As I am now unemployed, I find myself undertaking various tasks that are fitting to my current situation. Such as going out on a Monday night and then spending Tuesday wandering around in a fog until making macaroni and cheese for lunch sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea. We’re not talking about any fancy recipe mac and cheese here. We’re talking Kraft, fluorescent orange, mac and cheese. I didn’t even spring for the dinosaur shaped noodles. I keep it old school.
What is interesting is the amazingly detailed directions you find on the box. Not only do they tell you to boil water but they actually show you specifically what level to set the burner to. I find that very useful as I tend to view the kitchen the same as viewed my chemistry labs in college. I don’t want to be there, I have an unnerving sense that if I make a mistake I might end up in the hospital, and the only reason I’m going through with this is some misplaced opinion that it will one day impress a woman. Hence, when they tell me to use six cups of water I am measuring out exactly six cups of water. I use a stopwatch for cooking times. Kraft thankfully provides me with these important details as I settle down to cook (or at least make) mac and cheese. This is possibly because they made the instructions to be understood by a nine year old as opposed to someone with multiple degrees. Sometimes I’m amazed that I’ve made it this far on my own.
Next step on the unemployment express, getting me one of those General Grievous motorcycles as mentioned in the comments. Have to love any vehicle that takes the inherent instability of a motorcycle and ups it by essentially turning it into a motorized unicycle. It seems to be an awfully dangerous form of transportation for someone whose heart is exposed in a plastic container outside of his robotic body (wow, that is a metaphor for myself that I haven’t used yet.) Apparently the empire cut funding to their engineering schools because their designs are awfully flawed. Maybe they should consider outsourcing.
Switching gears, I did watch a bit of The Biggest Loser tonight. I couldn’t watch all of it mainly because I have gotten rather bored of watching grown men cry over how much weight that they’ve lost. I’ve never quite understood this aspect of reality shows. Every time someone is voted off there is a tearful goodbye to the point that you think that the contestant is going to be given the Old Yeller treatment as soon as they go off screen. When in reality they are going back home for a few blissful days of not being recorded every moment of every day. Sure, I understand why the losing contestant is crying because they could have won money if they stayed. But it’s not like the other contestants are never going to see him again.
Oh, and while flipping around the dial yesterday I found proof that by the end of the year everyone will be on television. Coming soon on Animal Planet “Groomer Has It”. Hosted by Jai, the culture guy from Queer Eye, this show features twelve dog groomers in competition to prove who has the top dog grooming skills. With elimination challenges and drama and intrigue and villains and what the hell am I writing here? It’s a show about people who cut dogs’ hair! A species that has existed for thousands of years without ever needing any additional grooming. At least on Top Chef I watch people cook and I do technically have to eat. The dog will just shed in summer. Yeah, it’s horrible for the carpet but at least it is not the basis of a game show. And people wonder why I’m so cynical.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Monday, April 07, 2008
Congrats to those in the Sunflower State
Sigh. I know I know. I’ve made a living, or at least as much of a living as one can make on a blog with no revenue stream, making fun of Kansas in general. But tonight I have to congratulate the Kansas Jayhawks and most valuable player Supernintendo Chalmers for winning the national championship tonight. I have to give them credit. A team that I constantly deride for folding and choking whenever things get tough made an amazing comeback. They didn’t give up, they made a huge steal when they needed it and they went for the kill in overtime. Congrats to all of those partying on Mass. Street and elsewhere tonight.
(I still stand by my belief that Bill Self is a toupee wearing traitor. I am an Illini after all. But I think I even like him more than Calapari, who makes me feel like I need to take a shower after just watching him coach.)
As opposed to writing a review of the game, which you’ll probably find elsewhere on the web written by people who actually took notes other than Chris Douglas-Roberts really should have just stayed with his maiden name, I have two commercials that I saw that I need to discuss. The first was I believe for Degree anti-preprint. This ad features our hero using degree before he rushes off to a futuristic business meeting. One that requires a jet pack and numerous technological advances to meet with his boss which is apparently a liquid metal robot. A robot who uses thousands of years of scientific advancement to determine whether or not he is sweating when he enters the room.
I have two issues with this ad. First off, what would the robot care if he was sweating or not? Does he have some incredible olfactory sensors built in to his design? Why would a robot be programmed to be incredibly sensitive to the point of being offended by biological based faux pas? That seems like a major waste of code. Secondly, if we are now at the point where we have jetpacks and liquid metal robots wouldn’t you think that we would be able to also invent some decent videoconferencing capabilities? Why in the world is this guy in such a hurry for a face to liquid metal construct meeting? Just set up a webcam. It would save a lot of effort.
The other was a Miller Lite ad for beer heaven. Obviously I am someone who has spent a lot of time dreaming of a beer heaven. Many nights have been spent at the end of the bar wondering just what a place would be like. They were right on many aspects. The beer that automatically moves from the bartenders hand to your own. The stool with your own name on it that turns into a recliner. Those I both dream of. However, the bartender was a dude, which wasn’t quite the way I envisioned it. While it was nice that the waitress didn’t shatter the bottles when she dropped them when she picked them up she didn’t turn to the guy and tell him to stop by after closing. And most importantly, it seemed like you were only able to order Miller Lite. Now I do drink Miller Lite, it is my default beer of choice when I really don’t care what I am drinking, but I would hope to have other options in beer heaven. A keg of Boulevard Wheat. The occasional Guinness. A Pilsner Urquell always at the ready. That is my idea of heaven.
Speaking of that, I am rather confident that there is a large party going on down the block from me right now. I’ve been ordered out drinking so that others can live vicariously through me. Good enough reason for me.
(I still stand by my belief that Bill Self is a toupee wearing traitor. I am an Illini after all. But I think I even like him more than Calapari, who makes me feel like I need to take a shower after just watching him coach.)
As opposed to writing a review of the game, which you’ll probably find elsewhere on the web written by people who actually took notes other than Chris Douglas-Roberts really should have just stayed with his maiden name, I have two commercials that I saw that I need to discuss. The first was I believe for Degree anti-preprint. This ad features our hero using degree before he rushes off to a futuristic business meeting. One that requires a jet pack and numerous technological advances to meet with his boss which is apparently a liquid metal robot. A robot who uses thousands of years of scientific advancement to determine whether or not he is sweating when he enters the room.
I have two issues with this ad. First off, what would the robot care if he was sweating or not? Does he have some incredible olfactory sensors built in to his design? Why would a robot be programmed to be incredibly sensitive to the point of being offended by biological based faux pas? That seems like a major waste of code. Secondly, if we are now at the point where we have jetpacks and liquid metal robots wouldn’t you think that we would be able to also invent some decent videoconferencing capabilities? Why in the world is this guy in such a hurry for a face to liquid metal construct meeting? Just set up a webcam. It would save a lot of effort.
The other was a Miller Lite ad for beer heaven. Obviously I am someone who has spent a lot of time dreaming of a beer heaven. Many nights have been spent at the end of the bar wondering just what a place would be like. They were right on many aspects. The beer that automatically moves from the bartenders hand to your own. The stool with your own name on it that turns into a recliner. Those I both dream of. However, the bartender was a dude, which wasn’t quite the way I envisioned it. While it was nice that the waitress didn’t shatter the bottles when she dropped them when she picked them up she didn’t turn to the guy and tell him to stop by after closing. And most importantly, it seemed like you were only able to order Miller Lite. Now I do drink Miller Lite, it is my default beer of choice when I really don’t care what I am drinking, but I would hope to have other options in beer heaven. A keg of Boulevard Wheat. The occasional Guinness. A Pilsner Urquell always at the ready. That is my idea of heaven.
Speaking of that, I am rather confident that there is a large party going on down the block from me right now. I’ve been ordered out drinking so that others can live vicariously through me. Good enough reason for me.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
What follows dreams...
(Some people would be concerned at someone declaring themselves to be their stalker. Me? I appreciate the attention.)
Sometimes the pleasures that technology take from us our the simplest kind. Such as spending a lazy Sunday morning reading the comics section. It’s not something that I do anymore and I don’t know many people who do. I no longer read a newspaper daily at least not a newsprint version. I just flick to the online version and besides I can’t bring myself to subscribe to the Kansas City Star. I prefer a newspaper that has a level of discourse above that of the typical Dick and Jane tome.
But my online reading has taken all of the fun away from reading the comics. The thrill you had as a kid of lying on the floor with the paper stretched out before you. Going through all of your favorites and those lesser strips you read just to have the moment last just a little longer. I don’t know if I ever laughed at Heathcliff or Marmaduke but I read them all the same. Now I’m lucky if I click on the latest Doonesbury or Dilbert. That sense of wonder is gone. I don’t think it is because I am older now. I think it is because I just don’t have that magical piece of paper flicking across my fingertips anymore.
I mention all of this because I just finished reading the new Charles Schulz biography and it made me think about all the time I’ve spent with the Peanuts characters. I’m an unabashed fan, a proud owner of a Snoopy painting and if I ever break down and get a tattoo it will probably be of Snoopy in full World War I flying gear. The strip was just a cornerstone of my life. People referred to me as a Linus. I read it daily and badgered my parents into keeping their Tribune subscription so I could always see it.
That’s what makes reading about Schulz interesting and a little off putting. He was just not what you would call a happy person. Depressed isn’t the right word because if that was the case he would never have gotten out of bed, never been able to create art day in and day out. More like he was continually ill at ease. Based on the biography you could tell that he was phobic and anxiety ridden. He was never sure if he was loved, never understood the attention and never thought that he was good enough. Reading the book it seemed like he was the ultimate guy who could never figure out how to stop and smell the flowers.
For some reason this makes me think of a story I heard about the Apollo astronauts. Years later a reporter went to interview the twelve men who had walked on the moon and found that they all had significant issues on their return. One went off to find Noah’s Ark. Neil Armstrong disappeared into seclusion on his farm. Basically they all came to the realization that they had walked on the moon. What else in their lives was ever going to compare to that moment? I think Charles Schulz found himself in the same position. What happens when you achieve your dream? Where in the world do you go from there.
I’ve been thinking about my dreams a lot lately. I live my life in terms of five year plans and my five years are nearly up. Some dreams I will fall short on and others I will accomplish. The big thing for me right now is to solidify my new dreams and new goals. Find that passion inside me for the next cycle of my life. How do I deal with achieving my dreams? I find new ones. It’s the only way I know how to keep moving forward.
Best of 120 Minutes: Sometimes in life all that matters is a name. A name like Toad the Wet Sprocket. Immortality can be so easy to obtain if you have a cool name.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Tift Merritt “Another Country”
2) The Ditty Bops “The Ditty Bops”
3) Amy Farris “Anyway”
4) Sting “Ten Summoner’s Tales”
5) Kathleen Edwards “Asking for Flowers”
Sometimes the pleasures that technology take from us our the simplest kind. Such as spending a lazy Sunday morning reading the comics section. It’s not something that I do anymore and I don’t know many people who do. I no longer read a newspaper daily at least not a newsprint version. I just flick to the online version and besides I can’t bring myself to subscribe to the Kansas City Star. I prefer a newspaper that has a level of discourse above that of the typical Dick and Jane tome.
But my online reading has taken all of the fun away from reading the comics. The thrill you had as a kid of lying on the floor with the paper stretched out before you. Going through all of your favorites and those lesser strips you read just to have the moment last just a little longer. I don’t know if I ever laughed at Heathcliff or Marmaduke but I read them all the same. Now I’m lucky if I click on the latest Doonesbury or Dilbert. That sense of wonder is gone. I don’t think it is because I am older now. I think it is because I just don’t have that magical piece of paper flicking across my fingertips anymore.
I mention all of this because I just finished reading the new Charles Schulz biography and it made me think about all the time I’ve spent with the Peanuts characters. I’m an unabashed fan, a proud owner of a Snoopy painting and if I ever break down and get a tattoo it will probably be of Snoopy in full World War I flying gear. The strip was just a cornerstone of my life. People referred to me as a Linus. I read it daily and badgered my parents into keeping their Tribune subscription so I could always see it.
That’s what makes reading about Schulz interesting and a little off putting. He was just not what you would call a happy person. Depressed isn’t the right word because if that was the case he would never have gotten out of bed, never been able to create art day in and day out. More like he was continually ill at ease. Based on the biography you could tell that he was phobic and anxiety ridden. He was never sure if he was loved, never understood the attention and never thought that he was good enough. Reading the book it seemed like he was the ultimate guy who could never figure out how to stop and smell the flowers.
For some reason this makes me think of a story I heard about the Apollo astronauts. Years later a reporter went to interview the twelve men who had walked on the moon and found that they all had significant issues on their return. One went off to find Noah’s Ark. Neil Armstrong disappeared into seclusion on his farm. Basically they all came to the realization that they had walked on the moon. What else in their lives was ever going to compare to that moment? I think Charles Schulz found himself in the same position. What happens when you achieve your dream? Where in the world do you go from there.
I’ve been thinking about my dreams a lot lately. I live my life in terms of five year plans and my five years are nearly up. Some dreams I will fall short on and others I will accomplish. The big thing for me right now is to solidify my new dreams and new goals. Find that passion inside me for the next cycle of my life. How do I deal with achieving my dreams? I find new ones. It’s the only way I know how to keep moving forward.
Best of 120 Minutes: Sometimes in life all that matters is a name. A name like Toad the Wet Sprocket. Immortality can be so easy to obtain if you have a cool name.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Tift Merritt “Another Country”
2) The Ditty Bops “The Ditty Bops”
3) Amy Farris “Anyway”
4) Sting “Ten Summoner’s Tales”
5) Kathleen Edwards “Asking for Flowers”
Friday, April 04, 2008
Your life in words
Here is what I like about seeing hockey highlights on television. On the box scores you get to see lines like “Satan shot on goal”. It makes for a much more interesting sports recap knowing that the devil himself laced up the skates tonight but was still only held to one shot. He needs a lot more help on the wings.
Played trivia tonight and did not have one of my better performances. I’ll be lazy and blame the categories as opposed to any lack of knowledge on my part. I’m just not going to be able to contribute much when a quarter of the game is devoted to Grey’s Anatomy and Name the Royals Player Based on their Picture. Heck, I only knew two of the Mortal Kombat characters because I only played that game once in my life. Now if it was Virtua Fighter I would have run the darn thing. Screw fatalities, I want to play the game where I can master drunken Kung Fu.
It’s incredibly late right now so I’ll finish off just by writing about something interesting I’ve discovered over the past few days. Ok, discovered is not the right word but I’ve now seen firsthand the effects of it. I’m nearing the ten year anniversary of starting my writer’s journal which later morphed into the blog so I’ve been going through my old entries. It’s also been part of my novel research because I wanted to tap into certain parts of my past to tell the story.
What I’ve found by going through these entries is that I have documented entire swaths of my life. Events that I had completely forgotten were all there written in my bad grammar and stream of consciousness style. There were entire conversations that I recapped that now strike me as fascinating. I could even point to my first recollections of meeting someone and all that has happened since that moment. It is really amazing to have such a record of your life.
But the strange thing is that once the blog started what I wrote about has changed. The writer’s journal was always meant to be just for me (and my future biographers. Can’t forget them.) It didn’t have an audience. It was just my attempt at cataloguing my life in a way to clear out some of the thoughts in my head. As a result it was straightforward and truthful even if in some cases there were stories I didn’t tell because I didn’t want a record of them. And while the blog is truthful (at least within the 75% rule) my subject matter has really changed. I no longer write about myself in the same way. It’s not just that entire posts revolve around My Beloved Lindsay. I tend to write much less about the people in my life.
It’s mainly a case of what I would like to share to the whole world. I hide parts of myself. Not very well but I do hide them. Some people would probably be less than pleased to discover that I am writing about them and posting it online. Plus, I have a horrible feeling that if I would ever write about something good happening in my life I would jinx it and it would go south immediately. So the blog has taken on more of a resemblance to a daily newspaper column than a personal journal.
In some ways that is good. It’s more enjoyable for others to read and I am a lot funnier this way. Plus, sometimes my life is so boring even I don’t want to read about it and I doubt many people are that interested in the ups and downs and more downs and so far down that you come out the other side of my romantic life. But I miss not having a record of it. When I look back at the past couple of years I won’t be able to point to a passage and go “See, this is what I thought the moment I met you.” Maybe what I’ll write will become a little more personal (especially now that I don’t have the spectre of a company blogging policy hanging over me.) Maybe I’ll just write more pieces that are only for my eyes. But I’d like to find a way to keep a record of my real life.
Enjoy the weekend everyone. Go to hell Carolina. I’m not cheering for Kansas, I’m cheering against Carolina.
Played trivia tonight and did not have one of my better performances. I’ll be lazy and blame the categories as opposed to any lack of knowledge on my part. I’m just not going to be able to contribute much when a quarter of the game is devoted to Grey’s Anatomy and Name the Royals Player Based on their Picture. Heck, I only knew two of the Mortal Kombat characters because I only played that game once in my life. Now if it was Virtua Fighter I would have run the darn thing. Screw fatalities, I want to play the game where I can master drunken Kung Fu.
It’s incredibly late right now so I’ll finish off just by writing about something interesting I’ve discovered over the past few days. Ok, discovered is not the right word but I’ve now seen firsthand the effects of it. I’m nearing the ten year anniversary of starting my writer’s journal which later morphed into the blog so I’ve been going through my old entries. It’s also been part of my novel research because I wanted to tap into certain parts of my past to tell the story.
What I’ve found by going through these entries is that I have documented entire swaths of my life. Events that I had completely forgotten were all there written in my bad grammar and stream of consciousness style. There were entire conversations that I recapped that now strike me as fascinating. I could even point to my first recollections of meeting someone and all that has happened since that moment. It is really amazing to have such a record of your life.
But the strange thing is that once the blog started what I wrote about has changed. The writer’s journal was always meant to be just for me (and my future biographers. Can’t forget them.) It didn’t have an audience. It was just my attempt at cataloguing my life in a way to clear out some of the thoughts in my head. As a result it was straightforward and truthful even if in some cases there were stories I didn’t tell because I didn’t want a record of them. And while the blog is truthful (at least within the 75% rule) my subject matter has really changed. I no longer write about myself in the same way. It’s not just that entire posts revolve around My Beloved Lindsay. I tend to write much less about the people in my life.
It’s mainly a case of what I would like to share to the whole world. I hide parts of myself. Not very well but I do hide them. Some people would probably be less than pleased to discover that I am writing about them and posting it online. Plus, I have a horrible feeling that if I would ever write about something good happening in my life I would jinx it and it would go south immediately. So the blog has taken on more of a resemblance to a daily newspaper column than a personal journal.
In some ways that is good. It’s more enjoyable for others to read and I am a lot funnier this way. Plus, sometimes my life is so boring even I don’t want to read about it and I doubt many people are that interested in the ups and downs and more downs and so far down that you come out the other side of my romantic life. But I miss not having a record of it. When I look back at the past couple of years I won’t be able to point to a passage and go “See, this is what I thought the moment I met you.” Maybe what I’ll write will become a little more personal (especially now that I don’t have the spectre of a company blogging policy hanging over me.) Maybe I’ll just write more pieces that are only for my eyes. But I’d like to find a way to keep a record of my real life.
Enjoy the weekend everyone. Go to hell Carolina. I’m not cheering for Kansas, I’m cheering against Carolina.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
I'm not trying to be a hippie...
Just a whole bunch of random stuff tonight…
Point # 1: I just got back from the Spoon concert. I don’t know if this was because of Spoon or because of the Uptown but some part of this show was sponsored by Camel cigarettes. As in there were big Camel logos everywhere, between sets large video screens portrayed a running film discussing the cool, crisp taste of a Camel, and as I left I walked past a glass case that contained what can only be described as spinning tobacco leaves. The end result of all this? I really wanted a cigarette and the Uptown is no smoking. I don’t know if it was either very effective advertising or an April Fools prank that they left up overnight.
Show was pretty good. Loud and packed, which is what I needed tonight. I did however take my usual space in front of the soundboard with my back firmly on the guardrail. At least this way I know that no one is going to be running into me from behind. That and I can keep my eyes on the dumb dancing guys in front of me.
Point # 2: For those who were in the pool, I received my first message from my old job requesting assistance at 8:21 this morning. So it took just slightly more than two days for things to fall to pieces in my absence. I’m kind of surprised that it took that long. I’m surprised that the lights are even working without me there.
(Why yes, I am often referred to as an arrogant prick. Why do you ask?)
Point # 3: I’ve had a couple of people ask me what my first few days of unemployment have been like. The good news is that I have been motivated enough every morning to put on pants. That might not sound like much but trust me, going into this I was really wondering if I was entering a pants free phase of my life and that wouldn’t be enjoyable for anyone. I really haven’t started the job search yet (wanted at least a moment to catch my breath) but I can’t say that I have been totally unproductive. The apartment is clean and organized and I even started scanning in some old photos. At least I don’t spend the day half asleep on my couch wondering what is going to be on Oprah today.
Mainly what I’ve been doing is slowly outlining my novel and editing some of the old stories. Foodie has been kind enough to make sure that I get out of my apartment and writing, a feat that she probably deserves a medal for. The good news is that I am nearing something almost resembling a novel outline. I at least know what happens in the first couple of chapters though I need to settle in on some characters still. Hope is to have the outline done this week and start writing in earnest next week.
Oh and for some reason I walked around Westport yesterday wearing a fake mustache. Sadly, that is the only time in my life I will ever have a mustache (damn you puberty! Finish up already!) There are pictures but I believe the holder of them will retain them for future blackmail purposes.
Wednesday Night Music Club: An actual upbeat song in the music club for once. Not my typical fare to be sure. First, I just like Gomez and I don’t think I’ve ever included one of their songs. Second, any opinions on whether I should get glasses like the guy in the video? I don’t know if I could look cool in them or if I would just be unbelievably dorky in them. Finally, and this actually has nothing to do with the video, yes I know I need a haircut. I’m getting one this weekend. I figured not having to go into the office would allow me to last one extra week without a haircut. Hence the uncontrollable mop of hair on top of my head right now.
Point # 1: I just got back from the Spoon concert. I don’t know if this was because of Spoon or because of the Uptown but some part of this show was sponsored by Camel cigarettes. As in there were big Camel logos everywhere, between sets large video screens portrayed a running film discussing the cool, crisp taste of a Camel, and as I left I walked past a glass case that contained what can only be described as spinning tobacco leaves. The end result of all this? I really wanted a cigarette and the Uptown is no smoking. I don’t know if it was either very effective advertising or an April Fools prank that they left up overnight.
Show was pretty good. Loud and packed, which is what I needed tonight. I did however take my usual space in front of the soundboard with my back firmly on the guardrail. At least this way I know that no one is going to be running into me from behind. That and I can keep my eyes on the dumb dancing guys in front of me.
Point # 2: For those who were in the pool, I received my first message from my old job requesting assistance at 8:21 this morning. So it took just slightly more than two days for things to fall to pieces in my absence. I’m kind of surprised that it took that long. I’m surprised that the lights are even working without me there.
(Why yes, I am often referred to as an arrogant prick. Why do you ask?)
Point # 3: I’ve had a couple of people ask me what my first few days of unemployment have been like. The good news is that I have been motivated enough every morning to put on pants. That might not sound like much but trust me, going into this I was really wondering if I was entering a pants free phase of my life and that wouldn’t be enjoyable for anyone. I really haven’t started the job search yet (wanted at least a moment to catch my breath) but I can’t say that I have been totally unproductive. The apartment is clean and organized and I even started scanning in some old photos. At least I don’t spend the day half asleep on my couch wondering what is going to be on Oprah today.
Mainly what I’ve been doing is slowly outlining my novel and editing some of the old stories. Foodie has been kind enough to make sure that I get out of my apartment and writing, a feat that she probably deserves a medal for. The good news is that I am nearing something almost resembling a novel outline. I at least know what happens in the first couple of chapters though I need to settle in on some characters still. Hope is to have the outline done this week and start writing in earnest next week.
Oh and for some reason I walked around Westport yesterday wearing a fake mustache. Sadly, that is the only time in my life I will ever have a mustache (damn you puberty! Finish up already!) There are pictures but I believe the holder of them will retain them for future blackmail purposes.
Wednesday Night Music Club: An actual upbeat song in the music club for once. Not my typical fare to be sure. First, I just like Gomez and I don’t think I’ve ever included one of their songs. Second, any opinions on whether I should get glasses like the guy in the video? I don’t know if I could look cool in them or if I would just be unbelievably dorky in them. Finally, and this actually has nothing to do with the video, yes I know I need a haircut. I’m getting one this weekend. I figured not having to go into the office would allow me to last one extra week without a haircut. Hence the uncontrollable mop of hair on top of my head right now.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
What defines a friend
Sometimes technology has a way of muddling things. Even if the goal is to simplify matters advancements always seem to create more issues than there were before. What is worse is that sometimes what makes us human, those events that cannot be broken down to bits and bytes, become victims of our own attempts at self-expression.Back when I started up my Facebook account it asked if I wanted to import my email address book in order to determine who my “friends” were. Like everyone else I went ahead and did so and I was glad to see the profiles of a number of my friends from school automatically listed on the page. It was wonderfully simple; one click and I was reconnected with friends around the world. But the very last profile shown made me pause.
It was the profile of a girl I saw a few times last fall and who, thanks to my rampant stupidity regarding picking up a dinner tab, I totally failed to hit it off with. Now I was looking at her picture and being asked if I wanted to make her my friend. It seemed like a totally bizarre and foreign question. I wouldn’t email her because I was pretty sure she wouldn’t respond. I wouldn’t call her because I was certain she wouldn’t answer. Yet it would have been perfectly reasonable if I sent her this request to be my “friend”.
That’s one of those things that bothers me about Facebook. It seems to belittle the concept of friends to the point where they seem to be one of those things you collect and stack in alphabetical order. I wanted her to be my friend but we weren’t and I didn’t want to use a faceless computer program to try to reconcile the distance. Like everyone else I end up with a collection of friends that consist of a mix of people who mean the world to me and people who I like hanging out with and a handful of people I vaguely know. They are all lumped into the same meaningless category. Friend might be just a word but it is a powerful one. It shouldn’t be made into a worthless platitude.
But let’s say she actually accepted my friend request. What would she know of me? A couple of witty status entries, a list of books I’ve read, a couple of favorite movies, nothing of any real significance. True, all of those items are a part of who I am but I don’t know if they show the full story. Seurat proved that you can paint a picture with only dots but at the end of the day you need distance and a hell of a lot of dots to gain the full image and even then it isn’t anywhere near seeing the same image with your own eyes. If all you knew of me was my Facebook profile (or maybe even the blog) I don’t think you could say that you actually knew me. All those things are just a handful of dots compared to the complex, contradicting, ever-changing picture of who I actually am.
What I fear is that people will start using Facebook and its ilk more and more as some sort of friend management system. A way to neatly compartmentalize all of those wildly inconsistent people who make up our lives. Keep everyone to quick soundbites and away from the deeper picture. And while I love everyone who messages me through Facebook and I will use it daily myself because it is wonderful to hear from everyone I just hope I don’t become dependent on only knowing the digital form of my friends. They are so much more than a collection of zeros and ones. We should always have a chance to remain analog.
Monday, March 31, 2008
One last walk down the aisle
I would like to apologize to everyone who was expecting to see me write the results of Star Wars-a-palooza tonight. Despite my previously stated intentions I did not in fact spend the first full day of my unemployment by sitting on my couch and watching every episode of Star Wars in order. I instead got to spend the morning doing something more enjoyable than watching the prequels. Ok, that is damning with faint praise. Let’s just say that there are some things in my life more important than Star Wars. No one will actually believe that but it is true.
(I did however spend my first day of unemployment by hanging out directly across the street from my old office. Seriously, I could see my cube from there. That just seemed totally unfair. Cool, but unfair.)
However, that was sadly just the morning so by about 1:30 in the afternoon I discovered that I was watching Rachel Ray and going slowly insane due to boredom. How bad was it? Not only did I clean my apartment this afternoon, not only did I disassemble my vacuum cleaner in order to optimize my vacuuming experience, but I even mopped the floors. Heck, I even drove to the store to get a new mop for the occasion. True, I needed to mop the floors since my entryway still had shoeprint shaped dirt marks where all the snow and slush had melted off my shoes but for crying out loud why the hell am I mopping floors? If this is what I do on day one what the hell am I going to be doing on day 27?
Anyway, I need to royally switch gears here because I have a topic that I need to discuss tonight. It is something that is pretty much the ultimate in geekery for me and if I ever wanted to impress someone by what I write this topic would never come up but damnit, it’s my blog and I write what I need to write. Last night was “The Nature Boy” Ric Flair’s last match and tonight was his official retirement sendoff and I just have to try to explain this to people who might not follow wrestling.
Ric Flair had a 36 year career and he was a top of the card star for 30 of those. When I say that I have watched Flair wrestle my entire life it is not a joke. That’s how long he has been in the business. Throughout that time he was consistently the best wrestler around and for maybe a ten year period from 84 to 94 he was probably the greatest performer who ever wrestled. Looking at his career in total there is no one who would even come close to comparing to the guy. He could talk, he could wrestle, he could tell a story in the ring and he could make you forget that everything that you were watching was predetermined. The guy was simply the best.
One of the horrible things about the wrestling business (and there are more than a few) is that once you hit the end of your career you are pretty much forgotten. You go from being on television to wrestling in high school gyms. There is no sendoff, no retiring of a jersey, just the fact that one day you are no longer on television. Given the political nature of the business if you’ve pissed off the wrong people over the years you might even be written out of the history. There are more than a few wrestlers that the WWE will not acknowledge even existed. I always feared that Ric Flair, someone who maybe meant more to wrestling than anyone else, would end up that way.
Luckily that has not been the case. Sure, Ric should have retired a while ago as he really was too old to perform as Ric Flair but he deserved one last run in the spotlight. What’s more important is that he got to have one last match in front of 70,000 people and tonight he was honored by the fans and the wrestlers. I’ve never really seen anything like it. Ric said his goodbyes and thank yous to the crowd and then they started to bring on all of the legends from the past. By the end the entire locker room, every single person who works for WWE, was out there applauding and thanking Ric for what he has done. This is the equivalent to saying goodbye to Jordan or to Ruth. The best ever has laced up the boots for the last time. Enjoy retirement Ric.
(I did however spend my first day of unemployment by hanging out directly across the street from my old office. Seriously, I could see my cube from there. That just seemed totally unfair. Cool, but unfair.)
However, that was sadly just the morning so by about 1:30 in the afternoon I discovered that I was watching Rachel Ray and going slowly insane due to boredom. How bad was it? Not only did I clean my apartment this afternoon, not only did I disassemble my vacuum cleaner in order to optimize my vacuuming experience, but I even mopped the floors. Heck, I even drove to the store to get a new mop for the occasion. True, I needed to mop the floors since my entryway still had shoeprint shaped dirt marks where all the snow and slush had melted off my shoes but for crying out loud why the hell am I mopping floors? If this is what I do on day one what the hell am I going to be doing on day 27?
Anyway, I need to royally switch gears here because I have a topic that I need to discuss tonight. It is something that is pretty much the ultimate in geekery for me and if I ever wanted to impress someone by what I write this topic would never come up but damnit, it’s my blog and I write what I need to write. Last night was “The Nature Boy” Ric Flair’s last match and tonight was his official retirement sendoff and I just have to try to explain this to people who might not follow wrestling.
Ric Flair had a 36 year career and he was a top of the card star for 30 of those. When I say that I have watched Flair wrestle my entire life it is not a joke. That’s how long he has been in the business. Throughout that time he was consistently the best wrestler around and for maybe a ten year period from 84 to 94 he was probably the greatest performer who ever wrestled. Looking at his career in total there is no one who would even come close to comparing to the guy. He could talk, he could wrestle, he could tell a story in the ring and he could make you forget that everything that you were watching was predetermined. The guy was simply the best.
One of the horrible things about the wrestling business (and there are more than a few) is that once you hit the end of your career you are pretty much forgotten. You go from being on television to wrestling in high school gyms. There is no sendoff, no retiring of a jersey, just the fact that one day you are no longer on television. Given the political nature of the business if you’ve pissed off the wrong people over the years you might even be written out of the history. There are more than a few wrestlers that the WWE will not acknowledge even existed. I always feared that Ric Flair, someone who maybe meant more to wrestling than anyone else, would end up that way.
Luckily that has not been the case. Sure, Ric should have retired a while ago as he really was too old to perform as Ric Flair but he deserved one last run in the spotlight. What’s more important is that he got to have one last match in front of 70,000 people and tonight he was honored by the fans and the wrestlers. I’ve never really seen anything like it. Ric said his goodbyes and thank yous to the crowd and then they started to bring on all of the legends from the past. By the end the entire locker room, every single person who works for WWE, was out there applauding and thanking Ric for what he has done. This is the equivalent to saying goodbye to Jordan or to Ruth. The best ever has laced up the boots for the last time. Enjoy retirement Ric.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
There are some lectures I will not be a part of
Something dawned on me while I was at the bar last night. It was one of those nights where the bar staff is giving you unemployment shots and no one believes your stories because they are actually true for once. Anyway, while sitting there, smiling to myself at just how amazingly bizarre my life can be at times, I realized that I was happier about myself and my predicament than I have been in years. At that moment I was just happy to be me. My life is far from perfect but I feel as though I have my confidence back and what happens next is entirely of my own volition. It is such a good feeling. I hope it stays with me.
Anyway, now that I am officially unemployed (even though I think I can still get into my email) I can finally tell the story about the exact moment that I knew that I had to leave my job. I didn’t want to tell this story while I was still working even though it wouldn’t have broken any rules. It has nothing to do with corporate strategy or financial maneuverings or anything that would impact a stock price. It was however a moment where I saw a flashing neon billboard telling me that my company and I were going in opposite directions.
We were in the midst of yet another reorg. In a span of two years I had gone through numerous senior VPs, VPs, directors and managers without ever changing jobs or cubicles. I’d occasionally look up, get handed a new reporting structure, and then lower my head and go back to doing precisely what I was doing before. Sometimes you needed a scorecard to keep up but I was always content knowing that I was doing work that I enjoyed and that people appreciated.
So last summer as part of the latest reorg we had our first all hands meeting with the new senior VP. I didn’t know the guy, never worked for him before, so I really didn’t know what to expect. I took my usual seat in the last row of a windowless conference room with hundreds of other employees and listened to his spiel. It was the usual talk about the future and needing to innovate and how we were to focus on change and become more productive as employees. And one of the keys to becoming more productive? Better Powerpoint slides.
I am not making this up. The next ten minutes of the presentation (remember, this is the first time I had ever heard this guy talk and he was supposed to be inspiring me at the time) were spent discussing how to properly make powerpoint slides. Including helpful hints like “check that words are spelled correctly”, “avoid using too many bullet points”, “make effective use of white space” and “don’t cloud the page with numbers.” I just sat there in shock.
Now, despite the fact that many people rightly call me an arrogant prick I seldom pull rank. I know that I have a lot of pieces of paper that say that I am smart and I don’t need to show them. But I sat there in the last row feeling completely insulted that I had to listen to this. It made me sick to my stomach that I had to sit there and act like I was appreciating this. I have a degree in electrical engineering from one of the top programs in the world. I have an MBA from Notre Dame, a school that I can mention anywhere on this planet and get nods of recognition. I’ve already accomplished more in my life than I ever expected. Yet, I was sitting there listening to someone tell me how to build powerpoint slides.
I could see this talk if everything was going along perfectly but anyone who knew anything understood that the company was in serious trouble. The financials weren’t looking good, we were floundering in the market, and there seemed to be a total lack of direction. I went into that room expecting to hear concrete details about how we were going to proceed and turn the ship around and become the top notch company we should be. Instead I was being lectured on the use of Clip Art.
The only analogy that I could think of at the moment was this. One of my idols is the former UCLA coach John Wooden. He’s one of the best leaders and strategists who ever lived. Bill Walton always tells the story about how at the first practice of the season Wooden would start practice by showing the players how to put on their shoes and socks so they wouldn’t get blisters. At the time Walton thought it was the dumbest thing he ever saw. Later he realized that this was Wooden’s way of emphasizing the importance of doing the little things right so that you can accomplish the big things later. But remember that this was at the first practice of the year. When the team was down eight with three minutes to go he wasn’t telling them how to put on their socks. He was telling them how to win the damn game.
I’ve never in my life seen a leader so completely miss the point. If it wasn’t for the people sitting next to me at the time I would have probably walked out and never looked back. Instead I hung around, did my job, and waited for the next package so that I could walk out the door. Obviously the company and I were of differing opinions as to what was important. And when that is the case I figure it is best to strike out on a new path. Now I just have to choose it.
Oh, and I got an A in my Management Speaking course so I already knew how to build powerpoint slides. What the hell.
Best of 120 Minutes: Maybe this might explain why something as insignificant as ten minutes of a presentation can set me off. This is what I grew up listening to and at the end of the day I am a punk rock kid. Joe Strummer would have left the room I can promise you that.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) The Jayhawks “Tomorrow the Green Grass”
2) Joe Henry “Trampoline”
3) Cowboy Junkies “Rarities, B Sides and Slow, Sad Waltzes”
4) Harry Connick Jr. “We Are In Love”
5) Kelly Willis “Well Traveled Love”
Anyway, now that I am officially unemployed (even though I think I can still get into my email) I can finally tell the story about the exact moment that I knew that I had to leave my job. I didn’t want to tell this story while I was still working even though it wouldn’t have broken any rules. It has nothing to do with corporate strategy or financial maneuverings or anything that would impact a stock price. It was however a moment where I saw a flashing neon billboard telling me that my company and I were going in opposite directions.
We were in the midst of yet another reorg. In a span of two years I had gone through numerous senior VPs, VPs, directors and managers without ever changing jobs or cubicles. I’d occasionally look up, get handed a new reporting structure, and then lower my head and go back to doing precisely what I was doing before. Sometimes you needed a scorecard to keep up but I was always content knowing that I was doing work that I enjoyed and that people appreciated.
So last summer as part of the latest reorg we had our first all hands meeting with the new senior VP. I didn’t know the guy, never worked for him before, so I really didn’t know what to expect. I took my usual seat in the last row of a windowless conference room with hundreds of other employees and listened to his spiel. It was the usual talk about the future and needing to innovate and how we were to focus on change and become more productive as employees. And one of the keys to becoming more productive? Better Powerpoint slides.
I am not making this up. The next ten minutes of the presentation (remember, this is the first time I had ever heard this guy talk and he was supposed to be inspiring me at the time) were spent discussing how to properly make powerpoint slides. Including helpful hints like “check that words are spelled correctly”, “avoid using too many bullet points”, “make effective use of white space” and “don’t cloud the page with numbers.” I just sat there in shock.
Now, despite the fact that many people rightly call me an arrogant prick I seldom pull rank. I know that I have a lot of pieces of paper that say that I am smart and I don’t need to show them. But I sat there in the last row feeling completely insulted that I had to listen to this. It made me sick to my stomach that I had to sit there and act like I was appreciating this. I have a degree in electrical engineering from one of the top programs in the world. I have an MBA from Notre Dame, a school that I can mention anywhere on this planet and get nods of recognition. I’ve already accomplished more in my life than I ever expected. Yet, I was sitting there listening to someone tell me how to build powerpoint slides.
I could see this talk if everything was going along perfectly but anyone who knew anything understood that the company was in serious trouble. The financials weren’t looking good, we were floundering in the market, and there seemed to be a total lack of direction. I went into that room expecting to hear concrete details about how we were going to proceed and turn the ship around and become the top notch company we should be. Instead I was being lectured on the use of Clip Art.
The only analogy that I could think of at the moment was this. One of my idols is the former UCLA coach John Wooden. He’s one of the best leaders and strategists who ever lived. Bill Walton always tells the story about how at the first practice of the season Wooden would start practice by showing the players how to put on their shoes and socks so they wouldn’t get blisters. At the time Walton thought it was the dumbest thing he ever saw. Later he realized that this was Wooden’s way of emphasizing the importance of doing the little things right so that you can accomplish the big things later. But remember that this was at the first practice of the year. When the team was down eight with three minutes to go he wasn’t telling them how to put on their socks. He was telling them how to win the damn game.
I’ve never in my life seen a leader so completely miss the point. If it wasn’t for the people sitting next to me at the time I would have probably walked out and never looked back. Instead I hung around, did my job, and waited for the next package so that I could walk out the door. Obviously the company and I were of differing opinions as to what was important. And when that is the case I figure it is best to strike out on a new path. Now I just have to choose it.
Oh, and I got an A in my Management Speaking course so I already knew how to build powerpoint slides. What the hell.
Best of 120 Minutes: Maybe this might explain why something as insignificant as ten minutes of a presentation can set me off. This is what I grew up listening to and at the end of the day I am a punk rock kid. Joe Strummer would have left the room I can promise you that.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) The Jayhawks “Tomorrow the Green Grass”
2) Joe Henry “Trampoline”
3) Cowboy Junkies “Rarities, B Sides and Slow, Sad Waltzes”
4) Harry Connick Jr. “We Are In Love”
5) Kelly Willis “Well Traveled Love”
Friday, March 28, 2008
Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning
Realized that I forgot a few regrets last night. Here they are so Foodie, uh, be careful while reading these.
I wish that I would have done the following once they installed all of the motion sensitive equipment. That morning I wanted to just say “sink activate”, “soap activate”, “towels activate” loudly and clearly every time I used them. I am convinced that within two days I would have had the entire floor thinking that they were voice activated and I would have had untold enjoyment watching people yell at a paper towel dispenser.
I never hurdled the badge reader even though I thought about that every time I went through one. Just see if I could jump over it without setting off the alarm. True, the swarm of segways would be upon me as a result but I’m confident that I could elude them through effective use of staircases.
Despite what some people believe, I never did hack into the underground parking garage. I did figure out how to do it, though. If I didn’t believe that I had to use my power for good and not evil I would have a lot more fun. Plus, evil has much better fashion sense than I do.
Always wanted to introduce myself on a conference call as Optimus Prime. What? It’s a perfectly common name.
Finally, I always wanted to come in late one Sunday night and go from conference room to conference room writing on each consecutive white board the opening chapter of A Tale of Two Cities. Someone has to make Mondays interesting.
(On Sunday I’ll probably write about the moment when I realized that I needed to leave my job. I’d write it tonight but there is a possibility that it would result in my being the first person to be fired on his last day on the job.)
(Time to switch gears here)
I keep in my bedroom something my mom gave me when I left ComEd to go to Notre Dame. It is a picture of one of my favorite places on the planet: the Cliffs of Moher on the coast of Ireland. For those who don’t know about them, this is an area in the southwest of Ireland in which the island simply stops and it is a 700 foot drop to the ocean. I’ve stood there and looked out and it is simply ocean for as far as you can see. It is literally the end of the world. If you went west you wouldn’t hit land until North America. Under this picture is the following saying
“May you seek your dreams and find adventure but always know that you can come home.”
I’ve been thinking about this quote a lot recently. When I went off to Notre Dame it truly was a case of my seeking my dreams. I just went head long into a challenge that I had no idea if I could handle. I was attending business school without having anything but a standard business background. I was a techie who had spent the past five years building mathematical models of the electrical grid of the eastern U.S. I didn’t know anything about marketing or accounting but I pursued a dream and grabbed the brass ring. At least for a moment.
So tomorrow afternoon I will find myself in that same position. All that is in front of me is ocean and sky. Land is out there somewhere, I’m pretty sure of it. I have some people who have agreed to help me in the journey and a few others may join in along the way. Don’t know quite where the journey will take me or if the winds will always be favorable but it is time for me to chart the new course. Off to capture my dreams and live one more adventure. Let’s see what the voyage might bring.
I wish that I would have done the following once they installed all of the motion sensitive equipment. That morning I wanted to just say “sink activate”, “soap activate”, “towels activate” loudly and clearly every time I used them. I am convinced that within two days I would have had the entire floor thinking that they were voice activated and I would have had untold enjoyment watching people yell at a paper towel dispenser.
I never hurdled the badge reader even though I thought about that every time I went through one. Just see if I could jump over it without setting off the alarm. True, the swarm of segways would be upon me as a result but I’m confident that I could elude them through effective use of staircases.
Despite what some people believe, I never did hack into the underground parking garage. I did figure out how to do it, though. If I didn’t believe that I had to use my power for good and not evil I would have a lot more fun. Plus, evil has much better fashion sense than I do.
Always wanted to introduce myself on a conference call as Optimus Prime. What? It’s a perfectly common name.
Finally, I always wanted to come in late one Sunday night and go from conference room to conference room writing on each consecutive white board the opening chapter of A Tale of Two Cities. Someone has to make Mondays interesting.
(On Sunday I’ll probably write about the moment when I realized that I needed to leave my job. I’d write it tonight but there is a possibility that it would result in my being the first person to be fired on his last day on the job.)
(Time to switch gears here)
I keep in my bedroom something my mom gave me when I left ComEd to go to Notre Dame. It is a picture of one of my favorite places on the planet: the Cliffs of Moher on the coast of Ireland. For those who don’t know about them, this is an area in the southwest of Ireland in which the island simply stops and it is a 700 foot drop to the ocean. I’ve stood there and looked out and it is simply ocean for as far as you can see. It is literally the end of the world. If you went west you wouldn’t hit land until North America. Under this picture is the following saying
“May you seek your dreams and find adventure but always know that you can come home.”
I’ve been thinking about this quote a lot recently. When I went off to Notre Dame it truly was a case of my seeking my dreams. I just went head long into a challenge that I had no idea if I could handle. I was attending business school without having anything but a standard business background. I was a techie who had spent the past five years building mathematical models of the electrical grid of the eastern U.S. I didn’t know anything about marketing or accounting but I pursued a dream and grabbed the brass ring. At least for a moment.
So tomorrow afternoon I will find myself in that same position. All that is in front of me is ocean and sky. Land is out there somewhere, I’m pretty sure of it. I have some people who have agreed to help me in the journey and a few others may join in along the way. Don’t know quite where the journey will take me or if the winds will always be favorable but it is time for me to chart the new course. Off to capture my dreams and live one more adventure. Let’s see what the voyage might bring.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Regrets? I have a few. But as they say, enough to make a blog post.
(Since I am going to be listing the blog in my going away email tomorrow I might as welcome all of the people who clicked on the link to finally view my blog. Hi, here’s what you’ve been missing. Stay awhile.)
As my career at the rather large phone company winds down I feel that it is time for me to reflect on my five years here. I know, I’ve always kept the rule of never talking about work but it’s the end of the road. There are some things I need to talk about. Specifically, there are many things that I regret doing or not doing. So in an attempt to cleanse my soul here is what I would do differently if I had the chance.
I’d take a ride on one of the security guard’s segways. It’s not like they are going to catch me. I’d be on a segway. I wouldn’t wear the helmet though. Why look like a dork when you’re already on a segway?
I still wish I had gone through with my protest on dress code enforcement by doing the following. One week I would start wearing a tie to the office. A few days later I would add in a sport coat. I’d follow that up with a three piece suit, immaculately tailored of course. If that didn’t get me sent to HR I was prepared to come to work in a top hat and tails, complete with white gloves and a cane. I’d break out a monocle but I think then most people would just think I was dressed as the Planters Peanut.
Staying on the dress code front, I still can’t believe I never got in trouble for changing for concerts in the office. Especially when I worked in the headquarters building on the same floor as the top executives. I’d walk around in jeans and a CBGBs t-shirt and no one ever questioned it for a second. That said, it might explain my lack of promotions.
Oh, and I regret never getting a cubicle with a window. Someday I will achieve my dream of being able to tell if it is raining or not without having to walk fifty feet.
I never did get my personal parking space. I did once ask the head of the real estate department about this once. I’m not kidding. I was in a big meeting with her and someone asked if there were any questions and I raised my hand and requested my own space. Somehow that didn’t go over nearly as well as I expected.
I wish I would have stood up for myself more. I probably should have walked out of the room when early in my career someone took all the work that I had done for the past two weeks and said “this is meaningless.” Especially because I had just proven that I was doing a better job than the consultants he hired. It probably wouldn’t have done my career any favors but it would have felt really, really good.
I also would have liked to just once receive an explanation as to why the food in the cafeteria was so expensive. The best answer I ever received was that it was priced “to keep people on campus and productive”.
I never got to the point where I put on the Decaf coffee pot a note reading: “An orange lid indicates decaf. Please do not fill this pot with four packets of caffeinated coffee. Some of us poor souls are under doctor’s order to give up caffeine unless we want to hear the words “heart” and “explode” in the same sentence. Please have pity on us. It is not an enjoyable existence.”
That said I should have just taken the pot to my desk every day. Once I leave I doubt that pot will ever be used again.
I wish I hadn’t let the job get me down so much. Sometimes the politics and the drama of the place just got me down so much that all I wanted to do was put on my headphones and ignore everything except the numbers that were in front of me. As a result I turned into a person even I don’t like hanging out with and I missed out on some really cool people in the process. That is a mistake I will not make again.
Oh, and I always wanted someone to ask me just what I was listening to on my headphones. What’s the point of wearing headphones if no one asks what you are listening to? Other than getting to avoid listening to a woman a few cubes down talk about her hernia.
But most of all, I regret never wearing the red clown nose to work. Sometimes I feel that what the company misses most is some unexpected levity. No one would have expected it from me either. The simplest things can sometimes be the most interesting.
Wednesday Night Music Club: Because I am just about to head off to his show here is Mike Doughty’s “27 Jennifers”. He is the guy from Soul Coughing and is just awesome. Gen X lives, if just for one more night.
As my career at the rather large phone company winds down I feel that it is time for me to reflect on my five years here. I know, I’ve always kept the rule of never talking about work but it’s the end of the road. There are some things I need to talk about. Specifically, there are many things that I regret doing or not doing. So in an attempt to cleanse my soul here is what I would do differently if I had the chance.
I’d take a ride on one of the security guard’s segways. It’s not like they are going to catch me. I’d be on a segway. I wouldn’t wear the helmet though. Why look like a dork when you’re already on a segway?
I still wish I had gone through with my protest on dress code enforcement by doing the following. One week I would start wearing a tie to the office. A few days later I would add in a sport coat. I’d follow that up with a three piece suit, immaculately tailored of course. If that didn’t get me sent to HR I was prepared to come to work in a top hat and tails, complete with white gloves and a cane. I’d break out a monocle but I think then most people would just think I was dressed as the Planters Peanut.
Staying on the dress code front, I still can’t believe I never got in trouble for changing for concerts in the office. Especially when I worked in the headquarters building on the same floor as the top executives. I’d walk around in jeans and a CBGBs t-shirt and no one ever questioned it for a second. That said, it might explain my lack of promotions.
Oh, and I regret never getting a cubicle with a window. Someday I will achieve my dream of being able to tell if it is raining or not without having to walk fifty feet.
I never did get my personal parking space. I did once ask the head of the real estate department about this once. I’m not kidding. I was in a big meeting with her and someone asked if there were any questions and I raised my hand and requested my own space. Somehow that didn’t go over nearly as well as I expected.
I wish I would have stood up for myself more. I probably should have walked out of the room when early in my career someone took all the work that I had done for the past two weeks and said “this is meaningless.” Especially because I had just proven that I was doing a better job than the consultants he hired. It probably wouldn’t have done my career any favors but it would have felt really, really good.
I also would have liked to just once receive an explanation as to why the food in the cafeteria was so expensive. The best answer I ever received was that it was priced “to keep people on campus and productive”.
I never got to the point where I put on the Decaf coffee pot a note reading: “An orange lid indicates decaf. Please do not fill this pot with four packets of caffeinated coffee. Some of us poor souls are under doctor’s order to give up caffeine unless we want to hear the words “heart” and “explode” in the same sentence. Please have pity on us. It is not an enjoyable existence.”
That said I should have just taken the pot to my desk every day. Once I leave I doubt that pot will ever be used again.
I wish I hadn’t let the job get me down so much. Sometimes the politics and the drama of the place just got me down so much that all I wanted to do was put on my headphones and ignore everything except the numbers that were in front of me. As a result I turned into a person even I don’t like hanging out with and I missed out on some really cool people in the process. That is a mistake I will not make again.
Oh, and I always wanted someone to ask me just what I was listening to on my headphones. What’s the point of wearing headphones if no one asks what you are listening to? Other than getting to avoid listening to a woman a few cubes down talk about her hernia.
But most of all, I regret never wearing the red clown nose to work. Sometimes I feel that what the company misses most is some unexpected levity. No one would have expected it from me either. The simplest things can sometimes be the most interesting.
Wednesday Night Music Club: Because I am just about to head off to his show here is Mike Doughty’s “27 Jennifers”. He is the guy from Soul Coughing and is just awesome. Gen X lives, if just for one more night.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
This week on Bumper Stumpers...
If there is one thing that I am going to miss about not having a commute (other than getting to discover how many ways Kansas City can avoid filling in potholes) it is going to be not seeing so many wonderful vanity plates. Here are the two best from this week.
GUNGIRL: Remind me to never, under any possible circumstances, cut off a car with this license plate. I doubt that I would live to see the next traffic light. This is roughly the automotive equivalent of carrying a sign that reads “Will kick your ass for food.”
(By the way, there is a guy who stands on a corner I drive by who holds a sign that reads “Need money for tobacco and alcohol research.” I give him points for honesty.)
BJ-LOU: This is a rather unfortunate plate. After seeing the person in the car I’m pretty sure that this car is owned by a rather nice couple who refer to each other as B.J. and Lou. I bet they are incredibly sweet towards one another and are happier than I have ever been in my entire life. Still, that doesn’t stop the kid in me from seeing that plate on a Monday morning and start laughing hysterically because, look, it’s BJ LOU.
Yeah, I’m still a guy who at one point felt that convincing a girl to come back to my apartment after the bars closed to watch old Beavis and Butthead episodes was a good idea. That’s not even some bizarre euphemism; my plan was for us to watch some old episodes I had on DVD. At the time this seemed like a perfectly logical way to win over her heart. This is what happens when people order me shots of tequila. Which reminds me…I need to watch those DVDs on Monday.
Random Facebook Note: I know that I’m not the only person who receives random Facebook advertising links. It is an interesting way to discover what marketers think of you. Recently I had been receiving a lot of “Hot single women in your area want to meet you” ads. Apparently they have factored in that I hadn’t clicked on those because over the weekend I started to get hair loss ads. I’m not making this up. Even Facebook assumes that my lack of confidence with women is somehow tied to my current hairstyle. For the record I have a fine mass of luxurious hair that is going gray in a very dignified manner. So please Facebook overlords, can I avoid having to see some bald guy’s head every time I log on?
Oh, and before I click on the other ads I want more definitive proof that they are actually a) hot, b) single, c) women, d) in my area and e) want to meet me. I’ll take four of the five, (ok, three to be honest) but C is going to have to be in the equation somewhere.
One last random, somewhat geeky note. I’m really upset that they are basically going to kill the Mars Rovers due to budget cuts. They’ll continue to fund the space station, which no one wants and serves no purpose, but they are going to turn off the greatest machines ever built. Think about this. Spirit and Opportunity have been rolling around Mars for four years now with no way for on the spot repairs. The hope was that they would survive three months and that was if they survived the landing in one piece. I really consider the rovers to be one of the greatest feats of engineering ever. Why we will kill a program that is actually working is beyond me. There might be a few other areas of government that could use a few less million in funding.
GUNGIRL: Remind me to never, under any possible circumstances, cut off a car with this license plate. I doubt that I would live to see the next traffic light. This is roughly the automotive equivalent of carrying a sign that reads “Will kick your ass for food.”
(By the way, there is a guy who stands on a corner I drive by who holds a sign that reads “Need money for tobacco and alcohol research.” I give him points for honesty.)
BJ-LOU: This is a rather unfortunate plate. After seeing the person in the car I’m pretty sure that this car is owned by a rather nice couple who refer to each other as B.J. and Lou. I bet they are incredibly sweet towards one another and are happier than I have ever been in my entire life. Still, that doesn’t stop the kid in me from seeing that plate on a Monday morning and start laughing hysterically because, look, it’s BJ LOU.
Yeah, I’m still a guy who at one point felt that convincing a girl to come back to my apartment after the bars closed to watch old Beavis and Butthead episodes was a good idea. That’s not even some bizarre euphemism; my plan was for us to watch some old episodes I had on DVD. At the time this seemed like a perfectly logical way to win over her heart. This is what happens when people order me shots of tequila. Which reminds me…I need to watch those DVDs on Monday.
Random Facebook Note: I know that I’m not the only person who receives random Facebook advertising links. It is an interesting way to discover what marketers think of you. Recently I had been receiving a lot of “Hot single women in your area want to meet you” ads. Apparently they have factored in that I hadn’t clicked on those because over the weekend I started to get hair loss ads. I’m not making this up. Even Facebook assumes that my lack of confidence with women is somehow tied to my current hairstyle. For the record I have a fine mass of luxurious hair that is going gray in a very dignified manner. So please Facebook overlords, can I avoid having to see some bald guy’s head every time I log on?
Oh, and before I click on the other ads I want more definitive proof that they are actually a) hot, b) single, c) women, d) in my area and e) want to meet me. I’ll take four of the five, (ok, three to be honest) but C is going to have to be in the equation somewhere.
One last random, somewhat geeky note. I’m really upset that they are basically going to kill the Mars Rovers due to budget cuts. They’ll continue to fund the space station, which no one wants and serves no purpose, but they are going to turn off the greatest machines ever built. Think about this. Spirit and Opportunity have been rolling around Mars for four years now with no way for on the spot repairs. The hope was that they would survive three months and that was if they survived the landing in one piece. I really consider the rovers to be one of the greatest feats of engineering ever. Why we will kill a program that is actually working is beyond me. There might be a few other areas of government that could use a few less million in funding.
Monday, March 24, 2008
The harpist in the garden...
First off, I hope that everyone had a very merry Dyngus Day today. What, you don’t know what Dyngus Day is? It is simply the best holiday ever. Consider it a reverse Mardi Gras. Well, not in the “I’ll give you beads if you put your shirt back on” sense of the term but from a theological standpoint it is very similar. See, on Mardi Gras you go wild because it is your last chance to have fun before you have to give up all of your bad habits for Lent. Dyngus Day works the same way as it is the day after Easter and we can go back to our ways of sin and debauchery. Also, sauerkraut is involved. Don’t ask me why, it just is.
Actually, back in my Czech homeland we would celebrate this day in the following way. A young single male such as myself would sneak into the house of the girl he was pining for, pour water over her head while she slept, and then whip her across the legs with long twigs. I’m not making this up. It says so on Wikipedia and we all know Wikipedia doesn’t lie. Sometimes I wonder why we left the old country behind. I think this would be a great tradition to continue, restraining orders aside.
Speaking of things that are going to result in a restraining order after a week of careful deliberation I have come up with my solution to the Say Anything dilemma. Since I no longer have a boom box and holding an iPod docking station over my head seems rather pathetic I have decided that I must up the ante. Yes, one day a lucky lady will find myself outside her window with a backing band. And since I have money and a strange sense of humor it won’t be any band; it will be The Polyphonic Spree. Imagine the sight: waking up to see twenty five people dressed in white choir robes dancing and singing and playing music in someone’s yard while I directed the action in an attempt to prove my undying love for whoever was at that moment most likely calling the cops. That said, I don’t thinking being too awesome for words should technically be considered a crime.
(To get a sense of what this would be like they kind of did this on an episode of Scrubs. And I do look like Zach Braff if I lose the glasses and intentionally dishevel my hair as opposed to its usual unintentionally disheveled state.)
I have a couple of notes on The Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother that I have been meaning to mention. First off, while I will always consider myself to be a Fitzgerald in search of his Zelda or a Gatsby in search of his Daisy it might be better if I just say that I am a Leonard in search of his Penny. True, I prefer the Fitzgerald reference (even if he did die an alcoholic in Hollywood) and Gatsby certainly had more style (being shot to death in his pool aside) the Leonard reference is probably more accurate. That’s pretty much me. Good guy, too smart for his own good, who wants to fall in love and be in a relationship but can’t because his brain always seems to get in the way. Also, he did hook up with Darlene from Roseanne so he does have that going for him.
Best reference in last week’s show that explains how my mind works: The guys wiring up their entire apartment so that they can control everything through the internet and then granting open access to the entire world to turn their lights on and off. Why? Because they can. Is there another reason?
I watched last week’s episode of How I Met Your Mother last night and once again that show seemed to be taken from my life. It’s kind of stunning given what I had written right before I watched it. Ted, my slightly cooler alter ego, goes too far one night, wakes up with a black eye, and is finally shown that he is going in the wrong direction. Pretty much dead on to what I’m going through; that realization that you have become someone you don’t particularly like. Since Ted apparently picked up the umbrella of his future life we can only hope that both of our lives are headed in the right direction.
Also, tonight’s episode was classic with the two minute date. Sure, you might not be able to get that to work so flawlessly in real life but in terms of turning a no into a yes it is probably a great move. Plus, I loved the fact that it showed that trying all of the games and schemes failed miserably mainly because I can’t pull them off. Maybe if I just be who I am then things will work out. Wow, be myself. That idea is so crazy it just might work.
Oh, and Brit’s performance tonight? Not bad. She didn’t set the set on fire or anything. I’m speaking literally here as in the fire department was not called in. It was a pretty harmless guest spot, she didn’t blow a line or seem completely out of it and if you ignored everything that has happened in the past few years it would seem pretty inconsequential. For her, this can be considered progress.
Actually, back in my Czech homeland we would celebrate this day in the following way. A young single male such as myself would sneak into the house of the girl he was pining for, pour water over her head while she slept, and then whip her across the legs with long twigs. I’m not making this up. It says so on Wikipedia and we all know Wikipedia doesn’t lie. Sometimes I wonder why we left the old country behind. I think this would be a great tradition to continue, restraining orders aside.
Speaking of things that are going to result in a restraining order after a week of careful deliberation I have come up with my solution to the Say Anything dilemma. Since I no longer have a boom box and holding an iPod docking station over my head seems rather pathetic I have decided that I must up the ante. Yes, one day a lucky lady will find myself outside her window with a backing band. And since I have money and a strange sense of humor it won’t be any band; it will be The Polyphonic Spree. Imagine the sight: waking up to see twenty five people dressed in white choir robes dancing and singing and playing music in someone’s yard while I directed the action in an attempt to prove my undying love for whoever was at that moment most likely calling the cops. That said, I don’t thinking being too awesome for words should technically be considered a crime.
(To get a sense of what this would be like they kind of did this on an episode of Scrubs. And I do look like Zach Braff if I lose the glasses and intentionally dishevel my hair as opposed to its usual unintentionally disheveled state.)
I have a couple of notes on The Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother that I have been meaning to mention. First off, while I will always consider myself to be a Fitzgerald in search of his Zelda or a Gatsby in search of his Daisy it might be better if I just say that I am a Leonard in search of his Penny. True, I prefer the Fitzgerald reference (even if he did die an alcoholic in Hollywood) and Gatsby certainly had more style (being shot to death in his pool aside) the Leonard reference is probably more accurate. That’s pretty much me. Good guy, too smart for his own good, who wants to fall in love and be in a relationship but can’t because his brain always seems to get in the way. Also, he did hook up with Darlene from Roseanne so he does have that going for him.
Best reference in last week’s show that explains how my mind works: The guys wiring up their entire apartment so that they can control everything through the internet and then granting open access to the entire world to turn their lights on and off. Why? Because they can. Is there another reason?
I watched last week’s episode of How I Met Your Mother last night and once again that show seemed to be taken from my life. It’s kind of stunning given what I had written right before I watched it. Ted, my slightly cooler alter ego, goes too far one night, wakes up with a black eye, and is finally shown that he is going in the wrong direction. Pretty much dead on to what I’m going through; that realization that you have become someone you don’t particularly like. Since Ted apparently picked up the umbrella of his future life we can only hope that both of our lives are headed in the right direction.
Also, tonight’s episode was classic with the two minute date. Sure, you might not be able to get that to work so flawlessly in real life but in terms of turning a no into a yes it is probably a great move. Plus, I loved the fact that it showed that trying all of the games and schemes failed miserably mainly because I can’t pull them off. Maybe if I just be who I am then things will work out. Wow, be myself. That idea is so crazy it just might work.
Oh, and Brit’s performance tonight? Not bad. She didn’t set the set on fire or anything. I’m speaking literally here as in the fire department was not called in. It was a pretty harmless guest spot, she didn’t blow a line or seem completely out of it and if you ignored everything that has happened in the past few years it would seem pretty inconsequential. For her, this can be considered progress.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
A Lost Weekend
I’ve lost a few weekends in my time. This one was slightly different as they say in Clerks “I wasn’t even supposed to be here today!” Or at least, I was supposed to be here now but I wasn’t supposed to be here yesterday. Let me explain all of the strange things that can happen in a weekend where you barely leave your apartment.
See, I was supposed to go home for Easter this weekend. While writing the blog Thursday night I felt a little off but just figured that I was tired. On Friday I figured out that that wasn’t the case as I was completely out of it (apologies to people who dealt with me or received emails from me if they made less sense than normal, a frightening thought). Just tired, congested and not looking forward at all to trying to fly into Chicago where they were getting a half a foot of snow. Called home and my parents and I decided that it would be best for me to stay home and get better as opposed to fly home for 24 hours, catch everyone else’s cold, and not enjoy myself. I’ll be back soon for my nephew’s birthday where my newly acquired free time will come in handy.
Plus, if my medical misadventures over the past six months have taught me anything it is that I have to listen to my body. Otherwise, I will once again find myself lying on the floor wondering (in order) a) who am I, b) where am I, and c) is that my blood? (People wonder why I’m in the midst of completely changing my life. Coming to on the bathroom floor staring at a puddle of your own blood does make you question the current state of your life. True, it was just a fainting spell and a bloody nose but it was scary as hell for a few moments.)
So instead of going to the airport I went home, grabbed a blanket, and passed out on my couch for five hours. I can’t say that I watched the basketball games. More like I was aware that they were going on and would occasionally make the effort to listen if not watch. I somehow spent much of Friday night watching CSPAN listening to Chalmers Johnson discuss the downfall of the American republic. It was a fascinating thing to watch, especially on cold medications, and made me sit down to write an essay called “What Worries Me”. I almost posted it but it is obviously not one of my unicorns and rainbows postings. If you want to see what happens when I peer into the dark corners of my soul (or to see if it as well written as I think it is) let me know and I’ll post it.
(Surprisingly, there are some things about my life that I don’t share. I admire the people who are braver than me in that regard.)
After all of that I go to bed, fall asleep for an hour and am woken up by a) longtime friend of the blog Erik calling me to discuss the current status of my life and b) the couple in the apartment next to mine having, oh how can I explain it, well let’s just say that they were having a lot more fun than I was having at that moment. Remind me that at some point in time I really need to buy a house or get an apartment with thicker walls.
Saturday was more of the same. More time on the couch. Didn’t even have the energy to swear mightily at the television as Duke threw away another season. I’d be more upset except that this is the second straight year where I didn’t like the team. They do seem like arrogant pricks but at least guys like Laettner and Hurley had the talent to back it up. I don’t even like the style of basketball they play anymore. It’s not very smooth. Not as bad as Wisconsin, who are just brutal to watch even when they win, but it doesn’t have the fun of the old teams. Notre Dame went off and got destroyed and my bracket is in ruins (I’m 102 in a 110 person pool last time I checked).
Finally felt like myself when I woke up this morning. Still a little bit of a sore throat but I no longer want to curl under a blanket and hide for the entire day. Not sure what I caught or if it was just all of the late nights and stress catching up to me. This weekend was the first time that it really hit me that after Friday I don’t have a job and I have no idea when I’m going to get another one. That’s starting to scare me. I don’t want to then jump at the first person who waves a paycheck in my face but I don’t know what is going to happen when I have free time. Maybe I’ll be productive, maybe I’ll get into some mischief, who knows. For once, I’m curious to see what happens next in my own life. We’re off the script, people.
Best of 120 Minutes: One of my favorite phrases to use about my life is “I’ve lost the plot.” I’m not sure if this is the original source of that line for me but it is close enough. At least whenever I say it I hear Tanya Donnelly singing it. Here we go, back to the days when Belly was on the cutting edge of music. Sigh. I miss Tanya. She was so cool.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Drive-By Truckers “The Dirty South”
2) Tori Amos “Under the Pink”
3) Alejandro Escovedo “Thirteen Years”
4) Gram Parsons “GP/Grievous Angel”
5) Laura Cantrell “When the Roses Bloom Again”
See, I was supposed to go home for Easter this weekend. While writing the blog Thursday night I felt a little off but just figured that I was tired. On Friday I figured out that that wasn’t the case as I was completely out of it (apologies to people who dealt with me or received emails from me if they made less sense than normal, a frightening thought). Just tired, congested and not looking forward at all to trying to fly into Chicago where they were getting a half a foot of snow. Called home and my parents and I decided that it would be best for me to stay home and get better as opposed to fly home for 24 hours, catch everyone else’s cold, and not enjoy myself. I’ll be back soon for my nephew’s birthday where my newly acquired free time will come in handy.
Plus, if my medical misadventures over the past six months have taught me anything it is that I have to listen to my body. Otherwise, I will once again find myself lying on the floor wondering (in order) a) who am I, b) where am I, and c) is that my blood? (People wonder why I’m in the midst of completely changing my life. Coming to on the bathroom floor staring at a puddle of your own blood does make you question the current state of your life. True, it was just a fainting spell and a bloody nose but it was scary as hell for a few moments.)
So instead of going to the airport I went home, grabbed a blanket, and passed out on my couch for five hours. I can’t say that I watched the basketball games. More like I was aware that they were going on and would occasionally make the effort to listen if not watch. I somehow spent much of Friday night watching CSPAN listening to Chalmers Johnson discuss the downfall of the American republic. It was a fascinating thing to watch, especially on cold medications, and made me sit down to write an essay called “What Worries Me”. I almost posted it but it is obviously not one of my unicorns and rainbows postings. If you want to see what happens when I peer into the dark corners of my soul (or to see if it as well written as I think it is) let me know and I’ll post it.
(Surprisingly, there are some things about my life that I don’t share. I admire the people who are braver than me in that regard.)
After all of that I go to bed, fall asleep for an hour and am woken up by a) longtime friend of the blog Erik calling me to discuss the current status of my life and b) the couple in the apartment next to mine having, oh how can I explain it, well let’s just say that they were having a lot more fun than I was having at that moment. Remind me that at some point in time I really need to buy a house or get an apartment with thicker walls.
Saturday was more of the same. More time on the couch. Didn’t even have the energy to swear mightily at the television as Duke threw away another season. I’d be more upset except that this is the second straight year where I didn’t like the team. They do seem like arrogant pricks but at least guys like Laettner and Hurley had the talent to back it up. I don’t even like the style of basketball they play anymore. It’s not very smooth. Not as bad as Wisconsin, who are just brutal to watch even when they win, but it doesn’t have the fun of the old teams. Notre Dame went off and got destroyed and my bracket is in ruins (I’m 102 in a 110 person pool last time I checked).
Finally felt like myself when I woke up this morning. Still a little bit of a sore throat but I no longer want to curl under a blanket and hide for the entire day. Not sure what I caught or if it was just all of the late nights and stress catching up to me. This weekend was the first time that it really hit me that after Friday I don’t have a job and I have no idea when I’m going to get another one. That’s starting to scare me. I don’t want to then jump at the first person who waves a paycheck in my face but I don’t know what is going to happen when I have free time. Maybe I’ll be productive, maybe I’ll get into some mischief, who knows. For once, I’m curious to see what happens next in my own life. We’re off the script, people.
Best of 120 Minutes: One of my favorite phrases to use about my life is “I’ve lost the plot.” I’m not sure if this is the original source of that line for me but it is close enough. At least whenever I say it I hear Tanya Donnelly singing it. Here we go, back to the days when Belly was on the cutting edge of music. Sigh. I miss Tanya. She was so cool.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Drive-By Truckers “The Dirty South”
2) Tori Amos “Under the Pink”
3) Alejandro Escovedo “Thirteen Years”
4) Gram Parsons “GP/Grievous Angel”
5) Laura Cantrell “When the Roses Bloom Again”
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Though I'd prefer four desert island discs and the woman of my dreams...
As the strains of Uncle Tupelo’s “Anodyne” close out the annual March 16-20 celebration I’ll take some time to answer a few more questions that have come my way.
Question: Ok, so we can guess that Uncle Tupelo’s “Anodyne” is one of your five desert island discs. What are the other four?
Answer: Always a good question. I could listen to Anodyne forever (though I want the two bonus tracks and would beg and plead for Sandusky to be included from March 16-20, 1992. That is the one track I listen to when I need to recenter myself.) I’ve finally broken down and chosen R.E.M.’s “Reckoning” over “Murmur”. Murmur is a better album and so indecipherable that it would make the time go by quicker but I just enjoy listening to “Reckoning” a lot more. It’s not even a good album; it’s just fun to listen to. Add in Beth Orton’s “Comfort of Strangers” and The Frames “Set List” for two discs that just make me artistic and jubilant, respectively.
The last one? Kelly Willis “What I Deserve”. The title track still puts a chill down my spine every time I hear Kelly sing “I don’t believe that I will be saved.” There was a year or two of my life where the only thing that got me through the day was listening to this disc. I honestly wouldn’t know what I would have done without it. I’ll close out No Depression week with Kelly and yes, for those people who are my “friend” on Facebook this is the woman with her arm around me in my profile photo. What can I say? Sometimes I totally rule.
Question: How are you reacting to being down to your last week in the office?
Answer: Pretty well I think. At my going away happy hour people actually commented on the fact that I was smiling which I hate to say has not been one of my standard emotions recently. I should probably try to clear that one up. Maybe the best way to say it is that the past year or so at work has really worn me out mentally and as a result the punk rock kid in me was unleashed more often than not. It made me anti-social and I regret that that was the case. But I’m in a better head space now and boy do I appreciate it.
But it is still weird sitting around going this is really it. Just one more set of weekly reports to go, a few processes to document and hand off and then it is hand in my badge and saunter out the door. I’m not sure if it will really hit me until I pack up the cubicle and take down my Dilbert cartoons. I’ve had these cartoons up since I was in college and when they move it really tells me that this part of my life will be over.
Question: Any ideas on what the next phase of your life is going to be?
Answer: I still have absolutely no clue. I’m kind of viewing this as my sabbatical. Take some time off to decompress and reassess my life and how I’m leading it. I hate to say that I’m having a mid-life crisis because I’m only 34 and the doctors tend to give me a clean bill of health. But I really am not sure what I want to do with myself. Whatever my next step is, I really want it to be the right one.
Question: So are you going to go ahead and write your book already?
Answer: Yes, I might as well make the official announcement. April will mark the official start of my first book “Tawdry Amusements at Reasonable Prices” (or at Hourly Rates, I haven’t decided which is funnier). This will be a combination of the best of the blog (rewritten and cleaned up as need be), older pieces that have never left my laptop, and new material that was never meant for the blog. It’ll be the usual combination of humor and pop culture and reflections on my life. I’m still not sure what shape it will take but I’m confident that there are 60,000 words out there in some order that I can use.
Question: But what about the novel? Isn’t your dream to write a novel?
Answer: It is and I will, most likely as part of National Novel Writers Month in November. “Until We Say Goodbye” has to be written but it is such a good story that I would hate to screw it up by just rushing into it. I need to outline and plan and do all of those things and I just haven’t done that yet. Depending on how my life goes I might get started on it earlier but right now I think I can do the story collection in a month or two. I even have an editor (God bless her soul) who volunteered to proofread my manuscript.
Question: Isn’t she the same person who threatened to stop reading your emails until you learned the difference between there, they’re and their?
Answer: Yes it is. I’m kind of dreading the first edit. I’m expecting my laptop to throw up an error message saying “Cannot show that many shades of red at once.”
Question: So any posts to look forward to in your last week?
Answer: Yes. The “things I regret not doing at my job” is going to be pretty epic. Even I’m looking forward to it.
Have a great weekend everyone.
Question: Ok, so we can guess that Uncle Tupelo’s “Anodyne” is one of your five desert island discs. What are the other four?
Answer: Always a good question. I could listen to Anodyne forever (though I want the two bonus tracks and would beg and plead for Sandusky to be included from March 16-20, 1992. That is the one track I listen to when I need to recenter myself.) I’ve finally broken down and chosen R.E.M.’s “Reckoning” over “Murmur”. Murmur is a better album and so indecipherable that it would make the time go by quicker but I just enjoy listening to “Reckoning” a lot more. It’s not even a good album; it’s just fun to listen to. Add in Beth Orton’s “Comfort of Strangers” and The Frames “Set List” for two discs that just make me artistic and jubilant, respectively.
The last one? Kelly Willis “What I Deserve”. The title track still puts a chill down my spine every time I hear Kelly sing “I don’t believe that I will be saved.” There was a year or two of my life where the only thing that got me through the day was listening to this disc. I honestly wouldn’t know what I would have done without it. I’ll close out No Depression week with Kelly and yes, for those people who are my “friend” on Facebook this is the woman with her arm around me in my profile photo. What can I say? Sometimes I totally rule.
Question: How are you reacting to being down to your last week in the office?
Answer: Pretty well I think. At my going away happy hour people actually commented on the fact that I was smiling which I hate to say has not been one of my standard emotions recently. I should probably try to clear that one up. Maybe the best way to say it is that the past year or so at work has really worn me out mentally and as a result the punk rock kid in me was unleashed more often than not. It made me anti-social and I regret that that was the case. But I’m in a better head space now and boy do I appreciate it.
But it is still weird sitting around going this is really it. Just one more set of weekly reports to go, a few processes to document and hand off and then it is hand in my badge and saunter out the door. I’m not sure if it will really hit me until I pack up the cubicle and take down my Dilbert cartoons. I’ve had these cartoons up since I was in college and when they move it really tells me that this part of my life will be over.
Question: Any ideas on what the next phase of your life is going to be?
Answer: I still have absolutely no clue. I’m kind of viewing this as my sabbatical. Take some time off to decompress and reassess my life and how I’m leading it. I hate to say that I’m having a mid-life crisis because I’m only 34 and the doctors tend to give me a clean bill of health. But I really am not sure what I want to do with myself. Whatever my next step is, I really want it to be the right one.
Question: So are you going to go ahead and write your book already?
Answer: Yes, I might as well make the official announcement. April will mark the official start of my first book “Tawdry Amusements at Reasonable Prices” (or at Hourly Rates, I haven’t decided which is funnier). This will be a combination of the best of the blog (rewritten and cleaned up as need be), older pieces that have never left my laptop, and new material that was never meant for the blog. It’ll be the usual combination of humor and pop culture and reflections on my life. I’m still not sure what shape it will take but I’m confident that there are 60,000 words out there in some order that I can use.
Question: But what about the novel? Isn’t your dream to write a novel?
Answer: It is and I will, most likely as part of National Novel Writers Month in November. “Until We Say Goodbye” has to be written but it is such a good story that I would hate to screw it up by just rushing into it. I need to outline and plan and do all of those things and I just haven’t done that yet. Depending on how my life goes I might get started on it earlier but right now I think I can do the story collection in a month or two. I even have an editor (God bless her soul) who volunteered to proofread my manuscript.
Question: Isn’t she the same person who threatened to stop reading your emails until you learned the difference between there, they’re and their?
Answer: Yes it is. I’m kind of dreading the first edit. I’m expecting my laptop to throw up an error message saying “Cannot show that many shades of red at once.”
Question: So any posts to look forward to in your last week?
Answer: Yes. The “things I regret not doing at my job” is going to be pretty epic. Even I’m looking forward to it.
Have a great weekend everyone.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
When in doubt, pick the team with the cooler mascot
While driving to work this morning I found myself behind a car with the license plate “DR RE”. I can only assume that this is Dr. Dre’s less talented younger brother who moved to KC to get as far away from the whole East Coast-West Coast drama as is humanly possible.
Ok, let’s run through the rest of the brackets and another installment of No Depression Week:
South Region: First off, I’m going to have to go with St. Mary’s in the first round. I mean, I certainly didn’t expect the Smickers to put together such a strong performance this year and the Belles should be able to take Miami. Wait, you mean there is another St. Mary’s? What the hell, go with them anyway because Miami never wins at basketball. Other big upset will be Temple over Michigan State due to the way the Spartans just collapsed against Wisconsin in a way that was just embarrassing.
There are a few other interesting first round matchups. You have Cornell, who are the Big Red despite the fact that their mascot is a bear, going up against Stanford in Nerd Bowl 2008. Take Stanford because they really are a bunch of dorks. I mean, their mascot is a color. What is their fight song “Cardinal is an awesome shade of red?” (This from an Illini whose fight song consists of drunkenly yelling “Oskee Wow Wow” at random moments.) Oral Roberts features MC 900 Foot Jesus, which would seem to be an advantage until you realize that it is rather difficult to drop a ball 890 feet into a hoop. Go with Pitt in that one.
Basically I have no faith in Memphis in this bracket. Calipari seems to be a guy who chokes as a big game coach and I don’t see this as any different. I see Pitt beating them to make the elite eight where they lose to a Texas team playing in Houston. I don’t like Texas either but I’m just going to ride home court advantage on this one.
Midwest Region: This is the region I will get to know well because it is all anyone in this damn town will talk about for the next few weeks. I’ll start with Kansas State whose somewhat silly use of purple as a uniform color is offset by the fact that their logo is borrowed from the Thundercats. Personally, I feel Panthro’s play in the low post will overcome Mumm-Ra’s outside shooting and get them through to the second round where they lose to a Wisconsin team that plays the type of basketball that makes you want to gouge your eyes out due to boredom.
My favorite team name in the tournament is the UMBC Retrievers for two reasons. 1) UMBC sounds like the name of a bank that just purchased your mortgage and 2) They must have the most non-threatening mascots in the history of the world. They should at least be the Fighting Retrievers or the Hounds from Hell or something like that. They’ll get slaughtered by the Hoyas, whose mascot is a bulldog even though a Hoya is a latin phrase. I’ve got two overlooked teams to watch for in this bracket: Clemson and Davidson. Both played Duke and Carolina incredibly tough and might make some noise.
But this bracket is all about Kansas and I’m torn here. On one hand, Kansas is by far the most talented and experienced team in this region. On the other hand, Bill Self is a traitor and a coward who turned his back on Illinois and will suffer karmically for that for the rest of his career. (Not that I’m bitter about that or anything). But more importantly, Self just can not win an important game and I just don’t see that changing this year. I’ve got to go with Georgetown. I expect hate mail over this one.
West Region: I’ll start with my Blue Devils. I said it during the Carolina game, this looks like a Duke squad that is going to lose in the Sweet Sixteen. They still don’t have a guy that I want with the ball in his hands during crunch time. I know this breaks my tradition but they will lose to Xavier. Hate to say it but I don’t know how they make the Final Four with this squad.
Easiest pick in the first round is West Virginia over Arizona again due to karma. I can’t cheer for a team whose coach has taken more time off to deal with his divorce than he did for the death of his wife. In a feel good story take Baylor over Purdue (feel good in that coaches are no longer telling players to lie to cover up a murder charge). And just one random question, do we really need a Western Kentucky? Don’t we have enough states already?
This is the only bracket I’m confident in. UCLA is the team to beat and there isn’t anyone in their draw that worries me. Some people are worried because they’ve gotten a ton of lucky breaks recently but that should just give them confidence. Also be wary of people who assume they can pull off a miracle.
Final Four: North Carolina over Georgetown and UCLA over Texas in games with better name recognition than actual gameplay. UCLA to take it all because it just feels right. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to pick North Carolina to win anything.
No Depression Week: Have to feature one of my favorite people in the world (and someone I would marry just so I could hear her voice every day) in Neko Case. I talk/post/rant about her awesomeness a lot and I find it completely justified. It is true that all of my business school applications were written while listening to her CDs. I just find her voice amazing in the way that it sounds like Patsy Cline if Patsy Cline had spent a lot of time hanging out with Nirvana. Plus, I actually met her a few times in Chicago and she is just incredibly cool and down to earth.
Ok, let’s run through the rest of the brackets and another installment of No Depression Week:
South Region: First off, I’m going to have to go with St. Mary’s in the first round. I mean, I certainly didn’t expect the Smickers to put together such a strong performance this year and the Belles should be able to take Miami. Wait, you mean there is another St. Mary’s? What the hell, go with them anyway because Miami never wins at basketball. Other big upset will be Temple over Michigan State due to the way the Spartans just collapsed against Wisconsin in a way that was just embarrassing.
There are a few other interesting first round matchups. You have Cornell, who are the Big Red despite the fact that their mascot is a bear, going up against Stanford in Nerd Bowl 2008. Take Stanford because they really are a bunch of dorks. I mean, their mascot is a color. What is their fight song “Cardinal is an awesome shade of red?” (This from an Illini whose fight song consists of drunkenly yelling “Oskee Wow Wow” at random moments.) Oral Roberts features MC 900 Foot Jesus, which would seem to be an advantage until you realize that it is rather difficult to drop a ball 890 feet into a hoop. Go with Pitt in that one.
Basically I have no faith in Memphis in this bracket. Calipari seems to be a guy who chokes as a big game coach and I don’t see this as any different. I see Pitt beating them to make the elite eight where they lose to a Texas team playing in Houston. I don’t like Texas either but I’m just going to ride home court advantage on this one.
Midwest Region: This is the region I will get to know well because it is all anyone in this damn town will talk about for the next few weeks. I’ll start with Kansas State whose somewhat silly use of purple as a uniform color is offset by the fact that their logo is borrowed from the Thundercats. Personally, I feel Panthro’s play in the low post will overcome Mumm-Ra’s outside shooting and get them through to the second round where they lose to a Wisconsin team that plays the type of basketball that makes you want to gouge your eyes out due to boredom.
My favorite team name in the tournament is the UMBC Retrievers for two reasons. 1) UMBC sounds like the name of a bank that just purchased your mortgage and 2) They must have the most non-threatening mascots in the history of the world. They should at least be the Fighting Retrievers or the Hounds from Hell or something like that. They’ll get slaughtered by the Hoyas, whose mascot is a bulldog even though a Hoya is a latin phrase. I’ve got two overlooked teams to watch for in this bracket: Clemson and Davidson. Both played Duke and Carolina incredibly tough and might make some noise.
But this bracket is all about Kansas and I’m torn here. On one hand, Kansas is by far the most talented and experienced team in this region. On the other hand, Bill Self is a traitor and a coward who turned his back on Illinois and will suffer karmically for that for the rest of his career. (Not that I’m bitter about that or anything). But more importantly, Self just can not win an important game and I just don’t see that changing this year. I’ve got to go with Georgetown. I expect hate mail over this one.
West Region: I’ll start with my Blue Devils. I said it during the Carolina game, this looks like a Duke squad that is going to lose in the Sweet Sixteen. They still don’t have a guy that I want with the ball in his hands during crunch time. I know this breaks my tradition but they will lose to Xavier. Hate to say it but I don’t know how they make the Final Four with this squad.
Easiest pick in the first round is West Virginia over Arizona again due to karma. I can’t cheer for a team whose coach has taken more time off to deal with his divorce than he did for the death of his wife. In a feel good story take Baylor over Purdue (feel good in that coaches are no longer telling players to lie to cover up a murder charge). And just one random question, do we really need a Western Kentucky? Don’t we have enough states already?
This is the only bracket I’m confident in. UCLA is the team to beat and there isn’t anyone in their draw that worries me. Some people are worried because they’ve gotten a ton of lucky breaks recently but that should just give them confidence. Also be wary of people who assume they can pull off a miracle.
Final Four: North Carolina over Georgetown and UCLA over Texas in games with better name recognition than actual gameplay. UCLA to take it all because it just feels right. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to pick North Carolina to win anything.
No Depression Week: Have to feature one of my favorite people in the world (and someone I would marry just so I could hear her voice every day) in Neko Case. I talk/post/rant about her awesomeness a lot and I find it completely justified. It is true that all of my business school applications were written while listening to her CDs. I just find her voice amazing in the way that it sounds like Patsy Cline if Patsy Cline had spent a lot of time hanging out with Nirvana. Plus, I actually met her a few times in Chicago and she is just incredibly cool and down to earth.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Topics that may not be, in fact, topical
Starting note: For those of you who work with me (or have worked with me) in that large collection of buildings somewhere in Kansas I just want to remind you that my leaving work happy hour is Wednesday night. Please stop by because it would be really, really sad if I was the only one there. Not as sad as the time when everyone in the building was sent home early due to snow except no one bothered to tell me and I didn’t notice until I took off my headphones and realized that no one else was around. (That’s a true story, by the way). Anyway, email me if you need the details. To prevent confusion, this is not to be confused with my Trivia Victory Lap or Last Night in KC celebrations. Both of those will take place once I figure out where life is taking me next and I’ll be sure to let everyone know.
(Looks like I’ll be here until June if just to see the greatest concert double bill ever: Chicago and the Doobie Brothers. I’m not kidding, I got an email about this today. Kansas City, now only 28 years behind the times.)
Comment on the last post: “Think of it as monetizing your desire to be taken seriously as a potential suitor”
Finally, advice that actually makes sense to me! Why hasn’t anyone used financing analogies before in offering me relationship advice? I understand discount rates; can’t we frame the discussion in those terms as opposed to all of these vague terms like “emotions” and “attraction”? Could I just go up to a woman and say, “Trust me, you’ll be duly impressed by my cash flow” and just leave it at that? Then break out a detailed spreadsheet to seal the deal? I can at least dream, can’t I?
Here is a reason why I am looking forward to unemployment in two weeks. So I went out last night for St. Patrick’s Day but had to leave early because I had a 9 AM meeting that I had to be functional for. In some ways that is a good thing (because I probably shouldn’t be spending Monday night in a bar) but in many more ways that is a horrible thing (because it is friggin St. Patrick’s Day, the one day where I can wear all my Notre Dame gear with pride and have a blast.) Get to work this morning, more bitter than hungover, check my email and find out that the meeting had been cancelled. Which would have been great information to have, I don’t know, last night! So I screwed over my social life for a meeting that didn’t exist in a job I’m quitting. Luckily unemployment will give me control over my schedule again. Sure, all I will do is watch daytime tv but damn it, my hand will be on the remote.
Ok, I want to analyze each region in the NCAA tournament but I’ve already hit a lot of topics tonight so I’ll just do the East Regional tonight and I’ll catch the other three tomorrow.
East Region: This bracket features my three most hated teams in existence as well as the one I will be actively cheering for. My Irish pulled a five seed, which is about right, and I can see them getting past George Mason and then Winthrop, who I’m picking mainly because I think the team is comprised of snooty English butlers. They might not have the hops of some of the other teams but they play a rather refined style of basketball.
Indiana is led by the traitor Eric Gordon who was fouled by Illinois during the pre-game introductions. They’ll get past Arkansas but then collapse because, well, they are Indiana, that’s what they do. In some other first round upsets I’d take South Alabama over Butler because the game is in Birmingham and St. Joe’s over Oklahoma because I believe that there is only one basketball in the entire state of Oklahoma.
Really this is a two team bracket. North Carolina is led by Tyler Hansborough, who looks that frat guy in college who spent his entire time in English 101 discussing how awesome their Barn Dance was going to be. I’m not encouraging anyone to give him a hard foul. I’d prefer a steel chair to the skull. Tennessee is coached by Bruce Pearl who along with Bono is most responsible for my crappy college experience. (Bruce Pearl snitched on the Illini and put us on probation while U2 cancelled a concert and cost me a date because apparently St. Bono didn’t want me to score.) Personally, I’ll be cheering for American in their first round against the Volunteers because, well, it would be un-American otherwise. It sickens me to say that Pearl, who shouldn’t even be allowed on a college campus much less coach, will get this team to the final eight and then North Carolina and their crappy uniforms will make the Final Four.
No Depression Week: If there is a current poster child for No Depression and all of its good and bad qualities it would be Ryan Adams. He is alternately a genius and a complete screw up depending on how he feels at the time. Starting with Whiskeytown he has written some amazing music that spans from pure country to hard edged rock. He also has screwed up relationships with Parker Posey, Beth Orton, My Beloved Lindsay, Winona Ryder and probably a dozen that I have forgotten by now. Judge his genius for yourself with “Come Lift Me Up” from Letterman. Performance would have been better if they would have kept in the swearing.
(Looks like I’ll be here until June if just to see the greatest concert double bill ever: Chicago and the Doobie Brothers. I’m not kidding, I got an email about this today. Kansas City, now only 28 years behind the times.)
Comment on the last post: “Think of it as monetizing your desire to be taken seriously as a potential suitor”
Finally, advice that actually makes sense to me! Why hasn’t anyone used financing analogies before in offering me relationship advice? I understand discount rates; can’t we frame the discussion in those terms as opposed to all of these vague terms like “emotions” and “attraction”? Could I just go up to a woman and say, “Trust me, you’ll be duly impressed by my cash flow” and just leave it at that? Then break out a detailed spreadsheet to seal the deal? I can at least dream, can’t I?
Here is a reason why I am looking forward to unemployment in two weeks. So I went out last night for St. Patrick’s Day but had to leave early because I had a 9 AM meeting that I had to be functional for. In some ways that is a good thing (because I probably shouldn’t be spending Monday night in a bar) but in many more ways that is a horrible thing (because it is friggin St. Patrick’s Day, the one day where I can wear all my Notre Dame gear with pride and have a blast.) Get to work this morning, more bitter than hungover, check my email and find out that the meeting had been cancelled. Which would have been great information to have, I don’t know, last night! So I screwed over my social life for a meeting that didn’t exist in a job I’m quitting. Luckily unemployment will give me control over my schedule again. Sure, all I will do is watch daytime tv but damn it, my hand will be on the remote.
Ok, I want to analyze each region in the NCAA tournament but I’ve already hit a lot of topics tonight so I’ll just do the East Regional tonight and I’ll catch the other three tomorrow.
East Region: This bracket features my three most hated teams in existence as well as the one I will be actively cheering for. My Irish pulled a five seed, which is about right, and I can see them getting past George Mason and then Winthrop, who I’m picking mainly because I think the team is comprised of snooty English butlers. They might not have the hops of some of the other teams but they play a rather refined style of basketball.
Indiana is led by the traitor Eric Gordon who was fouled by Illinois during the pre-game introductions. They’ll get past Arkansas but then collapse because, well, they are Indiana, that’s what they do. In some other first round upsets I’d take South Alabama over Butler because the game is in Birmingham and St. Joe’s over Oklahoma because I believe that there is only one basketball in the entire state of Oklahoma.
Really this is a two team bracket. North Carolina is led by Tyler Hansborough, who looks that frat guy in college who spent his entire time in English 101 discussing how awesome their Barn Dance was going to be. I’m not encouraging anyone to give him a hard foul. I’d prefer a steel chair to the skull. Tennessee is coached by Bruce Pearl who along with Bono is most responsible for my crappy college experience. (Bruce Pearl snitched on the Illini and put us on probation while U2 cancelled a concert and cost me a date because apparently St. Bono didn’t want me to score.) Personally, I’ll be cheering for American in their first round against the Volunteers because, well, it would be un-American otherwise. It sickens me to say that Pearl, who shouldn’t even be allowed on a college campus much less coach, will get this team to the final eight and then North Carolina and their crappy uniforms will make the Final Four.
No Depression Week: If there is a current poster child for No Depression and all of its good and bad qualities it would be Ryan Adams. He is alternately a genius and a complete screw up depending on how he feels at the time. Starting with Whiskeytown he has written some amazing music that spans from pure country to hard edged rock. He also has screwed up relationships with Parker Posey, Beth Orton, My Beloved Lindsay, Winona Ryder and probably a dozen that I have forgotten by now. Judge his genius for yourself with “Come Lift Me Up” from Letterman. Performance would have been better if they would have kept in the swearing.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Say Anything in an iPod Age
I should just be excused from having to write on St. Patrick’s Day. I mean, this is totally unfair. Many of my friends are bartenders. Not only do I live down the block from a bar but I am able to, on the busiest day of the year, get waved in to avoid the cover, be given a coveted seat at the bar and get free drinks. Sometimes membership has its privileges. Anyway, I’m just going to apologize in advance if this post contains misspellings, grammatical missteps, or paragraphs that end with my drooling into the keyboard. It’s been one of those nights…
However, I did prepare for this eventuality by writing down a topic this morning. Here is reason number 257 as to why technological progress is a bad thing: the loss of the Say Anything move.
If you are a Gen X’er like myself then the Say Anything move is the backbone of our romantic arsenal. Despite the fact that no one in the history of the planet has ever been able to successfully pull off the move we all believe that this very act will cause the woman of our dreams to forget all of her misgivings and fall madly in love with us (well me but I’ll use the plural here). For those who have forgotten this legendary scene from the late 80’s John Cusack, at the end of his romantic rope, determines that the only way to truly express his emotions for Ione Skye is by standing outside of her house holding a boombox over his head blaring Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes.” If you are my age this is an unforgettable moment.
(If you are in college right now and read that sentence your response would be “What the fuck is an Ione Skye?” Damn kids, know nothing about history.)
(Oh and yes, I do consider myself to look like John Cusack if he had forgotten to put in his contacts and had slightly too much to drink. It’s not a bad thing.)
So while I have lived my entire life with the belief that this is all I would need to do to seal the deal it has dawned on me that this scene does not translate to the modern age. Let’s start with the boombox. They don’t exist anymore. Certainly none with tape decks and even if you did find one with a tape deck no one actually sells cassettes anymore. So I’m now down to standing outside her window trying to play my iPod really, really loudly. (Yeah, I own a Zune but if I’m going to make this big, last ditch effort to win someone’s heart I might as well try to look cool while simultaneously being incredibly foolish.)
Given that she probably won’t be able to hear it through my headphones I am now down to trying to find one of those stereo systems where you drop in your iPod. That’s great but I don’t know of any that are battery powered so I’ll have to run an extension cord to her house. So, right now I am trying to hold up an iPod and two speakers that are being powered by a bright orange extension cord that is running through her lawn.
Now what’s worse is that I can’t just go out and use Peter Gabriel all over again. That wouldn’t show any creativity on my part. But because of the death of popular music I can’t express my emotions through a hit song anymore. Somehow I just don’t think that Justin Timberlake or Blake Lewis can adequately express the depth of my emotions. Knowing me I would be blaring an Arcade Fire song, which might not be romantic but would at least sound cool.
So I would like to thank technology for completely screwing over the only way I know of expressing myself to women. All I can think of now is to just send her an mp3 and save myself the whole “where can I find a boombox” issue. Where’s the fun in that? How can I risk being made a fool of not just in front of the girl of my dreams but a large number of random strangers who will be very upset with my waking them up with “Keep the Car Running” at five in the morning? Next thing you know people will be recommending that I express my emotions by actually telling the girl that I care about her. Yeah, like that’s going to work…
No Depression Week: Last fall, when I momentarily thought I had met the girl of my dreams, I had the opportunity to try to win her heart through a music recommendation. My choice was Josh Ritter, an incredibly talented singer-songwriter from Idaho who writes what can only be described as poetry. The choice was brilliant as she went out and bought his CDs. My follow through left a little (ok, a lot) to be desired. I promise you, I’ll always pay for dinner from now on. That said, please listen to this track just so you can see how incredible this guy is. This is what the No Depression scene was all about, just a guy with a guitar and incredible lyrics.
However, I did prepare for this eventuality by writing down a topic this morning. Here is reason number 257 as to why technological progress is a bad thing: the loss of the Say Anything move.
If you are a Gen X’er like myself then the Say Anything move is the backbone of our romantic arsenal. Despite the fact that no one in the history of the planet has ever been able to successfully pull off the move we all believe that this very act will cause the woman of our dreams to forget all of her misgivings and fall madly in love with us (well me but I’ll use the plural here). For those who have forgotten this legendary scene from the late 80’s John Cusack, at the end of his romantic rope, determines that the only way to truly express his emotions for Ione Skye is by standing outside of her house holding a boombox over his head blaring Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes.” If you are my age this is an unforgettable moment.
(If you are in college right now and read that sentence your response would be “What the fuck is an Ione Skye?” Damn kids, know nothing about history.)
(Oh and yes, I do consider myself to look like John Cusack if he had forgotten to put in his contacts and had slightly too much to drink. It’s not a bad thing.)
So while I have lived my entire life with the belief that this is all I would need to do to seal the deal it has dawned on me that this scene does not translate to the modern age. Let’s start with the boombox. They don’t exist anymore. Certainly none with tape decks and even if you did find one with a tape deck no one actually sells cassettes anymore. So I’m now down to standing outside her window trying to play my iPod really, really loudly. (Yeah, I own a Zune but if I’m going to make this big, last ditch effort to win someone’s heart I might as well try to look cool while simultaneously being incredibly foolish.)
Given that she probably won’t be able to hear it through my headphones I am now down to trying to find one of those stereo systems where you drop in your iPod. That’s great but I don’t know of any that are battery powered so I’ll have to run an extension cord to her house. So, right now I am trying to hold up an iPod and two speakers that are being powered by a bright orange extension cord that is running through her lawn.
Now what’s worse is that I can’t just go out and use Peter Gabriel all over again. That wouldn’t show any creativity on my part. But because of the death of popular music I can’t express my emotions through a hit song anymore. Somehow I just don’t think that Justin Timberlake or Blake Lewis can adequately express the depth of my emotions. Knowing me I would be blaring an Arcade Fire song, which might not be romantic but would at least sound cool.
So I would like to thank technology for completely screwing over the only way I know of expressing myself to women. All I can think of now is to just send her an mp3 and save myself the whole “where can I find a boombox” issue. Where’s the fun in that? How can I risk being made a fool of not just in front of the girl of my dreams but a large number of random strangers who will be very upset with my waking them up with “Keep the Car Running” at five in the morning? Next thing you know people will be recommending that I express my emotions by actually telling the girl that I care about her. Yeah, like that’s going to work…
No Depression Week: Last fall, when I momentarily thought I had met the girl of my dreams, I had the opportunity to try to win her heart through a music recommendation. My choice was Josh Ritter, an incredibly talented singer-songwriter from Idaho who writes what can only be described as poetry. The choice was brilliant as she went out and bought his CDs. My follow through left a little (ok, a lot) to be desired. I promise you, I’ll always pay for dinner from now on. That said, please listen to this track just so you can see how incredible this guy is. This is what the No Depression scene was all about, just a guy with a guitar and incredible lyrics.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Don't mind me, I'm just the guy at the end of the bar
Here might be the best example of what type of employee (and person) I am. I spent two hours tonight designing spreadsheets for a job (and a company) that I will be leaving in two weeks. It shows my dedication to my craft, how I always finish the job and that I care too much about what happens in the office. It also shows that I have nothing else to do and prefer crafting incredibly intricate spreadsheets to watching bad television. Oh well, the future will come soon enough where life will no longer consist entirely of Excel documents.
It’s been an odd little weekend. Some of that is my fault and other parts just seemed to happen. Things started off great on Saturday as I had a great treadmill workout. It was one of those times when you felt that you could keep the same pace up for another hour and not even blink. Got the oil changed on my car, picked up some CDs (Kathleen Edwards awesome new disc being one of them), and simply stayed productive all afternoon. I even watched another hour of A History of Britain, which has somehow become a Saturday evening ritual for me.
Somehow this all led to my spending hours cleaning my apartment on Saturday night. That’s not entirely the way that I wanted to spend the night. I’m supposed to have this entire carefree lifestyle but occasionally I have to deal with the fact that dishes are supposed to get washed as opposed to pile up until they spill out onto all available countertops. I also made a half hearted attempt at reorganizing my bookshelves, which is now at the point where I should just give up and wait until I move to figure out what I’m going to do with my library. At least the CD collection is by artist. My books are more by wherever I had space at the time.
I did go out late Saturday night and I had…well, it was my typical interesting experience. It took me a little while but I got my usual stool at Harry’s where I can joke with the staff and watch the world go by while I think through some things. One great story from the night. So I was sitting around drinking and thinking and these two girls come in who a) know the staff, b) look vaguely familiar and c) are extremely drunk in the “I’m just going to lean on the nearest stable object for balance” sense of the term. Well, for one girl, that stable object was me.
Now some people would think that I would have a problem with this. Random person in my personal space when all I’m doing is minding my own business. The thing is this is precisely why I go out. Fun story started by people who are clearly enjoying themselves. I ended up talking to her for a while or at least as much as one can talk to someone who will clearly not remember the conversation in the morning. At one point she ended up just lying her head on my shoulder and I’ll have to say it was pretty cool. It was bizarre and unusual and that’s what I want in my life. I’ll leave normalcy for the masses; I’ll take the unique.
Of course I imbibed a little too much and suffered for it today. Workout sucked, grocery shopping was even less enjoyable than usual and I still haven’t finished doing all of my laundry. Oh, and the Illini lost. At least tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. Who knows what will happen to me tomorrow.
No Depression Week: We’ll start the week with the band that named the genre: Uncle Tupelo. “Chickamauga” is my favorite Uncle Tupelo song and probably my favorite song of all time. It certainly has my favorite lyric (and what has become a motto of sorts for me) “Catch yourself in midair thinking your dreams can never be bought.” I could listen to this every day and never grow tired of it.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Whiskeytown “Pneumonia”
2) Jay Farrar “Sebastopol”
3) Vedera “The Weight of an Empty Room”
4) U2 “War”
5) The Subdudes “Miracle Mule”
It’s been an odd little weekend. Some of that is my fault and other parts just seemed to happen. Things started off great on Saturday as I had a great treadmill workout. It was one of those times when you felt that you could keep the same pace up for another hour and not even blink. Got the oil changed on my car, picked up some CDs (Kathleen Edwards awesome new disc being one of them), and simply stayed productive all afternoon. I even watched another hour of A History of Britain, which has somehow become a Saturday evening ritual for me.
Somehow this all led to my spending hours cleaning my apartment on Saturday night. That’s not entirely the way that I wanted to spend the night. I’m supposed to have this entire carefree lifestyle but occasionally I have to deal with the fact that dishes are supposed to get washed as opposed to pile up until they spill out onto all available countertops. I also made a half hearted attempt at reorganizing my bookshelves, which is now at the point where I should just give up and wait until I move to figure out what I’m going to do with my library. At least the CD collection is by artist. My books are more by wherever I had space at the time.
I did go out late Saturday night and I had…well, it was my typical interesting experience. It took me a little while but I got my usual stool at Harry’s where I can joke with the staff and watch the world go by while I think through some things. One great story from the night. So I was sitting around drinking and thinking and these two girls come in who a) know the staff, b) look vaguely familiar and c) are extremely drunk in the “I’m just going to lean on the nearest stable object for balance” sense of the term. Well, for one girl, that stable object was me.
Now some people would think that I would have a problem with this. Random person in my personal space when all I’m doing is minding my own business. The thing is this is precisely why I go out. Fun story started by people who are clearly enjoying themselves. I ended up talking to her for a while or at least as much as one can talk to someone who will clearly not remember the conversation in the morning. At one point she ended up just lying her head on my shoulder and I’ll have to say it was pretty cool. It was bizarre and unusual and that’s what I want in my life. I’ll leave normalcy for the masses; I’ll take the unique.
Of course I imbibed a little too much and suffered for it today. Workout sucked, grocery shopping was even less enjoyable than usual and I still haven’t finished doing all of my laundry. Oh, and the Illini lost. At least tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. Who knows what will happen to me tomorrow.
No Depression Week: We’ll start the week with the band that named the genre: Uncle Tupelo. “Chickamauga” is my favorite Uncle Tupelo song and probably my favorite song of all time. It certainly has my favorite lyric (and what has become a motto of sorts for me) “Catch yourself in midair thinking your dreams can never be bought.” I could listen to this every day and never grow tired of it.
The five random CDs for the week:
1) Whiskeytown “Pneumonia”
2) Jay Farrar “Sebastopol”
3) Vedera “The Weight of an Empty Room”
4) U2 “War”
5) The Subdudes “Miracle Mule”
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Questions, we've got questions
I’ll end the week with another installment of Infrequently Asked Questions (also known as “I have no idea of a topic right about now”)
Question: So what are your plans for St. Patrick’s Day?
Answer: Working. Yes, that is a sad answer and it is the first time I’ll be working on the big day in many a year. I’ll still go out (and I’m hoping to take off from work a little early) but it’s not an all day event like it has been in the past for me. I’ve described New Year’s Eve as amateur night while I’m a grizzled veteran. Well, let’s say that right now I’m the guy recovering from Tommy John surgery hoping that he’ll have just enough left in the tank when he returns to make the Hall of Fame ballot. I’ve only got a limited number of innings left in me and I have to use them wisely.
Question: Since you’ve answered the age old Ginger vs. Mary Ann question let’s go to the next obvious one, which of the Facts of Life girls would you choose?
Answer: Yowzers. This should be a question for psychological profiling. I’m tempted to go with Jo here just because she could probably change the oil on my car for me. But I’m going to cheat and say I’ll find which school Molly Ringwald transferred to after the first season and see if she is still around.
Question: How long do you think you will last without a job before going completely out of your mind from boredom?
Answer: I’m guessing I’ll be able to make it to Thursday. At that point I will probably be cataloguing my socks in excel in an attempt to do something productive (and trust me, in my mind that would be productive). That’s why I’ll end up writing a book; I’m going to have to do something to fill up the hours.
Question: Speaking of writing, any changes to the blog publishing schedule because of all of this?
Answer: None that I plan on. I’ll still post Sunday through Thursday. Only thing that might change is that I might not keep to the “always in the late evening” schedule that I’ve had for the past four years. In a perfect world I’d be writing earlier in the day while I’m wide awake. Instead I have a feeling that given no set schedule I’m going to return to my night owl tendencies so there may be some late night posts. I just see myself doing job search in the morning and writing in the evening with fun somewhere in between.
Question: Toast always lands butter side down. Cats always land on their feet. If you strap a piece of toast to the back of a cat and the cat jumps off the dining room table what happens?
Answer: As the cat nears the floor an antigravity rotational vortex will form. As the cats feet near parallel to the floor the toast will assert its own force causing the cat to spin in midair. Then, as the toast reaches parallel the cat’s feet will then assert a force. Thus, the cat/toast hybrid will be forever suspended in midair, rotating slowly like a slab of gyro meat.
I believe a girl broke up with me due to my proposing of this experiment. So along with “You’re a jerk” and “You’re too cynical” I’ve also been told “I can’t date anyone who wants to perform theoretical physics experiments on my cat.” Some people just have no respect for the advancement of science.
Question: Any special plans for next week?
Answer: Definitely. Next week marks the 16th anniversary of the recording of one of the greatest albums of all time: Uncle Tupelo’s “March 16-20, 1992”, an album so cool they just named it after the recording session. As a result of this, and in honor of the end of No Depression magazine, each day will feature music by an artist representative of the No Depression banner. Should be fun.
Question: So what are your plans for St. Patrick’s Day?
Answer: Working. Yes, that is a sad answer and it is the first time I’ll be working on the big day in many a year. I’ll still go out (and I’m hoping to take off from work a little early) but it’s not an all day event like it has been in the past for me. I’ve described New Year’s Eve as amateur night while I’m a grizzled veteran. Well, let’s say that right now I’m the guy recovering from Tommy John surgery hoping that he’ll have just enough left in the tank when he returns to make the Hall of Fame ballot. I’ve only got a limited number of innings left in me and I have to use them wisely.
Question: Since you’ve answered the age old Ginger vs. Mary Ann question let’s go to the next obvious one, which of the Facts of Life girls would you choose?
Answer: Yowzers. This should be a question for psychological profiling. I’m tempted to go with Jo here just because she could probably change the oil on my car for me. But I’m going to cheat and say I’ll find which school Molly Ringwald transferred to after the first season and see if she is still around.
Question: How long do you think you will last without a job before going completely out of your mind from boredom?
Answer: I’m guessing I’ll be able to make it to Thursday. At that point I will probably be cataloguing my socks in excel in an attempt to do something productive (and trust me, in my mind that would be productive). That’s why I’ll end up writing a book; I’m going to have to do something to fill up the hours.
Question: Speaking of writing, any changes to the blog publishing schedule because of all of this?
Answer: None that I plan on. I’ll still post Sunday through Thursday. Only thing that might change is that I might not keep to the “always in the late evening” schedule that I’ve had for the past four years. In a perfect world I’d be writing earlier in the day while I’m wide awake. Instead I have a feeling that given no set schedule I’m going to return to my night owl tendencies so there may be some late night posts. I just see myself doing job search in the morning and writing in the evening with fun somewhere in between.
Question: Toast always lands butter side down. Cats always land on their feet. If you strap a piece of toast to the back of a cat and the cat jumps off the dining room table what happens?
Answer: As the cat nears the floor an antigravity rotational vortex will form. As the cats feet near parallel to the floor the toast will assert its own force causing the cat to spin in midair. Then, as the toast reaches parallel the cat’s feet will then assert a force. Thus, the cat/toast hybrid will be forever suspended in midair, rotating slowly like a slab of gyro meat.
I believe a girl broke up with me due to my proposing of this experiment. So along with “You’re a jerk” and “You’re too cynical” I’ve also been told “I can’t date anyone who wants to perform theoretical physics experiments on my cat.” Some people just have no respect for the advancement of science.
Question: Any special plans for next week?
Answer: Definitely. Next week marks the 16th anniversary of the recording of one of the greatest albums of all time: Uncle Tupelo’s “March 16-20, 1992”, an album so cool they just named it after the recording session. As a result of this, and in honor of the end of No Depression magazine, each day will feature music by an artist representative of the No Depression banner. Should be fun.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Also, can you use Discover for the cash back option?
Might as well discuss this whole Elliot Spitzer deal. As always, it is the math of the situation that confuses me. So he spent about 80 grand on, uh, “high end entertainment with premier ladies.” Actually, only one lady at four grand a pop so that would be twenty encounters in total. My question is do you start getting discounts for being a repeat customer? You know, like you’re handed one of those punch cards you get at Subway and on every tenth “date” not only does she dress up like a French maid but she also cleans your house? And if we follow that business model to its rightful conclusion could you also have coupons? A buy one get one free deal if you will? I really need to know these things.
So I was in Lawrence this evening and I was able to keep myself from grabbing random passerbys and yelling “Get a job you hippie!” True, most of those people were frat guys in Abercrombie t-shirts whose entire existence is a waste of natural resources but you get the idea. I’ve mentioned this before but I’m always amazed by the sheer number of hippies and artistically inclined people who seem to congregate on Mass. Street. In Champaign we would have laughed them off the campus. Of course we felt nothing wrong with the fact that we had a fully functional nuclear reactor on the engineering campus. To each his own I guess.
(Also, I have to point out that while I make fun of how other people dress today I came dangerously close to rocking out the “short sleeve shirt over a long sleeve shirt over a short sleeve shirt look.” Which would be great if I was still in high school.)
It is still a strange feeling to walk around Lawrence and feel like I’m the oldest one there. I was a sophomore in high school when a freshman at KU was born, a thought that makes me want to lie down in a corner and sob uncontrollably for a while. There’s that whole vibe of being just hip enough to still fit into the place that I enjoy though. One of the things I’m looking forward to in the next few weeks is on some nice weekday just driving to Lawrence and hit the music stores and shops and act like I’m a student again. I could see that becoming a standard routine of mine even though it would go against my thinking of not working will save me gas money.
Then I went to see Richard Thompson in concert where I was one of the youngest people there. That’s just the type of place Lawrence is. You can go from being the oldest to the youngest in a matter of seconds. It was a great show, just Richard and his guitar, by one of the master songwriters. While I know that I’m not long for this town it is nice to know that I can take off for the evening and experience a night like this.
I’ll end with an old clip of Richard. I don’t have the words right now to describe his style in any way other than genius.
So I was in Lawrence this evening and I was able to keep myself from grabbing random passerbys and yelling “Get a job you hippie!” True, most of those people were frat guys in Abercrombie t-shirts whose entire existence is a waste of natural resources but you get the idea. I’ve mentioned this before but I’m always amazed by the sheer number of hippies and artistically inclined people who seem to congregate on Mass. Street. In Champaign we would have laughed them off the campus. Of course we felt nothing wrong with the fact that we had a fully functional nuclear reactor on the engineering campus. To each his own I guess.
(Also, I have to point out that while I make fun of how other people dress today I came dangerously close to rocking out the “short sleeve shirt over a long sleeve shirt over a short sleeve shirt look.” Which would be great if I was still in high school.)
It is still a strange feeling to walk around Lawrence and feel like I’m the oldest one there. I was a sophomore in high school when a freshman at KU was born, a thought that makes me want to lie down in a corner and sob uncontrollably for a while. There’s that whole vibe of being just hip enough to still fit into the place that I enjoy though. One of the things I’m looking forward to in the next few weeks is on some nice weekday just driving to Lawrence and hit the music stores and shops and act like I’m a student again. I could see that becoming a standard routine of mine even though it would go against my thinking of not working will save me gas money.
Then I went to see Richard Thompson in concert where I was one of the youngest people there. That’s just the type of place Lawrence is. You can go from being the oldest to the youngest in a matter of seconds. It was a great show, just Richard and his guitar, by one of the master songwriters. While I know that I’m not long for this town it is nice to know that I can take off for the evening and experience a night like this.
I’ll end with an old clip of Richard. I don’t have the words right now to describe his style in any way other than genius.
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