2. My critiques & rants were not particularly well crafted nor insightful. Just typical angry democrat platitudes. It made for really uninteresting reading.
3. I wanted to give people something enjoyable to read. Reading angry political blogging is like reading a sixth grader's journal penned in pig-latin. I get it, but I want my 6 minutes back.

That being said, I'm about to tip toe near those waters again. I'm sorry, but seeing freaking Chuck Norris with his smug grin behind Mike Huckabee after his "victory" in Iowa made my blood boil.

By and large, celebrity endorsements are pretty anemic. Yet... I do think it speaks to who the candidate is trying to attract. After all, if you felt an endorsement were a liability, you wouldn't go around telling people about it.

It has been a wild and crazy celebrity endorsement season. Larry Flynt, the founder of the Hustler Empire endorsed Dennis Kucinich. Oprah endorsed Obama. Chuck Norris endorses Huckabee.

This begs several questions. What the hell does Chuck Norris know about politics. Two, who looks to Chuck Norris as a political sensei? Oprah - with her seemingly limitless sphere of influence makes sense as an endorsement. It has been argued that even the Flynt endorsement is supposed to have 1st amendment implications (big stretch).

What does Chuck Norris add to your campaign? Credibility to to those with a penchant for martial arts. Also, those who like Texas Rangers. No, not the baseball team - an elite branch of the lone star state's justice system - memorialized on Norri's hit (or something else that rhymes with hit) show "Walker, Texas Ranger."

Three years ago (or so) there was a lengthy list of Chuck Norris attributes that spread originally through chain email, and was posted everywhere. Somewhere along the line it went from laughing AT Chuck Norris, to laughing WITH Chuck Norris. The guy is a has-been (or maybe, "was-he-ever"?) and holds as much celebrity clout as Rowdy Roddy Piper. I'm embarrassed for him, and for Mike Huckabee.

Now that I've got that out of my system... I think this begs an imperative question. Who are the top people you'd want to endorse your political campaign, and who are the last people you'd want an endorsement from.

I'll suggest a few, and wait for your brilliance on the matter. Living or Dead, does not matter.

Endorsements - Yes Please!
The Google Guys - let's face it, they've got the midas touch. plus, with every google search my page would be at the top.
Oprah - I think that every house with a TV on at 3pm has Oprah on it.
John Elway - the man is a Legend. If I were running in Colorado I'd secure 97% of the vote on his endorsement alone.
Louie Anderson - fat comedian with a nasal voice stretches the bounds of the comedy genre. It takes a big man to put your name on the line in the pursuit of "kitsch" comedy. I am that man.

Endorsements - No Thanks!
Chuck Norris - it says "I have bad taste in tv and film, and am an otherwise sloppy person"
George W. Bush - political suicide

Sinbad - you have to draw the line with comedian endorsements somewhere.

resolution

2008-01-03T15:01:00.001-08:00

Like everyone, at New Years I make some resolutions. Unlike most people - my resolutions were concerning the reduction or swelling without suppuration. You see, resolutions have lots of different meanings:

1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.
2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.
3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.
4. the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
5. the act or process of resolving or separating into constituent or elementary parts.
6. the resulting state.
7. Optics. the act, process, or capability of distinguishing between two separate but adjacent objects or sources of light or between two nearly equal wavelengths. Compare resolving power.
8. a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem, controversy, etc.
9. Music. the progression of a voice part or of the harmony as a whole from a dissonance to a consonance. the tone or chord to which a dissonance is resolved.
10. reduction to a simpler form; conversion.
11. Medicine/Medical. the reduction or disappearance of a swelling or inflammation without suppuration.
12. the degree of sharpness of a computer-generated image as measured by the number of dots per linear inch in a hard-copy printout or the number of pixels across and down on a display screen.

Most people are referring to number two on the list when they are making new years resolutions, but not me. I'm going for number 11. I want to have a year free of swelling or inflammation without suppuration.

Ok, I confess, I have no idea what suppuration is - but I do plan on making and keeping my resolutions like I do every year. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I was 100% successful at accomplishing my resolutions last year.

Like most of you, I have resolutions pertaining to fitness, education, and professional development. I also have a resolution to learn more spanish (a continuation from last year's successful achievement) *ehem: Uno agua pura por favor? (my most oft used phrase in Guatmala).

Hopefully you guys don't have any goals pertaining to the suppuration of inflammation, but perhaps you'd like to share some yours with me? You know what they say, a goal never spoken is just a wish. Actually, I have no idea where I heard that. I hope I didn't rip that off from Steven R. Covey or I'll be mortified.

So make with the resolutions!

Frosty the Snowman

2007-12-19T06:01:00.000-08:00

This image is from Frosty the Snowman I recall watching as a kid. Something always bothered me about the nose. It's supposed to be a button, but it looks more like smashed Michigan cherry.

Does it bother you that we sing "Frosty the Snowman" at Christmas time? It bothers me, because it has nothing to do with Christmas. No yule tide, no references to the Nativity or Nativical referencs, no gift giving, nary a Santa or reindeer shout out.

Some kids host a chilly seance, erect a snow-demon who takes them around the city for winter tomfoolery before the sun comes out and melts him. Weird.

Honestly, despite it's lack of Christmas connection, the kiddies love singing it and it will probably always be associated with the season.

Here's a charming version performed by Fiona Apple.

it's the most wonderful time of the year (for music)

2007-12-17T14:19:00.000-08:00

I think one of the keys to making your holiday season "just right" is to fill in the blanks with holiday music. Times when you'd normally listen to your regular music, that's when you should bust the holiday stuff. I mean, it sits on your shelf (or more aptly, the wasteland that is known as your hard-drive) gathering dust for eleven months, you might as well bust it out and really get sick of it right?

Lately I've been in the mood for some new stuff, while still paying tribute to the classics. I've come to get your input on what you feel are the Absolute Necessities for Holiday Music. Here are some of my favorites (which I'll be sharing with you in the following week).

Last Christmas, Wham
Christmas Don't be Late, The Chipmunks
Frosty the Snowman, Fiona Apple
Blue Christmas, Elvis
O Holy Night, Sufjan Stevens
Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy, David Bowie & Bing Crosby

What is on your Christmas Essentials playlist, and will you share it with me/us?

words gone wild

2007-12-06T10:08:00.002-08:00

As time goes by, words take on different meanings. Bad means good. Cool means hip. Hip means fashion-progressive. The list goes on and on.

So imagine my delight (and to the California Transportation Foundation's dismay) when I opened my inbox this morning and found an invitation to submit a nominee for the 19th Annual Tranny Awards.

2007-19 = 1998.

I guess back then "Tranny" wasn't a popular colloquialism for a transvestite, but I'm guessing some time around 1995 it was more than common knowledge that the term "Tranny" had been co-opted as slang for men who like to dress as women.

I know... those poor souls at the CTF only want to group themselves in with the other prestigious awards like a Grammy, a Tony, an Emmy, or hell even an ESPy.

I'm very curious what a statue of a "Tranny" looks like, but good taste precludes me from even speculating. I wonder if people who win them boast about it. "Hey Bob, what is that on your mantle?"
"Oh, those are my Trannies... I've won four of them."

Conversation killer.

I've got a few ideas for a couple of future entries brewing, but with the holidays and finals coming up blogging has been pushed to the back of the shelf... back... behind my Tranny awards.

What words do you think are funny that are evolving over time?

tourism. one of the more charming "isms"

2007-11-26T12:01:00.000-08:00

The other weekend was a special one because UCLA allowed us to fully observe Veteran's Day by giving us a day off. Ashley was really jazzed about it because her work probably doesn't even observe Christmas. Ok, it does, but it's hard to get off work in the non-profit world because they need every waking moment and hour in the day to beg people for money.

We decided to observe the holiday by going to Solvang, a quaint little Danish settlement 2 hours north of Los Angeles. I first heart of Solvang from my mother, who would often go up with a girlfriend when I was in my formative years. I always thought the town must've been pretty amazing, because my mom would get REALLY excited to go - you could tell it was a place she enjoyed.

When we got there... let me back up and pretend I can't delete that - We had a good time. Solvang may have been settled originally by Danish immigrants coming to California in the late 1800's, but now it's occupied by knick-knack shops, faux-windmills, and a "As seen on TV" shop.

While it wasn't the coolest place to go, we certainly made the best of it. We rented a tandem bike and saw the sites. We had delicious traditional Danish breakfast - at a pancake house.

Aside from the lesson in joint balance that the tandem bike provided... one of my favorite things was the very odd shops, and patrons of the shops. Solvang was probably not for up and coming folk in their mid to late 20's, but it is for people who love trinkets, do-dads, and thingamajigs.

I liked this sign:

Why are they apologizing? Sorry, there are tiny little spikes in this china and if you pick it up... it's your own fault for picking it up. What real risks exist with this little guy?

We went into this new-age shoppe (like that?) that smelled of incense and had crystals everywhere.

At the cash register, I saw an amazing sign:

It was advertising the psychic reading of the day. Need a better look?

I wanted to ask so badly, "so what kind of readings are going to be offered tomorrow, less-intuitive, pessimistic, vague?"

I was scared that they might be reading the "I'm going to poke fun of your sign on my blog" look on my face, so it was really hard appearing like I was in the store under genuine pretenses, let alone sneaking a picture of your awesome sign.

Solvang had a Hans Christen Andersen museum, and some great Christmas decoration stores - but other than that I don't know if it was worth going to again unless you wanted to pretend you were in "Denmark."

All in all, it was a good time, as you can see by the smile on our faces:

Are you guys going anywhere fun this holiday season?

mr. magorium is the poor man's willy wonka

2007-11-16T16:01:00.000-08:00

You to do the math. Eccentric, mysterious entrepreneur who's target demographic is persons 12 and under. Takes you on a wild journey where things in his "emporium" *cough*factory don't behave as they should. Magic ensues. Questionable drug references. Jeez, it doesn't take a genius to smell a rip off a mile away. The only thing Mr. Magorium needs in his shop are height challenged staff with orange complexions to complete this cinema-facsimile.

It is rated G for Adult Situations, Sexual Content, Adult Language and Graphic Violence.

In other news, Ashley and I saw Lars and the Real Girl a couple of weeks ago and really liked it. It was a charming, warm, and fun breath of fresh air to an otherwise stagnant comedy genre.

What good movies have you seen lately?

steeeeeeeerike!

2007-11-09T09:01:00.000-08:00

I've always been interested in the tactic of "strikes." The strike is the ace up the sleeve of any labor movement. One thing I've noticed that many strikers slogans tend to start their signs with the wording, "Shame on..."

Shame... really?. Is that the best you can come up with? I mean, shame is a bad thing, but I can think of a lot worse things. In Japan I'm aware that shame and honor are big deal, so perhaps these signs would do really well there. But here... bleh... shame me till the cows come home, if I'm better off at the end of the day then shame is pretty palatable.

On the flip side of strikes, I've always thought it'd be fun to be a "scab." You know, someone who crosses the picket line and works while the the workers are striking. How did scabs get their names? Is it because they are integral to the healing process of a wound? I doubt it. They are total enemies. They should be called, "Wounds" not "Scabs." Am I right?

I took the liberty of assembling some "shame on signs" and then through the miracle of sloppy photo-shopping, have given their message a little more zest. To use a culinary metaphor, we're going from mayo to miracle whip. What started this whole thing was I saw a picture of Uncle Jesse striking for the screen writers, and I thought... his message needs more oomph. Without further adieu [click to enlarge pictures]:

I don't know what Woodfin is, but it sounds pharmaceutical. Probably fascists, right?

Here we've got some country-specific angst. Canada - our biggest trade partner. Who knew there was more to them then maple syrup and mounties, eh?

I thought going with a tongue-in-cheek, sarcastic tone would work with Japan. Isn't Irony in fact, not English, the international language?

Even cell phone companies can't avoid the shame. I find eating "poop" to be an effective metaphor concerning your ill feelings toward someone.

And sometimes you need to speak their language.

Do you guys have any experiences with labor disputes and strategies for striking? Have you ever been a scab? Tell me all about it.

please don't move in next door to me

2007-11-06T11:36:00.000-08:00

The other night we were in Smart & Final buying our three day supply of water. Smart & Final is the poor man's Costco. As we stood in the checkout Ashley directed my attention to their abundant sign department. Upon reflection, It is kind of funny that this was adjacent the checkout, normally I'm tempted by a Snickers, or some batteries... hell - maybe I'll even break down and by a handful of Brach's candy, but a sign?

I gazed through the collection and was immediately struck by the vulgarity of this sign. Who would buy this sign? Who would like to communicate that any unexpected visit, good or bad will be met with a revolver in the face? Do you (person buying this sign) really live in constant fear, with a revolver in hand? These are sad sad times.

Whoever buys this sign, I can personally guarantee we have nothing in common. Preferences on food, music, culture, clothing, mobility, politics, religion - everything. I promise, we will not see eye to eye.

Actually... on second thought... I hope more people do buy these signs. It will be a great indicator for me to know not to move into a neighborhood if there are any of these within a 50 mile radius. I'd hate for my unborn child's aerobie disc to errantly find your backyard. Upon entering your yard they are not welcomed with the sounds of a playful neighborhood dog, but you and your civil war era revolver.

Maybe I do like that sign after all.

We discussed weird neighbors a couple months back - any new developments since then? Do you guys have any neighbor tales that you want to get off your chest? What about annoying, obnoxious, or funny signs. Those'll suffice as well.

library etiquette

2007-11-01T08:01:00.000-07:00

It simply stupefies me that this subject even needs to be addressed. But alas, as common courtesy, respect and manners are disappearing into ferociously swirling vortex... it must be discussed.

In elementary school, we were prepped on how to behave in the library. Whispers. Quiet voices. All of this was programming for a life of efficient/courteous library patronage. Learning to speak quietly in the library wasn't immediately applicable - It's not like an elementary school library requires any real reverence... it's not like you have some 7 year old cranking out a dissertation, or a 11 year old prepping for the MCATs right? Although, it does take some serious concentration to use that Dewey decimal system, or a card catalog. I remember the first time I heard the word "CD-Rom." I'm pretty sure it was in the 7th grade, and I thought we were seriously on the cusp of the "future"... you know... like "jetons" future.

Maybe some people weren't in on this training because yesterday I had a VERY frustrating experience at the library. There are numerous libraries on the UCLA campus, and I choose to study at the Charles E. Young Research Library because it is the closest to my building, and its unique "we haven't updated a single amenity since the class gift of 1963" is really charming. The antiquated decor actually make for a nice, studious environment, most of the time.

I go to the fifth floor because it's on the top, and the most secluded. I like to read in quiet. Study desks are lined along the perimeter of the building, so you can look out the window indulge in some "California Dreamin'"

So here I am, minding my own business, when a guy comes and sits like three desks away from me. Annoying, because the place is a ghostland and I'm sitting strategically next to one of the FEW outlets on the floor. No one else can use that outlet, so there really is no reason to sit so close.

He then gets a text message and his phone plays a little melody. I hear him scurry to get his phone so I figure he forgot to silence his phone. No big deal.

He gets another text message. I figure... ok, maybe he doesn't know he's alone up here. I cough, shuffle my papers to let him know he's not alone.

Third time... he gets another message. By this time I'm plotting my confrontation... visions of my Transportation and Land Use textbook being used to bludgeon him are coming to mind. Right when my day dream ends, his phone goes off again. No more sitting in silence for me. I go up to him and say:

"Does your phone have to make those noises" (agitated, with a bit of attitude).
He responds, "no, but maybe if you would ask me to silence my phone I will."

At this point I'm thinking, "Ask? ASK! YOu want me to ASK you to silence your phone?, I don't have to do that... it's freaking common sense/courtesy"

I was really angry that he gave me such attitude, and that he wasn't apologetic at all. If you are expecting text messages, then put your phone on silent and wait for it to light up, or simply go outside. He was this scrawny little sucker and I wanted to mop the floor with him, but I didn't.

I acquiesced to his asinine request, "will you silence your phone so I can go back to studying?"

"Sure."

You'd think he'd be a little more repentant considering he was the offender, not the offended. Instead he's giving me modifiers about asking him to turn off his phone. He should've asked me not to punch him in the face. I'm still riled up about it and it's been a day.

Just as I'm settling in, getting back to hitting the books. Another person's phone rings. Not just a quiet ring, of course a loud one. Then the perp. (that's CSI talk for perpetrator) begins to indulge in a phone conversation. I was furious. I packed my stuff up and huffed it on over to class. If I had to get on my bike and someone honked at me... I would've put my lock through their windshield. I was a ticking time bomb.

All this talk about libraries reminds me of a fellow student I met on the bus the other day. He's getting his masters in Library Sciences. "Very peculiar" I thought, there's a science to libraries? I thought you just threw a bunch of books on some shelves, get the dewey decimal system going, nab yourself a few CD roms, and you are good to go. Apparently not.

Apparently those in the field of Library Science need to brush up on their library etiquette-enforcement curriculum. Have you guys had any experiences with libraries, annoying people and/or cell phones that you'd like to share?

overwhelmed

2007-10-29T07:01:00.000-07:00

One day when I had way too much time on my hands, I decided to opt for all of the toolbars when I was working on a Microsoft Word document. I wanted to know what that screen would look like. Well, I found out.

BLAH! Look at all those freaking tools. I'm glad they are normally hidden. Quite frankly, I'm surprised that they let you have more than three up simultaneously. I could only tolerate staring at the screen for five seconds before I had to remove them all.

Seeing the screen full of toolbars summons the same feelings I'd get when I walked by the store Gadzooks. If the name doesn't give it away, it shouldn't surprise you that the store was a literal onslaught of visual overload. Busy patterns, bright colors, aggressive sales displays, trinkets, doodads, unhelpful teenaged staff - the store was a cornucopia of mall cliches. I could barely tolerate being on the same wing as the store (I used to work in the mall, hence my reason for being there so regularly) let alone set a toe inside.

Sometimes I get impatient with people who get overwhelmed too easily. You know, the type of person who is doing one task - and as soon as you approach them they have a mental breakdown and let you know what a big deal
a. what they are doing is
b. that you came up to ask them in the middle of it
c. and some other crazy event fabricated to create a sense of tension and anxiety.

That being said, I think there are times (like walking into Gadzooks) when you see your screen full of toolbars and the feeling overwhelmed is quite warranted. I'd like you to share those experiences. Oh, and not the "I was having my baby" type or "we got in a car crash" schpiel. I'm thinking more along the lines of irrational-overwhelming. That's what I'm after. Additionally - if you have stories about people who get overwhelmed too easily, that'd be great too.

double negatives.

2007-10-24T07:01:00.000-07:00

I saw this shirt when I was visiting Steve & Barry's. Before you get excited... no you can't get a tub of chubby hubby there, that's Ben & Jerry's. Steve & Barry's is a budget department store that features fashion lines from the likes of Sara Jessica Parker, Stephan Marbury and Amanda Bines. Word on the street (and by "street" I mean sales associate "James H.") is that Venus Williams and Kanye West are also releasing lines of their own soon.

Man, with that ragtag cast of caracters, it leaves me wondering - who doesn't have a fashion line these days?

Anyhoo... celebrity fashion lines aside, I'd like to examine the t-shirt. I think the shirt is trying to communicate that the wearer of the shirt is against whining. And I don't blame them, whining is kind of annoying right? I hate whining so much, I'm going to buy this shirt.

But a closer look shows that the shirt actually has the circle slash through the phrase "no whining." So the shirt is actually saying "I'm against no whining." The double negative makes this confusing - so it is better translated as "I'm for whining."

Weird. Who is actually for whining? This t-shirt reminds me of one of the masters of the double negative, P. Diddy. Consider these lyrics that come to mind:

"We ain't going nowhere. We can't be stopped now."
Bad Boy for Life

"We ain't never gonna stop."
I Got the Power

Then, in the same song, back to back double negatives:
"Can't Nobody take my pride, can't nobody hold me down"
Can't Nobody Hold Me Down (club remix)

If you translate ain't = are not, the lyrics make for a charming non sequitur.

The new lyrics read:
We are not going no where and We are not never going to stop. Nobody can not take my pride, no body can not hold me down. So that means, that they are going somewhere, and they will stop someday. Someone will take your pride, and someone can hold you down. Oh P. Diddy, your grasp of the English vernacular is like unto an urban Shakespeare.

Do you have any experiences with:
a. double negatives
b. steve & barry's
c. ben and jerry's
d. dave berry or
e. p. diddy

that you'd like to share? I hope so, because I ain't never gonna stop writing this blog without your contributions.

Good marketing ideas

2007-10-19T19:01:00.000-07:00

I'm guessing that once you have a family, many extra shopping trips are added to your life... no doubt, to buy pants. Pants for dad, kids, and mom. What if I told you that there was a place where all of the family could buy pants. Because we all know who wears the pants in your family... everyone.

Look no further you road weary pants shoppers. Have I found a site for sore eyes.

Family pants has pants for everyone in the family, else, why would they call the shop that? They'll meet all the needs of your family, all the needs that is... if your family only likes dickies and stretchy jeans. Jeans with lycra. So when your family needs pants... look no further. Located in Downtown Los Angeles, around 8th & Spring.

What's your favorite place to buy pants?

bad marketing ideas

2007-10-15T08:01:00.000-07:00

As I came out of the elevator I noticed this lovely sign. Immediately I was amused at their choice of words. The phrase "BloodMobile" was used to advertise the RV that goes around generously draining volunteers of their life-source. I even participated in of these events myself. Despite a near-fainting spell, it was a pretty good experience.

But upon further reflection, BloodMobile also brings to mind this monster truck-like vehicle of death that runs on human blood. Literally, a bloodthirsty machine, always on the prowl for it's next kill. Maybe it'd be driven by some demonic figure like Count Chocula.

The BloodMobile reminds me of a really funny sketch by comedian Demetri Martin. He talks about the idea of the "half glass full, half glass empty" dialectic and how the concept should be expanded between optimism and pessimism.

I say it depends on what's in the glass. Is it baby blood? Is it blood coming out of a baby (that's bad), or going in that could save the baby's life?

I think the BloodMobile invokes a very funny mental image. Have you recently seen any bad marketing ideas... or ideas that were probably good on paper but in application didn't really play well? Do tell...

business cliches

2007-10-08T09:01:00.000-07:00

This idea seems so good, I can't believe I didn't address it sooner. I was on the phone with a gentleman the other day who was asking about our deadline for something. We are in the process of ordering a bunch of bicycle related promotional items, and I'm in charge of getting that together.

When he asked me when I needed the items - he couldn't bear to wait for my response, he said, "I know, you needed them yesterday right?"

I needed them yeserday. I needed them yesterday.

I was thinking about this saying. Of course, It wasn't the first time I heard someone say this, but I began wondering about who made this saying up. I wonder who it was, and what the reaction was like when they said it. Imagine, being there, hearing this witty statement uttered for the first time. I bet it'd be like attending the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I bet the disgruntled boss who used this maxim sent shockwaves through the office.

Did you hear what Mr. Johnson said? He needed that report so soon, he said he needed it yesterday.

Did he actually ask for it yesterday?

No, he was just making the point, that he needed it right now

And thus started one of the more pervasive business cliches ever. Can you guys think of some more, their context, and how you think they originated?

catharsis

2007-10-03T07:01:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about this song for a while, and it also coincides with one of my favorite words/concepts, catharsis. I first learned about the idea of "catharsis" in my Philosophy & Art class my freshman year in college. As much as I thought I hated the class then, I often reflect on some of the ideas we discussed, now. One of the ideas that intrigued me the most is the notion that there are activities, or art-forms that are capable of being the catalyst for "relieving emotional tension."

I've got a song in mind that I think captures the essence of catharsis for the performer, and if you are in the right mood, the listener as well. Listen to the song No Key No Plan by the band Okkervil River. When my sister Dawn was out visiting she said that one of her favorite things about the lead singer's (Will Shelf) voice was that it was so raw, real, and how it conveys such emotion. My favorite part starts at about 2:18 into the song. Seriously.

I've tried to do it justice in the shower... mimicking the inflections as best I know how. But I can't imitate or rather... replicate the sound because I'm lacking the emotion. This is odd for me, because I'm often quite adroit at imitating things I hear, especially recreating voices or doing impersonations. Ashley, at times, has called me a "parrot." But that is neither here nor there...

The point being - I can't really do the song justice because I can't feign the feelings that come from being the creator of that song. But - I can feel the emotion within the piece. To me (also a tribute to my Phil 1700 class) that is one of the best definitions of art. Good art, transfers emotion effectively. It doesn't have to be the same emotion intended by the artist, but good art evokes/emits emotion. Some art does it so effectively, that it allows you a healing, emotional release that is also known as catharsis.

Have there been times in your life where you felt like you had true catharsis? Was it brought on by some sort of art - visual, performance, musical... or was is it brought upon by an experience, exercising, a journey, or a moment? Is it something that you can recreate, or is it fleeting?

I have to admit, one time I seriously felt true catharsis was when I went to the chiropractor for the first time. It was after my first bad spell with my back, and no traditional methods were helping me. The first adjustment felt so good/relieved so much pressure, I just began to laugh and look dreamily into the chiropractor's eyes. It was odd... but the combination of stress from feeling ill, and the actual pain of being ill evaporating all at once - and all I could do was laugh.

I'd love to hear your experiences with emotional release - big or small.

x ruined it for y

2007-10-01T07:01:00.000-07:00

UPDATE: STILL TAKING SUBMISSIONS (please)

Often times, someone's iconic usage of a phrase, an object, or a particular element of style can be so powerful that it can never be reproduced again. I guess in some ways it's too bad, because sometimes you'd really like to say "not" after stating something matter of factly, but then the idea of being branded as the "guy who loves 90's witticisms" doesn't sound too appealing.

But there are other examples. For instance, I'd argue that Hulk Hogan ruined the fake tan for every man.

Well... I guess some guys are trying to bring it back:
Note that the fake tan is also accompanied by the integral use of Old Glory, whether it be as a shoulder-draped sash or backdrop piece.

Let's be honest, Hitler ruined the short stubby mustache for any man, and the aggressive hair-part to boot. Some might say, "and it's a good thing he ruined it, that mustache is gross." True, I'm more intrigued by a fuller mustache, but who am I to say how you should groom that fashionable strip of hair on your upper lip? Just as sizes and shapes of faces differ, so should the mustaches that are attached to those faces. Taking away an entire brand of mustache is pretty greedy...

I also think the Wicked Witch of the West ruined bicycles for most people. It's true, we are going through somewhat of a bicycle renaissance, but can you see how long it's taken us to overcome that powerful image of her cackling on her bike, threatening poor Dorothy about her precocious dog?

I mean, not only has she been the antagonists face to PETA, before Michael Vick, it was pretty much her. And she's a bicycle commuter. Those types of images are really tough to overcome. Thanks a lot Witch. Thanks for ruining bikes for everyone.

What about you guys? Who has ruined what for you?

practical jokes

2007-09-20T07:01:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the phrase "practical joke" quite a bit lately. Isn't kind of a dated term - I mean, does anyone even use it any more? Also, what is the difference between a practical joke and a normal joke? Does the term "practical" mean it's like a stunt? In the spirit of staying hip, more modern terms for the practical joke could be "punk'd, or pwned.

Dave at As if you Care is addressing the complex nature of this taxonomy in one of his world class word trees. Go there now.

So, I've got an idea for a "practical joke" for you all to try out. I recently just tried it out with a good measure of success.

Here are the steps:

First, identify a relationship within your family or friends that involves someone you are close to (person A), and then another family member (person B = someone unlikely to have an email account) who is somewhat estranged from person A.

Second, set up an email account under the name of person B.

Third, email person A posing as person B. Content of the email could include - a desire to catch up, birthday, anniversary, or holiday wishes, an invitation to a party, "we're coming into town and need a place to stay", etc.

Fourth, laugh at the fiendishness of your plot.

Fifth, when the story unfolds delightfully in front of you and when you cannot hold the secret to yourself, divulge your true identity and bask in the glory of your deception.

I just did this on my sister where I posed as an Aunt. It was a lot of fun and it was so simple, I thought it was too good of an idea to keep to myself. If you've already done something like this, please share the story.

If you decide to do something like this, please share the results/aftermath here.

Good luck, jokesters.

bikes ok

2007-09-19T08:01:00.001-07:00

There's a great addendum beneath the bus lane signs in downtown Los Angeles that say "bikes ok." They are supposed to indicate that it's permissible for cyclists to use the lane in conjunction with buses.

I think it's kind of funny to read it with different variations of punctuation, because the sign has none. For instance:

bikes, ok?
bikes! ok.
bikes: ok
bikes? ok.
bikes. ok.
bikes^ ok%

Alright, maybe that last one was a bit of a stretch but you can see where I'm going with this.

I haven't taken a picture of them (yet), but once I do I'll use them to alert you guys of when I have a new entry up at the c.i.c.l.e. site (which I do). This one is about bicycle parking at Dodgers stadium. We are actually going to make it an "initiative" with letter writing. I'll keep you guys posted, but in the mean time, if you'd like to read how the whole thing got started, go here. Cheers (you can also leave comments there, and vote it good or bad). In the mean time, please share the road.

dp

a diamond in the... trash

2007-09-17T07:01:00.000-07:00

Oh Lou... in the 90's your career was so bright. You were Richie Valens in La Bamba. You were also Chavez y Chavez in the critically acclaimed Young Guns II.

Where are you now Lou Diamond Phillips? No seriously where are you - your family hasn't heard from you in like 15 years. Fortunately, I heard that you are starring in a b-grade play in a d-grade venue. Shame. You were at the beginning of the entire three-name actor movement. Maybe you even made the whole three name thing cool?

This siting begs several questions, many of which I hope you can answer:
1. How many three named actors/actresses can you name?
2. Where are they (insert any once-famous celebrity) now?
3. Do you think "Diamond" is his real middle name?
4. What is the best Lou Diamond Phillips movie you've ever seen?

An answer to any or all of these questions is of great interest to me.

blowing the whistle... on whistleblowers

2007-09-13T07:01:00.000-07:00

While I was making copies in the office kitchen, I couldn't help but notice the large amount of HR-documentation awarded to "whistleblowers." The documentation noted that there was protection for such conduct and that it was to be encouraged if some sort of malfeasance is going on.

What I want to know is, since when did "blowing the whistle" become correlated with commendable behavior? If it is such a good thing, then why are all the pseudonyms loaded with negative connotations? I think its time for us to start calling whistle-blowers what they really are:

In the clink they are called snitches or rats.
On the street they are called narcs.
On the playground they are called tattle tales.

The thesaurus is a goldmine for alternate names: stoolie, a shill, benedict arnold, judas, stool pigeon, fifth columnist, turncoat, two-timer, snake, fork tongue, weasel, blabbermouth, canary, a sneak, and so on.

I know that in the wake of corporate corruptions ala Enron & Worldcom, blowing the whistle is now in vogue, but would it really be so chic if you were branded as a fifth columnist for the rest of your life?

Ok, bad example, maybe something a little more strong, like a stool pigeon or a Judas.

I think a new breed of people monitoring whistle-blowing should develop, and we should call them recorder blowers. Because everyone knows the shrill sound of a recorder, and we'd all like to hide from the proverbial wrath of hot crossed buns being squeaked out by 3rd grader.

So what's it to you? Are you guys whistle-blowers? Have any of you ever witnessed this diabolical behavior, or fell victim to it?

family ties

2007-09-10T08:01:00.000-07:00

"What'll they do babay, without uuuussss, sha na na naaa."

By now I'm sure most of you have seen the latest trend in family promotion. Most commonly found on minivans or other automobiles capable of lugging a family en masse around. I suppose the idea is to choose a sticker representation of each member of the family. "A scooter for Jimmy. A dolly for Sue (the kind that will even say "how do you do?"). Pets can be included in on the fun. I've seen cats and dogs, maybe even a turtle. I'm sure more obscure family pets like gerbils, guinea pigs, or newts may be hard, but over all I think it's a fun endeavor.

Of course, in this day and age when everyone wants to belong - it poses a problem for those who don't have a family of their own. I mean, does this really look as cool:

Not really. So as a childless man with a lovely wife, let me be the first to say, "come on families, quit being so selfish. We can't all have cool mini-vans and stickers on the back to tout our reproductive fortune!"

Families are pretty great though, and I would (for amusement purposes) like to see other, slightly less-traditional families approach the sticker matter. Like polygamous families:

What kind of fun things can you think up that put a creative spin on family car stickers? What would you put up on your car?

you had to be there - and now you can

2007-09-04T07:01:00.000-07:00

The last couple of weeks have been pretty busy. We've been down to San Diego to visit some friends. We've also entertained family, and then this past week we went up to San Francisco to visit more friends and family. Between me, you, and everyone in cyberspace.... I'm all friends and familied out. Just kidding, it was a lot of fun and there are always amazing things to be seen. Fortunately, in this marvelous world of camera phones, the sting accompanied by the adage of "you had to be there" is quickly mitigated by the ability to capture almost every spontaneous moment. For example:

In San Diego, apparently they are tired of people taking potos with the mask.
I'm not exactly sure what a poto is, but I'll be sure not to do it with a mask on.

In San Francisco I was made keenly aware of the dangers that lie around every corner for those in search of foot-hygiene in public restrooms:
I'm not sure what nasty things lie in wait to attack your feet, but I'm really glad I had that sign to warn me. I don't know about you guys, but it's always my first inclination as soon as I get into a public restroom, to wash my feet in the sink. I have to fight all these crazy urges, but that was one where I thought I could just go about my feet washing and err in ignorance. Apparently, no longer.

Back in the city of Angels, I took my sister, her husband and their daughter to the greatest record store in Los Angeles. Their real treasure isn't their copious amounts of rare CD's, rather, fine cinema for a dollar - for instance:

You'll note that this video once was listed for $29.95 and now was being sold for $1.00 US. I'm no mathematician, but the meteoric descent of this price can only mean exciting things for Gulf War enthusiasts everywhere. You can own the entire collection, today!

Is it just me, or does every "year in sports" video seem more pompous than the next?
I mean seriously, each video presents itself as THE video that must be owned to freeze time, capture sports interest as if it'll never move on. But it does, and when 1993 came around suddenly you are so embarrassed to own 1992 that you find yourself hiding it behind the movies your mom got you from that "family movie" business that never stops sending you wholesome titles like "Benji" or "the Butter Cream Gang."

Ahh, before you were a popular Disney Movie, you were a horrible experiment in late night television:
I mean, I know the woman from Terminator is in it, but seriously, I think that's all the street cred this one had. I remember stumbling upon this bad boy one time when I was younger and being pretty excited that Beauty and the Beast was on TV. I was expecting chubby talking clocks and chandeliers flirting with feather dusters, instead - I got this horribly acted and costumed monstrosity. Literally. And this was on laser disc to boot. Man, I'd love to find out who ends up buying that.

So that's pretty much been the past two weeks. I hope you guys all had a great Labor day and fantastic summer. Any memories you'd like to share?

to kill a blog

2007-08-27T13:33:00.000-07:00

How does one end a blog? Not this one you suckers, my sister site. It was a brief experiment in blogging about bicycles. I have the passion for it, but alas... I do not have the capability to create such content where I can demand such loyal patronage from you all.

I think good blogs need to be updated at least twice a week, or else people start to forget about you.

But David, I really REALLY liked that quaint little bike blog of yours. I would visit but not comment, will you ever write about that stuff again?

That's kind of you to say... but you are lying. However, the answer is yes. I will be contributing to a much nicer, more polished bicycle/advocacy/culture website & organization called C.I.C.L.E. (click on "news & views") I will be writing articles for them every fortnight or so. In fact, my first entry is up right now!

I just wanted to pass on this news (that I'm VERY excited about), and wish you all happy commuting. If you aren't happy with your commute right now, well then you and I should talk.

besos y lagrimas

dp

one man's trash...

2007-08-27T07:01:00.000-07:00

Is another man's change jar... When most people go to throw out the trash, they don't come back with souvenirs to show for it. To my delight, this beautiful empty jug of wine rested before me. I was so excited I snatched that thing up before you could say "copious amount of wine." You see, our current change jar is entirely too small for my vision. Sure, it was only 1/4 full and easily capable of holding a couple dollars worth of change. But my vision for our change jar is so grandiose, only a jug from Carlo Rossi can do.

Who is Carlo Rossi? Well, before I stumbled upon this mammoth change jar, I didn't know either. Apparently he's one of California's finest "table wine" makers around. Don't ask me what table wine is, I've never had a sip in my life. However, I'm so impressed with the presentation of his product that I emulated the proud pose put on every label of Carlo Rossi wine.

My vision of a change jar, ready to be cashed in - includes a great deal of pomp & circumstance. It is an event, and you can bet a Carlo Rossi jug full of change would be so heavy I'd probably need a dolly just to move it from the house to the car, and then a forklift to hoist it up to the Coinstar.

The other really cool thing about the Carlo Rossi website is that includes examples of cool things you can build with your empty jugs. I know what you are thinking, "what else could these jugs be other than an amazing change-collector?"

From the looks of the website, people have built lamps, couches, bookshelves, and all sorts of other really cool looking home-furnishings. The website even tells you how many jugs of wine it will take. Now winos have a new alibi, "no, I'm not a drunk, I'm working on a carlo rossi couch and I'm only 7 jugs short."

So, two questions.

One, when has another man's trash been your treasure?
Two, what on earth would you build with your own collection of Carlo Rossi jugs?

old timey job

2007-08-22T07:01:00.000-07:00

Last quarter I took a seminar on public space. For our last assignment, we were supposed to examine a "crack" in the city of Los Angeles. By definition, a crack is an under-used, misused, or over-looked part of the city that we were supposed to monitor, and then come up with design recommendations on how we'd change the crack in the city. A friend of mine from school and I set our sights on west Los Angeles. Our crack was located at Bundy Avenue and Santa Monica Blvd. Above is what we cooked up.

When we presented our design before the class, the response was really good. So good in fact, our professor encouraged us to present our design before the local beautification committee, which we did.

To make a long story short, the presentation went well - except for this one lady. I don't know who she was, but she wasn't on the board. She was really skinny, tan, wearing lots of jewelry that looked like it was a. homemade and b. bought at ross. Which in and of themselves aren't crimes, I know... but when worn in excess it comes off slightly tacky. She was swimming in her dress, partly because she was so skinny, but also because it was simply too big for her. If she didn't open her mouth, I would've assumed she was just your garden variety, eccentric/bohemian, civicly engaged women. But then she offered advice.

We were already twenty minutes into our presentation, so she really lacked a full perspective as to why we were discussing the space. I was annoyed that mrs. Johnny-come-lately had all these opinions. I thought it was rude. Almost immediately she begins to offer advice as to how we could update our plan to make it more politically palatable. Great idea. Her ideas pretty much revolved around job-creation for LA youth. Wow, this is really good stuff, keep it coming. I mean, who doesn't want youth to have meaningful employment experiences?

For some reason however, the "hypothetical" jobs that would be created by our new program was shoe-making. Seriously, shoe making. She kept on talking about creating jobs, but the only example she ever used (seriously, like five times) was making shoes.

Lady, I hate to break it to you... but the demand for cobblers just isn't what it used to be. Look at your Nikes, Reeboks = made in Indonesia. I mean c'mon, L.A. Gears aren't (weren't) even made in LA.

What time did this woman come from? Did she really think that kids would even be interested in learning how to make shoes? While we are at it... why don't we set up a blacksmithing shop, a fletchery, thatchery, and ever other archaic/outdated vocation we can think of. I'm sure these kids will be in high demand for the renaissance festival circuit, but what about the other 11 months of the year?

This obviously begs the question, if you could be employed doing a job that no longer exists, what would you pick? I think I'd go with alchemist. Or maybe a blood-letter.

hand outs

2007-08-20T07:01:00.000-07:00

I recently saw this poster and was intrigued at the clever double entendre. Sure, it's giving a warning for people to not try to stop the elevator doors from closing. On second glance though, is it also making a statement about what to do when approached by a homeless person?

Perhaps, no? The poster also reminded me of one of my favorite segments in the Onion: Point/Counter Point. Please do yourself a favor and read this article.

I think this raises an interesting question, one that will surely evoke passionate debate from either side of the aisle.

I've heard the arguments about why people don't give "hand outs" to homeless people. "I don't feel comfortable, they're just going to spend it on drugs & alcohol (redundant because alcohol is a drug), I don't want to encourage that type of behavior," etc. Obviously, I don't give money to everyone that asks and a lot of times I do feel uncomfortable when approached, and of course there can be aggressive "pan-handlers" that don't merit your generous alms.

I've heard some people compare the homeless-begging dilemma to pigeons. The reason pigeons have come to expect food (and sometimes become a nuisance when you are eating lunch) is because people give them food. It is a self-propitiating behavior. Some people might argue the reason homeless individuals ask for money is because it works. The argument being, if you didn't feed the pigeons, they'd never expect food. You can see how the argument goes.

Obviously, I think it is a bit base and insensitive to equate people with birds. Real people with real problems - problems so severe they now live on the dangerous streets. Often, not by choice.

The most common rejoinder to the homeless appeal is "why don't they just get a job." True, employment would be a better living that begging. Curious... how do you think your job interview would go if there were no address, no phone number atop your resume. What if you didn't have a place to clean up or clean clothes. You could have the resume of Bill Gates and still wouldn't get hired.

The problem is really complex.

Most of the people who are homeless have mental health problems, as well as drug addictions. In the 80's, a handsome president severely cut funding for mental hospitals nationwide. Mental hospitals no longer had the means to support their tenants, and thus were literally turned to the streets to fend for themselves.

Often times you think, "oh, that could never happen to me." You are probably right, we are very different from most homeless people. The first and most obvious reason is that you and I have a tremendous support network of friends and family who stand between us and the streets. Also, we don't have a mental illness. Although they do say that 1 out of every 4 people is afflicted in some manner.

This issue is often on my mind and its not that I feel like everyone should turn out their pockets for every plea, but rather I think its worth discussing the issue for what it really is - very complex in nature that cannot and should not be dismissed with platitudes that echo of classism and greed.

What do you guys think about the homeless problem in America? How do you come to terms with it?

reunions

2007-08-16T07:01:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I attended my 10 year high school reunion. It was an over-priced affair for services rendered. I would be even more perturbed if I were a drinker, as the cover charge only provided a coupon for two free drinks. By the looks of some of my classmates, their drinking habits haven't really changed since high school.

Smoky Hill High School, class of 1997. The future was so bright. We convened nearly ten years later to relive the memories at a relatively hip LoDo bar owned by the Mayor of Denver, The Wynkoop Brewery. The most oft-repeated phrase of the night was definitely, "this is so weird." Partly uttered due to the fact that there was nothing else to say to strangers that you didn't remember, but also, because it was really weird to be thrown back into a room with people you last associated some of your most cherished, awkward, embarrassing, or devastating moments.

Then you went into the real world and learned how trite all of those experiences were, all things considered.

My reunion wasn't a total success, none of my best friends came, but there was still an all star cast:
My sixth grade girlfriend
Senior year prom date
Catcher from my baseball team (I was a pitcher)
All of the A-group girls
Most of the A-group guys

On the "where are they now" tip, most of the A-group girls had done a proficient job of maintaining their figure... alas, the A-group boys dropped the ball, and their resolve. Lots of extra lbs had been put on. Everyone was super-friendly, and it was definitely flattering and kind to hear "you look great." Not to sound snooty in saying that I "expected" those kind of comments, but when you lose about 60 lbs and when most of your contemporaries are going in the opposite direction (by comparison), it really stands out.

There were the sad tales of divorce and demise. There were surprise pregnancies, marriages, and everything in between.

It's not really satisfying to learn that someone who was the epitome of cool then is a husky bartender now, but tell me that senior year and I'm a happy camper.

I think I'll probably attend future reunions, and going forward I hope some of my better friends decide to attend.

Have any of you guys been to your high school reunions? Any good stories for the rest of us? Were you in better shape 10 years, 20 years later and dying to show off your new bod? Any gossip is good gossip, that's the lowercase numbers motto.

busted.

2007-08-09T07:01:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it's the little kid in us... or me, I don't want to be too presumptious, that takes some sort of delight when another person gets busted. If you click on the image above, you can read the sordid details of the trespasser's affair.

I'm not overly fixated with schadenfreude to find humor in someone trying to print off a personal, 2000 page document at work and then get nailed for it.

At the same time, I don't really take delight in seeing people get pulled over. Everyone knows that sick feeling, so you really don't delight in seeing someone else meet that unfortunate fate. Unless they are driving a Mustang/Hummer or other Testosterone-mobile, then I say = good job Law Enforcement.

In the good spirit of laughing at other's misfortunes, I'm inviting you to share the tales of people getting busted at work, school, or other events. Whether you were privately or publicly amused, I'd love to see these stories so they can be recycled for all of us to read. It's ecological entertainment, recycle, reuse, renew = other's shame.

to get from a. to b.

2007-08-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

You use your feet of course. I found this really cool website called Walk Score that uses Google Maps and their business directories to estimate how walkable your home/community is by locating amenities within a short distance to your home. It tallies the amenities out of a possible one hundred and gives your address a score.

It is a really fun idea and I encourage you all to do it, and maybe surprise yourself at the things you can accomplish without having to use your car.

There are some inherent flaws in the program of course. 1. They rely on the directories from Google to be up-to-date. Second, they measure proximity to amenities “as the crow flies.” It’s not an exact science, but hopefully it will open up your eyes to the money you can save, and the adventures you can have.

There are also some fun features. You can look at the walk score of celebrity houses, such as the Brady Bunch House, or compare the score of the White House (92) to President Bush’s Crawford Ranch (0).

Put in your address and report back your score, or make it really fun and link your house! It would be fun if you wanted to share a story about your walkable community, or the lack thereof.

Here’s my current (and a few previous) addresses:

Los Angeles, California = 60

Alexandria, Virginia = 78

Denver, Colorado = 85

Boulder, Colorado = 82

Shocker, Los Angeles loses. And how about the Mile High City y’all? Mile High fever, catch it!

fun things to do when you are bored

2007-08-02T07:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when you are bored and you have no one else to entertain, you resort desperate measures. Entertaining yourself.

This game involves the men's locker room at work, the same locker room where I found the shampoo of questionable origins. There are about 80 lockers in the locker room, and they are apparently in very high demand. My co-worker Tony has been on the waiting list for a couple of years and he doubts he is any closer. Opponent identified = Locker owners.

Any one will tell you that a good opponent makes for good competition, and hence a good game. Not just any opponent, but an opponent of equal skill and drive. Unfortunately in my case, the locker owners don't exactly know that they are playing a game with me and that makes it slightly less fun, but it's still fun nonetheless.

While I change in the locker room, seething and slightly jealous of the lockers and their owners... I've noticed that the top two lockers, number 79&80, always are set at zero. Now, I suppose that there is a chance that both of their combo's end in zero, which would explain why the dial is always left on that. The other explanation, is that both of the locker owners deliberately set it at zero for some odd reason.

The game I like to play is... both in the morning at the evening, when I see those lockers, I spin the dial. I want them to look at the dial and know that someone was screwing with their locker, heck, maybe even trying to break in. The reason I know this must be annoying is because the dials are always set back at zero. It is a battle of wits, and I shall not be defeated. I really like the idea of my harmless shenanigans really getting under their skin. The more I do it, the more I'm amused.

A particularly charming thing I found out about Ashley is that she likes to pick fights when she gets bored. Not bitter, shouting match type of fights. The kind of fights that get started with a flick of the ear, a pinch, or... a bratty/challenging/competitive remark. It's really funny when I don't see it coming, and even funnier when I realize what she's up to.

So let's hear it guys. What do you do to entertain yourself when you are bored? Pick fights, have epic yet anonymous/incognito battles with co-workers? I think we all get bored from time to time and could use a few pointers to more adroitly fritter away our most idle of moments.

whitney houston was right... again.

2007-07-31T07:01:00.000-07:00

You know, there's not a day that goes by where the wise words of Whitney don't come to mind at one point or another. One line, in particular as I saw this ad:

If I fail, if I succeed, They can't take away my dignity

I'm not sure if she failed, or if she succeeded, But I think Los Angeles took away LA Errand Girl's dignity. LA does funny things to people. It can convince them that they need to get their toes cosmetically fixed, it can make you believe that you are the next Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolerr (sic), or it can convince you that bicycling 28 miles a day is a better way to get to/from work than stuck in a gas guzzling-money pit.

I was struck by the services offered by the "LA Errand" girl. She's "not too busy to do the things you are too busy to do." Are you too busy to feed your cat, or walk your dog? Then why the hell did you get a pet? The errand girl will not only go grocery shopping for you, she'll buy presents for your loved ones. She'll even pick up some spare reems of paper for you. What a bargain right?

Now I want to ask you this... do you really want to do those types of chores for someone else? Typically, the things you don't have "time" to do are slightly more unpleasant than gift shopping. She might be offering to do things as benign as buying a unicorn paper weight for your office, but before you know it she's shoveling dog poop, cleaning out your septic tank, and unclogging the wookie-esque clogs in your drain.

It's a slippery slope of self-degradation, be warned LA Errand girl. My errand girl or boy (I'm an equal opportunity employer) would keep my bike oiled and running in good shape. I'd have the errand person remind me to pay my bills, and get my oil changed in my car for me. Other than that, I don't really think I'd need them that often. With the popularity of Personal Assistants here in Los Angeles, I think the demand makes for the abundant supply.

If you had an errand girl/boy, what types of things would you have her do?

disturbing images

2007-07-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have moments where the site of something really creeps you out.... you know, to the point where you feel that by sheer virtue of your casual glance you have just defiled your whole being? Ever?

I had one of these moments the other day, in the men's locker room of course. And lets face it, the men's locker room has a corner on the "disturbing images" market. Fortunately, this experience did not involve an aged gentleman strutting around naked as a jaybird. The locker room has four individual showers (which really look like walk-ins sans tub that you'd see in any home, not the typical "full frontal exposure"/communal showers most locker rooms are equipped with) adjacent to the lockers, and they are divided by a wall next to the sinks and toilets, etc. As I go into the changing area, I gaze down at the floor and see the sickest site I've seen in a long time. Mane & Tail Shampoo?

So freaking gross. The thought of some hairy dude from IT scrubbing himself in a thick lather of horse-shampoo immediately attacked my conscious thought. Yes yes... apparently they make grooming products for humans as well as equines, but I'm pretty sure that was the equine-version. Even still, why would you ever trust your hair with a company that is trying to corner both horse grooming and human grooming. I say focus on one market, and don't mingle the two. Please.

Any sickos out there willing to stand up for this gross product, I'm all ears. When was the last time you were attacked by a disturbing image?

to my readers: a challenge

2007-07-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite lines from A Christmas Story is during the Schwartz/Flick duel at the flag pole, where the narrator says "Schwartz created a slight breach of etiquette by skipping the triple dare, and going right for the throat!"

I'm skipping the triple dare, and going right for the throat. I don't know if you've noticed or not by now, but I'm working on another blog (still finding its own voice, I admit) that discusses my experience and adventures in commuting to work by bike. If you'd like to check in, go here.

Anyway, a while back on my blog I alluded to the fact that I was going to challenge all those tuning into lowercase numbers to do something. Now fortunately for you, this isn't too difficult. However, I should mention that at first there may be some growing pains, not exactly the Alan Thicke type either

Did you know that 80% of trips made by car are less than 5 miles from the home?

My challenge to you is to examine a two mile radius around your domicile and identify one errand... one simple, measly errand that you would normally use your car to travel to, and get there using alternate transportation. Bus, train, bike, feet, rickshaw, even take a page out of Dr. Suess's book and go by zike-bike or a crunk-car. (Yes, you read that right. Dr. Suess coined the term "crunk" long before Lil Jon got in on the action)

"The time has come. The time is now. Please go. Please go now."

There are a million reasons to expand our thinking on how we complete our errands, pick whatever you find particularly moving. Environmental conscience, health reasons, economics. Whatever. I'm asking you to do this not only because it's probably the right thing to do, I also think it will be really fun. Just one errand, one time, that you'd normally do by car.

And then... report back. If you are so inclined, blog about it. Post it on your own, or take some pictures and send them to me. I'd be more than happy to help you in this task.

My world has been opened to so many adventures and people because I've significantly decreased my dependency on a car. I'm not asking you to bomb Exxon or become a tree-sitter (yet), I just want to send you a cordial invitation to take a little urban adventure, and then share your experience with the rest of us.

If you can't take pictures, perhaps you could track your adventure on gMaps Pedometer and show us the route you took. For example, this is my route to/from work.

You may be pleasantly surprised and could find yourself doing more errands by your new mode of transportation. You may not be fully ready to incorporate it into your lifestyle yet. I understand. Just this once, I want you to take an adventure and share your findings with the rest of us. No detail is too small, no fact is insignificant. So get out those zike-bikes and hit the streets!

Good luck... your brother on the bike,

David

creatures of the likes ye have never seen, guatemala pt. 3

2007-07-17T07:01:00.000-07:00

You might consider yourself a pretty tough individual, and I will conceded that is a pretty easy thing to do in the USA. See, we don't have too big of a problem with dangerous creatures (for the most part). Sure, we have a couple of spiders and rattle snakes here and there, but I'd say its pretty easy to avoid them. In Guatemala, they find you:

Careful Chris... want a closer look?

Yikes

Not the famous Quetzal Bird, but an imitator

Spider Monkey

Scorpion

Tarantula, siting #2

Huge Cricket

So guys, what's your scariest encounter with a wild animal? I have to admit, the tarantulas were the most unsettling.

retirement, guatemala style

2007-07-12T07:01:00.000-07:00

Where do you want to go when you retire? For me, I think I'd like to waste my days in comfortable jumpsuits, asking for senior discounts, matinees, reading copies of AARP magazine and readers digest. I'll criss-cross the nation on a huge RV en route to visiting my grandchildren, infuriating all who are unfortunate enough to fall behind me. I'll have a steady supply of virgin pina coladas and will become intimately acquainted with the menus at Denny's, Village Inn, Coco's, IHOP, Marie Calendars, and Shoney's.

For others, retirement isn't so glamorous.

Have you ever wondered what happened to the school buses that faithfully escorted you to and fro every day? They deserve a break, a good retirement right? The big yellow darlings with the brown or green vinyl bench seats were a place where jokes were told, snacks exchanged and crushes born. These vehicles are replete with memories when they are graciously given retirement.

What I found out when I went to Guatemala was that "retirement" for school buses does not mean sipping chilled drinks and shuffleboard, but in fact a new coat of paint, extra chrome and a woman's name. Behold - Norma:

These school buses-reincarnate come to Guatemala battered and beaten, no doubt decoupaged with big league chew and trace elements of spitballs. They are refurbished, tricked out with chrome, ladders, luggage racks... and that's not it. They handle like rally cars.

We took one of these buses, often dubbed "chicken buses" for the likelihood of the occupants to share their seat with live poultry. We were crammed into the bus, and fortunately for most Guatemalans (being short in stature), this isn't a problem. But for grande Americanos this poses a bit of discomfort. Ashley was sitting across the isle from me when a man sitting next to her chuckled in my direction and said, "he doesn't fit."

On the particularly hilly journey from Antigua to Guatemala City, I was impressed with the way our chicken bus handled on the tight mountainous turns while going uphill. The driver was pushing that old school bus to the limits. It was seriously awesome. During the ride I looked to the front of the bus and noticed that the little sign said that "this Bluebird Bus was built in Buena Vista, Virginia."

I wondered if the people who built that bus knew one day it would be careening through the mountains of Guatemala carrying people and poultry, alike. Moral of the story, you never know where you are going to end up.

Where would you like to be when you retire?

your hope is my compromise - guatemala pt. 1

2007-07-09T07:01:00.000-07:00

Don't ask me what it means, I just know that it works for the Guatemalans. It's probably safe to say that much was lost in my transliteration. We've now been home for the better half of a week and I'm starting to reflect on the various facets of Guatemalan culture. One element that immediately drew me in was the fact that it was campaign season. As a foreigner who didn't speak the native language, I was still able to become acquainted with the different candidates because of their HUGE billboards posted everywhere. Some of them were downright hilarious. Not in a condescending "look, how quaint, central American politics" kind of way, but a "man, the imagery here is amazing." Guys with wry/stoic faces, each trying to look more macho than the next. I did you all a huge disservice by not taking as many pictures of these as possible, but here is an example of one of them:

My favorite poster (and hence candidate) is the representative from the GANA party, Alejandro Giammattei. I'm kicking myself for not getting a picture of it, but he was triumphantly pointing to the sky with his index finger to indicate that he's number one. Fortunately for me (and you) the "point" seems to be an integral part of his campaign strategy, check it out:

I also kind of like this guy because according to an article I read, he's trailing behind three other candidates, so he's totally the Dennis Kucinich of Guatemala. Finally, I think he may have a slight walking disability because I noticed on his intense commercial that he had one of those canes with an extension that attaches to the forearm. If he plays that card right, he can work the whole FDR/Tiny Tim thing... just playing Alejandro, I know your El Jefe.

All joking aside, it was interesting to note that all of the presidential candidates pictured on the billboards and fliers were fairer skinned. Guatemalans cover the entire spectrum of skin tone, but as I was told skin tone is often commensurate with class distinction. The affluent tend to be fairer skinned, and vice versa. It is more desirable to be fairer skinned, and the indigenous roots of the country are often thought of as primitive and second class. A real shame.

The final element of Guatemalan political campaigns that fascinated me was their resourcefulness in advertising. I'm guessing many of you have never considered the potential of rocks in advertising. The Guatemalan parties paint their party logos on rocks up and down the streets and highways. Even in the most remote parts of the jungle roads we'd see rocks painted with various insignias. Doves, Clenched Fists, Targets... It is very interesting. At first I thought "what a waste of time," but upon further reflection I decided that it was a way for the parties to show that they care about the welfare of every Guatemalan, regardless their location. Here's a short video I took of some of the rocks painted along the road. Warning, the bus was moving fast so you'll have to pause it to slow it down. Note, you'll see 3-4 different parties over the stretch of 100ft or so.

I'd love some attention like that. These days, in the states, it seems like unless you are in a state that hosts an early primary or a swing state, you'll get no attention at all. If you are lucky, maybe you'll get the VP for 15 minutes at a local Starbucks or during a layover. No offense to South Carolina, New Hampshire and Iowa, but I really don't think that those states are any more qualified than the other 47 states to decide our candidates.

Guatemala seems to do the proportional representational system. This means that whatever percentage vote a party gets at the national level, they are then entitled to that percentage representation at the legislative/parliamentary level. It would be refreshing to see some smaller parties get representation in the US congress, especially if that is what the citizenry wanted.

That being said, we saw a statue in Coban (a town in Northern Guatemala) of a man in shackles that was dedicated to "the cause of freedom and liberation." It was dated in the late 70's. Despite the qualms you may have with our country or the leaders thereof, it still remains a place where personal liberty and justice abound. In other words, our hope is their compromise... ; )

gone fishin'

2007-06-25T09:01:00.000-07:00

Hey readers. Tonight Me, Ashley, her sister & husband are headed to Guatemala. I've never been any place in the world remotely like this, so I'm really excited for a new adventure. And by new adventure, I mean = diarrhea.

I'll be gone for a week, but rest assured they'll be plenty of tales to tell and blogs to blog. Have a great week. Have a happy 4th of July.

in honor of an old friend

2007-06-21T07:01:00.000-07:00

So check this out. I went to high school with a guy who is now in med school, and saved his own life by listening to his heart and diagnosing himself with an irregular heartbeat. Crazy huh?

Check out the "heartwarming" story here. Beware, horrible pun by the newscaster at the end of the story. Worse than mine.

In an honor to an old friend, I present for your review, a mellow-number that I really enjoy by Jose Gonzales. It is aptly named, Heartbeats.

Also, this is a lesson to all of you that you can never be too proactive about your health. Get ready, with the summer months now well underway I'm getting ready to challenge you all to something monolithic and to report back on it. Brace yourselves.

movie round up

2007-06-19T08:01:00.000-07:00

Last weekend Ashley and I saw Ocean's 13. Fantastic. The entire movie was a delight to watch. Brad Pitt and George Clooney again display their excellent chemistry. Scott Kahn and Casey Affleck (the Mormon twins) provide an excellent comedic relief as they start a zapata-inspired labor dispute. Andy Garcia is back, as well as a new and adroit villain, Al Pacino... playing a conniving business partner. Revenge, laughs, easy to digest.... lots of fun at the theatre. Definitely see it.

And way better than Ocean's 12. Kind of a disappointments, I'm not going to lie.

And dusting off an old classic from the shelves, I thought I'd remind you of this gem:
A star studded cast, and when I say star studded, I mean... it's got the dude who was a hobit in LOTR, and also Rudy. No, not Charlie from Lost. No, not Elijah Wood. You know... the "mr. frodo..." one. He was also Mikey in Goonies, perhaps his best role. In Toy Soldiers, gone is the mikey-from-gooonies pre-pubescent charm, as he plays the versatile, dare I say... "groundbreaking" role of the kid who's been kicked from reform school to reform school.

Best line of the the movie: "No, you don't understand, these boys have a real problem with authority"

It's also got Will Wheaton in it. Name doesn't ring a bell? You might know him for his work as Ensign Crusher, son of Dr. Beverly Crusher on Star Trek the Next Generation. That not doing anything for ya? Well, he also played a talented writer in embryo with a penchant for finding dead bodies, aka - Gordie Lachance in Stand By Me. Still not chomping at the bit to rent this one? Fine... how does an academy award sound?

Well, Toy Soldiers didn't win an academy award... but the film's firm-but-fair principal, Louis Gosset Jr. won an oscar for actor in a supporting role in an Officer and A Gentleman.

Toy Soldier's fools.

We also saw the Wendell Baker Story a couple of weeks ago. This film represents the maiden voyage for Luke Wilson's career as a writer. I hate to tell you, but the wilson-ship tanked worse than Dana Carvey's solo career. (lifetime sidekick, yes. Star, no mas). The Wendell Baker story was proof-positive that the Wilson Brothers, left to their own devices make absolutely crappy movies. It was a mishmash of a bunch of funny ideas, that lost their punchline when all scrambled together. The Wilson brothers are certainly charming and fun to watch on the big screen, but should stick to acting and give writing/producing the ole heave-ho!

In other disappointments = Blades of Glory. I love Will Ferrel more than anything, but his latest efforts and their subsequent mediocrity are only indicative that he needs to be bridled, badly. When he goes from being an excellent side dish, to the main course, you find that you've had too much of him, and its only 20 minutes into the movie. It's like going from eating two BIG scoops of ice cream, to eating a whole gallon tub. At first its awesome, but then you realize the commitment you've made and you begin to dread each bite. He wasn't that funny in Blades of Glory or Talladega Nights. I could've been just as happy watching the previews a couple of times, because those were the only really funny lines anyway.

Will's career could be similar to Adam Sandler. A SNL alum/sucess. Sandler started out hot but then got involved in things like Little Nicky and you are saying to yourself, "man, I just want to see him do the Gap Girl. It was really refreshing to see him take on more complex roles in films like Punch Drunk Love, and Spanglish.

Perhaps Will is on the right track with projects like Stranger than Fiction. That was pretty entertaining.

That's the latest movie round up. Have you guys seen, or rented any "must see" movies lately? Ashley went commando on our Blockbuster queue and I need some good recommendations to balance out a very soviet-heavy list of movies. (just kidding honey, I love you).

But seriously, tell me about some good movies I need to see, thanks guys.

the cell phone clip is the poor man's pocket

2007-06-14T13:01:00.000-07:00

Ok, here's the deal guys. And when I say guys, I mean that literally, because I don't see women doing this. This may be attributed to several factors, namely, their belts are either too thin or too thick to support a pda/phone, but more likely they have the common sense not to do this type of thing.

What's the deal guys? Do you really need to adorn yourself with your pda and or phone? They were never meant to be fashion accessories. And I honestly don't believe you if you think that wearing it on your belt, where it can be knocked off, scratched, dinged, or impale you if you bend the wrong way... is easier than keeping it in your pocket.

Put it in your pocket. No one wants to see it. Look at the guy on the right, he clearly has plenty of room in his white jumpsuit for a phone/pda, but if he adorned it on the exterior it would completely ruin the whole space man/german techo vibe he's got going on. Note the hand of the man on the left has a wedding ring. His wife needs to call him out on that.

I have a new rule, the only way you can keep it on your belt is if you are willing to use it like this:

I'd love to see someone constantly scribbling to the side of their hip. There's no way you'd ever be able to A. read what you've written from that distance or B. maneuver around the interface with icons the size of salt granules.

I have to give my buddy Craig a shout out for the idea for this blog. He mentioned how once you become thirty, you kind of have to do this type of thing. He said that he would never do it. As sort of a thank you, I found a cover for his pda that mirrors his political/historical-agenda. You are welcome in advance, buddy.

becoming your parents, it's not so bad

2007-06-11T07:01:00.000-07:00

It's beyond me how a movie with the tagline "where modern creations meets family relations" wasn't nominated for some kind of award. Why there wasn't absolute pandemonium surrounding this movie seems so unexplainable. The word "injustice" comes to mind... what does it take to appease the academy?

Anywho.

The years my parents toted me around and I was old enough to be cognizant of it, probably spanned the grades of 5-8. Most of the trips were baseball practice and games, to friends houses for sleepovers, or tagging along on trips to the grocery store and what not. If memory serves me correctly, every single trip began with the "bom bam bom bum bom bam bum bom" trumpety + french horn + tromboney chime that lets every one know it's about time for All Things Considered, NPR's evening news program. Every time.

That opening tune represented all things uncool and boring to me. Listening to news in the car? Come. on. Mom. Mom, do you know how bad I want to listen to Denver's Top 40, KS104? (sadly, defunct) When I got my car, I swore revenge on NPR and every boring radio program that threatened my cool lifestyle. Most of all, I swore I... would never listen to NPR.

Call it maturing, call it becoming interested in the world. Call it turning into your parents. But now, like most people my age, I love NPR. Ashley and I listen to it every morning as we get ready and love it. My last two local NPR stations (KRCC & KCRW) play/ed some of the best music I've ever heard on the radio. Amazing taste.

I remember either junior or senior year in high school thinking I had amazing taste in men's fashion. I also thought it was funny to pick on my Dad. Well, I still do, but back then I had no idea what I was talking about when it came to offering fashion tips. My dad has a pair of old, loved, well-worn yet also very well maintained Clark Wallabees. I thought they were the ugliest shoes man had ever designed. To me, you might as well have been walking with an actual wallaby fashioned to your feet. I professed my disdain for my dad's shoes, to which he laughed at my pitiful critique and told me that one day I'd change my mind.

That day did come, on my mission in England (home of Clarks) I finally saw the beauty of the shoes. The brits love them some Clarks, that's for sure. I still really REALLY like the shoes, I've been coveting some dark brown suede wallabees for a while now.

Point being, I think we turn into our parents. I mean, I'm not securing boxes of ice cream with rubber bands like my dad has a penchant for, but I could be on my way.

Do you guys have any examples of how you are becoming more like your parents?

wendsdee [sic] music

2007-06-06T10:01:00.000-07:00

Thanks for all of your expressed concern about my back. The whole medical procedure was a really weird experience, with some parts of it being downright surreal. IE, when the doctor put on Justin Timberlake's sexy back and asked, "do you like Justin Timberlake?"

What red blooded american doesn't?

Of course I appreciated the good pun, excellently delivered in song form. Sexy back - back surgical procedure... me lying on the bed with my bare-back exposed, anyone?

Although, it is interesting to question the methodology employed here. I mean, do other surgeons play contemporary top-40 music in their OR's? If I had some doctors as regular readers perhaps they'd chime in on the matter.

It could've been worse, he could've put on some Cannibal Corpse or Slipknot... if that happened I'd run out of that room bare-bottomed, no doubt.

Anywhoo. Here's a song from a guy who's been on heavy rotation since last summer. He's sort of a Bob Dylan-y type, kind of interesting voice but great song writer. Give M. Ward a try. His latest album Post-War is absolutely a masterpiece.

the name game

2007-06-04T07:01:00.000-07:00

I have no idea who the hell Rick Parfitt is, and we aren't playing his version, but some friends and I discovered a fun little game and I knew I had to get you guys in on the action. A better question is, why does Rick Parfitt look like Owen Wilson? Ironic that the Name Game founder is Rick. I digress...

Anyway, here's the deal. Friday night we were cruising around with our friends whilst simultaneously involved in our favorite thing to do on the first Friday of every month. In LA. On the Westside. Involving bikes... that is.

I don't know how it started, but I believe I asked Sean and Chad which male first name had the most derivatives to it. As an example:

-> William
-> Willy
-> Will
-> Bill
-> Billy

So William has four derivatives, for a total of five. That's really good right? A very versatile name. Mine is slightly less versatile:

-> David
-> Dave
-> Davey

Name derivatives were immediately disqualified if they were slang or too knick name based, the rule (I decided) was that you had to be willing to put it on top of your resume. So Davey Crockett doesn't count, nor do alternate spellings.

We concluded (somewhat hastily) that Richard was the king of male derivatives, check it out:

-> Richard
-> Rich
-> Richie
-> Rick
-> Ricky
-> Dick

That's a total of six with five derivatives. It gets bumped up to seven if you count Dickie. What, it's not just a fashionable false shirt. Don't believe me? Tell that to 1983 All Star Shortstop Dickie Thon. If he was man enough to go by Dickie, then I say it counts.

-> Dickie

No, we didn't count Ricardo because we decided that ethnic derivatives were also disqualified. Ethno-centric? Perhaps, but it's our game so we can do whatever we dang well please.

So my friends and readers... I ask you this? Can you beat Richard as the king of name-derivatives?

Also up for debate, the queen of name derivatives. We spent most of the time on men's names, so I'm happy to have your votes for women's names as well.

Come one, come all, even if you can't beat seven you should list the ones you can think of.

a song a day keeps the doctor away... unless you have two herniated discs

2007-05-30T08:33:00.000-07:00

Today I'm going under the knife. Well, there's probably not going to be any knives involved, but more likely some elephantine needles. I'm a little nervous about it, but more excited to see if the procedure helps.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share one of my favorite songs with you. At your convenience, please give this song by the Magnetic Fields a spin. Have a great Wednesday.

prom - i want the dirty dirty

2007-05-25T07:01:00.000-07:00

For those of you who've been frequenting my blog for a while know of my penchant for stories. It is often hard to think of topics that will illicit good stories. Some have been monumentally successful (in my opinion), the neighbors one comes to mind, also the wedding stories.

I guess a lot of it depends on your mood, because when you ask for a story, you guys really need to be in the mood to type something out. Sometimes its not convenient, and then you forget about it right? I understand. Anyways... I was in downtown Los Angeles the other day on a field trip for my class on public space. We were taking a tour titled "the privatization of public space" as we went and visited office plazas that are simulated public space, but in reality are private property. So anyway, someone mentions how they went to prom at one of these buildings and then for the rest of the field trip we were all talking about our proms, and the light bulb went on.

Prom. Freaking Prom.

If there aren't some good stories out there about prom, then I don't know if life is worth living.

I'll give you an account of my two proms. Names have been changed to assure anonymity. Although, now that I think about it both of my dates deserve to be exposed.

First off, let me extend this biographical caveat. In high school, I was a husky fellow. Not morbidly obese, but definitely "jolly." To make up for my less than svelte physique, I compensated with sarcasm & wit. The jury is still out on how well that worked. Point being (and due to the physically minded nature of high school kids), the girls weren't banging down the door to be my boyfriend. Friends, sure. Secret lovers, no mas.

Junior year I went with a sophomore we shall call Brenda. A friend of a friend told me that Brenda wanted to go to prom with me. Odd, considering I didn't know her. But hey, what the hell, she has great taste in men so who am I to argue? At this juncture, I had not kissed a girl nor held hands nor engaged in any other delightful treats of physical romance enjoyed by my contemporaries. So the fact that a girl wanted to go with me made her pretty much a lock. Didn't matter that I had never seen her nor heard of her. I didn't particularly care that she was a sophomore and using my elevated class rank to pull her into an exclusive event (only juniors and seniors could invite someone to prom). So, I eventually met up with Brenda after baseball practice one day and she seemed to be alright. Tall. Blonde hair. Athletic build. Why not? She kind of had janky teeth, but hey... I'm no AC Slater either ok so we're good to go.

The cool thing about the night is that my buddy travis lived next door to a guy who owned a limo company, so we got a limo for FREE. The part of the story that'd neglect to mention if I were trying to impress you is that the limo was from 1985 at best so we looked like freaking miami vice rolling around the suburbs of Denver. Who cares, a limo is a limo right?

We ate at some swanky steakhouse called the Aurora Summit. I learned that night why people can pay a lot of money for a good steak. I had a t-bone that was out of this world. It was literally like a party in my mouth and everyone was invited. If I would've known that the $35 t-bone was going to be the highlight of my evening, I would've quit then.

The actual prom was fine. We danced. I had to dance with her the whole time. Oh wait, I'm forgetting two important things.

Before prom, I made two distinct gestures that would simultaneously highlight the seriousness of my courting-intentions and would underscore my qualifications as a suitor. One, a plastic covered rose that I bought with my lunch money from 7-11. Two, I took her to see every one's favorite Steve Martin Movie... wait for it... wait for it...

Sgt. Bilko.

That is seriously one of the most embarrassing things I've ever confessed on this blog.

Ok, back to prom. Nothing happened. We went to after-prom, a party put together by parents at the high school offering fun, sober alternatives to fornication and debauchery. Everyone makes an appearance, and then goes to the hotel rooms everyone manages to acquire. We went to my friend Dan's house where Wen... I mean Brenda proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the night. Here I was, the perfect gentleman and suitor. Offering you roses, fine cinema, and steaks... and all I get is the cold shoulder. Little did I know, that I would become intimately acquainted with the "ignore" tactic a year later.

Senior year I was smitten. I was harboring a hardcore crush on a girl who had slipped completely under the radar. This... was mature love (I thought). Let's call her Delores. Delores was a silent assassin. She was way smart. She was a good person (volunteered with the disabled students), she was the star volleyball player. She was a tall (6'0") girl with a solid athletic build. Despite her amazing CV, she was not a girl of particular high social status, nor charm to the rest of the school. I thought my tastes were so refined, so mature... Not only was I maybe in love with Delores, I was in love with the idea of being in love with Delores.

By senior year I had climbed the ranks of high school popularity to somewhat of a seasonal celebrity. I had asserted myself as the most obnoxious, loud, and abrasive fan during the basketball, football, and (later) volleyball games. Half of the fun of it for me, was trying to make everyone else in the crowd laugh at my jokes. My quasi-celebrity status gave my husky frame a well deserved ego boost. Delores and I became friends... as she became acquainted with my antics at the games. She started attending the other games at my side... and I could feel that she liked being so close to the center of attention. We quickly became very good friends, and after that it was only a matter of time before we were hanging out after school.

The winter sports season came and went (basketball, volleyball) and next came spring sports. That was the only season I played anything, but it was my bread and butter, baseball. The baseball team at our high school was clearly the class of the athletics program, as we were a continual favorite to progress to the finals. One day (several weeks before the prom asking season) before baseball practice, I unloaded the burden of my love-torn soul on Delores. I told her, "Delores, I'm crazy about you." Delores was the first girl I had ever confessed such feelings for.

I don't remember what happened after that, but I remember not feeling any different. I asked Delores to prom, she said yes... and I was ready for my date with destiny. Senior prom was so much better because I was with all of my best friends and all of our dates were friends, if not congenial with one another. We went to some expensive hotel. Can't remember what we had. It wasn't that good. Our prom was held at the Natural History Museum in Denver. A really cool venue. We sang and danced and had a great time. Little did I know that my date with Delores was about to take a turn for the Mr Hyde route.

The after-prom was a mere formality. Fun, but everyone wanted to go to the hotel. I had no plans of debauchery or drunken hi-jinks. Rather, I was looking to laugh with my friends and maybe get a smooch from a slightly less inhibited/alcohol-enabled Delores. No dice. Not only was she Mr. Hyde, but she was Colonel Stonewall Jackson. Delores ignored me the entire night. Like, seriously ignored. She got drunk, so ignored her. The rest of the night is kind of a blur, but I remember an awkward group breakfast at Village Inn after which I dropped Delores off. When I dropped her off, she felt at liberty to tell me that she was interested in a SENIOR in college, apparently, they met when we were freshmen and he was a senior. What a freaking loser. However, she did also mention that she didn't know where things were going with them , and implied that if I were to wait around that maybe something could develop between her and I. Please. I may have been no cassanova, but I know when I'm being offered a first class seat in the sloppy seconds-express. Nobody puts Davey in a corner.

It made me feel really used, like Sar, I mean, Delores probably wouldn't have gone to prom if I hadn't asked her. I was really angry. This anger, fueled me to do some really dumb things. Which I'll address at another time. I've bloviated long enough on this subject. It would've been fun to go with just a girl friend, someone who would've laughed till her face turned red at all of my jokes. That's all that I wanted. That, and maybe a good night kiss.

So let's hear your prom stories. Good or bad, long or short. Let's do this.

renaissance man

2007-05-23T10:01:00.000-07:00

I'm really branching out here at lowercase numbers... first it was mp3's, and now videos. Who knows what's next? A scrolling marquee. The sky is the limit really.

I stumbled across this gem and wanted to share it with you. The video is cool, but the song is even better. It's the latest offering from every one's favorite indie-darling, Jason Schwartzman. His new band is called Coconut Records and the song is called West Coast (available on iTunes). I think they have a delightful little sound. Check it out:

the "awesome david"

2007-05-22T07:01:00.000-07:00

The other day I was thinking about having an invention named after me, and how if I was going to pick any adjective to precede my name, I wouldn't want it to be "lazy."

Was Susan a really sluggish, slothful woman? So much so that a friend took pity on her and fashioned a little turnstyle to ease her labored reach?

Maybe Susan had a really great sense of humor about herself. She dreamed of days when she wasn't bogged down with having to look at the back of the pantry, when she could find what she was looking for immediately, without having to spend three seconds looking for it. The fetters of wasted seconds have literally been eradicated from Susan, bless her heart for it. A time-saving visionary!

If I ever invent something that saves time and becomes as commonplace as the lazy Susan, I'm going to call it the Awesome David. The Awesome David would... automatically gather the slack on loose cords from various appliances and wrap them up, and then bind them with a twisty tie of a matching color. It'd probably be about the size of an iron, I'd guess. It would be so awesome, because you'd never see unsightly cords any more, just cute little bundles wrapped up with a twisty tie of corresponding hue? Isn't that awesome?

If you could invent something to use around the house and then give it a sweet name, what would you create?

what to expect when you're expecting... a large needle in the back

2007-05-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

One of the "oft-repeated" phrases employed by my older brother is "walk a mile in my shoes." He usually says this in (in jest) to our unsympathetic ways toward his moderate genetic disorder. Good thing he doesn't want to be a pilot.

The point of using this phrase, is to imply that without going through specific life-experiences, it is difficult to posses empathy for others. Well, in a wonderfully ironic twist of fate, I'm following a path trod only by the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his groundbreaking work, Junior.

No, I'm not exactly getting pregnant. But I am getting an epidural. Apparently, they aren't just for women about to give birth, but they have therapeutic benefits for those suffering with herniated discs. Ok, technically I'm getting an epidural steroid injection, but its still an epidural right? Not only will I be one step closer to walking in the shoes of pregnant women on the cusp of mind-torching pain, but I'll also be blitzed with a drug probably used by my one of childhood heroes at the zenith of his career. Thanks Warrior.

Empathy is an interesting thing, because in someways there is a "walk a mile in my shoes" element to it. This makes empathy a pretty powerful, and admirable trait to possess.

What I'm wondering, is what unique life-experiences have qualified you to be empathetic? Now that I'll be joining the ranks of pregnant women everywhere, I'm feeling pretty confident in my ability to bridge the gap that only the governor of California has previously done.

new song for wendesday...

2007-05-16T07:01:00.000-07:00

Due to the outcry of my relative "soft" taste for music, I give you my latest offering. I make no apologies for my "sensitive" side, every one knows I'm a tender man. But hey, who am I to turn away my fans who like it a little more aggro.

Yeah, that's right, I used aggro. When's the last time you heard that bad boy? Dusted it off the shelf from 1988 just for you.

Here's a lovely little track from a band called the Archie Bronson Outfit. Great name, great sound. and Harsh brotha.

Give it a listen and report back. Straight from the motherland to your ears.

moons over my happiness

2007-05-14T07:01:00.000-07:00

A few years back, two of my brothers and I went on a road trip through the midwest. We called it our "comprehensive Midwest tour," covering the states of Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois and Missouri. One of the nights in Illinois we discovered a truly horrible show, Cheaters. It was like a train-wreck... a train-wreck of lewd, trashy, infidelity packaged just so that made it impossible to turn the channel. We simply couldn't help ourselves.

A couple of years later, my brothers and I found ourselves in fortunate circumstances - living together in a house in downtown Denver. Of the many memorable events that took place there, some that stick out to me were the very simple traditions we had. Going grocery shopping and playing the price is right with the bill, we always joked that whoever bid the closest without going over wouldn't have to pay that week. Inevitably, someone would bid one dollar. Just like the real show. Everyone paid. Andrew usually bid the closest.

Another one of my favorite traditions was our weekly viewing of Cheaters. Sunday nights at ten, or ten thirty. Honestly, this show represents the absolute dregs of reality television. Publicly viewing people's infidelities and the unraveling of people's lives/relationships... with commercial breaks. It probably doesn't get any worse, yet we watched it. Like deer in headlights... headlights of betrayal.

One of the finer aspects of the show was the smooth host, Joey Greco. He actually got stabbed once! My older brother didn't believe that he was tough, and I loved to claim that Joey could take him in a fight. "Don't let that leather-blazer and mock turtleneck fool you," I'd say, "he's as tough as nails." He hated that.

We became so calloused to the show that we started picking up on behavioral patterns. One of the amazing trends we observed is that people who like to cheat on their significant others, like to take their new flame out to dinner. That's not a grand revelation, I know. BUT, Not only do they like to eat out, but they like to eat out at Denny's. I wonder what it is about the place, perhaps its late hours of operation? Discount prices? Toy-claw machine in the lobby?

If you are not familiar with the format of Cheaters, I'll lay it out for you, don't worry, it's really simple. A concerned party approaches cheaters staff. The staff then follows the subject in question. When sufficient evidence has been obtained through clandestine surveillance, there arises the confrontation. After the confrontation and all parties involved have been sufficiently humiliated via TV into the homes of adoring brothers, the case is closed.

I would say that over the course of our steady diet of Cheaters, roughly a third of the Cheaters took their new romance to Denny's at least once during the surveillance period, and then during the confrontation, about two thirds of them took place at Denny's. Of course, this isn't advertised, as the Cheaters narrator says "at a local restaurant," and the sign is blurred out as if Denny's were in the witness protection program. But who are they kidding? We all know that one of a kind, six sided, red, green and yellow sign from a mile away. It'd be like trying to disguise Texas in a map of the United States by referring to it as a "state in the south, touching Mexico" and then roughly blurring it out.

The next time you go to Denny's, see if you can spot the next star of Cheaters. If you can't, it's probably because it's you, and you are the lover on the side! Either that, or you felt like some late night comfort food and wanted the comfortability of a place where you can wear your slippers and go shirtless.

Have you ever gained enlightenment or profound truths akin to my Denny's revelation, via trashy TV? Please explain.

new feature - sharing my incredibly good taste

2007-05-09T07:01:00.000-07:00

I'm starting a new weekly feature. For a while I've been thinking it'd be fun to share some music with the readers, but I lacked the knowledge and the motivation to get it off the ground. Thanks to a little help from one of my readers, I've got the solution.

Lately I've been absolutely enamored with a lovely little band from Scotland called Camera Obscura. Check out this song and report back.

doMinANt

2007-05-07T07:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I'm curious what the world would look like if its design wasn't so male-heavy. This isn't to say that there haven't been significant contributions to architecture and urban form by women, but I think so much of that has been limited by the fact that while the world was taking shape, it was men who were making the decisions/messes.

In one of my classes my first semester, we discussed the theories and evolution of planning that have shaped what our cities look like. It was really interesting and amazing to look back with the benefit of hindsight, knowing that certain approaches to curing urban pathologies have no chance of working whatsoever - ie, urban renewal.

In fact, one of the celebrity professors from my program likens current parking requirements to the ancient medicinal practice of blood-letting... it's that bad.

I don't know if I'm being too presumptuous here, and I don't want to open the whole Freud-box o' worms, here, but there's no denying the phallic nature of a lot of our urban scape. It may be sheer utility. I'm willing to concede that in some cases. But in others I think it is clear that traditional male characteristics are manifest in how a city/community is organized. One of my professors also addresses this, noting that it is difficult for the safety of women to be addressed in many planning offices, because the majority of safety precautions are designed by men.

Now, before I bore all of you to tears, let me show you where I'm going with this. I believe that one major component of marriage is learning to cooperate, and successfully compromise with your partner. Often times, you are coming from completely different perspectives and thought processes. Sometimes, my better half's (and I use the term literally) perspective wouldn't have even crossed my mind, yet when I think of it, not only do I understand but I like her idea better.

I think that many issues that face us today, global warming, sprawl, etc stem from the design of a male world. Compartmentalization, utility, profit, individual prosperity at the expense of sociality.

I remember learning in one of my first psychology classes in college, about how boys and girls brains start developing different from the very beginning, and then reinforced when we begin to socialize. Our professor asked us to think about the differences between the games boys and girls play. Boys - cops and robbers, sports, cowboys and indians, video games. Most (if not all) are based on competitions, with clear cut winners and losers. When boys play, they want to win, and measure the level of enjoyment based on their success at the expense of others. With girls, they often play house, dolls, or other social based games. They are equals. Their is no predetermined outcome, rather it is the quality of social interaction that measures the success of the game. Their games mimic real life sociality, whereas boy games are more narrowly focused and de-emphasize social awareness.

Point being, I think these values are reinforced in urban design as well. Our cities are designed for competition, not sociality. Where they are designed for sociality... they are much happier (case in point, wall street vs bourbon street [pre-katrina]). This isn't to say that there can't be both, but when the scales have been so imbalanced for so long, is it any wonder we're at war with the world, the environment, ourselves, and our next door neighbor over that parking spot in front of Sam's Club?

What do you guys think about all of this? Not interested, who cares, give me more pictures of realtors to make fun of?

time to pay the piper

2007-05-03T15:01:00.000-07:00

I don't know if many of you are aware of this or not, but there is a method of payment on this blog, for services rendered. The service that I provide is a blog that I think is fun to read. The payment = your comments. I've been around the block a few times, and have heard on occasion "oh, I love David's blog." Or Ashley will hear "I read David's blog all the time." Yet... nary a one of these devout readers have so much typed a jot nor tittle on my blog. I don't know if such verbal gestures are mere flattery, or real expressions of appreciation

It's time to put an end to it. In the Bluth Family, you'd be considered a hop on. Readers who don't write comments are the proverbial hobo on the train, the stowaway on the boat.

In all seriousness folks, I really do appreciate all of your comments, and I'd like to see more. One of my favorite things is when one of my entries becomes an entity in and of itself, where stories are coming left and right. It is up to me to start them, but I leave them in your hands to finish. Give me a hand, would ya?

Speaking of which, if you have any good ideas for things you'd like to see me address, email me.

Until next time - happy reading. Thanks for your patronage

Mgmt.

middle school love

2007-05-01T10:01:00.000-07:00

Remember those days? The days when the girls were taller than you (not me). When clothes never seemed to fit quite right. When you were constantly afraid of doing something uncool? When you really started to notice the opposite sex... a rush of completely foreign feelings coming and not quite sure what to do with them?

I usually retreated into my primary defense mechanism... if I wasn't sure what to do, make 'em laugh. I may not have been the greatest conversationalist. I was no bad boy, there was no air of mystery behind my actions. But damnit, spend a day with David and he'll make you laugh.

Middle School (or Junior High, depending on where you grew up) was full of romantic-agony. Because you all are so good at telling stories, I thought I'd give you an opportunity to share some of your best tales concerning love at the zenith of awkwardness, in middle school. Here's a couple from my past that come to mind.

In sixth grade, I was invited to something called a "pig-pen" party. The concept was, wear some old ragged clothes, come to the party to do all sorts of messy things. For the life of me, I can't remember what they were, but for some reason I feel like Hershey's chocolate syrup got in people's hair. It was completely innocent, of course. I remember consulting with all of my guy friends to make sure they'd come, for you see... this was my first boy-girl party when it really mattered. Day of the party comes and you guessed it, I'm the only boy. So, the pig pen party was winding down and we were all in the hostesses bedroom. We were playing truth or dare... I think. The girls were all very popular, the cool girls. When my turn came, they asked me if I could kiss anyone in the room, who would I kiss. My mind raced frantically, for I damn well knew that I wasn't equipped to kiss any of those girls. How would I get out of this? Then, it came to me, a stroke of genius, the heavens parted... "I'd kiss myself. I'm a person in the room, I'd kiss me."

Good one David. You idiot. Word must've gotten out, I didn't kiss any girl until 8-9 years later.

In seventh grade, I had the gnarliest crush on Jenny Cain. I remember once her telling a story about when her mom was mad at her she used her full name, "Jennifer Michelle Cain, get down here!" or something like that. I thought to myself, "there, the most beautiful name in the world. There it is..."

Anyway, I quickly inserted myself into Jenny's world by being her best buddy. See, Jenny was WAY out of my league in terms of social status, but Jenny was a smart girl and knew good humor. Fortunately, I was adroit at making her laugh and playing it cool. I was never needy, just the good buddy with no pressure of romance. Although, I desperately wanted to be her boy friend. But she was dating that sissy Thomas Estes. C'mon Jenny, he was shorter than you. He couldn't make you laugh like I could.

One day, word got round that Thomas had "cheated" on Jenny. I was with Jenny, her buddy... as usual. I ended up walking with her and met up with a group of her girl friends as they plotted their next move to counter Thomas Estes's infidelity. One of her friends said... "you need to get back at him, you need to go out with someone else!" I let my heart skip a beat, knowing full well I wasn't a candidate. I was the Carol Mosely Braun of the candidates to be her suitor. As they all deliberated who the next beau would be, Angie Smith said, "how about him" and gestured to me. The fact that she referenced me as "him," also as if I were an inanimate object not capable of responding should've been my first clue that it wasn't going to happen. Of course, everything went in slow motion as I waited for a "second" to confirm my nomination. Dead silence. Not a word, the circle of girls was quiet. Like the proverbial record scratch at the party. There ended my brief candidacy as Jenny Cain's boyfriend.

Of course, we stayed excellent friends through 7th and 8th grade. I guarantee I had a special place in her heart, as she did in mine. She went to a different high school, word on the street is that she dropped out and got preggers. But that is just hearsay.

The last tale I'll address quickly, because I'm very interested in hearing your tales of heartbreak and woe.

Remember the concept of "going out?" It's so funny, because its actually the verbal antithesis of the entire arrangement. You actually never "go out" anywhere. It's the person that is designated as your significant other, pretty much in name only. It's about as real as a Michael Jackson marriage.

Anyway, sixth grade I was "going out" with the nicest, prettiest girl ever. So smart... she was nice to everyone. And beautiful. Her name was Shelly McQuality. I'm a little fuzzy on how I actually ended up with her, but that's beside the point now. The problem with the "going out" arrangement is that you were never quite sure when it was over, because you were usually spending more time with everyone else on the planet, other than the person you were in this alleged romance with. Well... one day I decided I wanted to know the status of where Shelly and I stood. It was after school, and she was talking with a friend. I came up to her and said, "hey shelly, are we still going out?" She paused, and me becoming ever-nervous by the second said, "you know, I'm just checking cause I'm not sure." I think she let me down in a very gentle way, and let me know that we weren't in fact going out. Thank you Shelly.

Ok gang, lets hear 'em.

it'll never fly

2007-04-24T09:01:00.000-07:00

"Show me that smile again (oh show me that smile)..." And thus began the theme song to one of my favorite childhood shows, Growing Pains. Nostalgia aside, everything about that show seemed so wholesome and clean. A psychiatrist dad, loving mom, rascally older brother, bookworm sister and a precocious little brother. Seems like a recipe for innocent delight, right?

Wrong.

The older brother Mike (played by Kirk Cameron) had a best friend named Joey Stabone. His nick name on the TV Show? Boner. It seemed normal back then, with no lewd innuendo. But if that show were to air now, there's no way in hell he'd have the same nick name. We often think that as time goes by the moral fabric of our country deteriorates. Well here, I have irreversible proof of the opposite. : )

Back in the day play grounds and houses were swimming in lead-based paint. That was before everyone was cued in on a little thing called lead poisoning. I wonder who the kid was who broke that story? One of those sick kids that licks everything in site, sucking on the swing set? Serves him right.

Point being, there are some things in society that were so commonplace back then, but would never pass as decent now. Do you guys have any other things that would fit into this category?

neighbors

2007-04-18T14:07:00.000-07:00

Neighbors. Most of us don't really think about them too much unless they happen to be really nice and your friends (happens rarely), or if they are loud, rude, tacky, obnoxious... etc (happens frequently). Whether you are in the suburbs or the city, you most likely have a neighbor or two that has done something that rubs you the wrong way. Even if you live in rural-exile, you could have a kooky neighbor? For example, my parents live out in the wilderness and one of their closest neighbors had an anti-tank gun and constantly talked about "the soldiers coming over the hill."

We live in an apartment complex, so by sheer density alone we have an increased likelihood of having an abrasive neighbor. But you know what? We've lived here almost three complete months and haven't heard as much of a peep from anyone. No one next door, no noises from below. And then it hit me... we're those neighbors.

What was my first clue? As I came home today I witnessed one of our favorite stunts. The old, "leave the trash out by the door" trick so I can take it down with me the next time I leave. Granted, we do live at the end of the hall and it is relatively well ventilated. But I'm sure there are some folks who'd prefer if we kept our trash inside.

We also like to let our dingy mop dry out, outside the apartment.

Then there was the time we left our massive entertainment center dry in the middle of the hall... for a week.

Then there's the primer, and metal polish stains on the carpet from my bike mechanic-antics.

Yessiree, we are the proverbial Simpsons to a facility full of Flanders.

In our defense (and it's a shabby one, I know) - we don't have a yard, and we are on the third floor of an elevator-less building. And um... I have a back problem. Look, we aren't that noisy, we just take certain liberties to communal space, is that a crime?

I'd like to hear some funny stories about your neighbors. Or if you are like us... some stories about your neighborly-tasteful indiscretions.

out of place

2007-04-09T22:48:00.000-07:00

Bad news you guys. A week ago Saturday I had another one of my back injuries. This one seized me in the middle of a run. Since becoming a bike commuter, I had scaled down my running to once every couple of weeks. Well this is the jog that broke the david's back. Now, my discs are like that man in the blue jacket... (see title)

5mm and 7mm respectively. It seems like such an insignificant amount. I'll tell you what though, the pain is so overwhelming at times that it can literally floor me. No joke, I coughed on the way back from the bathroom and fell to the ground. I sort of liked being in ignorance about my bad back, now the actual thought of discs being out of place is really visceral and makes the pain almost... nauseating, if that makes sense.

Despite this, I'm in relatively good spirits. It couldn't have come at a worse time, with the new quarter starting and some really exciting classes in the mix. Getting around campus takes a lot of time, and I'm starting to get used to the stares of pity that follow my limping wake.

To add insult to injury, the earliest I can see a spine specialist is May 2nd. It really takes the wind out of your sails to think that there is going to be no progress for almost a month. Their only advice was for me to call daily and see if there has been cancellations. I suppose I have no other choice.

In the mean time, I'm doped up on narcotics of questionable efficacy. I suppose compared to ibuprofen it works, but the mobility required by every day tasks are still very difficult. Ashley, bless her heart, has now become my life-assistant, helping me dress, sleep, etc.

Just wanted you all to know that during this period blogging may or may not decrease. I'll keep you posted.

Take care of your back.

busy

2007-04-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday* I officially had the most busy day of my life. It was maybe also the most productive day of my life. Why I think to mention this (because I really loathe - look at what I did today, isnt' my life so interesting blogs) is because it goes back to a question that Ashley and I have discussed on and off, and I'm interested in your opinions: Is it more fun/exciting/rewarding to have too much to do, or too little to do?

It might seem like a no brainer, of course the latter right? The reason I've always fell on the former's side is because I hate being rushed. I hate having to cram things in under a deadline. I hate squeezing things into an already completely booked itinerary.

The lesson I learned on Tuesday is that it is a fine balance between having lots of things you "want" to get done, and things you "need" to get done. I think I always lumped the essence of being busy into things that "needed" to get done, and within that classification comes a semblance of procrastination or lack of foresight/organization. That, I don't like nor endorse. What I've learned that a day full of things you want to get done is a different kind of busy, and a very rewarding sense of fulfillment. This is what I did on Tuesday:

1. Paid off a credit card
2. Renewed my GQ subscription (link to my favorite feature)
3. Did four loads of laundry
4. Got a new California phone number
5. Applied for and successfully passed a test for a new drivers license (you better believe I'm a donor, who wouldn't want these organs?)
6. Went to the verizon store to get my phone fixed, in the process got it FRIED and walked out with a new phone.
7. While waiting for my phone, I perused the bargains at a lovely discount retail store that some of you may have heard of, it's called ROSS. I think It might be pronounced like "Rose" but I'm not sure.
8. Sampled Burger King's latest offering, the "Angus." Basically a Whopper that's smaller with bbq sauce and grilled onions. It was ok, left me wishing I'd opted for the Whopper.
9. Deposited a paycheck at the bank.
10. Went to the Temple.
11. Watched three episodes of Lost Season One on DVD. I'm just starting, but I'm all about Locke. That guy is a freaking Man.
12. Performed items 4-9 whilst on my bike

It was a great day for many reasons. And just like that weird .gif I found, I had "not time for sorrow." Despite questionable grammar, what the hell does that even mean, really? Just because your busy doesn't mean you can't have sorrow. Ask a kid in Indonesia working in a match factory how happy he is, ok?

Anyway. Tell me some stories about being busy. Chime in on the debate, better to be busy or not?

*what a difference a week makes. One crippling back injury later, I find myself cooped up watching Mythbusters and limping around my apartment like Mr. Burns.

lowest common denominator

2007-03-29T12:01:00.000-07:00

Have most of you played the game - Who would you rather? It's not really a game per se, but more of a thing to do to pass time in the car, or late at night on the couch, or perhaps when you are stuck in an elevator. The premise is you give your company hypothetical choices of who they'd have to pick as a romantic partner between two funny choices. You have to choose one. Obviously, the game can regress rather quickly into displays of imagination or disgust.

It's most commonly done with celebrities, because it's only fun if everyone knows the people you have to pick from. When my brothers and I play it, it seems like my choices always end up between Rosie and Whoopi.

Well guess what Rosie, Whoopi and my brothers... I've got a new lowest common denominator. Subscribers to Women & Guns Magazine. Seriously horrifying.

I thought I'd take this opportunity for the readers to list their lowest common denominators.

ghost stories

2007-03-27T15:01:00.000-07:00

Because we are a few months off from Halloween, a post about ghost stories might appear like white after Labor day, out of season. Unlike Halloween, ghostly encounters can happen all year round.

We have a ghost in our apartment. He's a pretty benign fellow. When Ashley is throwing on the wheel he comes up and sits...

Just kidding. We don't have a ghost who looks like Patrick Swayze making sexual advances at my wife. But you can imagine the kind of story that would be! Instead, we have a ghost who has a fetish for unscrewing this light in our bathroom. Just as I went to check on it (because the blog entry came to mind) it was about to fall down, no joke. As I had done before, I twisted each screw firmly into its place. I think the light fixture has fallen down about four times now. I seriously have never experienced anything like it, and because it is so illogical I must conclude that the explanation is that of a supernatural one.

Ashley thinks it's hysterical... because I get furious every time I hear the plastic light hit the ground. Fortunately, it's in no danger of breaking, just annoying the dickens out of me. I guess that's the appeal to our ghost. What can I do to break his will. What our ghost doesn't know (I'm banking on him not having internet access) is what would really bug me is if he was constantly causing our microwave to trip the breaker every time you open the door before the time actually expires ... oh wait, that already happens too.

When I consider how fortunate I am to have a mild mannered ghost with a light-fixture OCD and not a Patrick Swayze, or a Bill Cosby, or a Poltergeist, I think there might be some readers with more exciting tales. Do you guys have any good ghost stories?

op/ed - I'm sick of the Gypsy stereotypes

2007-03-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Isabella, the Gypsy

After I unhitched my two burros from my vintage circus cart and stopped in at the local internet cafe to check my favorite blog, I was surprised and appalled at all of the negativity directed towards me, my people, and my chosen profession.

Look, I know that our mystic culture may be foreign to you. I know that you think a crystal ball is as easy to operate as one of those magic eight-ball thingies you kids buy at spencers gifts. But I've got news for you, it's not easy making a living off of curses, vexes, pick-pocketing tourists, child-gang theft schemes, and other misunderstood chicanery.

Sure, you might think that days without end wearing loose fitting clothing and gold jewelry is akin to living the good life. Let me tell you, two weeks on the road with noisy donkeys, a pack of feral kids that aren't your kids, and a husband that won't freaking shut his pie-hole about the prophecy or how he "could've" been a sword swallower but his asthma made it too risky. If I have to hear one more story about how "easy" travel wallets are to swipe I swear I'm going to find a new group to tour with.

And you guys... you american tourists. With your denim warner brothers jackets, fanny packs, and hat that you clearly bought five minutes ago. You might as well be walking around with a sandwich board on saying "please rob me, I have no dignity."

So do we have an understanding? Good, I'd hate to curse your unborn babies. Thanks for letting me write on your blog David

look- a-like post pushed back a week

2007-03-21T15:01:00.000-07:00

You still have time to send me your pictures.

Send them here.

I miscalculated the deadline, I'm in the middle of finals, cramming all sorts of useless junk into my head like a Gypsy in their cart.

In the mean time, tell me your favorite story about a gypsy.

vintage... internet?

2007-03-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

We are all familiar with the inherently cool nature the term "vintage" adds to any item. Whether we are talking bikes, cars, clothes, or other miscellaneous collectibles, vintage is all the rage and lends you that credibility you are desperately seeking when you weren't old enough or cool enough to actually know about it.

"Yo, check out my vintage Precious Moments fool."

So I'm wondering when the Internet will have been around long enough to where vintage internet things are cool. Do you remember your first forays on the world wide web?

I distinctly remember mine. Junior year in high school(1996). My friends Nate, Justin and I went onto this really archaic chat room on Prodigy I think. We tried to chat it up with what we thought were ladies. Who knows, ignorance is bliss right?

I got my first email address as freshman at the University of Northern Colorado in the fall of 1997. It was on this super-ghetto platform called PINE. Going back to PINE now would be like emailing with the cavemen. I didn't really grasp the role that the internet would play until I was on my mission in England, nearly a year later when I got my first hotmail address.

I was pulsafire@..., a nickname/pun I had sort of given myself that was supposed to boast of my baseball/pitching prowess. You know, I threw so fast that I pitched fire? Clever, I know. Then I had a myriad of hotmail addresses, and even a yahoo one or two during the next five years. In the midst of the internet boom, there were all of these other email clients that you could use, altavista, excite, hotbot (maybe?), etc. It's so funny, no one uses those anymore. These days, its either school addresses, work, or gmail. Gmail straight up came to the party and sent everyone home early. The total email-party debbie downer/buzzkill all in one. You are hard pressed these days to find people still holding on to their email address from 5+ years ago...

1. Because it's so riddled with spam it has been rendered useless
2. Because gmail is far superior for a web-based email
3. Because everything else really is inferior

I suppose there is a small sect out there still clinging on to yahoo or hotmail, but they really don't compare to gmail.

What I'm wondering is... when will all the prestige, glitz and glamour wear off from the latest trends on the internet? Just to stay ahead of the trend, I set myself up an excite email address. I was laughing the whole time.

If you are wondering about excite, check out this awesome article about excite circa 1999 that claims excite may not be all that. Good call, you were right.

So, do you think there will be a vintage movement within the internet culture?
What were some of your favorite websites, dating back to oh-so-long ago.

Nominees:
TalkCity
MenWhoLookLikeKennyRogers.com
Excite

If you think I may have missed a few, email me at my new excite email address. I think you'll find you'll want to get on this bandwagon before it passes you by.

i get by with a little help from my friends

2007-03-14T12:26:00.000-07:00

I've got an idea you guys. Dating back to one of my earliest poor man's series, I said that my friend Alan looked like Captain Riker from Star Trek the Next Generation. Anyway, I think it is really funny when people we know look like celebrities. Of course this is a normative science. The more questionable the better I say.

So I want to get a collection of people in your immediate surroundings who you think look like famous people. If you could capture their likeness and send it to me, that would be awesome. I'll collect them and then publish them a week from today. The more submissions, the better. I've got one that I've been sitting on that's pretty good.

Cheers, and happy photo-sneaking.

trust

2007-03-12T11:01:00.000-07:00

I wish I was a fly on the wall at the inception of the "trust fall." How about coercing trust out of them, you know, throwing them off a tower blindfolded and hoping their peers trust you. It was so well received the idea spread like wild fire, infusing camp counselors everywhere with the false sense of security that they are actually getting kids to trust each other.

I think this scenario falsely impersonates trust for several reasons. One, in real life you can choose who you trust. In this activity you get whoever went to camp Jamboree with you. Also, the participants (the catchers) are sort of forced by social mores to catch you. In real life, you aren't obligated to trust someone just because they are falling toward you. I don't think you can force trust, I think this exercise should be more aptly called "a forced-fall into the arms of a bunch of strangers you'll likely never see again." But then again, saying "trust fall" may be easier.

Trust is an interesting thing. I think I've heard someone say that "to trust is greater than to love." I think there is definitely some truth to that, in terms of the stratification of inter-personal relationships. I'm sure we can all think of people who we may love, but not necessarily trust. I'll start naming people... Just kidding.

While I was serving my mission in England, I had one companion that I particularly had a difficult time with. One thing that really rubbed me the wrong way was how he proceeded many of his great declarations with "Trust me..." It was so annoying, because I didn't trust him. And why should I, just because you tell me to? He'd follow that up with really annoying things like, "Trust me, I have three sisters, I know how girls think." I'd think to myself, "Hmm... I have three sisters too and I'd never make that claim."

So here's a quick hint, if you want people to trust you don't tell them to trust you. I immediately don't trust someone as soon as they say "trust me."

You know what I also don't trust. Locks on public bathrooms. Not the individual stall locks, but the locks to the door when you are occupying the entire room. I look at the lock as I push it in or twist it and think, "ok, just prepare to be walked in on by some one else while you are doing your most private business." It's not that I've had that experience yet, but I'm prepared for it.

What do you guys think about trust. Who don't you trust. What are key elements for garnering trust?

diet, schmiet

2007-03-08T07:01:00.000-08:00

This post has been a long time coming. Today I read this article in the LA Times and I almost couldn't finish the article because I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling emphatically. Freaking Diets.

It's not that I contest the results of the study. I'm sure when you comb through their research methods you'll find everything is in tip top shape. What I take issue with is the whole concept of those diets in the first place. South Beach, Zone, Ornish, Atkins - as soon as someone starts mentioning one of those I immediately lose interest in their endeavor to lose weight. Why may you ask (other than my propensity to lose interest in people's conversations arbitrarily)? Simple really - I don't think diets work.

When I hear diet, it summons images of "quick fix" or "to get a jump start." People don't diet the rest of their lives do they? If a person views their change in dietary habits as temporary, then by theory as soon as they are done starving their body of carbohydrates, flogging their body with scourges fashioned out of tofu, or whatever new trendy thing is on the diet circuit, they'll gain the weight back.

That has been my whole issue from the atkins diet in the beginning. It isn't a lifestyle change, it's a fad diet to get you to drop pounds. Newsflash, you can't live life on all proteins. As critics of this study state, the weakness of atkins is that there are no long term studies that predict how a life bereft of carbs will be.

By their own admission, I've listened to countless atkins-users who were impressed with the initial jolt to their system, but quickly gave it up when they realized that the diet wasn't sustainable. As soon as they stopped, the weight came right back. Not to mention, it didn't provide them with their terminal weight loss goal in the first place.

I'm no dietitian, nor do I have any academic training in the hard sciences. However, I do have a Bachelor of Science (how do you like them apples), I'll not disclose the specific science, but sufficeth to say I have enough experience with "dieting." My personal belief is that if you want to lose weight, you simply (ha) change your lifestyle.

You can't diet for the rest of your life and be sane, but you can change your life for the better. About 2.5 years ago I began a lifestyle change that lead to me losing almost 60 pounds. I didn't diet per se (although at times I've dubbed my particular brand of eating as the "sandwich and cereal diet"), but I did change my habits. It's rocket science for all of you potential dieters out there, check this out: I committed to using more calories than I consumed. Take that in and think about it.

Calories are units of energy. I employed my body to use more calories, than I was intaking. The result = a new David. Some of the obvious things I did: Dramatically changed my activity level (running 6 times a week, weight lifting), did not late night snack, limited my sweet intake. It was just a healthy choice.

I have to confess that my success has made me less sympathetic to people who bemoan their difficulties with weight loss (as they sit with a packet of Funyuns on their desk) and talk about their low-carb latte or whatever. The hardest part isn't losing the weight, the hardest part is changing your habits. Once your habits change, the weight will melt off. Believe it. I lost all of my weight 4-5 months into my lifestyle change. I still keep very high activity levels, but my diet is less stringent. I feel like I've reached a good plateau.

I consider this a success, because my little brother Eli told me that he learned in his Nutrition class that 90% of people who go on diets re-gain their weight after 3 months. That fact could've been slightly tinted with time inside my head, but I think in essence it's true. Taking those numbers, I think less people should go on diets, and more on lifestyle changes. You'll change your life. I thank God often for what I feel was a new chance at life. It is an amazing thing to live your life convinced that you are supposed to be a heavy person, and then to undergo a transformation like I did. You get a fresh perspective on life, and self esteem that you thought you'd never have.

What do you think you guys? Any of you trying to lose weight? Horror, funny stories about diets? Successes, failures... do you dis/agree?

ann coulter is the poor man's lead singer of nickelback

2007-03-05T07:01:00.000-08:00

It's a toss up right? One is a mean spirited bigot. The other writes a nasty guitar lick. I've decided that one way I can show the magnitude of my disdain for for Man Coulter is to liken her unto the band making the sickest music around these days. Seriously, I can't think of a more frightening hell... than having to listen to Nickelback on loop for more than ten minutes.

Oh wait... I did have to do that when I went on an internet-arranged road trip with a stranger, but that story is for another day.

What I am interested in is why Ann Coulter has a job. She's hardly palatable (visually) at best. Everyone says "oh, the only reason she has her job is because she's pretty and says outrageous things." Well, I've got news for you, I've seen prettier homeless people and they say things that are just as outrageous. I'm not sure what people are drawn to... it's kind of sad that her brand of rhetoric resonates with people. It is evil. It is hate. It is wrong.

I'm not interesed in her, or anyone who finds her hateful ideas amusing. Happy Monday everyone...

In other news... Forest Whitaker definitely deserved the best actor award for his role as Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland. Beyond superior acting.

my quincinera

2007-02-28T15:01:00.000-08:00

A month ago when I naively jumped at the chance for "free dental screenings" I had no idea what I was getting myself into. What I thought I was getting myself into was a free cleaning or something, and maybe get my grill tricked out like Paul Wall.

Turns out neither of those happened. What I did get was a big fat dose of reality that comes in part with not going to the dentist for 9 years or so. Hey, it could be worse. Turns out, I had some little devils in numbers 14, 15, and then somewhere on my right side. Those right hand-side suckers are going to get fixed free because the dental student who screened me needed my type of cavities to pass his board exam.

The previous two weeks I've had number 14 worked on and 15... aka, my quincinera. I'd say the most uncomfortable experience related to the entire tooth-treatment debacle, was getting the x-rays. I don't ever remember putting those hannibal lector/iron maiden muzzle things in before, but they feel like they are putting pressure on your palate with razor blades. You'd think there'd be a more comfortable way to do that wouldn't you?

Apparently not.

Other than that, I'd say getting my teeth fixed has been a good experience over all. Granted, the procedure has left my mouth a little temperature sensitive, e.g. when I bit into a frozen grape on the wrong side I felt like I had been socked in the cheek with a sock full of nickels.

When I was in the chair one of the dental students told me about how he heard about some kid dying from an abscess that migrated from his tooth to his brain. Sounds like typical dental-scare tactics if you ask me. I'll tell you what's not dental-chicanery... Meth. You do meth, you get meth-mouth. Just try to nail a job interview with those pearly whites. I can just see it now:

Interviewer: So, tell me a little bit about yourself
Meth-Mouth: Well, lets see, where do I start...
Interviewer: Did you chew on a bag of freshly blown glass before you came here?
Meth-Mouth: No, but I am a recov...
Interviewer: Please get out, I'm going to have nightmares for a month.

From my limited experience... I think it's very nice to have a dentist that you like to talk to, and some one who doesn't mind answering inane questions, or who will tell you what they are doing. I find that being inquisitive about the goings on of peoples hands in your mouth is a pretty good way to take the nerves out of the operation.

As a very fortunate ending to this tale, I did not need a root canal, crown, or any other money-pit venture. However, I would like to hear your good stories (or urban legends) of things that have happened to you or your friends while getting your teeth fixed.

the death of my monogamous tv-show relationship

2007-02-23T10:01:00.000-08:00

Last night was the series finale of my favorite show. Yes, you read that right, finale. As in fin, finished, finito, defunct, curtailed, dead, no more. I have to admit, it was a sad event for myriad reasons... I'll do my best to articulate them for you:

1. Like all great shows, its life was cut short by the television demi-gods at Fox. To make way for another seedy sitcom starring a washed up bimbo no doubt, something on par with Stacked I'd reckon. I suppose it was destined to end early as it faced the almost impossible plot-cavern by reconciling how to keep high school characters together, after high school. There are several options from my own recollection, both show limited success. One, go the Saved by the Bell/90210 route, create a fictional edifice of higher education which serves as the default choice (and happens to be in the same city as their home town). I can't remember where the SBTB kids went for "the college years", but the 90210ers went to CAL-U. Somehow you have to explain why the all chose to stay at the local-U. What a joke, as my friend Ben once pointed out, Zack never went to school and did horribly, yet he was choosing between Stanford and Princeton. Andrea passed up Yale to go to CAL-U. Come on people.

The other option is to have the kids go to separate schools ala Facts of Life (and what the OC was attempting to do), but then you have to create paper-thin plots explaining why the kids are always coming back home (you can only have so many holidays, even if you celebrate everything on the judeo-christian calendar). To substitute the holes left by kids moving off you are forced to use filler-characters (more aptly dubbed fodder characters) *Cough* Clooney *Cough*. This effort ends up saturating the show with a variety of plot-maladies, so that may not be worth it either.

2. Because I miss Marissa. Ok, I said it. I was the first nay-sayer when it came to Mischa Barton, but the show really tanked after her mediocre acting. How is that possible? At the core of the show's incredibly far-fetched foundation, was Marissa's completely inane character. Drug addictions, stints with lesbianism, miscommunication galore, and who could forget those apathetic looks she just killed you with. I was wrong to want her gone.

3. Because I'll miss defending the show. I was a very early convert to the show, and everyone loved to hate it. Much like I love hating this empire. Of course it was about spoiled teens, of course it was completely outrageous. So what? It was very cleverly written, had excellent soundtracks, and plot twists that were so over-the-top you couldn't help but love it. It was like the grandma you have that is a holiday lush and wears too much make-up. Bless her heart.

4. I'm sad because my relationship with the OC withered like a bad relationship. 3.5 years of loyalty, and I couldn't even bring myself to watch 4-5 of the episodes in between the bad news of its demise and the finale. We just grew apart...

5. Finally. Because the show was so decadently indulgent, I felt satiated by my once a week fix. It met a need I had, and then I didn't need to watch much else. Now I find myself without a show. I'd like to replace it... but I don't really wanna be johnny come lately about this either. I don't like sit-coms as much because they lack continuity to me. I need a story line, with character development. I'm not particularly interested in a group of sexed up doctors in each other's scrubs all the time (confession, I only watched it once but once was enough, like staring at the sun?).

I like the idea of having one show. One show that defines you, your tastes. That way, I feel completely normal indulging in it, but then I don't need to spend time with others. I definitely plan on watching Project Runway, but I don't count that as it's kind of seasonal and shorter. I also enjoy a little gem on ESPN Classic called Cheap Seats, but that is sort of a late-night chuckle, once in a while type of thing.

Do you have any suggestions for me? It's time for you to crusade your show on its behalf. I want to be sold people.

britney spears is the poor man's bat boy

2007-02-21T07:01:00.000-08:00

What an amazing world we live in. A teen-idol past her prime shaves her head and the news world feasts on it like Chunk with a carton of Chocolate Eruption. Hey, I don't blame Britney for shaving her head. I get the itch to do it all the time, especially as of late since my hairdos have been getting progressively longer.

Now that I think about it, this isn't the first time I've written about women shaving their heads. I think Demi, Natalie and Sinead pulled it off better than Britney. This may have something to do with the fact that Demi & Natalie were doing it for acting roles, and Sinead was doing it as a statement to underscore her artistic credentials, whereas Britney was doing so after one round too many of wine coolers and jug of red vines from costco.

Everyone chime in, Why did she do it? (because it matters, so much)

rule of law

2007-02-16T09:01:00.000-08:00

The Rule of Law is the concept that explains why all of us are willing to be governed, to be citizens of our respective countries. Citizens are people who trade their loyalty to a government in exchange for protection from internal and external threats to their freedom. Citizens manifest loyalty through obedience to laws. The Rule of Law explains that the reason citizens obey laws is because they believe in the legitimacy of the process in which the laws were both conceived and enforced. Without the mutual understanding and compliance of the citizens and the government... anarchy and unrest result.

I was moving "approximately" two miles per hour when I was pulled over by the traffic officer. I suppose it was hard for him to know how fast I was going, considering I was traveling at such a slow rate. It was definitely the first time I have been pulled over while I was on the sidewalk. A logical question might be, "What were you doing on the sidewalk going two miles per hour?"

I was walking of course. You see, I got stopped by cop for crossing a red light. A narrow, insignificant road in downtown Los Angeles on my lunch break. I couldn't believe he was actually wasting his and my time with something so petty. There was construction going on on the corner of the road, and I checked both ways and there was no one coming. Apparently I didn't check well enough because I didn't see the cop on the motorcycle. Be that as it may, I was certainly not in harm's way, nor was there any car coming that needed to change their speed or lane because of my antics. I was so frustrated. I was outraged and wanted to verbally berate the man, but my thought is that when you are confronted with a police officer, the more amiable you can be to them, the less likely they'll give you the shaft.

Well, that didn't work. I got the shaft. To the tune of $117. I don't believe in jaywalking tickets. Completely ridiculous, utterly arbitrary in enforcement and application. I promise you that won't be the last time I jay walk. I'll just make sure there aren't any cops in the area. Lesson = not learned. If more laws were as benign and annoying as jaywalking I'd be on the front lines of a pedestrian led coup d'etat, and I can guarantee we'd be moving more than just 2 mph!

Have you had personal experience with the enforcement of a law that befuddled, infuriated, or enraged you? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

e-commerce

2007-02-09T15:01:00.000-08:00

Behold, a match made in heaven. Last week marked the culmination of what has been nearly a two month's effort = looking for a bike for Ashley. Navigating the often choppy seas of craigslist can be a perilous task at times. For you see, not only do treacherous reefs (scams) lie in wait, but also sirens (flakey mc flakersons). I suppose you get what you pay for. Nothing. This certainly isn't a rail on Craigslist. It is a lovely little e-community and a fun resource for bargain shoppers and hagglers alike.

I've found that it can take a concerted effort to get what you want from there. We got a pretty nice TV for $40 bones, it was as heavy as a pallet of anvils, but the screen size is good. So perhaps it's not as hard to purchase goods and services if you are not a flakey mcflakerson, but selling is quite another ordeal all-together. I've been attempting to sell my car and have received numerous inquires. I have made pretty serious treks home and rescheduled my day to meet up with people, only to have them ditch me like a pimply faced dungeons and dragon aficionado in a ford festiva. I need to sell this thing so I can pay my kin back... so now drastic steps are going to be made. I'm going to AutoTrader and the Los Angeles Times... alas, paying to sell my car.

Do you guys have any success/funny stories about buying things online, or from the classifieds? Come one come all.

choose your cause

2007-02-05T09:01:00.000-08:00

My first day at work I happened upon this delightful display of citizen rights. I love seeing people explore the depths of the 1st amendment clause which protects our right to "peaceably assemble." This little gathering was a group of citizens who were very concerned with the rights patients using marijuana for medicinal purposes. It's not that I doubted their sincerity, but after a cursory examination of their charming coterie I wondered this:

Why do medicinal marijuana users look exactly recreational marijuana users (or the characiture thereof)?

I mean come on, how can all of the people who use marijuana for medicinal purposes also look like the editor in chief of High Times? Or an extra from a Cheech and Chong film?

I doubt that many of you are hardcore medicinal marijuana proponents, so I'm not afraid of stepping on any toes out there. But if you are, you've certainly fooled me. The two repeating examples I've heard in favor of medicinal marijuana is pain relief for terminal patients, and glaucoma. I suppose that I'm somewhat sympathetic towards the first group of people. I mean, come on... they are on death's door, cut them some slack right? But in that same breath I wonder if marijuana is the most effective means for pain relief. It seems more like a "might as well do it" type of thing.

As for glaucoma, I confess to knowing nothing about it other than when I go to the eye doctor and sweat bullets during my glaucoma test. Ever had one of those? In a dark room you put your chin and forehead up on this thing that resembles an inquisitor-torture device, with your naked eye exposed. Then your doctor says, "I'll be shooting your eye with a blast of air, when you least expect it, so... get ready." You wait for hours, or at least it seems like it. It's similar to the sensation when you get to the top of one of those roller-coasters that just pulls you up a straight tower, and then drops you. You don't know when it's coming, you just know that its going to be scary. Anyway, after the dagger of air jabs you and makes you cry, you are free to go feeling humiliated (but at least your eye doctor knows the pressure of your eyes). Apparently, this lets him know if you are on the verge of getting glaucoma and also on the path to becoming an advocate for medicinal marijuana.

I checked with my friends at Wikipedia and they told me that many glaucoma-marijuana studies have been conducted, but that none of these studies demonstrated that marijuana -- or any of its components -- could safely and effectively lower intraocular pressure any more than a variety of drugs then on the market. So I guess that begs the question, why are people so rabid about advocating it? My guess, just a step closer to legalization. Which brings up a whole separate issue, where I'm kind of inclined to pull a 180 considering all of the wasted time we pay law enforcement to track down kids selling marijuana cigarettes to frat guys, tying up our legal system and prisons for something relatively innocuous.

Anyway... back to the title of this post... this isn't my cause. By the way I've waffled on and on about it, you might think it is. I really couldn't care less. What I do care about is about the presentation of your cause. If you want me to take you seriously, then don't come up looking like a dope-head. Put away your oversized flannel shirt, john lennon classes, tacky marijuana leaf necklace you bought at Spencer Gifts, and t-shirt with a stretched out collar with a maxim coined by someone with the mental acuity of a 9 year old.

My brother has made similar comments about the Gay rights movement. Not that I have anything against the movement itself, but if you are going to advocate yourself as a member of society who deserves equal protection under the law, then at least have the sense to dress like you want to be taken seriously, save the butt-less pleather chaps and gags, biker hats and chains, masquerade masks and fishnets for another day. Many people continue to view the gay cause as a fringe movement of sexual deviants as opposed to regular people because of the propitiation of this type of image. Of course I know not all gay-rights marches and such have this type of attire, but its also not hard to find it either.

As for me, my cause these days is advocating alternatives to driving a car everywhere. Sometimes it's subtle, and other times it's less so, but I still consider my audience and the way I present myself. I'm sure I've offended someone now. Tell me what you guys think. What's your cause? What do you think about the connection between the plight and presentation of a cause?

Elections

2007-02-02T09:30:00.000-08:00

Do you recall various interest groups saying "If Jesus were a candidate..."

Well, I've got news for you. He is, and you better vote for him.

getting started early

2007-01-24T10:00:00.000-08:00

The other day I was taking the subway back to my brother's house when I saw this little chap. It was incredibly cute. His mother was listening to her iPod, and she was sharing her headphones with her toddler son. Normally I see this type of sharing between teenaged girls on a bus, or nascent lovers in a "moment." I was fascinated by this guy, I'm not sure what his mom was listening to but he kept his chubby little paw next to his ear, making sure he could hear the music. At first I thought this was an attempt by mom to keep him quiet, but he was bobbing his head and would work quickly to fix the ear-bud if it slipped out. (Thus proving the universal truth, iPod ear-buds don't stay in anyone's ear).

Then I thought about Apple.

Man, talk about their freaking dream come true. Let's get kids hooked before they can write, read, or put together sentences. What chance does this kid have to not be a consumer electronic hungry mongrel? Forget about it, you might as well a sign him up for a life dependent on the electronic glow/hum of the newest device from now until he's 47, a triple bypass, and a lifelong subscription to EGM.

We all know that kids these days are inundated with the pressure/allurement of the electronic world. The ipods, cell phones, wiis, xboxs, playstations... with childhood obesity climbing rapidly, what chance does the american youngster have to become anything but a model for adiposity?

If you have a spare 22 minutes, I implore you to watch this (the ever-timely) South Park episode. You won't regret it. It pretty much addresses all of the aforementioned issues. Except my penchant for sneak-peak cell phone photography. Some are likening my work to a young Ansel Adams.

I suppose we shouldn't throw in the towel completely. If memory serves me correctly, I got the first Nintendo game system before my 9th birthday, and before that was playing with an Atari. While I enjoyed gaming systems up through high school and the computer (pre-internets) I still managed to develop a healthy love for outdoor living.

I wonder if America's access to disposable income will further entice children by the millions to eschew sports and instead turn to electronic forms of entertainment? Will their love/access to this culture deplete (the usually replete) reservoir of American athletes (who begin to hone their talents from a young age, of course)? Will our love for convenience and cyber-fun prove to be our downfall in terms of competing in sanctioned multi-national sporting events? Your thoughts? Look out Olympics, our greatest competitor isn't Russia anymore, it's the Wii.

sea world is a cult (and other things I learned on my sabbatical)

2007-01-18T13:00:00.000-08:00

Welcome back... come one come all. So that break took was much longer than I anticipated. My favorite reader reminded me that I had left my blog to collect dust a little too long, and that some of my faithful readers might be missing their semi-weekly dose of smugness. So without further ado, I've prepared a little litany of lessons I learned from this last month.

Sea World is a Cult
It only takes the observant citizen four-five minutes to realize that there is something weird going on at Sea World. While the other attractions like the Dolphin Discovery or Clyde & Seamore's Risky Rescue (sea lions & otters) might seem innocuous, they are really just preparatory to the main event, the leader... the seductress. Shamu. Without even thinking about it we strolled through their intracately planned series of attractions. Petting zoo, to dolphins, to sea lions, to holding starfish... and then voila, we are sitting in Shamu Stadium for them to reveal the leader of their strict followers. If we only "believe," (we were told), we could reach our dreams. Dreams? My dreams? My dreams don't include being locked in a tank and asked to perform tricks twice a day for slack jawed tourists. Their presentation works... the party loyalists are every where. While we attended Dolphin Discovery we overheard women talking about the dolphins as if they were celebrities. "Bubbles must not be feeling very well, I've seen her jump much higher than that." "Pickles, now she was the best dolphin, she was my favorite. She was way faster than Bubbles."

This is alarming for several reasons. One, how do you remember their names? Two, how do you tell them apart? Three, how many times do you have to go before you start to notice these types of things? This type of behavior is clearly not normal, but the cult of Sea World is alive and well, and if you fall for it you'll know the difference between all the slaves/animals as well too.

Tijuana salesmen = the apex of ingenuity in cold contact sales
"Hey Hey... my friend, come take a look at my shop."
"Hey you, honeymooners, you want jewelry?"
"Hey, parastroika" (I was wearing my authentic CCCP shirt from Ashley)
"Hey, russia!"
"Hey you, we've got low prices. Lower prices than walmart. We're trying to put walmart out of business" (by far my favorite, I should've bought something just because of how clever it was)

Ashley got a great pair of earrings. I regret not buying the mexican wrestling mask.

post script:
I'm no good at haggling. It makes me feel dirty inside.

The Town & Country isn't just a snappy way to get around town
It's actually a perfectly preserved piece of Americana... like time froze in 1978. It's pretty impressive really. With one detour off highway 8 it felt like I was leaving the modern world and headed right back to the set of Three's Company. We stayed at the Town & Country for roughly a week. Despite the campy decor, the service was outstanding and the labrynth of a complex actually starts to take on some charm after a while.

If it sounds like it's too good to be true...
It probably is. Maybe. While staying at the aforementioned 70's haven, we got a handout for a local restaurant. We were strongly tempted by the convenience of the transaction. We were hungry, and the room service menu seemed to be severely lacking. It seemed like a match made in heaven. However one entry on the menu proved to be alarming. For roughly CORRECTION $9.99 dollars one could procure 2 large four-topping pizzas, two 2 liters of the soda of our choice, 8 brownies, 12 wings, two dinner salads and maybe some french fries. Not only is the sheer mass of this food alarming, but the fact that a pizza place is peddling stuff like brownies and wings is slightly sketchy. Then combine the fact that you get all of those things for CORRECTION $9.99? Yikes... They are throwing everthing but the kitchen sink in on that deal. I would've loved to be a part of the meeting that put that flyer together: "Ok, so... we've got the brownies, wings, salads... what else? What else can we possibly throw in this deal to get them to buy it? Think of something... Chicken cordon blue? A monte christo? Three pez dispensers and a Charleston Chew. Great idea you guys, keep 'em coming."

There are a few other lessons learned, namely it pays to be friends with people who have spare bedrooms and beds, because you really never know when you'll need to set up camp there. The wifey and I are homeless until the 29th, and lucky we have enough connections to keep us off of skid row. Being in housing purgatory and living out of the suitcase is pretty old, but I guarantee you no one in the University Village will appreciate their apartment more than we will. Thanks for coming back, Lowercase Numbers will be up and running like a finely tuned Town & Country now.

extended sabbatical, pt. 2

2006-12-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

For the following reasons I won't be back until a week or two into the new year.

Christmas
Wedding
New Year's
Honeymoon
New Job
Start of School
Moving

Those links are all work safe. Don't worry. Click on them... for a little chuckle. See you guys next year.

noah emmerich is the poor man's thomas f. wilson

2006-12-16T19:01:00.000-08:00

You may be asking yourself "Who in the hell are both of those guys anyway?" Perhaps this is my most arbitrary, yet progressive poor man's installment yet. You probably know both of these men, just not by name. Noah Emmerich's more popular roles have included the buddy of Jim Carey in the Truman Show, or the gutless assistant coach in Miracle. Thomas F. Wilson's career really needs no introduction (except this one), he played Biff in the Back to the Future trilogy. Isn't their likeness striking?

As an aside... I thought a great name for an Interior Design firm would be: Interior Motives. What do you guys think? Or, it could make for a great tell-all/expose on the seedy inner-workings of the Department of Interior.

spreading cheer...

2006-12-12T19:01:00.000-08:00

To quote the ever timely Homer Simpson memory, "sometimes you've just got spoil yourself, spoil yourself, spoil yourself." Often the temptation to indulge in your own vices is magnified around the holidays. This is by design, as seductive sales lie in wait to snatch the extra money of those looking for an excuse to buy something. This isn't yet another anti-consumer/"what has happened to the holidays?" post, but rather, what are some benevolent ways to spoil yourself that don't require money, or better yet, benefit others in the process too?

This past Friday I found myself in the midst of a frenzy of activity. Studying for finals, trying to sell my car, wedding planning, apartment hunting, preparing for a sunday school lesson...What is a boy to do when the weight of the world is coming down on you? Run away from it. That's right, tuck your tail between your legs and wait for the storm to blow over.

One way I spoiled myself this past weekend was to go on a community bike ride/toy-collecting. It was a great deal of fun, for sure. I met up with a group of bicycle enthusiasts who've dubbed themselves the Midnight Ridazz, for their propensity to ride around town during the wee hours of the night. Last time I went on a Midnight Ridazz run I wasn't asleep in my bed until after three thirty. It's well worth it though, the LA weather really makes for great night riding. Los Angeles is a great city to bike (more so at night). But I digress...

I packed my bag with some holiday cheer, and we were on our way. It's always better to ride with friends than ride alone. On Friday I was riding with Lee. Lee's from Madison, likes Badger football, and rides a nice Bianchi road bike. After meeting up at UCLA we headed down to the Culver City Trader Joe's to meet up with our satellite group. See, this ride was actually a synthesis of many different groups converging on the City of Hope like an unstoppable rebel force... all for the kids.

Here is a four-day-late approximation of our route. It's pretty close to exact.... although my legs told me it was more like 40 miles as opposed to 36.

This wasn't without its pit stops of course. There were plenty, and now I'm wishing I had done a better job of capturing the moment. See, I don't have a digital camera, so when moments come I have to rely on my cell phone, while handy, it's kind of embarrassing. As all of the groups leaving the various city converged on our final destination, the stream of bikes got thicker and thus our paced slowed to a really pleasant cruise...

As I was starting to take in all of the sites and smells... I saw a familiar face in front of me. At first I wasn't sure, but he was on a really really nice bike. Then I heard him speak to one of his friends... and it was confirmed. I was riding right behind Jason Lee. Some of you might know him as the professional skateboarder. Then turned Kevin Smith-Movie regular... and now undoubtedly famous as the star of NBC's Thursday night darling, My Name is Earl. I didn't want to ruin his ride, nor be "that guy" who acts like an idiot and makes a big deal of it... but it was really cool to see him out there as I find him incredibly talented and funny. Word on the street was that Giovanni Robisi was there too, but he slipped under my ride-dar... get it. Mmm, bad puns. They are like Pie Heaven.

Once at the destination there was a lot of music, riders checking out each others bikes, some dancing, drinking and socializing. Lee and I hung out for a while, got a free water... ate the rest of the kettle corn that I had stashed in my bag... and called it a night. And by called it a night, I mean rode about 20 miles back home through Los Angeles. Very fun.

Have you guys been successful in spoiling yourself this season? In what ways do you like to indulge? Some of you may ask "how is riding around on your bike for 40 miles an indulgence?" To that I say, when you could be studying for a quantitative analysis final that took over 6 hours to complete, any alternative is an indulgence.

Just wanted to share my adventure with you guys. Hope you are having an excellent Holiday season. Almost done with finals. Seasons Greetings.

liars

2006-12-06T07:01:00.000-08:00

I totally want to be this kind of liar. Not the kind of liars that are rife within UCLA. Apparently, all the "undgergrads" refer to themselves as a "one year," "two year," etc...

At first I thought they were telling me they were law students, as it was my understanding that sometimes jd's-in-embryo refer to themselves in a like manner (or, one-l, two-l, three-l). But then I found out they weren't esquires-almost, but in fact... just freshmen or sophomores.

What's up with that? You aren't good enough to call yourself what everyone else in American-academia has dubbed you? Stupid. It's fun calling yourself a senior, not a "four year."

I guess I should've been tipped off by the playing with pogs and quoting napoleon dynamite, and well...they look like 12 year olds. That's my fault, my powers of perception, normally as sharp as a rapier, were blinded by semantics.

yours truly,

mr. 5th year

gimme a break

2006-12-04T07:01:00.000-08:00

Hi guys. Lowercase numbers is going to go on a brief sabbatical for a fortnight. I'm most assuredly making a bigger deal out of this than it really is, but I like to keep you guys "in the know" so you don't think I'm permanently abandoning you. This is my last week of class before finals, so it's review time, big time. While preparing for my first round of finals for my Masters, I'm also working on finding a place to live for me and the future Mrs. Pulsipher. These two objectives will be taking up most of my time, so blogging will be put on the backburner, albeit temporarily.

Rest assured when I come back I'll have a slew of delightful tales for you guys, so don't stray too far. Happy Holiday season everyone.

post script:
come to think of it, I do have a few ideas for a couple of "miniature" entries (somewhat atypical) that I can do, so please check back. What I'm saying is, the normal format will be hibernating, cheers.

have you ever wondered...

2006-11-30T07:00:00.000-08:00

What would happen if two pair of identical twins married each other, and then had children? I had this thought while in the shower the other night. It was such a revolutionary thought, I decided to write about it.

Think about it, identical twins have the exact same DNA. So if you take two sets of identical twins, and they marry each other. You have two sets of people with identical DNA. But think about their children! Their children would be, for all intents and purposes, identical to each other as well. Cousins, yet as close as siblings. Would their sons and daughters all look like each other? What do you think? I know this is mind-blowing transitive logic, so just let it simmer and get back to me when you've got something delicious to contribute.

lessons learned...

2006-11-28T07:01:00.000-08:00

Welcome back readers. I'm sitting on my couch, watching Monday Night Football, pondering the lessons I learned this Thanksgiving break. I'd like to share them with you.

If you are a student, or a professional... don't bother bringing home work with you. All the books, documents, memos, or other miscellaneous vestiges of your daily life just serve as needless weight and clutter in your packing scheme. I know how it starts... as you beginning folding clothes you note the space you have for the aforementioned goods and your mind begins to play tricks on you. It says things like "do you know how much free time you'll have?" "Wouldn't it be so nice to get ahead." Of course is the resounding answer, and quickly you find yourself duped into one of life's greatest schemes, the idea of getting ahead on the holidays. It doesn't happen. Not for normal people. When you find yourself in a turkey/pumpkin pie induced coma on the couch... who are you going to turn to? Your course reader on urban economics, or the remote to see what's on after the Golden Girls marathon. That's what I thought...

Don't drive to LA from Vegas on a Sunday. Especially a Sunday that is ending Holiday travel. This weekend I drove in the most miserable traffic I have ever been in in my entire life. Hours and hours of traffic. Miserable, soul-sucking, morale-killing, eye-gouging... traffic. Words can't even begin to describe how unpleasant it was. Avoid driving in these circumstances at all costs. I think I lost ten years off my life expectancy that night.

You should watch a Christian Bale movie, or two. Wednesday night we saw The Prestige and it freaking blew me away. I thought about it for days. A couple nights later I watched The Machinist. Yikes, will that movie kill a good mood. Not a bad movie, it's just... well, seeing a Christian Bale play a 120 lb, insomniac drill press operator isn't exactly the "feel good" movie of the year. Still, he's an amazing actor and I look forward to seeing more of his films. Even Little Women ; )

Don't get up immediately after having eaten a big meal and subsequently laying down for an hour to go to the bathroom. I speak from experience. Here's how it went down, or... I went down for that matter. I had just indulged on two mammoth turkey sandwiches and was enjoying the comfort of a warm fire and a comfy couch. After dozing off for about an hour, I promptly got up to go to the bathroom. As I was using the bathroom, I began to feel VERY nauseated and leaned over to steady myself by putting my putting my hand on the top part/tank of the toilet.

And that's the last thing I remember. I shall now go to other's words for an account of what happened.

"We heard a big crash. It sounded like you dropped something. When we shouted your name and you didn't respond, we ran to the bathroom door. We said your name again, and no response. We then tried to open the door but it was obvious that something was obstructing it (ie, my big passed out body). After shouting your name a couple of times you responded, rolled over so we could open the door and see what happened."

So then I came to. I heard my brother calling my name, and I seriously felt like I had been sleeping. I woke up on my back, on the floor of my bathroom. I'm seriously lucky that I didn't pass out and drown in the toilet, or bang my head on something. Also lucky that: 1. I didn't lock the door 2. I didn't soil myself 3. Somehow my pants were in a modest position when I came to.

Ashley and Ian were right there, and I kind of felt like an idiot. But at the same time, it was kind of a cool experience because seriously how many times do you pass out in your life time? It made me really jealous of God or others with omniscience because I think the visual of me leaning over to balance myself and then falling down in the bathroom would've been hysterical. All I got to show for it was a headache, a bruise on my left shin (banged on the toilet?) and a sore left bicep (must've fallen down on my left side).

What lessons did you learn this holiday? When is the last time you passed out/fainted? Please share with me your entertaining stories concerning life's little practical joke, passing out.

giving thanks

2006-11-20T07:00:00.000-08:00

Remember these guys? Given the fact that I never exhibited any skill in drawing, I think it's safe to assume that my artistic career reached its zenith with the hand-turkey. It's where utility and creativity intersect.

I'm full of thoughts as we approach this time of year. I think many miss out on the great opportunity to think of the things they have to be grateful for... to some its an excuse for gluttony. If they could even be grateful for their gluttony, that would be a step in the right direction. One family tradition that I enjoy is going around the table and hearing what everyone is grateful for. It usually brings out a few beautiful expressions of emotion from everyone, and I cherish those memories.

Tomorrow I'm taking my computer in to get serviced... and in conjunction with traveling back to Colorado via the great American highway system (thanks Dwight!), I'll be electronically-out-of-pocket for a while. Not that you'll miss me, you'll all be wrapped up in your own worlds, eating good food, watching football, being with those you love... etc.

If you normally don't get the chance to express what you are grateful for at Thanksgiving dinner... I encourage you to do so. And if you don't want to do it then, you can do it now. Join me:

I'm grateful for my family. They are a solid foundation of love and happiness.
I'm grateful to be in school, a good school, studying precisely what fascinates me with the world.
I'm grateful for health.
I'm grateful to be able to ride my bike to/from school. Winding through traffic and passing people in their cars gives me a new sense of freedom and enjoyment that I wish other people could enjoy.
I'm grateful for you readers... the few... the faithful. You make setting some extra time aside, every so often... really worth it. I appreciate you taking your time to read my blog. I try really hard to make this a place that is fun to visit. I hope you stick around.
Finally, I'm grateful for my fiance Ashley. She is my happiness/contentment personified. She gives me hope for the future, and helps me feel like I can accomplish anything. I'm so so so excited to become a little family. I love you.

Have a very safe, fun, thank-filled Thanksgiving.

pity party, you're invited

2006-11-16T07:01:00.000-08:00

They say when you die of hypothermia, everything slows down and you just fall asleep. I've always questioned the verity of things "they say" because how do they know that things slow down, are they asking the person in the middle of dying "so, would you say things are speeding up, or slowing down?" And what is that in relation to? It sounds like something that I heard on Unsolved Mysteries, come to think of it.

I think I've heard "they say" that drowning is a commensurate experience to hypothermia. I'm not sure where I heard that either, but doesn't it sound legitimate? This week I've seriously felt like I was drowning, but I can tell you that my life did not slow down as the darkness came in from my periphery. It was like more like a million little hobgoblins rummaging through my life, dumping out my wallet, ripping up my papers, writing bad checks. That kind of mischief. Has life ever bombarded you with a million things at once and you felt completely inadequate to do them all well? That's kind of what's going on with me right now and I'd like to hear your silver lining stories right now if you've got any.

But first, let me build the case for my pity party.

I'm trying to sell my stupid car on craigslist and all of the prospective buyers are flakey mcflakersons. Breaking appointments, not calling me back. I know I shouldn't expect much from a free listing service, but still. I want to unload this thing so I can get my home in order. Please someone buy my car.

Tangential to this is finances. Who doesn't worry about those? I do, I tell you what... I'd be much happier if someone bought my car. It says negotiable people, c'mon, don't you know that's layman's terms for I'm selling this because I need a new kidney.

School is kicking my butt. My qualitative analysis class is a freaking nightmare. I don't get 90% of the material, the 10% of it I do get is about consumer economics and mortgages, and how I'll essentially never be able to afford a home. 30 years, compound interest, 20% down payments... talk about kicking me while I'm down.

What else can I complain about... hmm... adding insult to injury, is a literal injury. My back woes have popped up like an unwelcomed distant relative at a will-reading. I'm getting physical therapy, and I found out that my stellar-student health insurance has a $450 deductible on physical therapy. Thanks for nothing...

Ok, life isn't all that bad. I'm really enjoying my bike, and of course I'm madly in love. Let's turn this into a pity party shall we? Tell me all the things that are going wrong in your life and we can all feel sorry for each other. Go on, you know it'll feel good.

knee-jerk

2006-11-13T07:01:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had the experience where some sort of outside stimulus creates an involuntary repulsion? I'm not talking about pulling your hand away from the stove sort of thing, I'm talking about someone telling a story about how they love warm egg salad sandwiches with miracle whip on a July afternoon and you dry heave without thinking twice? I find these automatic behaviors absolutely hysterical, and of course incredibly accurate in revealing who we really are.

Sometimes I'm afraid that in my most uninhibited state my gut reaction is that of a... a jerk. For example, when a person acts like an idiot on the road (delaying, hesitant, not merging fast enough), I want to yell at them. Without even thinking about it. When people are standing in a thoroughfare and clogging my passage, my instinct isn't to wait for them to become aware of my presence, rather... my gut tells me to barge right through them and tell them to "excuse me" as I gruffly go about my way. I don't of course, but that is my first instinct.

Before you go and tar me a tyrant, I think I have more benevolent reactions within. When I see babies I definitely want to snuggle them. Snuggle them and kiss their chin. I don't know what it is about a baby's chin, but they seem like the perfect thing to kiss. Even if they are covered in drool. Big deal. I mean look at this chin for pete's sake and tell me you don't want to kiss it. (not mine)

All this baby kissing has made me think about politics. Now there is a fine subject for knee-jerks. I'm sorry, but when I see our president on television, I get really angry. It makes me really embarrassed that the chief diplomat of our country talks like a good ole boy, chuckles at inappropriate times, and stammers like some sort of freshman in a public speaking class. I just wish the face of America were a little more polished. Thank heavens for Decision: 2006. I can finally start being optimistic about politics again.

When I started out this blog, I thought it was going to be this "insider look" at Washington through my experiences, discourse on politics, culture, etc... Somewhere along the way I realized that not only was that incredibly boring, but politics in general don't really unite people. If anything is evident from these last two presidencies, politics has done more for polarizing our country than unifying it. It takes a 9/11, a tsunami, or a Katrina to bring us together... sad.

Going into this holiday season, I'm going to examine my own life so I can take the "jerk" out of my gut reactions. I want to focus on bringing people together. Friends, family, neighbors. I think what our communities, cities, states and nation needs now more than ever, is people who are trying to heal/connect, not prosper through division like colonizing powers of previous times.

What are some of your knee-jerk reactions? What sort of behaviors will help you, and where you live become better? These questions really interest me as I come to a close on my first quarter of my masters in urban planning. I really do want to make communities stronger, safer, and more enjoyable. I want people to love where they live... my personal belief is that the more connected you feel to your environment, the happier you will be. This may seem like common sense, but some people think that if "they just had a better job, a better car, a relationship..." whatever, then they would be happy. I think your personal ecology, the status of your interactions with your environment is much more important. I often threw in this pitch when I was the president of the tour guides at the University of Colorado. It is such a beautiful campus, rated the most beautiful public university in the United States. I would tell prospective students & their families that a key part of their education was being content with where they were at, not just because of the merits of the school or if all of their friends were going there, but if they were genuinely happy and appreciative of living in a beautiful place.

I believe that recognizing our human need to be inspired and comforted by our physical surroundings will help bring our nation together. I also believe that breaking our fetish for pandering to the whims of automobile-centric planning will also help people be less like animals, and more like human beings. I think it will be great when we live in a world where we don't have the option to shut ourselves inside a socially retardant enclave, going straight from the house, to the garage, to the office, back to the garage, to the house. Limit our time in direct sunlight as much as possible. Don't talk to anyone. Distancing ourselves from our environment as much as possible.

If you made it through all of this... I'd like to hear your thoughts.

my first mass

2006-11-08T07:01:00.000-08:00

While I've been a faithful Mormon my entire life, I've never had the opportunity to attend an actual mass ceremony. I've heard that "Midnight Mass" is kind of a fun event around Christmas time. But I'm not going to lie, the idea of going to a different church (when mine is already three hours) at an unearthly hour has never really appealed to me. I'm probably going to get blasted for that, but hey... This is my blog and I tell it like it is.

I did go to my first mass last Friday. No, not the Catholic variety, the bicycle kind. I attended the Santa Monica Critical Mass ride and had an amazing time. What is critical mass you might ask... well, in their own words: Critical Mass is not an organization, it's an unorganized coincidence. It's a movement ... of bicycles, in the streets. It goes on further Critical mass is a celebration of cycling, not a war against motorists. Critical Mass is about asserting our right to the road, not denying others their right to the road.

I got invited to this little "unorganized" event by a guy at the UCLA bike shop named Mikey. He told me about the ride, and to look it up online. Which I did. They looked like a harmless enough group, and me not wanting to spend a Friday night at home alone watching re-runs of Designing Women and eating chex mix, I pedaled on over to see what the fuss was about.

Given my somewhat recent (although thoroughly committed) zeal toward bikes, I was a little worried that I'd stick out like a sore thumb, or that my presence would be detected as someone who did not belong, or far worse, a "pretender." I took a picture on my phone the moment I arrived.

Around 6:30 people started to gather, with an estimated departure scheduled for seven. My initial qualms were quickly negated as I saw people on all sorts of bikes pull up. Old burn outs on cruisers, sorority girls, indie kids on retro bikes, beach cruisers, little kids on bmx bikes, old couples... it was really really easy to tell that everyone belonged. That was a relief. Once everyone had gathered, we went over the route, but pretty much agreed to just follow the leaders. It was a lot of fun, a horde of bikes riding down the streets of LA and Santa Monica.

The pace was very comfortable, easy enough for everyone to keep up. There were a few stops along the way. This stop we talked about a housing development that was being closed, torn down, for a newer/sexier development. One of the riders worked at a local radio station and was obviously into the activist scene. He told us stories about 80 year old women getting kicked out of their apartments. A sad tale if it is in fact the case, but it also seems like that is the token "rally the mindless mob" tear-jerker tale. Here you can see me engrossed in the story:

After that, the group decided that it wanted to head down to Venice toward the beach and ride out on to the pier. It actually shoots way out into the ocean so by the time you hit the end, you feel like you are in the middle of the ocean, no joke. Once we got there everyone got off their bikes and associated with one another. I didn't talk to anyone, as I wasn't particularly feeling gregarious or outgoing. I was kind of hoping someone would talk to me. Here's me post ride:

It was a lot of fun, and I plan to do it again. There are many Critical Mass groups/rides that happen through out the city, this one takes place on the first Friday of every month. If you are in the area and want some wholesome entertainment, you should join me. I just wanted to share this experience with you because it was so much fun, and free. Seriously you guys, there is a revolution sweeping the nation and you should get in on it now. It's called getting around for free and being healthy. Every day I ride through the streets of West LA and pass people stuck in their cars, angry at the person ahead of them. I think they secretly envy me, even though they'd never admit it. Unless you live in Alaska (ryan), you need to get your butt on a bike. It will change your life. Los Angeles... already starting to grow on me...

post script:
I've decided to abandon my old blog theme of Mr. Pulsipher... I was tired of it, and it no longer indicates the brand of my blog. So there you have it, the new name, in all its glory. Pass it on.

health insurance *waaawwp wooowwww

2006-11-06T07:00:00.000-08:00

I know that many of you out there have health insurance and take it for granted. Big assumption, I think not. I had it for five straight years and didn't think much of it until I didn't have it. Something about crippling sciatica will do that to you. Now that I'm a student I'm back to enjoying the benefits of feeling like the healthcare world loves me.

Last week my back started giving me a little bit of trouble so I went to the Health Center to get it checked out. It was a real riot, I mean when else would I get to wear a lovely little number outfitted by Brawny? [click that link, anyone notice that they up and switched Brawny men on us? Call me crazy, but the dude used to have a mean head of blonde/auburn hair with a mustache. Now he's a tall, dark haired drink of water. What's up with that?] I went to get x-rays of my back and the assistant had me slip on my super absorbent frock. Not sure how paper towels are any less transparent than my normal clothes to x-rays, but whatever. Don't you remember those x-ray goggles? Wasn't the premise that you could see through any type of clothes? I digress...

So I the good news (I guess) is that they didn't find anything abnormal going on in my lower back. Pretty odd, because I would say that for the better part of a year I've been having a pretty strong weakness in my back, but hey, what do I know? She recommended that I get physical therapy. So I checked it out and the visits cost $65 bucks until I reach my $450 deductible. What a freaking racket right?

When I was on my mission in England I got my head cracked open and had to get stitches. At first I was concerned with how I was going to pay for this... but then I heard one of the most beautiful phrases ever uttered. "Don't worry mate, it's free."

I know there are a lot of advocates out there who worry about the quality of healthcare going down the toilet if there was some sort of nationalized health care system. I don't really want to get into that debate, other than the fact that the people making this argument can afford health insurance, whereas you don't really have the poor making the same argument. They'd be happy to get anything.

Instead, I'd like to turn this post into a place where we could exchange a few moments of hilarity regarding trips to the doctor. Other than the paper towel gown, let me think of some funnier moments.

Ok. One time in middle school I had to get a physical for baseball or football or something. Do girls have to do this, or just boys? For some reason I've never heard of girls getting physicals for sports. I'm not saying they don't, just that I'm not familiar with the process. So anyway, off to the doctor I go and obviously the most humiliating part of the test is the "hernia" check. I distinctly remember the doctor telling me to pull down my "shorts and underwear" but for some odd reason I didn't wear underwear that day. Really odd. Adding to the humiliation of my nether-regions being on public display, was the fact that I wasn't wearing underwear. At least I didn't have a hernia, so it can't be all that bad.

Hmm, I'm still not ready to divulge the sordid details of my trip to the urologist... what else can I mention? Well, this is kind of medical related. Earlier this year I donated blood. It was my first time, although I had previously given blood for lab tests and stuff so I wasn't too worried. I talked big talk. However, once I found myself in the van with all of these flaccid arms dangling around with blood coming out of them, combined with a heavy smell of anti-septic, I almost fainted. It was nuts, There were a bunch of people between me and the door, and I knew that I had to get out of there stat. I just sort of mumbled "get me the hell out of here" as I wrestled my way to the door. The fresh air helped immediately. I got back in, got my bearings, and donated blood. Success.

I know there have got to be some gems out there, please share them with me.

* in case you aren't familiar with that onomatopoeia, it is derived from the SNL skit: Debbie Downer. Debbie, played by Rachel Dratch is notorious for her comments that spoil a good conversation. When Debbie makes a comment, it is followed by a very amusing trumpet, bugle type action.

and the winners are...

2006-11-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago I stumbled upon this fun little page in an attempt to explain how I became the victim of a peeping tom. I opened up the polls to see what kind of creative genius my readers would come up with. The responses were few, but good. With promises of a great "prize" you guys went to work. Here are the results:

My niece Maxine set the bar pretty high with her undeniably cute approach at drawing her uncle David. Although I specifically told her to not draw me the time I wore a moo moo.

Mother of my creative niece Maxine, Dawn shows that she was completely up to the task by accurately portraying a happy mommy/daughter ride through the streets of St. Louis. Well done Dawn.

Mike was drawing a computer... but then got tired.

Here we have a lovely interpretation of what my neighbor might have been thinking, provided by my former college roommate and dear friend Ryan.

Everyone's favorite san-fran-sweetheart, Reba tried to shame me into not riding a bike by intimidating me with thoughts of getting hit by a truck, hitchhiking, or uncool rolled up pants. But guess what Reba, I kind of like that look. It means I'm hardcore. You do however get a massive amount of points for your attention to detail and your willingness to stay "on topic."

To top off all of these great entries, was the submission from the love of my life, Ashley. She's an absolute doll and I'm so grateful for her. In case you didn't know, we are getting married here December 29th. If you want to come to a bitchin party, save the date.

Thanks to all you guys. I don't have classes on Friday, so for all intents and purposes Thursday is my Friday. Have a good weekend. Oh, and make sure you catch the season premiere of America's greatest television show tonight on Fox.

good bye old friend...

2006-10-31T07:00:00.000-08:00

For over six years now, I have been an ardent supporter/adorner of the soul patch. I'm not sure how or why I started doing it. It just seemed like something to do. I wore it for such a long time, that I didn't even think about shaving around during my semi-weekly shaves. During that six year period, I only shaved it off twice, and I didn't like the results. I grew it back immediately.

Previous to this, I had been growing a nice frenchman mustache but had to shave it off so I could look a little bit more like the dictator I was going as. It was successful I guess, I mean, as successful as a 6'4" white guy can get trying to be the doppleganger to everyone's favorite North Korean personality.

So now I was sans mustache (that I had gotten a few compliments on, I might add), but of course left the soul patch (wikipedia has some other charming names for it, I had only previously heard: stinger, flavor saver, and "gar") without thinking about it. During a discussion with Ashley about this facial feature, I asked her if it made kissing uncomfortable at all. She answered very diplomatically, knowing my fragile ego... but it struck me that it was maybe time to give the royale (where were you earlier wikipedia, I would've been calling it this years ago) the old heave-ho.

So off it came last night. I must confess that my lower lip feels a little naked. I wonder if my skin is more apt to get a sunburn there because it has been shielded all these years. This really is a big step, even for such a small swath of hair. I really identified with that little guy. Subtle, not going anywhere... making a statement.

This facial hair genesis has made me think about new beginnings, and the impetus for them. Sheepishly, I must confess that this was probably way overdue. I mean, can anything grooming-wise be in vogue for more than six consecutive years? I doubt it. Well, now that we mention it. I have been wearing sideburns since senior year in high school, and that is now coming up on ten whole years. But I see sideburns more as a preference as opposed to a "style." Thank you cast of 90210 for paving the way.

As always, I like to steer this into a forum for discourse. Stories/personal experiences including (but not limited to) bad facial hair, grooming trends, new beginnings, my soul patch, your preferences on facial hair etc are encouraged and anticipated.

post script:
Happy Halloween. The drawing contest winners will be posted later this week

hallow's eve

2006-10-27T11:00:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about halloween.

Halloween is certainly one of my favorite holidays... but not for the conventional reasons. Most holidays summon memories of family banter, food, friendly environments, maybe even gifts and festive decorations. To me, halloween is a stark departure from anything familial or belly filling. Halloween to me has more to do with belly exposing.

One thing that I absolutely love about halloween is that it's a chance to have a lot of fun, to not be serious, and make other people laugh. It is can be a literal, physical manifestation of how witty or clever you are. Or, how unhinibited/self effacing you are. Where all of this metaphysical hoopla comes to fruition is in the choice of the costume.

When it comes to choosing a costume, there are many routes to go. Although it may not seem like it when you attend parties year after year and see the same old crap. The movie Mean Girls adequately describes this interplay, in essence for some women halloween becomes a permit to dress as slutty as they want without actually branding themselves a promiscuous woman. Little do they know that they do this all year (in my eyes) by rocking the french manicure. Just my opinion, but I've always correlated a french manicure with not being overly picky with your intimate partners...

I think the essence of a good costume for men is showing as much skin as possible. We all know that the male human body was not crafted for its aesthetics. The male body is a structure of utility. Bigger muscles & frames, our bodies were not meant to be featured by the worlds' most famous artists (although there are a few wonderful exceptions). Most men (me included), aren't completely in John Basedow form. So, there definitely takes some confidence to let it sag or hang out. What kind of costume am I hinting at? Oh, I don't know... swimmers, lifeguards, russian beach-front tourists, shirtless hillbillies. Let your mind wander. Make no mistake, this is not an invitation for ripped guys to show off the guns in an attempt to give everyone a peak at your chiseled bod, rather this is a time for all of us with less than perfect bodies to have a laugh at our expense. Of course it's a risky/bold move.... but after all these years do you want to be remembered as the ten thousandth dude who came as the leopard print 70's pimp (so played), or do you want to be remembered as the guy who came as baywatch Hasselhoff circa 1991? The defense rests your honor.

Ladies, you are under an equal obligation to wow and wonder the party. But please don't wow us by dressing up in lingerie, adding a cat tail and some drawn on whiskers and calling yourself a cat. I don't know any cats that wear lingerie, nor cats that blatantly flaunt their sexuality. Pick something that will make us think for a second... and then when we figure it out, we are completely drawn to your charmingly witty-magnetism. Good examples I've seen/heard about, pregnant katie holmes, coked out kate moss, hurricane katrina, a foosball player... just to name a few.

This year I'm not sure what I'm going to be. I'd really like to be kim jong il, I've also wanted to assemble three other male friends and do a barbershop quartet, or get a cadre of folks who all wanted to be a big mariachi band. Who knows what I'll decide on... but if I run short on ideas, I can always default on european tourist at the beach.

What are your thoughts about halloween? What do you plan on being this year?

privacy at the expense of liberty

2006-10-23T08:30:00.000-07:00

I was reading an interesting article written in the (gulp, embarrassed) USA Today (look I had to, it was for class, but seriously the USA Today is like a freaking tabloid, pictures, colors, it's nouveau yellow journalism) about Pay-as-you-Drive Insurance programs. I thought it was really interesting and wanted to get your thoughts on the matter.

So the premise is this: Voluntarily, drivers install these little gadgets under their steering columns that record how fast they go, and how many miles they drive during the billing period. Based on your usage, your rate can either decrease or remain the same. The idea being, the slower you go, and the less miles you drive, the less likely you are to get in an accident and hence be a liability risk.

A UK firm has taken the technology one step further, adding a GPS component to it that records what types of neighborhoods you are driving in, and at what times of day. So if you are frequenting burlesque houses at three in the morning down in the swanky streets of Sussex, you are going to have to pay the piper, or... Geico.

Again, all of these programs are voluntary and are being conducted on a trial basis to see how drivers respond. I would love to participate in a program like this. The results have found that the average person has cut their premiums by over 12%, and it has also made people more conscious of the speeds they drive. Reports have shown that people haven't drastically cut their mileage, but they do decrease their speed. Isn't that fantastic?

I'm sure there are some privacy nuts out there who would be up in arms about their driving habits being monitored, but if the price is right... would they be willing to reconsider? Of course this is somewhat invasive, but it begs the question "how much do you value your privacy?" Can you ascribe a dollar value to it? I think this is a win win win situation. Less consumption of a rapidly depleting fossil fuel. Insurance companies get slower, safer drivers. Drivers save money on insurance and gas. Genius. Would you guys be willing to participate in something like this? Or do you not like the idea of having your driving life monitored?

love at first sight

2006-10-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

Friends, neighbors, esteemed readers and associates. Would you please look at that fine piece of machinery before you? If it doesn't take your breath away, then perhaps the mental image of me careening through the streets of the city of Angels with out a care in the world will?

Today I got my bike. I've been talking about it for so long, I know that Ashley is probably sick of it. I really can't tell you how excited I am to completely transform my life. Of course it is a little intimidating. Being on the road next to people in their tanks as they do their make up, hair, read the New Yorker, or sip their Starbucks... how can I reasonably expect them to be aware of me.

Fortunately, I've been scouring the internets for information on bike safety and commuter tips. I swear I've read everything thrice. It is funny though, it is certainly a quirky little niche I'm entering. The realm of the cyclist. I'm looking forward to it, but my nascent enthusiasm doesn't negate my qualms.

But back to love at first sight. When I first saw my bike I could seriously not stop grinning. The ever-so-friendly gentleman assembling my bike at Veloworx commented that my bike was so becoming, he wanted to get one.

Some of you may be asking, "But David, I know that you are kind of irrational when it comes to locking things. Why, I've even heard that you may be a harpaxophobic?" Oh, my doubting friends... I'm one step ahead of you. I told you that I had been searching on the internets, of course I took time to read about bicycle security. I think I've got it covered. I hope of course. You can kind of buy peace of mind, can't you?

This post isn't really going anywhere, and I apologize. I just wanted to boast about my new method of environmentally friendly transport.

If you recall, last post I said I was starting a competition using that drawing website. I would like you guys to reconsider your lack of participation. I know that in the past I've promised rewards. This time I really aim to make good on my promise. Make a drawing about riding a bike, or reading my blog, or surfing the internets. Winner will be posted next week.