I’ve finally started going to the gym again – so I’m also catching up on many episodes of Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me podcasts.
Doug Glanville, former major league baseball player, was on Wait, Wait last weekend – and he told a really great story. Apparently, when he signed with the Phillies after playing for the Cubs, the local fans in Philadelphia really did their homework on him. Glanville had attended Penn, where he’d majored in engineering – and his senior thesis was to design a new ballpark at the 30th St. Station in Philadelphia. Armed with this knowledge, a fan in the stadium who was unhappy with Glanville’s .180 batting average at the start of the season, yelled from the stands, “Hey Glanville! Why don’t you design a stadium you can hit in?”
Seriously, that has to be the all-time best heckle in a ball park.
And speaking of Wait, Wait, Mo Rocca won the prize for best line of the show this week, responding to an item about ads on the moon. A 45-second clip is below. Have a listen.
A longer, better quality preview clip of “Celebration” can be heard on Amazon here. Available for purchase on August 4. I am both kvelling and plotzing.
Apparently the “Antioch Shrine Funster Clown Unit” (yikes, even that name sends a chill down my spine) bid a farewell to one of their fellow Punchinellos, as he shuffled off in his big shoes to that little tiny car in the sky. And to see him off in style, they showed up in full regalia. Godspeed to you, Pierrot… “A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants…”
Requiscat in Pace, Amicus
I've been waiting for you... Yes, I've been waiting for you for a very long time...
I never do good deeds with the intent of trying to tip the karmic scales in my favor… But after last weekend, I thought I was due for a little of the good stuff. To wit:
On Saturday, I helped two ladies in from the ‘burbs, searching for the Orpheum Theater (for a matinee of “Wicked”). They were on the corner of Post and Mason, so they were not quite on the right track. They wanted to walk – and they had plenty of time to do so – though I was sure to advise that while the walk to the theater was by no means dangerous, it was one of the less pleasant routes through the city. So, I also described the two MUNI options that would get them there – and agreed that a taxi would be easy and not expensive.
This isn’t much of “good deed” on my part, though – I guess it’s one of the ways that I show my pride in San Francisco. The City is not perfect (not even close) but I do love it – and I’m always happy to give directions or (better yet) tell some out-of-towners where to go for dinner (or where not to go…). Yes, I realize it’s out-of-character for a hardcore misanthrope such as myself – I suppose I’m influenced by the fact that I’ve been the grateful recipient of the kindness of strangers when I’m in a new city, so why not keep the karmic circle intact?
On Sunday, after a late breakfast and a trip to the Renegade Craft Fair, Chris and I were walking toward the Castro when we encountered Jack the dog. He was out for a walk and appeared to be alone – despite his collar and tags. He seemed to know where he was going, but we couldn’t really just leave him. We tried calling the numbers on the tag, but got an answering machine. Luckily, though, Jack’s address was also on the tag and it was just around the block.
So, off the three of us went, Jack waddling along beside us contentedly, until we got back to the flat listed as the address. The front door was open and Jack headed up the stairs. Chris ran up to make sure the dog belonged there and his visibly-stoned-but-very-grateful owner confirmed that he did.
Oh, and after we continued our walk to the Castro, Chris also picked up an errant sock, tossed by a toddler from his stroller, and returned it the parents. And yes I’m taking credit for this too, just because I happened to be there…
So why then has this week turned out to be so very irritating? By 10:30 Tuesday morning, I had declared the week both interminable and insufferable. It wasn’t just any one thing – lots of tiny things, piling up on one another: the more annoying of my colleagues ramped up their annoying-ness to new levels; the woman in front of me at the soup place who held up the whole line at every step of her transaction; the slack-jawed numb-skulls milling about in the lobby of 1 Market, yukking it up and completely oblivious to the fact that they were blocking everybody trying to go in or out; the freak who lives in the apartment below us who is stinking up the whole third floor with his over-abundance of Glade Plug-ins; the California budget-crisis-and-nude-beach-crackdown; the cold and the damp; the fact that I spent most of Friday setting up a new e-mail template for work, then stupidly over-wrote the data with another e-mail and had to start again from scratch; that our apartment remains in semi-shambles due to the ongoing saga of the new electric heaters being installed.
Meh – I guess I’m just extra-crabby… It’s really the same trials and tribulations I suffer through week in and week out. But they seemed to weigh more heavily this week.
I suppose things can only get better. I am taking Monday off, so I have a nice long three-day weekend to look forward to… And I have physical therapy this afternoon, meaning I get to leave work early and should be home by 6:00 with a glass of wine in my hand and an 18-pound cat in my lap… And that’s certainly nothing to complain about.
Oh, and there was a highlight of the week… Getting to tell the classic “Mrs. Prussy” joke… That one never gets old.
What a fantastic image. They look like super-heroes…
Hindu devotees observe a solar eclipse through specially-designed viewing glasses as they take holy dips in the Sangam, the confluence of the Ganges, Yamuna and the mythical Sarawati River, in Allahabad, India.
I don’t know why I torture myself by watching the news in the morning. Today, for example, I had to see and hear Republican members of the state legislature crowing about what a bang-up job they did protecting the people of California – this after a budget was finally passed – by holding the line against any new taxes. This is a budget that slashes funding for health care and education; a budget shaped by Governor Schwarzenegger’s pledge to veto any budget that included any tax increase – because the last thing the state needs now is any enhancement to its revenue stream… And these fuckers – who’ve thrown a wrench into every compromise, who’ve refused to negotiate, who’ve acted like six-year-olds, unwilling to share their toys – are the same fuckers who start screaming about “the will of the people” when it comes to same-sex marriage. “How dare the courts try to countermand the WILL OF THE PEOPLE!” Well, you know what? Your crackpot ideas on taxation do not represent the will of the people, so how about you step aside?
And let’s not forget, this is same governor who just recently implemented a state sales tax increase… But that tax increase doesn’t count, apparently, since it is borne disproportionately by the poor and middle class. Of course, the Republicans never met a regressive tax they didn’t like – as long as people with the greatest ability to pay taxes aren’t required to do so, then their job is done.
Not that the Democrats are doing much better. “We did not eliminate or completely shred the safety net in the state,” says Assembly Speaker Karen Bass. God love ya – really looking out for us little people, aren’t you? How about calling the governor on his unwillingness to negotiate in good faith? How about addressing this problem as if your constituents weren’t complete dullards – you know, explaining to them that the governor’s untenable “no taxes” position is the crux of the problem? How about simply growing a pair? You have majorities in both houses and you still allow a couple of Republicans to hold the entire state hostage. Why not go after them – make examples of them, get on the news, paint them as the scoundrels they are? And can we please get started on convening a constitutional convention?
I’m so sick and tired of the omnipresent myopia that seems to affect everyone with a finger in this shit pie. When will people finally connect the dots? Shitty schools means more people with shittier jobs – which means they’re paying less in taxes. Taking away access to routine health care means no preventive care – so the uninsured wait until they’re really ill and show up in emergency room. Instead of treating a minor illness with a handful of antibiotics, we see someone seriously ill, requiring thousands of dollars worth of care. We pay now or we pay later – but we pay in either case. There’s no free ride – though certainly the proactive “pay now” ride is a helluva lot cheaper than “pay later”.
I grew up here, getting a fantastic education in the San Francisco public school system and going on to graduate from the University of California. And I remember when our state was a beacon – the state that blazed the path for the nation, beckoning all with its limitless opportunities, great public school system and robust infrastructure. Then Prop 13 was passed – and so began the state’s slow but inexorable slide into insolvency and ungovernability.
At any rate, I have to stop – steam is literally (and by “literally” I mean “figuratively” as is the fashion these days) shooting out of my ears. Though I will finish up by pointing out what really set me off this morning. It was while one of those sanctimonious Republican fucktards was blithering that I saw the news crawl across the bottom of my TV: “California Given OK to Crack Down On Nude Beaches.” Because that clearly is the real problem facing our once-great state: nude beaches. Priorities, people! It’s all about priorities…
Here’s a link to a rather long but absolutely fascinating NYTimes article by Charles Siebert, about whales and their interactions with humans. A really great read…
Hello. I am an MAN looking for an WOMAN who is LAID BACK. I am 21 years old and I like to WATERSKIING and also to CAMPING. I am a good sense of humor with a fun and tall.
My favorite movies are TITANIC, FRIED GREEN TOMATOES, and [ERROR: MOVIE NOT FOUND], but I’m not into chick flicks.
I like to take my dog, MIFFY in the back seet of my HARLEY-DAVIDSON MOTOR CYCLE. Maybe you would like to ride with us?
My favorite music bands are ABBA, AC//DC, and AIROSMITH.
OK, it’s kinda lame, but certainly not the worst thing to ever appear on Craigslist… But when re-enacted live, it is truly excellent…
I boarded the 1-California yesterday afternoon, headed to see my physical therapist, and seated myself in one of the “backwards” facing rows toward the back of the bus – you know, the seats where you face another row of seats?
Oh, the humanity... And note my aggrieved forearm in close proximity to those layer-less tendrils...
At any rate, after a couple of stops, a young woman sat down next to me. Apparently, she doesn’t care to ride facing backwards (or maybe she was just a freak) – but whatever the reason, rather than sitting in the seat like a normal person and facing backwards, she sat facing to the side. I’m sure this was quite annoying to all of the passengers in the aisle, either standing or attempting to squeeze past her knees and legs in the aisle.
But what was even more annoying for me personally (and anything related to me personally is of greater import), was that her lank, far-too-long, scraggly, baby-fine hair was set aflutter at the merest hint of a breeze, thus coming into direct and repeated contact with my bare forearm, sending shudders of dread and disgust up and down my spine. Her hair didn’t seem especially filthy or lice-ridden – but I’m super-grossed out when a stranger’s hairs touch me. It’s awful…
I was tempted to move into the seat across from me – but then I’d have been sitting next to the typical a-hole male rider of public transit, who has to sit with his legs spread as wide as possible. Why do they do this? Is it to prove their virility? “Gee, my junk is so HUGE, I can’t put my legs together!”… I mean, my junk actually is huge and I manage to sit normally. Oh, and he was also reading a broadsheet-style newspaper wide open – apparently unfamiliar with the proper folding technique for reading the paper on the bus.
So, given a choice between being tormented by hair-touching or leg- and newspaper-touching, I chose the lesser of the two evils… But now I know how Odysseus must’ve felt when choosing between Scylla and Charibdis…
Carnitas burrito - and this is the "baby" size... I guess they mean it's the size of an actual human baby. Mmmm - babies...
Proving once again that you can’t believe everything y0u hear, I decided to pick up lunch at “Tulio’s Southwestern Grill” (yeesh – what moniker), formerly Pancho Villa Tacqueria. I was leery, as several reliable sources had indicated that the quality had nose-dived.
Well, my experience today was that this is certainly the best burrito within walking distance of my office - not that the competition is especially stiff (Rubio’s, Pedros and – by far the worst – 360° Burritos… which, as has been pointed out elsewhere, puts Romaine lettuce in it’s burritos. I repeat: Romaine lettuce. Vom.). But my Tulio’s burrito was quite tasty (maybe not quite as tasty as the old Pancho Villa days…) and whole avocado slices (rather than guacamole) remain an option.
While I’m quite fond of banana flavored items (banana cream pie, bananas foster, banana bread, roasted banana ice cream from Bi-Rite Creamery), I’m not a huge fan of eating bananas (well, except in the figurative sense). That being said, I wish I did eat bananas with frequency, just so I could follow this fascinating instruction video on opening a banana like a monkey – it is highly efficient and a huge improvement over traditional human methods of banana peeling. Chris (both a literal and figurative banana eater) tested the process as demonstrated and it worked like a charm. You’re welcome…
So, following in the tradition of my father and grandfather, I have taken up SLR photography. It’s the perfect hobby – lots of technical knowledge required and a virtually unlimited supply of expensive equipment… I have no idea what I’m doing (what exactly is depth-of-field? And the only aperture settings I know about aren’t on a camera – if you get my drift…). Nonetheless, I squeezed off a couple of good shots right out of the box – and I’ll be taking a photography class come September.
Oh, and I promise to start blogging again on a regular basis. Since I was mown down by a speeding Mazda my unfortunate bicycle accident, there’s been little to report – other than “Discharge from wound seems to be lessening”; “Rash in armpit”; and “Ow.” But I feel as close to normal as I have in sometime and the physical therapy I just started (with the very-hunky-but-stubbornly-clothed therapist) should have me back in shape by the time we head to NYC in August. Anyhoo, enjoy the photos… There’ll be plenty more…
Doug Glanville, former major league baseball player, was on Wait, Wait last weekend – and he told a really great story. Apparently, when he signed with the Phillies after playing for the Cubs, the local fans in Philadelphia really did their homework on him. Glanville had attended Penn, where he’d majored in engineering – and his senior thesis was to design a new ballpark at the 30th St. Station in Philadelphia. Armed with this knowledge, a fan in the stadium who was unhappy with Glanville’s .180 batting average at the start of the season, yelled from the stands, “Hey Glanville! Why don’t you design a stadium you can hit in?”
