Tuesday, December 30, 2008

New Year’s - Almost

Back to reality, boys and girls. Well sort of. New Year's isn't here yet, but the big holidays are over. I never had much respect for New Year's Day. It just doesn't have the same cache that the other big days have. There aren't any real traditions that I know of. Other than finding an excuse to booze it up too much and stay up late, I'm not sure what makes New Year's much different from a Friday night. But I didn't come here to beat up New Year's eve or day. I used to like New Year's day, back when the family would gather around and watch college football bowl games and devour nachos, chips and dip and other assorted appetizer snacks. This was the one day a year we children were encouraged to eat this stuff and I went at it full force. Now the big bowl games are spread out over a week or so and are all played at 9pm eastern time, so as to not compete with one another. This doesn't do much to keep the kiddies interested. So there Tostitos Fiesta Bowl sponsors. I won't be watching your ads this year because the game isn't on the day I have off to watch such things.

New Year's is also supposed to be about resolutions or things you want to have great effect for the next 365 days and hopefully beyond. Last year M and I put more effort into this, with much better results than normal. I'm not sure if I'll do the same for this year. I probably will, just not with so many unrealistic goals. I like to improve my odds when I can. One of the resolutions I sort of have is to turn this into a forum for more regular types of posts. Originally I envisioned writing this as a series of dispatches from the country, a sort of modern day folk wisdom. Turns out I only had one or two folky posts in me and ran out of steam quickly. I actively try to avoid writing about work. I find work blogs to be just as tedious and full of hot air as the people I come across while working. I shouldn't be surprised at this and I am not. Occasionally I throw in a rant-type post, which is cathartic and hopefully amusing. I try to keep the tone somewhat upbeat. And then there are the mini-recaps of various meals or projects. I'm going to keep up with those as they come along. In addition to this stable of stud post options, I am going to try out a few new prospects in the next few months. If I like them, then that's what you'll get.

Today I'm going to talk about I movie I saw recently, called 'Burn After Reading'. This is a Coen brothers' joint, their first after the Oscar winning 'No Country For Old Men', which I really enjoyed. I've been a fan of Joel and Ethan since I saw 'Miller's Crossing' way back in the day. In subsequent re-views, I realize I had no idea what I was watching as a kid, but the characters in the movie hypnotized me. They made 'Raising Arizona', which I also enjoyed but in later viewing realized it was not a kids movie at all. Raising Arizona was also filled with memorable characters and this turns out to be the hallmark of a Coen brothers' movie. Unusual deaths play a big role too. They've killed people with a wood chipper, cattle gun, fireplace shovel, hatchet and a whole lot of guns. Based on this list, if you hadn't seen anything they'd made, you might think these are action or horror movies, but for the most part there are filled with long scenes of unusual dialogue and nuanced human interaction peppered with flashes of realistic violence. This, to me, seems so much more realistic and interesting than someone getting pumped full or bullets and crashing through windows to save the planet. When you click through the CNN crime section you rarely come across the successful brazen daylight bank heist and much more reliably read about the heat of the moment murder or the poorly conceived criminal plot and amateur cover-up attempt. The Coen brothers write some of their screenplays, and the dialogue is, at first, very strange. It's conversational rather than dramatic. Less hyperbole and more revelatory of the character speaking. Even if you are a spy or world leader, most conversations you have with people are about mundane things. You're not yelling or crying. You're trying to convey a point or win an argument or make a joke. Maybe you're just filling the silence. I understand movies are for escape and entertainment. Hearing about the plot to save the world or win the girl is more interesting than the fool who cut you off in traffic or hearing about your latest toothache. Maybe that's why the Coen brother movies are so unusual and why they stand out for me. Anyway, I learned in the bonus features of the DVD that 'Burn After Reading' was written specifically for the actors and actresses playing the roles. The movie wasn't going to be made unless George Clooney and John Malkovich were available. There was no casting call, no search for someone to play the tough guy or the leading lady. In this regard, I think the movie was successful. I couldn't' picture anyone else playing these roles. The plot was somewhat less successful, but I think that was secondary to the opportunity to show the audience who these people are for 90 minutes. The plot never resolves itself on screen, and I'm fine with that. Some people didn't like 'Burn After Reading' very much, but I did, if only for the scene of a drunken Malkovich slurring his way through a Princeton song with his college cronies. If it sounds bizarre, that's because it is and that's what makes it so wonderful.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Holiday Post

So I made it back from the final vacation of ’09 in one piece. Germany, it turns out, is an incredible place. Deutschelanders get a bad rap. As time as proven, Mike Meyers is a talentless fool and his Deiter/Sprockets routine isn’t even remotely close to any Germans I met. Indiana Jones has also tainted my image of Germans somewhat, but I wasn’t stealing any antiquities so those guys left me alone. Sure there were some severe mullets being sported, but for the most part the people we met could have been on any civilized street in the US. Notice I said civilized. I’m sure there are some German or Austrian rednecks out there and I’m sure they’re just as embarrassing, but I didn’t see any. It was a really angry salty cold out when we landed and it stayed that way for all but a couple of the days we were there, but we adopted some of the local adaptations. Namely eating as much street sausage and street wine as possible. Turns out Christmas markets are a sort of tailgate for the locals, except substitute ribs for 18 inch sausages and substitute chicken for cheese filled sausage and then swap burgers for curry sausages. Pickles get traded for sauerkraut, and cold beers get trades for steaming hot mugs of wine or kinderpunch. We stayed on the punch since I couldn’t read the signs stone sober and having a fuzzy head filled with steaming wine wasn’t going to help. I even discovered a stall that sold deep fried potato pancakes smothered in applesauce – why why why haven’t these made the trip over the pond yet? These were miles ahead of some dried out waffle fries or chalky steak fires you get at the carnival. Maybe it’s my fault for eating carnival food, but when I do, it needs to be shiny, salty and crispy. And best of all, since all of these things were served standing in a light drizzle or snow, you could eat them as fast as possible without fear of scalding your mouth beyond recognition. I may start wolfing down all my meals sans utensils and ankle deep in snow. (There’s about 2 feet of it right now, maybe I will….)

There were some other things we did on the trip. We saw a few castles, went to Salzburg and walked around Mozart’s old hood. We went on a tour about a movie? Something called ‘The Sound of Music’? I’ve never heard of this, but it’s quite popular. Except Austrians haven’t seen it and don’t know why so many people come to Salzburg to take a tour about the movie. I think there’s a lot of singing and dancing involved too – I’m way too manly to have seen this and even if I had seen it, my extreme manliness and interest in explosions would have blocked it out of my mind forever. Some call it cognitive dissonance. I say it’s physically impossible for someone to have seen something about a singing nun and some dancing singing children and be able to grow a prodigious beard at the same time. But I digress. Austria was excellent. M got us set up in a ridiculously nice hotel that had enormous racks of antlers everywhere. The room key weighed 5 lbs. The bathroom faucet was even heated so there was on-demand hot water. The Munich hotel was good too, but in a modern and minimalist way. I hadn’t been in an elevator with jungle noises before. I can now check that off the bucket list. We saw the Deutsches Muesum, which was by far one of the best museums I have ever visited. This was a museum of all things engineering. What would a true German museum be, anyway? There was mining, shipping, engines, electricity, timekeeping, weaving, manufacturing, metallurgy, bridge building, and a little astronomy. The WWII years were conspicuous in their absence, especially in the Planes/Ships section. Unfortunately we didn’t have time to see the whole separate wing dedicated to transportation (cars, trains) that I’m sure would have taken another day to visit. Even though 80% of the museum was in German, there were enough demonstration pieces to make it relevant. Just about anything big, like a bucket excavator or oil tanker, had a corresponding scale model with moving parts that came to life with the push of a button. There was even an entire room dedicated to an enormous model train complete with video feeds from the trains themselves, all orchestrated by a grinning trainmaster. Ordinarily I wouldn’t peg M as one for enjoying a machine museum, but this was an exception. There was one period of fatigue in the airplane engine exhibit, but overall we both had a great time there.

I was also pleased to see that the US does not have the monopoly on tacky crap. There was another market, away from the city center that M and I discovered. This was held in some of the gigantic tents where Oktoberfest takes place. When we investigated, we found an endless procession of incense booths, dreamcatchers, painted stones, magic pillows, wolf art, and super absorbent towels. It wasn’t quite a flea market, but it was definitely similarly bogus stuff. If you’re wondering if you’re getting any of this as a gift soon, you are not.

Shortly after we returned (7 hours to be exact) I got back on a plane to go to NYC for work. This particular project was a short one, so I promptly got on a plane on Monday and went right back home. Normally this would have been fine, but the combination of jet lag and clients calling me at home and denying me recovery time conspired to severely sleep deprive me. I may not look like a celebrity, but I sometimes travel like one. Somewhere in this swirl of re-circulated air, Guantanamo no-sleep torture and public doorknobs I picked up a nasty cold that refuses to leave. Despite my childhood of eating rusty nails and caterpillars, my immune system seems to have failed me here. Or maybe I am getting soft in my new world? Domesticated life took me out of the very grimy places that kept me ferocious and hardy. Or maybe the previous regime of all things bad brought my body into a sort of détente with itself keeping the illnesses balancing each other out in a House-like stasis?

Now for some lists:

Best Movies I have seen this year (in no particular order):
Charlie Wilson’s War
The Dark Knight
Iron Man
The Insider
No Country For Old Men
There Will Be Blood

Best Meals:
The Father’s Day Smokeout
‘John Travolta’ Pasta at Ristorante El Profeta (technically M’s meal, but I had a bite)
The Birthday Prime Rib

Great Successes:
Cheap Life Insurance
Kitchen Painted
Car Acquired
Bathroom Reno’d

Abject Failures:
Clockmaking
Herb garden
CFA

Projects to be added in the future:
Post and Beam house with wood fired pizza oven
Putting a large engine in a small car and going way too fast
Greenhouse

I’ve also made good progress on reading more. I always have a book that I’m working on and I limited the number of magazines that I receive so as to be able to dedicate the proper time to them. I feel I am getting more out of them now. M may not dance with joy when I start quoting chapter and verse from whatever I am currently reading, but I am the second most entertaining person I know, so how bad can it be?
I’m cutting this a little short now. I’d like to write more but this work thing keeps stealing my free time. Merry Christmas everyone.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Turkey Day, Cars and Trips

What’s the deal? Why do you post so infrequently?
My acolytes (ok there are none, let’s face it), rather I, have been wondering why I don’t post more often. My defense is that this is a blog of substance. I choose to write about things after they happen and I have had a chance to distill and contemplate, rather than blabber about whatever I happen to have done 10 minutes ago (picked up Joe Flacco as a fantasy keeper next year! sweet!). I’m not trying to make any money with this thing, so I have no incentive to write about the latest and greatest xyz or pontificate about the implications of Henry Waxman (D-CA) getting the chair of the energy and commerce subcommittee from John Dingell (D-MI) . In case you were wondering, it means that Detroit (and the rust belt Midwest) no longer has a big say in energy policy and environmentally friendly California/west does. Bring on the Hemp-powered scooters!! Now everything will smell like a Phish show. But I digress. So what has been interesting to me lately?
Thanksgiving was pretty cool. M and I got our pastured broad-breasted white from the farm and delivered it to my parents’ house in time for a Thanksgiving feast. To my disappointment, there were no 40lb monsters that had been advertised. Turns out that is a good thing, since 40lbs of bird does not fit in most ovens, and that would be quite a disappointment to the gathered masses. So we got the fresh bird, gave it a bath and kept it for a night in nature’s refrigerator – our back porch. I was more worried about dogs, foxes and bears, but the extreme cold was the bigger problem. The next day our fresh turkey was slightly stiff. We were lucky, turns out coolers can keep things warm as well as cold. We dropped off the bird with storage and brining instructions. The brining idea required more explanation, but I think with now 2 successful turkey dunks, it will become more accepted. On the big day M and I got up early so we could make it to a Thanksgiving ‘lunch’ with her family. We gathered the men folk in the TV room for football and the women folk in the kitchen to play with a baby. I played some Wii sports and got a little too competitive. M even got involved and acquitted herself well in the bowling game. After food and desert we headed down to my parents place for Thanksgiving #2. It was good that the meals were 5 hours apart, giving us a chance to digest the first round before jumping in again. It was surprising that even with a relatively standard menu of Thanksgiving day options, that the two sets of food were so different. The staples were the same (turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce), but then were some that made each meal distinct (green bean casserole, broccoli casserole, corn, turnip, acorn squash, brussel sprouts, cauliflower). I think I ate more vegetables than turkey this year. Then on Friday it was off to M’s parents house for another Turkey dinner. Overall I think it was 5 turkeys cooked and 8 plates of food (including leftovers) , probably the greatest eating performance in years. I think Thanksgiving is evolving into my favorite holiday. There’s much less pressure than Christmas, where gifts are involved. Who isn’t happy with a giant pile of delicious food in front of them? Even if you don’t like it, there is pie and cookies to be had afterwards.
M and I have seen a few movies lately. Most recently we watched Body of Lies which was about espionage and terrorists in the Middle East, once again confirming my desires to stay far far away from all things from that area. Russell Crowe plays an excellent bad good guy, although I sometimes can’t tell if he’s acting. I think arrogance is how he rolls. Earlier in November M and I caught the news James Bond movie. The Quantum of Solace turned out to be a very entertaining movie. Not quite a ‘film’, but consistent with the new sociopathic James Bond. The opening chase scene destroyed a quite wonderful Aston Martin. I once read an article that described aspiring owners of Aston Martins to be royalty or close to it. I know Tom Brady owns one and Michael Jordan drives one in a Hanes commercial. They seem to be nice enough cars, but realistically I shouldn’t hold out any hopes for driving one someday. This got me to thinking about why I would spend any time worrying about aspiring to own something so ridiculous. Even in the ‘good’ times, driving around in a car, any car, that costs more than a well appointed house in middle America seems a bit rude. I’m not so sure most owners of cars like that are in touch with reality. It certainly makes it hard to argue your street credentials with one of these as your chariot. Which brings me to my one and only #1 jerk car of all time, the Porsche Cayenne. Normally I ‘like’ Porsches, as in, I do not automatically despise owners of these cars and the cars themselves can be driven daily. There can be an argument made for ownership of a Porsche. SUV’s can be similarly defended. They both have their purposes. But some mad Germans decided to combine the two into a singular offensive automobile. Not only do you get the distinction of driving an incredibly expensive and impractical automobile, but it’s enormous, devours fuel and isn’t particularly good looking. These traits in and of themselves are not enough to make me hate the Cayenne, but it is the sort of people who seek to own a vehicle like this that do. I know several BMW drivers – not at all bad people. I even know a few Mercedes owners – again, nice and wonderful people. But I have had the personal opportunity to become familiar with a proud Cayenne papa and I was not at all surprised to learn what he chose for his personal automobile. The ‘reasons’ for buying the car were probably more absurd than the owner himself. This started me down the road of disliking this car. As I drove, I started to notice more of them on the road, and I stared intently, wondering - is it him?? So far it hasn’t been, but the particular attention I paid caused me to notice how badly these people behave on the road. Racing ahead, tailgating, cutting people off, honking in traffic, parking illegally. Every single one I see has a dweeb behind the wheel. Last night, walking to the train station, a car ran a red light and screeched to a halt in the middle of a crosswalk, not 5 feet from where a group of us were walking. What kind of car was it? A Porsche Cayenne GTS. The driver flailed his hands menacingly at the rush hour traffic. Really? Downtown Boston at 4:55PM? You’re going to part the cars like Moses, just by waving your hands? Maybe you can rev the engine to scare the peons blocking the way. You’re the Jerk Store’s #1 all time best seller there, Mr. Cayenne owner.
Body of Lies marked something of a landmark for M and me. True it was not normally the kind of movie that I could get M to go see, but more than that it was a sort of double date. I’m 31, can I use terms like double date? We watched the movie and went to dinner afterwards with another couple, which turned out to be quite nice. Living where we do has a certain disadvantage of not really being anywhere close to anyone we know. Sure we are friendly with some of the neighbors, but for the most part we leave everyone alone and vice versa. Although we’re proximally close, it’s not a dorm, we don’t have anyone knocking on the door to ask for a blender or band-aids. Our social options have been limited to parties other people throw or convincing people to come out and visit, which is harder than you would imagine. Maybe I smell bad? Recently one of M’s friends moved somewhat closer to our corner of the world and it became much easier to meet up with people because we didn’t have to drive all the way into Boston every time. They have some similar interests and so far we’ve had two outings, the movie and a karaoke-less karaoke night. Maybe down the road we’ll be those friends that the kids make fun of? Parental friends were always kind of strange to me – why did parents need friends when they had these wonderful kids to entertain them? Why did the kids get sent to bed when the friends were over? Why was there always so much laughing ? There wasn’t so much laughing with the kids around… Well now I have friends with kids and hear the stories. Parents need friends, even if it’s to come over for the BBQ or to lose in waffle ball to your 8 year old prodigy. Maybe someday…
But not anytime soon! M and I are going on another trip. This time we’re going to Germany and Austria. I have been told that Christmas to Germans is like Mardi Gras to college students, so I am looking forward to seeing drunken Santa’s helpers and reindeer everywhere. Maybe it’s not quite that way, but it makes the plane rides easier. I did take a year of college German, but most of that was diluted by Jagermeister and Rumple Minze at the time, so any language skills will be shaky at best. So that now will be: Paris, Italy, Greece and Germany (with Spain coming in spring ’09) – I know what you’re thinking. Who is this guy ranting about Porsches when he and the missus are traveling around the world? I hear it from people at work, the ‘what recession?’ jokes, the ‘must be nice with no kids’ remarks. Someone insinuated we have shoeboxes boxes of gold next to our money bin. That’s not the case. M spends exactly 82% of her spare time searching for travel deals. (The other 17% is spent on Anthropologie.com and 1% is spent on scratching my back, in case you were curious) I get a travel proposal sent my way every 4 days and 99% of the time I’m that math-hating moron on ‘Deal or No Deal’, dancing shouting NO DEAL while the crowd erupts and holding out for something cheaper or more exotic, forcing M deeper and darker into the world of airfare searches and hotel availability. Only when I know that either I am going to face physical harm or the deal is too good to pass up do I push that button and hand over the Amex. I have been fortunate (depending on how you look at it) to have traveled quite a bit for work and this goosed up my airline and hotel points (FREE STUFF). The Spain trip will devour the last of those points. Subsequent trips will most likely consist of sleeping in our car or taking the Fung-Wah or Casino buses to the beautiful suburbs of Newark or Parsippany. I bring my lunch to work every day, binge on free coffee from work, keep the house at a snuggly 55 degrees, and I am currently a running joke with my family for refusing the calypso call of HD cable (or cable at all). I even give myself my own haircuts. So easy there, Monks need vacations too.

Friday, November 14, 2008

11/14

I have to admit, the political events of the past 3 weeks or so have drained me. I am feeling a sort of brain hangover where I have nothing to ponder and rant about other than fantasy football and maybe how I can no longer look at my usual websites because they all foretell of absolute gloom and despair. Good thing M and I have already seen what the dark ages looked like, because we are prepared for the upcoming ones. I have been boning up on my brewing and cheese-making skills just in case. Before the election, I had a daily brawl with a few friends at work that left me mentally drained, not because they were particularly challenging, but because it was hard to get my mind around how someone could think they way they did. Too bad political discussions outside of election years will paint you as some sort of policy wonk and get you at the small table in the lunch room. I’ve been having a hard time remembering what I used to worry about before the world fell off a cliff. That being the case I had a few abortive posts that I bagged, but I’ll try and resuscitate them a little here because I thought they were genuinely funny, or at least about amusing things.

First of all was the rash of office pranks that have been going on at work. It leads me to believe that some people aren’t as busy as they used to be because now they have lots of time to play jokes on one another. They’ve ranged from changing someone’s wallpaper to covering a desk in empty soda cans that were connected to one another by hidden strings and pieces of tape, making it impossible to disassemble without crashing the whole thing. Someone’s cubicle was sealed off by an extra wall section and filled with newspapers from the recycling bin. They’ve been a nice little source of amusement from afar.


In the unrelated to pranks department, I came in to work the other day to find a sealed plastic container that used to hold yogurt swelled up like a football. I guess the weekend of warm office air caused some activity inside. I was sure to seal it up nice and tight before taking it home with me. I could have thrown it out, but I think a part of me wanted to see what had been created in there.





Then there was the week of video games, where we got a Nintendo Wii to entertain ourselves at work and bond with each other. Guitar Hero got passed back and forth between the floors as the nerds among us got a chance to prove that they were dominant in something non work related and I got to see some really scary performances by people who shouldn’t really be rocking out that hard. I’ll admit I got into it a few times and I can see how this would be a very entertaining little toy. I started to think that if I had one in college, my grades would have been worse, but then I realized I spent way too much time playing Madden, Twisted Metal and Command and Conquer anyway. Video game time is fungible.

Which takes us to where we are now. I know the blog title is about being an exurbanite and I feel a little like I am letting the title down a bit. We did do some exurban-y things recently like going to a farmshare and getting a pumpkin and some wild vegetables. We’re probably going to sign up for this next year and end up with tons of squash and turnips when we don’t want to look at them anymore, but I think that’s part of the charm of these places. The other night I picked up a meatshare from an unseen farmer woman just outside a cemetery. Something about picking up a bag of meat from a stranger, in the dark, with headstones nearby – it was a little surreal. To add to this, the light was so bad I couldn’t even see the person I took it from. That would be hard to explain to police, should I need to. This weekend we’re going to see the new James Bond movie, which should be entertaining. There had been some movie missteps recently and I’m looking forward to something good.

Most recently, I started organizing my CD collection. CD’s aren’t totally obsolete yet and they are still way better than an Ipod when it comes to being dropped in a pool or stepped on. I have 3 books of CDs that I’ve been purchasing since sometime in college. I believe I still had mostly cassette tapes in the late 90s, not because I was some sort of Luddite, but because most of the music I listened to was in the form of jam-band concert bootlegs and they always came on tape. I mostly skipped the whole Napster thing so I don’t have a great hoard of stolen MP3’s to fall back on, thus the CD’s. There are a few things that people have that tell a great deal about them. Cars are one potential tell. Some people use clothes – my clothes are mostly gifts so maybe that says something all by itself. I do choose my own shoes, though, and I have a lot of them. I have quite a few watches and ties as well. Judging by those items alone, one would say that I am a vain and frivolous person. I have maybe 5 occasions a year when I wear a tie, and you can only wear one watch or pair of shoes at a time, so why have so many? Is it because I am compensating for not being able to do my hair? Possibly, but I never did anything with it before, so I doubt that. I digress. CDs can say a lot about people as well. I like to believe I’m not really a music person, but I have a couple hundred or so CDs. I know some people have many hundreds if not thousands of CDs, LPs, MP3s - I just don’t happen to be one of them. So what did I find in this collection? I have them broken out into a few categories:
1. Classic Rock (Hendrix, Doors, Zeppelin, Creedence, Steve Miller) That’s about it. Not exactly an anthology, but I’m not that into this music. I know it’s good, but I can’t remember the last time I played any of these. They play this stuff on the oldies station now. ‘Classic Rock’ stations play rock from the 80s these days.
2. Hip-Hop . There are 2 sub genres here, ‘angry ‘ (DMX, Exzibit, 2Pac, NWA) and ‘intellectual’ (the Roots, Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Jazzmatazz). This is roughly 1/3 of the entire CD collection. I have no idea how I acquired so many hip hop CDs. Many of them are very good, but the others are really out of left field and I’d look ridiculous blasting this from my Subaru wagon on the way to the driving range.
3. Metal. Mostly Rage against the Machine, Metallica (older stuff), Korn and Limp Bizkit. That’s like saying you own 2 cars, a classic muscle car and a piece of crap Honda with tons of aftermarket parts on it. The Rage and Metallica are respectable and should be in every collection. The others? WTF. I did get them before the bands were all over MTV, but that’s not saying much.
4. Classical. Every once in a while, I try feel intellectual and play some Mozart or Beethoven. I had a fairly extensive classical collection of cassette tapes in high school and even managed to win a medal at an academic decathlon in the fine arts category once. I think I was trying to make myself smarter, like going to the brain gym. I’m mostly sitting on the brain couch these days slamming dingdongs and donut holes. Maybe someday I will go back to this, but for now, it’s a change of pace genre.
5. Pop-Rock. Another huge stack here. Most of these are one hit wonders. Oddly the solitary CD that M and I share comes in this category. A regrettable lot. Could also be categorized as Mom-rock or Minivan rock. Bad times here.
6. Electronica. A surprisingly big pile here. I went through a ‘world music’ phase where I tried to listen to international stuff and went to a few nightclubs in search of culture or something. You might hear some of this shopping at the mall or at a coffee shop. Luckily it’s not 100% techno-bage and I managed to avoid the wardrobe to accompany this genre.
7. Blues/Soul. (John Lee Hooker, James Brown, Muddy Waters) This is good stuff here. I should listen to it more often than I do.
8. Miscellaneous. The rest is movie soundtracks, random foreign language artists and CDs that I have no idea how I acquired. This is also a very large pile, and probably the one that is growing the fastest.
I guess the lesson here is that the Music industry had a good thing going for a while. Pay $18 for a CD that you maybe want one song on. Listen for a while, acquire a taste for 1 or 2 other songs. Repeat. Now I pay $.99 per song and get exactly what I want with no crap. I cannot think of a single CD I own where I love every single song. The closest is Guns N Roses’ Appetite For Destruction – I can sing 11 or 12 of these songs without hearing the music. Even now it gets a lot of play in the rotation.
So what does this collection say about me? I think it says I have questionable judgment when it comes to determining musical quality. It is apparent that I had some rather aggressive periods in the past, but I’m on a John Tesh path now. I see many ‘smooth jazz’ and ‘new age’ purchases down the road.

As part of our little pact back at Bandmeltun to banish the TV, I’ve been trying to read more. And while I haven’t renewed the mountain of magazines that had been drowning me, I have tried to mix in a few actual books now and then. Right now I’m reading a history of whaling in America and I feel better and better about my lot in life every time I pick it up. I understand that life before 1972 was pretty much intolerable. I chose 1972 because it was before I was born, but recent enough that people born in this time are considered my peers and we share a certain frame of reference. This is when electronics really started to have a profound effect on people’s lives and the crazy bunch who remember what it was like before cars started dying off and taking their ranting about horseless carriages with them. Everything seemed to be particularly harsh – no modern medicine, communication was difficult, food came in frozen trays or you had to grow it yourself. The further back you go, the worse it gets – no voting, no civil rights, civil wars, living off the land, no school. There was a fair chance to be killed just walking around. It was like this for hundreds of years. In a climate like this I can see how packing yourself onto a boat for a few years to sail the seas, stabbing to death and then dismembering giant sea creatures, only to boil them down and then settling in for a night’s rest in a tiny room with 20 other guys who had been doing the same thing all day, all seemed like a good idea at the time. Freezing to death, starving to death, drowning, drying of infection, getting killed by a whale and getting killed by another sailor were all possibilities. I read that in an effort to stave off hunger pains and nausea, the whalers were voracious consumers of tobacco. In one year in the middle of the 19th century the average whaler smoked or chewed 30 pounds of tobacco a year. I’ve tried a few tobacco products and can testify to their affects. I can guarantee that 2 ½ pounds of tobacco a month does not do good things to the human body. The sailors were also prodigious drinkers, fighters, marauders and cowards. I doubt they had any sort of retirement plan. I think the plan was to just keep going out until you didn’t come back. Interestingly, the wives of these men had it much better off than most women of the time, inasmuch as they got to run the house and their lives as they saw fit, all without their tobacco devouring, gin swilling better half around. Ye olden dayes seemed like a crazy time. I’m glad I don’t have to live in them.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Archives

Signs that your day is not going to go as planned: 1. Your train comes screeching into the station 3 minutes early and you don’t recognize the conductor. Translation: this train is over an hour late and is a local, therefore making every precious stop on its way into town. 2. You just confirmed a date during your train ride. Translation: you just doomed yourself to a 30 minute delay. Keep in mind this one didn’t actually happen to me. The guy behind me made this fatal error. I’ve been receiving email alerts all day that my line is chronically late today. Whoever is meeting this guy at Uno’s on route 9 is in for a wait. 3. You just made a date at Uno’s and used the word ‘healthy’. Admittedly he said he hasn’t been there in ten years. I wanted to turn around and describe the last 3 meals I ate there, but I still have a chunk of potato skin lodged in my carotid artery from when we met our wedding DJ there 18 months ago. I like their food, but only in an ‘I remember when I used to do whatever I wanted to do’ kind of way. It’s a totally irresponsible place to go. 4. Your wife has informed you that you have some fun awaiting you in a room that is not normally associated with fun and you have not already planned fun for that day. Translation: This weekend M and I did our filing/ record cleanup.

You see, I come from a family of hoarders. (Un)fortunately, the house where I spent most of my youth is cavernous and signs of hoarding go unnoticed for great stretches of time, cleverly hidden by unused rooms and ornately carved cabinetry. I shouldn’t use the word ‘hoard’, since the stuff is mostly useful and attractive and the house is decidedly not filled with discarded packs of Salem 100s, pizza boxes and filthy kittens. Rather, one side of my family likes to keep mail. Lots of it. I haven’t seen the mail pile in a while but I heard it was mighty. Apparently it did serve a purpose and said pile should be taken care of at some point. I, too once had a mighty mail pile. It lived in a garbage bag hidden in M’s apartment. I would periodically sort my mail into ‘useful’ and ‘trash’. The useful mail was saved and surreptitiously concealed and brought over when I came to visit. Eventually, M found the pile and this glaring red flag was innocently explained away. Next, I purchased a shredder to contain this problem, but I was not allowed to use it while my roommate, a former Arthur Andersen employee, was home. I thought this was some sort of joke at first but he was adamant. So the shredder did it’s thing and now lives in the loft, where mail periodically migrates first from the 1st floor coffee table to the 1syt floor stairs, then to the 2nd floor stairs, then to the loft and finally into the shredder when the pile is large enough to swallow the shredder. Given this description, you can imagine what my ‘important papers’ pile looks like. In this area I am slightly exaggerating. I did at one point get organized enough to produce documentation proving I was worthy of buying a house. Although given the news lately, being approved to buy a house no longer carries the juice it once did. I even had a box for my files and every few months I would sort the pile and put the statements into their appropriate folder. The box lived in the guest room closet with M’s tidy little box. Lately this wasn’t so successful as M and I took turns stuffing the closet with our important papers like it was a Florida ballot box, and eventually M had enough. So this was the fun task that was created for Saturday. Nearly 10 years of financial and miscellaneous records needed to be sorted out. Given the ease of electronic bill paying, it’s possible that I would go months without opening certain statements. I never had to do the monthly sit down at the living room table with the calculator, checkbook and bills thing. I guess I’m spoiled. So now I have periodic paper binges to deal with instead. I had a folder with nothing but cell phone bills. Another with credit card statements on a card I’ve never used. I had 6 inches of old expense reports. There were electric bills, sewer bills, old leases, cable bills, bank statements, performance reviews, car repair receipts for cars I no longer own, insurance coverage sheets for cars I no longer own, 401k statements for closed accounts and 8 inches of completely random papers stuffed into it’s own folder that defied categorization. That was just the papers that had so far been previously opened and sorted. There was another foot of mail that was in a giant jumble. I am not immune here, however. While not as squirrel like, M’s archives extended back into banks that no longer exist and jobs long gone as well. Slowly, over the course of 4 hours we combined and collated the piles into a unified codex and produced a Himalayan pile of rejected archives. Perhaps I was destroying something valuable (might my cell phone bill from Cellular One appear one day on Antiques Roadshow? I doubt I’ll ever be that famous, but a drug addled boozehound business failure anti-intellectual trust fund Connecticut cowboy became president, so anything is possible). As with any good crime, the evidence is always the hardest part to clean up. The act itself is easy, almost liberating and enjoyable. The leftover and consequences are never appreciated until much later. In this case it was a decent sized snowbank of paper that was covered in account numbers and personal information that needed to be destroyed. Unfortunately, the lower class shredder I purchased wasn’t up to the task. In hindsight a ‘liberal elite’ model would have served me better. The motor kept overheating and the room smelled like paper dust and ozone, but at 6pm yesterday the job was largely finished. 4 stuffed kitchen bags of shredded papers plus a stack of non-important non-shredded papers were sent to the recycler, never to be seen again. The guest room closet is almost reclaimed. M and I purchased some plastic boxes that now hold gift wrapping and bags and are under a bed. I can only hope that this great open space stays open, in the spirit of a national park, and isn’t soon cluttered with the strip-mall of American households: old jackets and other un-throwaway-able items.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Recap

It’s kind of odd; the longer I didn’t write anything, the harder the thought of coming up with another post became. I hadn’t been like this since college, in the days of freaking out for 2 weeks and camping out in the library to cobble together a paper that didn’t display my total lack of ongoing research. I used to be pretty good at it, but like all skills that rust in the shed of disuse, my panic-work reflex is now a bright shade of orange and stuck solid. It’s true that a ton of stuff has happened since the last of my regular contributions. M and I went on vacation, I did my fantasy football draft, a hurricane crushed Texas and the world has more or less collapsed. Good times all around. I’ll start with the vacation, since that’s a mostly fun topic.
Things I liked about vacation: not going to work, sleeping in, spending 24 hours a day with M (it’s true) , not cleaning the kitchen, seeing vibrant and different cultures, interacting with new people, European coffee. Things I didn’t like about vacation: packing, 8 hour flights, hordes of people, not speaking the language, foreign currency, chain smoking Europeans, small cars. Our trip started off well. We worked at home, got a van to the airport and breezed through security. The 8? 10? Hour journey was uneventful. Lufthansa gave us some good meals and great seats. I watched Kung-Fu Panda while M tolerated Made of Honor. I was shocked by how many people on the plane spoke German. I heard them speaking English in the airport, then all of a sudden it turned into Hans and Franz on the plane. Nothing like seeing Der Spiegel being read to revive the horrors of 2 semesters of college German. Luckily I didn’t have to use any of the 5 words I remembered until our return trip. Sleeping on the plane was impossible, despite our luxurious travel pillows, eye masks and noise canceling headphones. We had a little layover in Munich where I was offered lots of help by exuberant Germans who mistook my attempts to admire their airport for looks of confusion. Ah that silly American… I think I’ll try my English now… Anyway, I needed some coffee and rather than attempt to deal with a FREE coffee machine, I ordered up the first of many scalding espressos from the bar. In hindsight I was probably too tired to deal with the machine and just wanted someone to do it for me, but explaining this to M was difficult. The flight to Florence was also uneventful, save for the fine mullet I spotted on a traveler from the Czech republic (I stole a look at his passport) This was to be the first of many powerful and luxurious mullets I saw in Europe. It seems that 80’s trailer park is the hot new look. I even saw some American students rocking these things. Keep your eyes out, they’re coming. We landed in Florence, took an insane cab ride to our hotel and got things started. It was hot out there, at least in the high 80s, but for some reason, I didn’t pack many shorts. I’d read somewhere that no one over there wears shorts. They either wear ridiculous Capri pants or they go long pants. So I packed mostly long pants and toughed it out. Really the first day got me worried, but by the end of our trip it was back to being cool and rainy, they way we’re used to seeing Europe.
Florence was over the top. Our hotel was one of the best we could get with Starwood points and as such M and I looked like we were staying with our parents. There wasn’t anyone within 20 years of us. Lucking that means no dice shooting in the hallways at 3am or crashing beer bottles in the elevators. The concierge did a great job guiding us around the city, which really wasn’t that hard to navigate. By the 3rd day, I was finding shortcuts like a local. Breakfasts usually consisted of us eating the remnants of the complimentary fruit bowl alongside muffins we brought with us. Lunch was usually something quick from a café or shop but the dinners were always an event. The two places the hotel recommended for us were some of the best eating I’d done at a restaurant. Proscuitto was a staple of lunch and dinner, as was tomato and mozzarella. M made sure we were never more than a couple of hours away from gelato, and I always got my espresso. I didn’t venture into any latte/machiatto/cappuccino territory that Italians are famous for, the regular burned stuff was fine for me. The second night we were there, M and I popped some pills (Advil PM) and set some sleep records. I put in a solid 13-15 hours, while M spent some time reading in the bathtub. After that binge, I think I had a little bit of a sleep hangover – my brain was slow, reflexes were off, I was stiff and a little loopy. Or maybe I was just starting to detox from the daily schedule I’d been in? Either way, I was having a great time getting out there and seeing the city. If you really wanted to be in a rush, you could ‘see’ the major sights in Florence in a day or two. Statue of David, Brunelleschi’s Dome, Uffizi Gallery, Pitti Palace, Ponte Vecchio and you’re done. Personally, I liked seeing them multiple times at different points of the day with different crowds and letting it all soak in for a while. While we were there, we did a side trip to Siena and tried to do a bike tour in Tuscany. Siena was good, although I could have behaved a little better and the bike tour got rained out. For me the city of Florence itself was the highlight. Aside from the mopeds, screeching fiats, wandering tourists/tour groups, everything we saw and did was entertaining.
Venice was the next stop. Everyone knows Venice is the city with the canals, but actually seeing the city that has no streets or cars is something I think everyone has to do at some point. It’s really indescribable to see it in action. I was skeptical of the need to take a water taxi to our hotel (highway robbery), but once we got there, the need became clear. There’s no way to navigate the city with suitcases in tow when there are thousands of tourists mobbing bridges and pathways that barely hold 3 people shoulder-shoulder. This was another big hotel point monster, but we got a perfect location and a really nice lobby out of the deal. The fruit bowl left something to be desired, but I’m not complaining. We did have a convention (some kind of Petroleum and Chemical Production Society) in the hotel, and they always came home late at night, thick with brandy or something and had their midnight cigars out in the courtyard under our window, which woke me up a couple of times. It was like having a hundred Thurston Howells milling around. I was a little scared Greenpeace or some radical group would find out and take down the hotel, but we escaped alive. Venice is another city that anyone bent on seeing all the sights in as little time as possible could probably do in 2 days, but we stayed and started living like the locals, which I really enjoy as a vacation style. While I wasn’t finding any shortcuts (the more I tried the deeper we got lost), we did find a hot chocolate place that sold doughnuts in the morning and we had a nice little routine going there in Venice. I think M liked it more than Florence. Beyond the tourist sights neither one has a ton to do, unless you’re an artist or creative type and are looking for inspiration or you’re insanely rich and want to boutique shop all day, but they both have a great energy and you can spend a few hours just soaking it all in.
There was a common theme to both cities, and that was the extreme wealth they both had for a while. I had to contrast that with the economic calamity that came pouring over the news I saw every time I looked. The only English TV channels were CNBC, Bloomberg TV and CNN, which of course covered the downfall of all economic gains made by anyone in the last 10 years. Europe was having some real difficulties of it’s own too, so we got a double dose of it every time we looked. There was a hint of a ‘tsk-tsk’ tone that some of the commentators had that irked me a little bit, but as we’ve seen lately, all the European countries are getting it handed to them. It was clear however, that the rest of the world is dreading a McCain victory and that they regard Sarah Palin as something of a curiosity instead of bona fide world leader. While it was the discovery of a route around Africa and the discovery of America that did in the great Italian merchant cities, I don’t see anything similar happening today. But if that it the case, I wonder what cities in the US will turn into quaint tourist mecccas for giant crowds of wealthy Indians and Chinese. Boston, maybe? In some ways New England is already there, with the great fishing and whaling towns now sought after tourist destinations.
As Venice started to wind down, we got ready for the last leg of the trip, a cruise through Greece and a stop in Croatia. The empty suitcase we brought along to haul souveniers homes was getting stuffed and the throwaway clothes that we scattered all over Italy were already gone, yielding their spots on the suitcases to other acquisitions. It was a little weird, the feeling that we were on 3 vacations at once, but I won’t say it wasn’t a satisfying one. Cruises are a little different style of vacation. The boat takes care of your food and accommodations and you’re on your own for what you do when the boat stops. This was the second cruise we’d been on, the first being a Caribbean one filled with spring breakers. We both hoped this excursion would be a little less MTV and a little more Discovery Channel, and for the most part I think we got what we were looking for. The crowd on board was definitely a lot older, but since school was in session I didn’t expect many children. When we checked in, the line was a little chaotic and we sort of cut another couple in line. Not really though, 2 ushers pointed us at the same window, M and I just happened to get there first and the other couple had to back and wait for another line. While I wasn’t feeling generous enough to let them cut us, I was worried we’d see the other couple throughout the cruise and risk them staring daggers at us. Sure enough we ended up getting seated with them at dinner. All of our tablemates were pleasant people. The forced friend aspect of the cruise dining was and still is a little odd to me, but it’s been very interesting both times. It’s a little like moving into the new dorm and meeting your roommates or the people down the hall. There’s the fact that you didn’t choose to be with these people specifically, and there’s a good chance that someone tried to pair you up based on some demographic clues they had about both parties. What did they base it on? You could get seated with a politically fringe person or someone with serious personality issues. By virtue of the fact that you chose this cruise specifically and paid for it, that assumes a similar set of interests and possibly equal economic states, so that’s something. As it turned out, we did get seated with the only other 4 25-30 year olds on the boat, or so it seemed. We had two people from Texas who lived in Southern California and two people from Michigan who lived in Northern California. Everyone was seemingly educated and extremely sure of themselves, which made for some pretty interesting conversations. The 6 of us got along well enough that we ended up hanging out after the dinners. One night we did a trivia contest. We lost because there are some islands in Japan that extend farther north than either Turkey or North Korea. And then I signed up to do a version of ‘The Weakest Link’ and got voted off way too soon. I forgot that people who appear to be smart always get knocked off by the dingdongs. It was my own fault though, for answering some questions that I should have tanked, I just couldn’t resist the urge. There was one other night activity of note, and that was a karaoke performance where I covered a Garth Brooks song. I wasn’t planning on doing any singing. Actually, I am a terrible, terrible singer. But this karaoke evening had people really going out of their way to sing long, difficult songs and murdering them. I figured I’d pick a quick and light one, get the crowd clapping. I did my 5 minutes, got some cheers and ran off the stage. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be and I’d almost recommend people try it at least once before they kick. Everybody’s got a song they’ve shouted out at a bar or at a show, you already know the words, so go ahead and try it. One last ship anecdote before I get to the actual cruise part – the rock climbing wall, which kicked my butt last time, was there again. Now even though I got to the top last time, I struggled and was in serious pain when I finished. This time I had been preparing and was sure I’d be able to go for at least one of the harder courses. One night I inspired M to join me on a little climb. M went first, and killed it. I had been watching other cruisers try the wall on previous days and so far I’d only seen kids, with their great strength/weight ratios have any success. M did the wall on her first try and fairly quickly too. There may have been some pain afterwards, but she was fired up by the accomplishment. When it came to be my turn, I scoffed at the kiddie course and asked to do a harder one, which I did with one slip. Once I corrected that mistake, the wall was no problem. Cocky now I asked to go again on a harder course and got myself into big trouble. This reminded me of times when I would be skiing as a little kid and head over to the hardest black diamond trail and end up at a section where I had no idea how I was going to get down. This was similar, except I was going up. There was nothing to hold on to and nowhere to go. Actually there was something to hold on to, but I couldn’t support my weight on something the size and shape of a donut munchkin. Eventually, my forearms gave out and I couldn’t hang on and I quit, bloodied and exhausted. I live to fight another day.
Greece itself was altogether different from Italy. It was much noisier, smokier and wetter, with a whole lot more chaos mixed in. The Acropolis was the highlight of Athens. We took a tour where a bus dropped us of and let us wander around. One of our cruisers was a pair from California/Miami who had clearly been plastic surgery aficionados. From the waist up and the front, they looked to be somewhere in their late 50s or early 60s, but the tires were bare on this pair. The wife dressed like someone in her 20s, and from 100 yards could have passed for one, but then you got up close and it was like a Halloween costume. Really scary stuff. They followed us to the Acroplis and even managed to sneak into one of our pictures. The Acropolis and Greece in general was filled with large, seemingly stray dogs. Apparently the Price is Right doesn’t air in Greece, because Bob Barker’s please to spay and neuter your pets go unheeded in Greece. We later found out that the Acropolis strays were really guard dogs that patrolled the grounds at night because the humans guards were corrupt and the electronic guards were ineffective. We did some shopping after that and ended up eating at our cruise vacation favorite spot, the Hard Rock Café while we waited for the bus back. I don’t know why we travel to these exotic and beautiful lands to eat chicken fingers and nachos in a loud American restaurant, but it’s sort of a tradition at this point. Our other stops in Greece included Corfu (lots more shopping and some adventures in old forts and palaces) Mykonos (wandering around a town that was built to intentionally confuse pirates) and Kataklon/Olympia (a town that only exists when a ship is in port). Mykonos has these windmills that everyone is obligated to see, so M and I set out for them. Based on the map provided, I figured we could walk there. Unfortunately we did no better than the pirates did in navigating the town and ended up way far away from the scenic parts. Fortunately we had slept in that day and by the time we got to these less than scenic parts, the early risers ahead of us were already returning to tell us to head back, saving us a misadventure. By now it was near noon, and very sunny. I needed some sunscreen, since our weather forecasts were woefully inadequate and I left the boat unprepared. The local pharmacy only had the 25 euro sunscreen, so M found a smaller, sample size tube for 7 euros. $12 for a tube of sunblock was better than $40 for some stuff we’d have to throw out, so we got it. When I took the cap off, it had a weird tip on it, almost like a lip balm applicator. I looked at the box and it read ‘sensitive areas’ on it. I started to get a bad feeling about it. When we squeeze it out, it was red, but rubbing it into my fingers didn’t cause any issues, so M tried a spot on my head. Again, no big deal. So then I squeezed a whole bunch out and started rubbing it with my hands. This must have activated the color crystals or something because my hands were now deep red, like wine. Now I was covered in red sunblock and had nowhere to rub it off. So I said what the ^&%$ and started rubbing it all over my face and head. One look from M and I knew we had a problem. I think she said it looked like I just had a sunburn or spent too much time in a tanning booth, but it wasn’t that bad. I knew that was a lie because the crowd of Greeks that had formed at this point were cackling like kids in the schoolyard. After some pantomiming that what I had applied all over my head and face was indeed for lips and ‘sensitive areas’ (hey it’s in Greece, who knows what these people are in to – I know their beaches are somewhat lax and it’s really sunny there), and I was now a glowing red-pink. Luckily it faded by dinner time and I didn’t have to make any awkward explanations for my new hue.
For me, the best day of the cruise was in Croatia. This was the excursion that I had picked out, the 4x4 of road adventure. We’d learned by now that the excursion descriptions can be somewhat creative and I was a little worried about what we were in for. Split, Croatia was not part of the country that was affected by the civil war. For the most part it’s now a vacation spot for other Europeans. The list of available excursions included a lot more churches and monastery tours, which by now I figured we’d be tired of seeing, and I think I was right. So our 4x4 adventure started with us signing ‘waivers’ that consisted of not much more than name and address, there were no drivers license checks and a show of hands for ‘who can drive a stick shift and who wants to drive?’. We broke up into little groups and headed out. Our guides we probably college students, not much older. And we got to do some real off-road driving. The truck we used were relatively new land rover discovery’s , definitely not the ones you see on the highways and driveways. These were sparsely equipped with turbo diesel engines and lots of torque. The ride was bouncy and got hairy in a few places, but as long as the truck in front of me made it, I was sure that I’d be able to plow through it. The driving rotation was supposed to switch drivers every 30 minutes or so, but after the first leg, one couple bailed out of driving responsibility and it was just myself and another guy. It was tiring and by the end people were more than happy to have me do all the driving. Along the way we ate a spinach and garlic pizza type thing, then we had some roasted veal and chicken (‘pikka’ I think I t was called) and we saw where medieval Croats would lure Venetian merchants into a cove and then rob and kill them. As circumstance would have it, we ended up in the vehicle with a couple from Tennessee, one of whom was a doctor. He was probably in his 60s and wanted to talk politics and not in a ‘so what do you think’ kind of way. Of course I couldn’t drop it and tried to engage this person in what turned out to be a multi-hour exchange of ideas. It wasn’t really a debate since we were both just picking each other’s brains. As we departed, he shook my hand and thanked me for my opinions, something that has never happened to me before. It was probably the most adult thing that’s happened to me in a year. 4 wheeling and political discourse aside, it was a very nice visit to Croatia.
So that’s the vacation, in a few thousand words. There were some other incidents including a night in Germany, some dog smash, a romantic 1st anniversary dinner, a lot of pizza, a gondola ride, and a whole lot more, but for now I’m going to stop. I don’t have a whole lot to say about the election, other than I hope the right guy wins, and by that I mean the ‘left’ guy and not the ‘right’ guy.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

I'm Back

Vacation is over. It's been over a month since I posted, and I'll put something good up soon. In the meantime, here's a summariaztion of an interview I saw last night:

When times are good, middle class America suddenly becomes very conservative, because they think they're the next ones to get rich. When times are bad, they suddenly become very liberal because they think they're the next ones to become poor.

So that's what I have for now. Deep thoughts by B

Monday, August 25, 2008

Keep your eyes on your nerd book

This morning, I had a few options for my commute:
1. Get to work. I had a training presentation to give at 10 and wasn't very prepared for it. 1:15 on the train would be a good time to get caught up and start the week right.
2. Get to sleep. I slept like crap the last few nights and had a legitimate nightmare last night. I have long been an advocate for nightmares (real ones, not just stressful dreams). I mean monsters and fire, real scary nightmares. The human mind is a wild and wooly place and I like exploring it. I woke up screaming last night and had an amputation level of dead-arm on Saturday that gave me a good jolt. The train is sometimes a good place to catch a few z's. That is, unless you slump over on your seatmate or start snoring.
3. Watch a movie. I've been getting man movies from netflix, and instead of watching them in hotel rooms, I watch them on the train. It's nice starting the day with fire and explosions and racing engines.

I chose #3. This week's fare is 'Eastern Promises'. I skipped the previews, which are normally a good indicator of what you're about to watch. I jumped right on the main event and was greeted with "Rated R for strong brutal and bloody violence, some graphic sexuality, language and nudity'. Hmm. All the things a growing morning needs, right? There wasn't anyone sitting near me, so I figured I could get a few scenes out of the way without offending anyone. Wrong. It's not like I was caught by surprise at the questionable scenes - I could see them coming - it was the depth and detail of the 'strong and brutal bloody violence' that I wasn't really prepared for. A few years of romantic comedies have sort of taken my brutal violence calluses off. After 30 minutes or so, I started to get some seatmates, so I tilted the screen away so as not to cause a ruckus, but I started to feel like a dirtbag for hiding my screen - I mean who sees a guy hiding his screen and doesn't wonder why he's hiding? Once the train really filled up, I noticed the guy next to me was no longer reading his software engineering book and was blatantly staring at my laptop screen. He couldn't hear what was playing, but aparrently what I was wathcing was compelling enough. There did come a scene where I had to shut it off or else really risk offending anyone within eyesight of me. Judging by my co-rider's sulking and sigh when he went back to his book, I think he was disappointed, but I don't want to end up on channel 5 at 11, facing charges that I offended someone. I still have 45 minutes or so left for my ride home. I can't wait...

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Dark Water

Something big is going down in B-town. yesterday I went for a couple of walks down by the water and I saw these huge puppies down there. I haven't seen boats like this since M and I were in Monaco or Antibes. Really impressive, easily the biggest boats in the harbor. So of course I joined in the crowds of gawkers and took some photos. I don't know where you get this kind of $$, but it's not by saving your paper route and birthday money.


In other, more domesticated news, I spent my morning elbow deep with a plunger and foul liquid. It's not what you're thinking though. It was my bathroom sink. Now why would I be doing this in the morning? I have no earthly idea. I woke up at 6, got in the bathroom and decided that the slow drain was bothering me so I filled up the sink and went to town with the plunger. It made some bubbling gurgling noises and regurgitated 9 months of head shavings, which really stink. Not in the figurative sense - they reeked. I also had the shower running while I did this, so the bathroom filled with a thick steam accentuated by the miasma I had conjured up from the deep pipes in the walls, making it almost unbreathable. M was still warmly snuggled in bed, so I couldn't throw open the door to let the fresh air in. I mean I could have, but the trade off would have been short lived. Even worse, the slow drain had now turned to a completely stopped drain. I couldn't leave the black brew in the sink to let it go away on it's own, so I dug my hands in there and tried to see if anything was wedged in the drain. There were big solid pieces of something that I had summoned up. I don't remember sending these down, but they had come back. I broke these up and plungered even more strenuously than before. The water seemed to go away, but not exactly fast. I filled it up again for round 2 and got a more consistent result this time. A few quick plunges, no more belching sounds and the drain emptied like a champion. Crisis solved. M told me hers is a little slow too, so I'm lined up for more fun tonight. Good times.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Salty Blog

I was going to start off with a tirade about my work and why I’m leaving late and on a local train (instead of an express), but then I realized that it’s Friday, I’m not doing any work this weekend and we’ve got some pretty fun stuff planned, so I won’t let the bozo explosion over at client X get to me while I’m on weekend shore leave.


The pseudo-birthday grill special was a prime rib, and it did not disappoint. It probably wasn’t a true prime rib, I think that’s usually cut from the first 1-4 ribs of the steer, this was a second cut and wasn’t prime grade, but it was in the neighborhood. We picked it up at the Stop N Shop while they were on sale. Actually, I’d never seen them for sale at any price there. It’s hard to justify buying a $30 piece of meat for 2 people, but I threw it in for some occasion or maybe a night when M was out and I wanted to go on a beef bender. A few days before Sunday, I took it out to thaw and then age in the refrigerator. Then I made up a paste of salt, pepper, garlic, rosemary and black pepper grapeseed oil. Gave it a good coating, set it on the grill to cook for an hour and a half at 250-300 and we were good to go. We served it with some pepper skewers, sausages from the meat share, grilled onions and a potato salad I made with potatoes I roasted on the grill and tossed with ranch dressing, paprika, pepper sauce and some of the beef drippings. I made a bad joke at the meal about drenching the taters in rendered beef fat. I skimmed the fat off before I tossed in the drippings. That’s not to say I didn’t consider it, but I’m not looking for the gout before I am 50 at least. After 50, I’m open to it, but not before.

Much to M’s dismay and vocal displeasure football season is almost here, which means Fantasy Football (FFL) time. When I started my very first job, I was introduced to the game by a few of the older guys I worked with. They’d come in every day, bragging about how one of their players killed it the night before and there’d be a lot of trash talking for the better part of the morning. At the time, they were talking about baseball, but I’d never done fantasy sports so I didn’t know what was going on. When they invited me to their league, I was a little unsure about the cost - $100 to join? that was a lot of good times right there – so I split the cost with another co-worker and shared a team. Needless to say, we basically donated the money to the league as we were woefully unprepared. By the time the next season came around, I was hooked. Since the company itself was full of slackers and easy jobs, there was ample time to do research, talk trash and generally spend more time on fake sports leagues than actual honest work, but I wasn’t complaining. If all these other people could do it, why not me? This was still in the somewhat early days of the internet as we know it and FFL sites were nonexistent, which meant tons of time analyzing and researching the old fashioned way. It was an incredible time suck but I never had so much fun at work. FFL alone could not keep me at that brutally awful job, so I quit and traded (somewhat) lucrative and satisfying work for FFL glory. I still belong to that league. The draft isn’t until September 2nd and this year I may actually get to attend. I’ve missed the past 2 because of work traveling. I’m a mediocre player at best. Some years I catch a wild train ride to the finals, other times I stink out the place, but it’s always fun to send obscene emails and generally try to be as offensive as possible in the name of a game. Given this spotty history, I decided to double down on the frustration and worry and join a second league, this one made up of coworkers at my current employer. So far I have made it a point not to socialize too much with coworkers. I find that I spend quite enough time with them already. So far it’s been an interesting strategy. My utter lack of interest in work socializing has made my real life seem that much more mysterious to the people around me and I want to keep it that way. In FFL though, there is a good chance the worlds will collide, George Costanza-style. I’m a somewhat different person to my co-workers, a little more reserved, a little more conservative. To the FFL people, I’m a lot freer with my opinions. It’s going to be a hard line to walk. I’ve seen a few email battles already with the new league and I may have to bat the bees’ nest around a little.

So that’s about it, my train is empty, it’s raining and I’m feeling great. Another 1600 words of nonsense, courtesy of B.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Phones and Rolls

So what’s new…. It’s been too rainy to do any real grilling, but I’m planning something big for my fake birthday. My family tends to travel on the anniversary of my being born in 0 A.B., so we’re doing it this weekend, although they won’t all be there at once. You see, I’m so fly I get my birthday spread out over several weeks, like a book or movie tour, with different audiences and accolades.

We finally got the Iphone. The acquisition was anticlimactic. There was this big long wait for it and a ton of publicity and people waiting in lines like the cure for their itch was being given away for free. I’d been through this before. In 1984, I was 7 years old and the Transformers landed on these shores. I saw the reports that no stores had them. I saw the commercials, the cartoons, but I’d never seen one in person. I wanted one more than anything I had wanted in my life up to that point. When the day came when all American children get what they desire, for no reason at all, other than they are American and their parents got it for them (Christmas), I felt deep down that there would be no Transformers coming. Santa was good, but he didn’t shop at Child World, and I knew Toys R Us was flat out. There was no Ebay or Amazon to the rescue. I didn’t even know what shape a transformer would be (I had never seen one!). So when I opened the package and there was Megatron and my brother MH opened up Optimus Prime, I think a part of me died a little. I knew now that all I had to do was wish and hope and miracles would happen, forever destroying my work ethic. That’s what I think. What I know happened is that pure chaos erupted. I am getting goose bumps just writing this, remembering the pure adrenaline tail wagging barking giddiness that only a small child can feel. I also remember completely breaking down and crying in frustration when I couldn’t make Megatron turn into his robot form because I tossed the directions aside. It took my mechanical engineer father what seemed like hours to figure it out so he could teach me. Does anyone remember what Megatron’s non-robot form was? Anyone? A Walther P38. That’s a gun. A life-sized gun. There are a few iconic guns out there, the cowboy and his colt, 007 and his PPK. You know who made the P38 famous? The Wermacht, i.e. Germany’s Army circa WWII. So I essentially got a nazi war toy for Christmas that turned me from a happy innocent child into a greed loving frustration case overwhelmed with joy and excitement. So here in 2008, 24 years later, those Transformer (and Cabbage Patchers, 1984 was a good year for toys) kids got a new toy, the IPhone. The phone costs roughly 20 times as much (with a 2 year subscription!, monthly rates vary), but you can sign up for a list and instead of rioting in the aisles when they arrive you simply show up and claim your prize like Ed McMahon sent you a letter. We picked it up, did the paperwork, paid another chunk for a holster (yes a holster, I am a yuppie cowboy and my phone is my pistol) and that was about it. There were no screams, no instruction book, we casually went shopping afterwards as if nothing had happened. There were nearly some tears though, when I tried to get it to work with my employer’s email. I am still capable of childish temper tantrums when I can’t get my toys to work, which is good to know. I’ve spent the past few days buying music and generally learning how to use it. Overall I’m happy, but I don’t get any goosebumps when I look at it. M and I will be able to get our intended use from it and that’s the most important bit. And I get a little bit of cool out of it for a few more weeks, which ain’t bad.


In other news, I saw a ghost. Not a real ghost. Is that even possible? Can you see a ‘real’ bigfoot, or the ‘actual’ loch ness monster, or an ‘ethical’ republican? Anyway, I saw a Rolls Royce Phantom being parked in a lot around the corner from my office. I don’t work in a particularly pimped area, although I do see the occasional nice car. The Ferraris and Bentleys usually get parked in the valet spaces underground. This was out in the open, in a scrub lot with a teenager running it. I had to stop and take a picture because I found it hard to believe that someone gave the keys to their $300,000.00 car to a teenager, but they did. I looked it up - RR has sold only 3703 of these things worldwide since 2003. I know most of them to the middle east and Asia. Let’s say that half of them are. That’s 1850 for Europe and North America. I’ll pretend they’re distributed evenly and being that there are about 250,000,000 cars in North America alone, that would give me a .00037% chance of seeing one of these cars. I don’t want that kind of luck. If I’m going to overcome incredible odds, I want to win the Mega Millions. The fact that I managed to buy a home and get married to M should tell me that my winning lotto tickets have already been cashed, but that damn transformer just made be greedy. As an aside to the Rolls story, one of the features of the Rolls is that the back seat is nicer than the front, because you’re so stinking filthy rich that you pay someone to drive you around and the owner shouldn’t get the crappy seat. I wonder what these rich folks do with their sports cars? Do they drag Jeeves into the backseat so they can show everyone they are so rich that they drive their sports car with a guy in the back who is paid to be there? But I digress. There’s supposedly some snob joke that one drives a Bentley but gets driven in a Rolls. There were no chauffeurs to be seen on this day. So there’s a broke Rolls owner driving his own car, parking it in a budget lot downtown. Somewhere a violin weeps.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Pahkin's at a wicked premium fellas

A few years back, my brother and I went to a 'Stag Party' held in honor of a friend of his. He was getting married and a social club his father belonged to held this party, sold tickets to it, gave us as much beer as we could handle, roasted him and then gave him the money they raised. I was a little skeptical, but it was actually one of the more fun nights out I'd had. As we pulled up to the hall where the party was, a helper of some sort walked up to us and said (in an extreme form of new england accent) 'Pahkin's at a wicked premium fellas, make sure you keep it tight', so we moved in close to the car next to us. It's one of those quotes that I'll get mileage out of it forever.

Today, at my parking lot, I watched a guy pull up in a smallish silver pickup truck. Most drivers back in or pull all the way through to the other side of the grid so they can make a screeching exit and not be that clown backing up into a surly crowd of rush hour commuters. This guy didn't, then he diecided he wanted to pull all the way through. Except he only got about 3/4 of the way. I saw this and started barking at him in my mind, but I was certain he'd notice and pull forward so the next person could have a spot. He got out of the truck to make sure he was straight, and he definitley noticed his tail was hanging way out into the next spot. He even made a face like he just stepped into something, but inexplicably, he looked around, thought about it and then walked away. I'll be interested in seeing if anyone tries to use the spot he jammed up with his laziness. Where I go, pahkin is indeed at a wicked premium and a wasted spot is unlikely, but I don't see how anything other than a smart car or mini is going to fit in there. Just in case I see it again, I have printed out some labels to remind the driver that I do not approve of how they choose their parking ...

Monday, July 21, 2008

All Caught Up

We spent some time this weekend getting caught up with the rest of the world. We saw the big blockbuster movie of the moment, but before that we scooped up a hot gotta have it new technogadget. It was interesting getting acquainted with what all the other cool people are doing. If we didn’t already live in Massachusetts, we could be out there campaigning for Obama and plunking down cash for a Prius. But we do, and no matter whom we vote for in November, the state is going for BHO. I’ve already detailed why we opted for the Subaru (it snows a lot here and the Prius looks pretty wimpy for bad weather driving).
So with the politics and automobile statements out of the way, we’re on to the two more hot items on which you can put people into a neat little box, their choice of mobile phone and movies. I’ll start with the movies. M and I watch our fair share of flicks. When we merged our collections, we were concerned that our DVD’s would get confused. Have no fear, all off mine came in black DVD jackets and hers came in white. If you don’t believe me, look at an action movie box or a romantic comedy box. It’s true. So you can tell from 30 feet which movies are mine and which are hers. We nixed cable so we could do nextflix where we started with the black and white classics and have since moved on to the mundane (Fool’s Gold), bizarre (Be Kind Rewind) and mindless (Smokin’ Aces). This weekend, we were supposed to do a black/white double dip of Mamma Mia and The Dark Knight, but time and circumstances prevented MM form remaining on the docket. We opted for a matinee of the 3+ hour (including early arrival for good seat and commercials/previews) Batman movie. M was somewhat less than excited to see it, but she liked the first edition and acquiesced, despite promises of darkness and gloom. It definitely delivered. It lived up to expectations, which is always a tiny bit more disappointing then being surprised (Iron Man). Good thing we saw it too, because half of my team saw it also and we’ve already had a fierce discussion about everything from the previews to the third installment. Everyone else had to sit around and wish they saw it instead of doing whatever else they did last weekend. Suckers.
So what does going to a big blockbuster movie say about you? You could have just been bored that weekend. A lot of moviegoers are these types. A hot summer day, kids home from school, what else are you going to do? A movie is a nice thing to do with the family. Maybe you were on a date? I wouldn’t classify hand to hand combat as a good opportunity to make your move, but a lot of people go on dates at the movies. But would that justify waiting in a line and dealing with the unwashed masses for a half a day? I know people who never, ever go to the movies. The last movie they saw in the theater was probably 10 years ago or more. I also know people who only see ‘event’ movies. I’d say there’s a certain mentality to go with these two types. It’s a combination of frugality ($22 for two people vs. $2 rental fee), convenience (you have to go to the theater when both your schedules fit vs. waiting at home until you have the time) and patience (some of us have to seeitrightnow vs. those who don’t). If we had a big time home theater, I’d have a hard time justifying a movie theater ticket. Part of the movie theater experience is for the big sound and great picture, but if you’ve spent a decent vacation equivalent on a home theater, then you need to see approximately 900 home movies to recoup your investment. I can just imagine the guys sitting at home still using laserdiscs or SuperVHS repeatedly in an attempt to balance out the extreme layout they did 15 years ago. There are the people who go to the movies every weekend, either because they are film junkies or that’s just what they do on the weekend. (These people go to see dreck like National Treasure or anything starring Jason Biggs) There are the fanboys who religiously stalk a certain director or film series. You see these types camping out before opening night (see Peter Jackson/Hobbit movies or Wachovsky siblings/Matrix/Speed Racer). I used to be a Quentin Tarentino stalker, but I think that’s something you grow out of by the time you want to start meeting serious women. Right now I can say that I’ve got a bit of a bias towards Michael Mann movies, but I didn’t take a day off to see Miami Vice (I did enjoy it thoroughly though). M and I are somewhere in between. We enjoy going to the movies a lot. We like the bad popcorn and watery sprite. We like getting our seats in just the right place so we can sneak out as fast as possible. We like spotting upcoming film trailers and waiting for the opening weekend. We like trading points so we can drag the other to something they don’t want to see. Depending on the awfulness, there are many points to be won or lost. Superbad KILLED me, but I almost won it all back with Enchanted. I suspect the Dark Knight will cost me quite a bit. I was hoping to offset the damage with Mamma Mia, and there’s still time.
In a different way, your cell phone also says a lot about you. Do you not have a cell phone? It must have been traumatic for you watching the Hindenberg go down. Do you own a phone that’s 5 or more years old? You tell everyone that you just want to use it for calls, but you don’t even use it for that. If you did, you’d be frustrated that you can’t hear anything and your battery is always dead and get a newer one. That phone is as useful as a stapler in your bag/pocket. Are you a serious business-type? You probably have something with a million buttons on it and maybe a stylus for jotting your ideas down. A lot of these people carry Blackberries (their company ‘forced’ one on them) or some variation of a giant but anonymous smartphone class of device. These usually have way too much software and their users have no idea how 99% of it works. If you do a lot of text messaging, there are a series of phones that are basically keyboards with a cell antenna on them. I happen to have a blackberry pearl. My old Motorola (at least 3 years old at the time) couldn’t hold a charge for more than 4 hours and the voice quality on it was sketchy. But I was cheap and my company wasn’t handing out phones, so I stuck with it. I passed on the first few generations of bible sized blackberries and tiny-slim Razrs. I didn’t want to be forced to carry my phone on my belt or pay $400 just to have a skinny phone with a crappy battery. My el cheapo had a crappy battery all on its own. The ol’ Moto had a camera and a few games that kept me entertained, but when my nightly calls home from the road kept breaking up every 10 minutes, M had enough and made me get a new one, which is how I came to acquire the pearl. I was skeptical of always being attached to email, but in a way it was liberating. I didn’t have to dread being out of the office for a few days and coming in to a pile of messages waiting for me. I could type out text messages a lot faster, I could even cruise the internet in a somewhat limited manner, and the phone fit in my pocket and even looked like a phone. So I became a fan of the pearl and blackberries in general. The software is basic and to the point, the camera is a lot better than the old one and the battery is durable. So this is a long winded way of saying I am not an early adopter or technophile when it comes to the mobile phone. The IPhone was interesting for a bit, but $500 for a phone seems ridiculous to me. Which brings me to where were ended up on Sunday, an AT&T store buying an IPhone 3G. In preparation for our upcoming vacation, M read that you can download MP3 tours of sites we’re visiting, which seemed like a good idea for countries where we no-speeeka-the-language. We don’t own an Ipod between us, so either a Nano or Touch seemed like contenders. If we wanted to play games or watch movies while we’re traveling, the Touch starts to look more appealing, if pricey. Coincidentally M needs a new phone and switch to AT&T. She really is one of those people who only uses a phone for calls so we were going to have to get a bargain basement phone and endure the sarcastic looks from the phone store workers. That’s when it dawned on us, almost simultaneously, that we can get an IPhone and use that for the MP3, movie, game thing. Then I can take the IPhone for my work and M can have my Pearl. So we plunked down our cash and in 10-21 days we will have a shiny toy. I feel a little bit like I’m drinking the kool-aid on this one, but it really makes sense and we get to have a slick little device until the next great thing comes along.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Downtime

It's tough to get a good firm grip on the week when the first 4 hours of your day are spent staring at a screen that doesn't do anything. IT migrated our domain over the weekend and in the process broke everything. I even left my laptop at the desk so they could get work done for me ahead of time and I would come in and be efficient right away. This prevented me from watching I Am Legend or coming up with a new post on Friday. Instead, I read up on one of the scores from the Falmouth library book raid M and I conducted over the 4th. We got a huge stash of new reading material, which now includes a few of the Patrick O'Brien series about Jack Aubrey, 3 of which were turned into a file titled Master and Commander: The far side of the world. It turns out Master and Commander and Far Side of the World are two separate books and there are elements of the third in the movie as well. I liked the movie a lot and figured the books would good entertainment. They're mostly written in a 18th century voice with a lot of nautical terminology and period slang, which takes some time to get used to. I'm about ½ way through the first, Master and Commander and so far, so good. Fiction is somewhat of a stretch for me, as most of my favorite books have been true stories, but a few of the all time greats were fictional so there is room for them in the reading repertoire. I'm not expecting the Killer Angels, but it's better than scanning websites on my phone during the commute.

In addition to relieving the public library system of books they don't want, we also joined a community supported agriculture (CSA) meat share program. Without the CSA, the local farmer, if they want to sell all their produce to a distributor, get locked into a certain price. The distributor then sells this to a grocery store at a markup and then you get it from the store at their markup. The farmer doesn't get a great price, you the buyer pay a higher price and the produce you get has been sitting around for a while. With a CSA model, you buy directly from the farmer for a subscription price. There is a tradeoff, namely you only get what the farm happens to produce at any given time and there is a potential for a crop failure. The benefit is you get extremely fresh goods, locally grown and the farmer knows how much income they will have for the year so they can plan accordingly. All in all it seems like a pretty good deal for everyone but the middleman. I don't feel too bad for these guys, I mean we're still going to get bananas and oranges from warm places. But it seems ridiculous to have to get produce from South America or California that can be grown just as well locally. With this list of benefits, of course the lines to join a produce CSA are extremely long and for some reason only for people who live in Boston. M tried to get some delivered to her work, but it's too far away from the source. Out in the hinterlands where we live there are some, but they are all sold out already. Maybe next year. Instead, we joined a meat share, which works sort of the same way, except with meat. All the animals are processed (killed) in an FDA-inspected facility and are packed and frozen so that once a month M picks up a big cooler full of whatever they happen to have around. This time it was some burgers, sausage, chicken breast, ham, steaks and maybe something else? It was about 10lbs and the price per lb total was about what you'd pay for boneless chicken breasts. So far we've eaten the burgers and chicken breasts and they were excellent. The burgers were pre-formed and there weren't any surprises, which is about what you want from ground beef. The chicken was on the bone and not split, so I did some minor trimming and made some curry skewers for the grill. One last note about dinner – never, ever eat a pound of chard, no matter how good it tastes, you will regret it. The meat is raised free range/pasture and grass fed. This is somewhat different from mass-produced meats which can be grassfed but are usually grain-finished in massive feedlots throughout the Midwest. In a feedlot, cows get to eat as much corn as they can handle. Now if a person eats nothing but grain for a few weeks, they're going to swell right up and that's what the cattle do, giving that rich marbled texture we all love. As unhealthy that is for people, it's also not great for cattle. Big deal, they're destined for the grill anyway, right? That's probably right, but I'll give the grass fed stuff a chance just because I would think that suddenly stuffing the cow full of grain isn't how it was meant to be. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not railing against sad living conditions or big agriculture. Rather I'm arguing for better flavor and a healthier meal.

Speaking of steaks, I read an article recently about aging your own beef in your refrigerator. This has got me really excited. These days not many butchers dry age their beef. For one, as it ages, it dries out somewhat and the weight goes down, raising the price. For another, traditional dry aging takes up more space than wet-aging, another reason not to do it. I'd rather have the dry-aged stuff myself and I was always curious about how to do this. Now that I've got a technique, I'd like to try it. Here are some locals hanging out in the parks around town.





wish I had more exciting stuff to write about. It's been a lazy few weekends. I'm looking forward to the new Batman movie. Saw Fool's Gold last night – skip it. That's all for now. Once again I am pledging to make good on more than one post every 10 days. We'll see what happens….

Monday, June 30, 2008

The Blog Show

(cue theme music)
Coming at you live and in person from the 6:15 express train! Heeeere’s the Exurbanite! Appearing today will be a full recap of the bathroom renovation, another tuna grill and any other random thoughts Mr. Incredible manages to come up with before his battery dies.
(music stop)
Thank you Johnny. As always a fine introduction. Hey everyone, let’s hear it for the Exurbanite blog band!
(applause)
They just got back from performing at Bonaroo and booing Kanye West off stage, so let’s forgive the patchouli and stale beer smell coming off them for now. We’ve got a good blog for you tonight so let’s jump right into it. First of all, this is the inaugural commuter rail edition of the Exurbanite. I’ve had a really old work laptop for the past few years. When I first got it, I cleaned a small sweater’s worth of cat hair out of the keys. Despite the grunginess, it was a stout, if slow piece of hardware. I had some real triumphs with it, but the battery life was only good for about 40 minutes. If you take into consideration the 20 minutes of startup time, 20 minutes of actual operation was really inadequate, so it never went mobile for anything more than an emergency pinball or solitaire game. So here we are with an improved piece of hardware – hopefully it will last for the ride home. Unfortunately, I’m on the circa 1978 train tonight, so the free wifi I had been looking forward to will not be happening.



Did anyone know that over at Bandmeltun we were doing a bathroom project? That’s right, the exurbanite who wrote about not being a home fixer actually tried to do something beyond changing a lightbulb and it seems to have paid off. After I chipped off the tile and partially destroyed the wall, I did a little research and spent 3 days plastering, waiting and sanding until I had a reasonable facsimile of a wall.


Despite crushing humidity, it dried in time to be painted this weekend. A Michelangelo fresco it is not, but it’s not bad. While the plastering was going on, I also removed the existing sink and vanity top and mirror. It’s sitting up in the loft at the moment, not unlike a modern art masterpiece. I’m considering leaving it on a pedestal and shining a light on it. With everything removed, it was time to tape and prime. Mrs. Incredible did her super fast tape job while I made a toilet tarp out of masking tape and grocery bags. If the work thing doesn’t work out, I can always make a super slick hobo survival suit out of random trash. After I got green on the freshly repainted ceiling, M booted me down to the crayon-level tasks, where I stayed. I hadn’t hugged a toilet like that in years – at least this time I remembered it.


The greenish primer did a good job on the red and after a night of drying it was time for real paint. At some point in the project we lost our backup light source due to an outlet failure. I need to learn how to use my volt meter before I can tackle that one though. We persevered and did our two coats before humidity sent us to bed again. I was all for a speedy finish, but even after 2 hours the last coat hadn’t set yet, so I gave in to fight another day. Sunday started with a vengeance. We finished the space saver. I hadn’t had much experience with these growing up, but I’m starting to appreciate them. M’s new one was kind of a time suck, requiring more thought and improvisation than I think it intended, but it’s sturdy and much better looking than its predecessor.



Not it was time for the final assembly. Having forgone a custom piece, our out of the box granite countertop needed some masonry. It did come with an awl and instructions on where to hit. After a few tentative taps, I realized this was a piece of granite and not a Faberge egg and got my sculptor on. Hole punching complete, next up was fitting. I’ve seen enough home improvement shows to know construction isn’t as precision as say, watchmaking, but a 90 degree angle should be expected with most corners, right? Not at Bandmeltun. At least not according to the vanity top. We did have sidesplashes to cover the gaps. Next time you come over, don’t mention it and you’ll be invited back. After a fitting and consult, I had my first run with liquid nails construction adhesive. Wow. If I knew about this stuff as a teenager there would have been trouble. I did a few strength tests to determine how much to use, quickly realizing than a little is quite enough. It lists LIMESTONE as an ingredient. That’s like saying you tossed some carbon steel into your tinfoil to make hold an edge better. I believe the Roman coliseum is made out of limestone. I don’t think the next owners will have as good a go at removing the new vanity top and sidesplahes as I did with those weak tiles and particleboard vanity top. With the counter in place, it was time for plumbing. I’ve never done plumbing beyond supergluing pvc remnants together to make a potato gun. Fiery flying onions aside, I was a little skeptical of this part of it. After reading all 1 page of instructions though, I figured it was worth a try before asking a more accomplished home improver for a rescue. I knew I needed to turn the water off and I had already disconnected the existing hardware without any floods, so now it was just reverse the process and turn it all back on. And. It. Worked. Sort of. After we got it all assembled, the 5! Year old cold water supply shutoff decided it was cranky or dry and started leaking. I’ve lived in houses that had freezer occupants older than Bandmeltun that didn’t freak out when the water got turned off. Of course those houses are built out of pure asbestos, lead and radium, all the building blocks a growing house needs, while our little unit is a little less lethally built. A few choice curses, silicone injections and ¼ turn of a nut and we were back in business.


The last bit, the whole reason we did this job, was the sink. The sink sits on a little collar, giving it an almost anti-gravitational look. We got the cheap chrome collar after the flamboyant home depot expo guy said we could spray paint things brown and then smear black paint on it to get a bronze look. M and I are established spray paint decorators, so it was the lower priced chrome collar over the bronze one. The collar was so successful, we may try bronzing other things, like the fridge. Who wants stainless when you can have bronze?? So the sink went on its little stand, and we attached a drain that didn’t quite line up with the trap. Luckily the store sold an industrial crazy straw for this exact application. A little adjusting and we were in business. Not a bad project overall. I think this earned me some credits towards more aggressive attempts, like the staircase hidden behind the bookshelves I’ve always wanted…


After a successful bathroom reno, what could we do for an encore? M and I decided grilling was in order and broke out some tuna streaks and burgers for dinner. M has really been expanding her palette lately, which has been great. I thought she’d be game for the Ahi tuna this time, but it was just a burger for her albeit with grande veggies. On our first date, we went to a bar that had some really wild burgers, and I figured it had something for everyone. And sure enough it did. The ’naked’ burger was the winner for M. Meat, bun, done. I got something that had onions, cheese, peppers, bacon and bbq sauce. I think I needed a fork and knife to eat it. If M could sit through watching me eat that, I knew she was the one. So on this night, we grilled up the tunas, a burger, some sweet potatoes and M steamed some edamame. We finished it off with ice cream and some PBS. It was a good day.
So that’s the blog for today. I hope you enjoyed it. Come back again soon when we have new material. Have a good one out there.
(the new laptop survived the trip admirably. Even more impressive was me typing 1298 of these words with just my right hand - seating conditions prevented me from using my left. My typing style is unorthodox at best, typing with 3 or 4 fingers, but years of video gaming have honed the muscles to taut pounding machines. 1298 words in 1 hour, that’s 21.633333 words per minute!)