Pet Cobra

So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish

2005-03-21T14:49:00.000-08:00

Well, Blogger, it's been real. I'm firing up Pet Cobra 2.0, thanks to TypePad, which I'm loving already. Here's the NEW ADDRESS:

http://ruggerjay.typepad.com/pet_cobra/

Please go there. And if you have me linked on your sites, you'll get all the hetero man-love I can muster by changing the olde addresse to the new one above.

Are you still here? Go!

Pet Cobra 2.0

2005-03-21T07:48:00.000-08:00

To quote an estimable Sailor Man: "I've had all I can stands - I can't stands no more!" On a whim I changed the template in a desparate attempt to get back my links, archives, and profile. As you can see, no luck. Blogger. I curse you. I cuuuuuuuuuuuuurse you.

I'm figuring out my course of action for Pet Cobra 2.0. I'm leaning heavily towards TypePad; since I'm HTML illiterate, I don't think I can whip up a "from-scratch" version of this blog, as much as I'd dearly like to. So whatever happens, I'll let you all know my new address when it's up and running. There's lots I'd like to do - new layout, graphics, categories, all that good stuff. I'd appreciate suggestions on the best way to make this happen!

Meanwhile, had a relaxing weekend, spending most of yesterday at the beach. The surf was unspeakable, mixed up and blown out, so no regrets there. There's apparently a Sunday game of touch rugby on the Del Mar shores; we're out of town next weekend but I'm planning on checking it out the weekend following.

This morning I get to roll up the sleeves and go man-a-mano with the boss over my pay situation. Wish me luck.

2005-03-20T21:52:00.000-08:00

Hang 20

My Relationship Is On The Rocks

2005-03-19T08:01:00.000-08:00

Blogger, we need to talk.

First, and I know this is shallow - you're, well, ordinary. I admit it - I find myself gazing longingly at other people's blogs. Wondering what it must be like to have a catchy logo, or to know the thrill of posting pictures without using Hello. Top ten lists. What I'm Reading. Yes, Blogger, you have a great personality, but physically, you just don't do it for me anymore.

And I feel like I don't even know who you are. Blogger Buzz? You've changed, and not in a good way.

But most of all, you're not there for me when I need you. It's been two days since I called you for help. And how do you respond? You direct me to Blogger Buzz.

It's not you, Blogger. It's me. I'm just not into you anymore. I think I need to see another host.

Happy Fucking Friday

2005-03-18T13:00:00.000-08:00

Ugh. Like the new look of Pet Cobra? I guess I'm not alone in my Blogger woes. Oh well. You get what you pay for. Hopefully things will be fixed by Monday. On tap for the weekend - rain. Should be starting any minute. Which means I'll be stuck in the house, obsessing over my current work predicament. Have a good weekend, all, and send good thoughts my way.

Oh, and I watched Napoleon Dynamite last night. I don't get it.

Bend Over, Drop Your Pants, and Spread 'Em

2005-03-17T14:25:00.000-08:00

So I got my Official Offer Letter today, the one that I was so excited to receive (based on the title of this entry, and the preceding sentence, those of you who've taken Literature 101 should be able to recognize Ironic Foreshadowing).

Long story short - I did the math. The salary numbers on the offer letter added up to several thousand dollars LESS THAN WHAT I AM CURRENTLY MAKING AS A CONTRACTOR.

Tuesday my boss told me that I would not be making MORE than what I was drawing in take-home. Well, technically, it seems she was correct.

Now, my boss had to up and leave for Virginia this morning to deal with a crisis at one of our offices there. She will not be back until Monday, my deadline for signing and accepting that offer. So I emailed her the following: " In our conversation you stated that my salary would not increase, and I had no expectation that it would. However, my current salary is $_/hour, translating to $______annualized based on 2080 hours worked. As stated in the letter, my annual salary would decrease to $_______. To be honest, I was surprised at this, as in my experience I've never seen a reduction in take-home pay with candidates converting into a full-time regular position. Is this something that we can discuss when you have a moment?"

Now, I'm currently making $3,000 or so less than my predecesor, who was himself a fulltime employee with full benefits. What I was offered is close to $10,000 less than what he was making. That is UN-FUCKING-ACCEPTABLE.

I'm actually at a loss for words right now. Well, other than goddamnmotherfuckingassholepieceofshit.

Top 'O The Mornin' To Ya

2005-03-17T09:05:00.000-08:00

Sure 'an begorah, I'm tired as fuck. (My Colin Farrell impersonation.) )

Lucas woke up shrieking at midnight, and cried nonstop until 1:00. We couldn't figure out what was wrong. Tried everything - diaper change, water, rocking, singing, reciting his favorite bedtime story. Of the numerous Horrible Feelings that come with being a parent, that ranks up at the top - your child is very, very upset, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

But there's a flip side, as always - he woke up this morning laughing and happy. Must be the smidgen of Irish blood (courtesy of me nana)in him.

Highs and Lows

2005-03-16T20:46:00.000-08:00

The good part: getting to spend the day with Lucas. We had breakfast and watched rugby, then went to Sea World for the afternoon. It was a lovely spring day, sunny and warm, and we had a blast. No pictures, as I'll keep the day in my mind forever. This is a sad fact: I won't get too many days like this, just me and him, and today was one to be cherished.

The bad part: a while back, Lucas figured out how to open up the disc tray on the Xbox. He did so this evening, and decided to lean on the open tray with all of his weight, and in doing so busted it. I can buy a new one for what it'll cost to fix. So a milestone - the first expensive item to fall victim to our inquisitive kid. (Silver lining - not buying EA Sports Rugby 2005 WAS the wise move...)

My Thing With Money

2005-03-15T12:54:00.000-08:00

I got the greenlight to buy EA Sports Rugby 2005. This is HUGE. I get to BUY AN XBOX GAME WITH MY WIFE'S BLESSING. It's a reward for the good news yesterday.

So I'm at Best Buy today, and I have the game in hand, and I'm about to buy it...and then I pause. It's $40. Not a lot of money. Then the overthinking starts. The game will be on sale within weeks because rugby is a fringe sport and there probably isn't a big market for it. Then I start thinking of what else that $40 can go towards; I need new everything (shoes, shirts, shorts, underwear socks, contacts...). Then I start feeling guilty - we don't a home...we need a new car...we have a child to support. So I put the game back and head out. Whew! That was a close one! No Debtor's Prison for me! Lucas will be able to go to college! We won't have to sell Mick to the Vivisection Lab!

The Yang to The Foul Chicken/ No Depth Perception Yin

2005-03-14T15:08:00.000-08:00

Effective next Monday, I'm no longer a Contract Recruiter. I'll be a Full Time Regular Employee. Thus - paid time off, and a nice increase in our monthly income because we no longer have to pay for ex-fucking-spensive insurance.

YERP!!!!!!!! (New joyful interjection, copyright 2005 by Jason S. Avant.)

My Fear Factor Lunch

2005-03-14T12:41:00.000-08:00

Petit Bistro, University Towne Center. Ordered the "Bistro Chicken Caesar Salad". This is a caesar salad with a mound of teriyaki chicken on top. Correction. It's a room-temperature caesar salad with a mound of fatty lukewarm pieces of cut-up chicken thigh, drowned in teriyaki sauce. Addendum: Poorly cut-up pieces of chicken thigh, the indicator being the wet CRRRRRUNCH resulting from biting into several pieces of chicken thigh that still had bits of joint cartilege attached.

It is Monday, and I Am Wearing Glasses

2005-03-14T11:00:00.000-08:00

My left contact is encrusted with fossilized eyesnot. Thus I am wearing my glasses today. Plus side: I can now see out of my left eye. Minus side: I have no depth perception. My apologies to the mountain biker I ran over on the drive to work. Put some Bactine on that leg; it'll be fine.

Dry Land Practice

2005-03-13T18:46:00.000-08:00

We went to the Shores today for a picnic with our friends Barb and Brian. No surf to speak of, but clearly the surfing gene runs strong in my family.

2005-03-13T18:45:00.000-08:00

Nature or nurture?

The Surf Report for Saturday, March 12

2005-03-12T09:40:00.000-08:00

No bad days. Even though conditions were poor - low tide, 2-3 foot closeouts, and the usual crowd at the Shores - it was great to finally paddle out. Spent most of my time sitting on the board, waiting for sets that never came. Waves caught: two (no picturesque descriptions of my rides - there's not a lot of verbage that be squeezed from the 30 or so seconds I actually spent surfing). Moment of the morning: witnessing a near collision between a 10 foot longboard and a stupid lady who thought that swimming - no, BACKSTROKING - amongst 60 odd surfers would be a good idea. Water Safety Tip for you beach novices - getting hit in the head with a large fiberglass torpedo is never fun.

2005-03-12T09:38:00.000-08:00

La Jolla Shores - good from far...

2005-03-12T09:37:00.000-08:00

...far from good.

2005-03-11T12:57:00.000-08:00

Major heart attack on the drive home yesterday that I failed to mention. The Blackberry told me I had an email; I was at a red light so I took a glance. Email was from my boss. Subject line: Blogging. JesusharoldchristIamsototallyfired, I thought.

Nope. My boss had read an article about recruiters setting up recruiting blogs on their company websites; I had read the same article and discussing that with her was on my "to do" list. Her email was about that article, and if I thought that would be a good idea for my company. Sent her a reply today that yes, it's a branding concept that a number of companies are putting into play and that I'd be interested in doing it. (Listen to me. Branding concept. That's rich.)

I'm actually excited about the weekend. No rain. No plans. Only one thing on my mind.

Surfing.

I am waking my ass up and doing the Dawn Patrol. Visions of peeling lefts and morning glass and the dorsal fins of distant dolphins dance in my head.

Dog.

Will.

Hunt.

I Am Confident Enough In My Manhood To Freely Admit The Following...

2005-03-11T08:23:00.000-08:00

Last night, I watched the "Star Wars: Episode III" trailer. Then I rewound it and watched it again. Then I watched it one more time. Then I told my dog that the movie looks like it's going to kick ass.

Connections

2005-03-10T14:18:00.000-08:00

FINALLY! Been trying to post and comment all day. Oh well. You get what you pay for. I'm a bit surprised at how bummed I was that Blogger was on the fritz. I mean - what the hell am I supposed to DO all day? Work?

An unexpected bonus of blogging: getting to learn about and chat with people from all points on the map. I get to experience Chris', aka Rude Cactus, sheer joy at seeing Lima Bean's image on a sonogram and the rush ofemotion that comes when you realize that the picture is your little daughter. (Go read his post from yesterday, and bring a Kleenex; I'm a crass punk, and even I got a little veklempt). I get to live vicariously through Whiffleboy, Surfsister and Beachgirl; people who I'd love to meet in the lineup some day (not to worry, guys: I won't become another buoy at Sunset, but if you're ever up for a surf trip to San Diego let me know). I find out that Hib-Gib and I have had similar adventures in the High Desert and share an abiding love for the glory that is Lynda Carter. I get to keep it real with Stacy and Libby, who remind me of all the things I love about Beth, and who therefore are married to very lucky guys indeed.

It's a cool place, this virtual neighborhood, inhabited by people who are a pleasure to know.

LUCAS MELTDOWN UPDATE: Tooth Number Six poked through. Mystery solved. Absolute Pleasure In Life #6: Lucas waking up laughing in the morning.

Goddammit, I am now an Amazing Race Fan

2005-03-09T13:16:00.000-08:00

The LAST thing I need in my life is a new TV show. I was happy. Fulfilled, even. I had my TV Oasis - Lost, Alias, Smallville, The West Wing - and now Deadwood is back. I DON'T EVEN LIKE REALITY SHOWS. Survivor: Palau sucks ass. Literally. I watch it, and ten minutes into an ep all I want to do is drop trou and press my ass against the screen. I think even Jeff Probst agress with me at this point. I keep waiting for him to gather everyone in both tribes together at Council and say "Immunity - NOT up for grabs. For any of you. You all can suck my ass." Then he pours gasoline on all of them and hits them all with a lit torch.

Deep breath. Anyhoo. The Amazing Race. I like it. Maybe it's because they go to some cool places that I'd love to see but sadly never will. Maybe it's because it's always fun to watch Americans reinforcing foreign opinion that we're all a bunch of uncultured jackasses. Maybe it's because Survivor All-Stars Boston Rob and AMBUH (She With The Smokin' Ass) were stunt-cast and thus far are the dominant force in the Race. Anyway, the show rocks. People, what are your thoughts? Are you watching? Are you all about B-Rob and AMBUH? Are you now fired up to go visit Peru and chew on coca leaves? Give me your thoughts.

2005-03-09T12:33:00.000-08:00

The Coronado Bay Bridge. Pretty cool. I stole the pic.

Meltdown

2005-03-09T09:52:00.000-08:00

This is what happened: last night, Beth had a doctor's appointment at 6:00. So it was me and Lucas. Nothing to do except feed him and wait for Beth to get home. Piece of cake.

It started with his new trick. His shriek. He's in his high chair, sitting behind a pile of his mixed veggies (he loves them, especially the lima beans. We count our blessings.), and the shriek begins. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I give him a sippy cup with milk. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I give him a sippy cup with water. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I pick out a couple of lima beans and offer those up. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Then the Hysterical Crying starts in earnest. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I pick him up. I being my Mantra: "Shhh. It's OK. Shhhh. It's OK. Shhh. It's OK". Mick is pacing around nervously which does not help; I order him out outside and he gratefully complies. I take Lucas back to his room to check his diaper. Clear. Hysterical Crying continues. I check my watch. 6:10. Flailing Madly is now accompanying Hysterical Crying. Mantra continues. Sweat beads on my forehead. I put him back in the high chair. He kicks the Hysterical Crying up a notch. I am now heating up his dinner (Turkey Stew, which he loves). It's the Longest Thirty Seconds Of My Life. Finally, the Turkey Stew is done. I dash over to the high chair and start feeding him.

This does the trick. Calm returns.

Lucas has had a bit of a cold, and is out of sorts. Poor little guy. You feel so bad for them when they are that upset, and they can't tell you why. Good thing there's Turkey Stew and a post-dinner game of Bounce The Ball to make the world right again.

Why We Need New Surfboards, and What We Will Do To Get Them

2005-03-08T10:25:00.000-08:00

It's always a bad, bad thing when I find a new local shaper who doesn't charge $1000 or more for a custom longboard. It gets the wheels turning, as it did yesterday when I took a look at Ody's website (linked on The Surf and The Fury). Ody makes boards out of his shop in Cardiff, just up the road from where we live.

Now, the non-surfers, even those close to us (friends, relatives, spouses, significant others), always ask the same question. "You already HAVE a surfboard. Why do you want another one?"

It's actually not a matter of "want"; it's a matter of "need". Our sport's playing field is an inconsistant one. Wave size and power, of course, varies from day to day, and from season to season. My board, for example, is perfect for chest-high to overhead surf; a performance longboard, it's got a narrow tail, a bit more rocker (curvier, for the layperson), and side fins for added speed and manueverability. It's great for the bigger, heavier days of winter. When summer rolls around, though, and the waves get smaller, my board is more often a source of frustration. In short, I need a longer, flatter ride. Ideally, a 9'6" singlefin.

So I tested the waters yesterday. I mae an IM comment to Beth about the cheap shaper. Her response - if she has a "great" b-day, a new board may be on the bargaining table. So I asked the question that surfing husbands around the world ask in the hopes of achieving surfboard reciprocity.

"How many carats?"

2005-03-07T14:56:00.000-08:00

I need a haircut. Lucas has cake on his lips. Still, we are a couple of pimps.

Cruel Experiments Performed on Young Children

2005-03-07T08:44:00.000-08:00

Me: "I'm going to make a scary face at Lucas to see if he'll cry."

Beth: "Jesus."

Me: "GRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA!" (Accompanied by scary face.)

Lucas: "Heh heh heh!" (Continues feeding vegetables to dog.)

2005-03-05T07:52:00.000-08:00

Sleepin' in. (Pic taken with the new toy, a Nikon Coolpix 4600. Sweet!)

I Almost Forgot This...

2005-03-04T14:52:00.000-08:00

I have a Funny Work Story! I don't think I've told one yet! Friday Bonus for you!

Think I may have mentioned that I work out of two different offices. One is about 5 miles from our place, up the hill in the middle of the Torrey Pines State Reserve. Nice, huh. I'm there on Monday, Weds., and Fri. The other is down in Mission Valley (no link - imagine a 15 mile long strip mall with a freeway running through it); I'm there on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Anyway, on Tuesday, as I'm walking out the door, I pass by a guy's office, his door is wide open, his desk faces the outer wall and he's sitting with his back to me, and I notice two things. One, he's wearing a yarmulke (for you goys and shiksas out there, it's the little beanie/skullcap that Jewish guys wear on occasion). Two, he's looking at porn on his computer. Quite the dichotomy.

Enjoy the weekend.

100 Things

2005-03-04T10:07:00.000-08:00

A time-honored tradition. Here are 100 things about me:

I wear size 11 shoes.
I sat in the front row at Journey’s last concert (the original lineup, that is; not the Steve Perry-less version that exists today).
I stood in the front row at the Foo Fighters’ first concert, to atone for #2.
I’ve been pecked in the leg by an irate emperor penguin.
My ’94 Ford Ranger has, as of this writing, 90,020 miles on it and still runs well despite never having any scheduled maintenance.
I can play the bass guitar and the saxophone.
I’ve had a goatee, and currently have a soul patch.
I’ve also had a mullet and a perm.
I saw the original “Star Wars” 13 times at various movie theaters.
My wife was two years old when the original “Star Wars” made its first appearance on the big screen; I was 16. Just kidding. I was 8.
As I type this, I’m listening to “Wearing and Tearing” by the Mighty Led Zeppelin.
I went to high school in Anchorage, Alaska.
I was the editor and humor columnist for my high school newspaper.
I was a frat boy in college.
My fraternity nickname was “Scooby”.
During the college years, I woke up the morning after passing out in the following places: on the roof of my fraternity house (not usual), the hood of my car (interesting), the middle of the old Aztec Bowl’s athletic field (SDSU alums will say “Huh. That’s pretty impressive.”)
I’ve spent a day hanging out with the following people: Michelle Pfeifer, Wolfgang Puck, Howie Mandel, Dennis Quaid; Harvey Weinstein.
I have two tattoos.
I ride a 9’2” custom-made Craig Hollingsworth performance longboard with a three fin-box set up.
I’m a certified scuba diver.
I’ve bribed a Mexican cop.
I went to San Diego State and got my degree in Political Science, emphasis in International Relations.
Immediately after that I worked at SeaWorld for 7 years, teaching people about marine life.
I met Beth there; in fact, I was her boss.
I know at least one amazing animal fact that you don’t. Example: a male walrus is the only mammal that has a bone in its penis.
I was a contestant on “Jeopardy”. Yes, the real “Jeopardy”. With Alex Trebek.
I’ve eaten the following animals: moose, caribou, brown bear, alligator, wild boar, rabbit.
I completed a solo backpacking trip around the entire rim of Yosemite Valley. (None of the aforementioned animals were consumed on that trip.)
The sight of small primates (lemurs excluded) fills me with fear and revulsion.
The greatest beer in the world: Dixie Blackened Voodoo.
The greatest food in the world: cioppino.
The greatest place to get the greatest food in the world: The Cannery Restaurant, Marina Del Rey.
My Starbucks usual: a grande non-fat no-whip vanilla mocha.
Skied and snowboarded; pretty well, I might add. Snowboarding is infinitely more fun.
I have lived within walking distance of the Pacific Ocean since 1992.
I once wanted to pursue a career in journalism.
Then I went to college and changed my mind and wanted to pursue a career as a political consultant.
Then I interned for a campaign and saw what careers in politics do to otherwise nice, normal human beings.
Then I decided that the whole “work/career” thing was overrated.
I’ve been emotionally crushed by two “girlfriends” in the pre-Beth days. Happy to say that both of them have, based on reports from mutual acquaintances, been visited by my buddy, Bad Karma.
I once broke up with a girl because she wanted to sit on my lap at an SDSU football game.
Speaking of games, Beth was a contestant on the New Dating Game.
I want to buy a boat, a 36 foot motor cruiser that sleeps four, to be exact.
Even though I’m prone to seasickness.
I’ve been in a shark cage, nose to nose with an 8 foot long blue shark.
I’ve gotten to swim with dolphins on a couple of occasions.
I’ve gone rock climbing and slept under the stars during a visible lunar eclipse in Joshua Tree National Park.
I’ve driven across both the United States and Canada.
I’ve experienced both earthquakes and tornados.
Damn, I’ve done some pretty cool shit, haven’t I?
I’ve been to six Phish concerts.
I’ve read “Gravity’s Rainbow”.
I own an authentic, game-worn U.S. Eagles rugby jersey.
The color of my Nissan Xterra is Smurf Blue. That is the official name given to it by Nissan, not a product of my creativity.
The other two names we were thinking about for Lucas: Logan and Griffin.
Before I had a kid, I wanted to buy a Harley.
Now that I have a kid, I want a Nissan Quest.
I’m actually a pretty damn good cook.
In fact, I make the best chili I’ve ever eaten. The secret: chipotle peppers and a whole pot roast.
A moose once bit my sister.
I tend to reference semi-obscure movie lines (see #60).
My dog, Mick, is named after a George Clinton song, not after Mick Jagger.
Think about it for a second; you’ll figure out which song I’m referring to.
I am comfortable going to the movies and to nice restaurants by myself.
Now I’m listening to “Ball and Biscuit” by the White Stripes.
I have a really, really good idea for a novel, but I’m too busy/lazy to start writing it.
My dad is a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel.
“Red Meat” is the funniest comic strip out there.
The Onion stopped being funny last year.
The Ten Commandments is the worst movie ever made.
I’ve taken a fencing class.
I’ve taken a karate class.
I could be a ninja!
I’ve run the La Jolla Half Marathon twice.
So, technically, I’ve run a marathon, pausing to rest for a year.
I’m comprised of the following: French, Irish, Russian, Catholic, Jewish.
I own an Xbox but spend less than two hours a week playing it.
I believe that Martha Stewart got off easy.
I believe that Barry Bonds is a liar and a cheat who should be stripped of his records.
I believe that Kobe was innocent. And that he’s a self-centered dirtbag.
I believe that if a sitcom features a fat guy married to a hot woman, it will suck.
It’s taken me three days to complete this list.
Bugs Bunny – hilarious. Tweety – should be a steaming pile in Sylvester’s litterbox.
I, for one, can’t fucking stand “Raymond”.
Travel goals: Spain, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa.
Favorite rock album: “Being There”, by Wilco
Song that I could not get out of my head this morning: 80’s arena-rock classic “On The Loose”, by one-hit wonder band Saga.
Best song to have in your head during a great surf session: “Soul Sacrifice”, live Woodstock version, by Santana.
Song that’s now stuck in my head: “Soul Sacrifice”, live Woodstock version, by Santana.
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 185
Sign: Gemini
Callsign: Viper
Cosine: don’t ask me. I got a C in high school algebra and did not take a single math class in college.
Dream job: writing for Surfer magazine.
Things I hope to accomplish this year: buy a house, buy a new car, start my novel, surf more, improve my daddy and husbanding skills.
Things I hope to have under my belt in five years: a career change, financial independence, a return trip to Alaska, at least one of the countries on my travel list, that boat, another kid.
Things I hope to have under my belt in ten years: Beth and I living in a beach house on some island somewhere, the kids speaking fluent Polynesian.
What I’d like done with my remains after I die: Please dress me up in a Superman outfit, and throw my body off the roof of a downtown skyscraper. I would pass into urban legend…
SPOILER: Rosebud was Kane's sled.

Any questions?

I Declare Thursday to be "Lost Talkback Day"

2005-03-03T14:49:00.000-08:00

I made one of my rare "I Am The Man of The House - So Let It Be Written, So Let It Be Done" IM statements to Beth a few minutes ago; that we WILL buy the "Lost: Season 1" DVD set when it is released this summer, because I'm obsessed with the show and realize that the show's devil is literally in the details.

Example: Locke worked for one of Hurley's companies. Coincidence? And don't get me started with the lottery numbers. (Add 'em, but leave out the last one, 42. You'll get 66. Then add 4+2. 6. Then put 'em together. 66.6. 666.)

People, gimme your thoughts on the Best. Show. Ever.

I'M RICH!!!!!!!!!!

2005-03-03T14:05:00.000-08:00

Holy shit! Read this email I got today!

"C.B.N CONTRACT PAYMENT
ATTN: CONTRACTOR
CONTRACT #:MAV/NNPC/FGN/MIN/009,
Swift Code:BPH KPL PK,
A/C#: 3000-4407-711237

Direct line: 234-1-4343729
Fax line :234-1-7598550
Email: cbn@echina.com

IMMEDIATE CONTRACT PAYMENT

I apologize on behalf of the federal government of Nigeria
the senate committee on contract and foreign debt
reconciliation and payment for not releasing your overdue
contract funds.

From the records of outstanding contractors due for payment
with the federal government of Nigeria your name and
company was discovered as next on the list of the
outstanding contractors who have not received their
payments.

I wish to inform you that your payment is being processed
and will be released to you as soon as you respond to this
letter. Also note that from my record in my file your
outstanding contract payment is us $45.5 million dollars
(fourty five million five hundred thousand united states
dollars). Please re-confirm to me if this is inline with
what
you have in your record and also re-confirm to me the
followings

1) Your Full Name.
2) Phone, Fax And Mobile #.
3) Company Name, Position And Address.
4) Profession, Age And Marital Status.
5) Copy Of Int?l Passport.

As soon as this information?s are received, your payment
will be made to you in a certified bank draft or wired to
your bank account directly from central bank of Nigeria and
a copy will be given to you for you to take to your bank
and confirm it. You must call me on my direct number as
soon as you receive this letter For a serious discussion
with me and also get back to me on this
EmaiL:cbn@echina.com

Regards,
PROF CHARLES SOLUDO.
Executive Governor,
Central Bank Of Nigeria."

Ya know, I don't recall working on a $45.5 million contract for Nigeria, but why would PROF CHARLE SOLUDO lie? After all, he's the Executive Governer of the Central Bank of Nigeria!

Birthday

2005-03-02T09:48:00.000-08:00

Today is Lucas' birthday! One year old! He survived a whole year (FUCK YOU AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON, KAWASAKI DISEASE! MY KID KICKED YOUR ASS!) So did we! Holy crap!

Bittersweet thought: he's no longer a baby. He's now a toddler. A little boy.

Happy thought: By my estimate, he's one-fifth of the way to getting on a surfboard!

Conundrum

2005-03-01T09:26:00.000-08:00

March 1 is a significant day. It's the day that, according to the chats I had with my predecessor (the guy who recruited me) and my boss, I was supposed to convert to a full-time regular employee, with all the benefits that go along with it. (The job as offered was a contract-to-hire position).

Well, guess what didn't happen.

The old saying, "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me", certainly applies here. This is EXACTLY why I left General Atomics. This is EXACTLY why I'm now looking at Monster, CareerBuilder, et. al. THIS IS EXACTLY WHY CORPORATE AMERICA CAN KISS MY LILY WHITE ASS.

The thing is, if I left right now, my boss would be screwed. We have 80 open positions, for starters. It took me two months to get up to speed, learn the procedures and paperwork, get to know the hiring managers, all the stuff that goes along with this job. Furthermore, another one of our 4 person HR team is sick of her job and is planning on leaving any day now; she's an HR administrator, meaning that she handles ALL of one of the division's paperwork - benefits, Worker's Comp, offer letters, resignations, everything. She's been in her position for 6 years. That makes her tough to replace.

So I have a considerable amount of leverage. Question is, what do I with it? If I go in demanding that I be converted to full-time or I'm going to "start looking", all she has to do is give me the boot. If I don't say anything, or pussyfoot around, I'm stuck in limbo for God knows how long.

THIS is why I need to get off my ass, write my novel, get it published, and become hugely successful.

If Movie Critics' Oscar Hype Were To Be Applied To My Work Day

2005-02-28T16:09:00.000-08:00

"Jason's day at work with a head cold is the hip, cool, roller coaster ride of the spring - one that should not be overlooked by the Academy." - Peter Travers, Rolling Stone

"Jason may not be able to smell - but I smell OSCAR!" - Gene Shalit, The Today Show

"Mr. Avant's darkly humorous portrayal of a mid-level HR professional stricken with a sinus infection reminds the audience of such classic experimental European films as Truffaut's Les Comps du Vichyssoise Banal and Werner Herzog's Mein Gott, Wo Is Der Kenufenhoesgenstermietegnessenwalt, with a hint of the unique brilliance of the great Don Knotts. " - James Lipton, Inside The Actor's Studio

"That Mr. Avant was able to make through the day while suffering from a massive head cold is a triumphant reassertion of the human spirit! Thumbs way, way up." - Roger Ebert, At The Movies

"A sad foray into self-pity, made the more unbearable by cheap remarks about Sean Penn. Thumbs down." - Richard Roeper, At The Movies

Weekend Update

2005-02-28T08:45:00.000-08:00

A busy one. Saturday was Lucas' birthday party (his actual birthday is this Wednesday, so I have a couple more days before it hits me that OHMYGODHESONEWHEREDIDTHETIMEGO????); as you can tell by the picture below, it was met with mixed reactions. Who can blame him? A bunch of people show up, bring a bunch of new stuff, pick him up, get in his face, pass him around like a rugby ball (literally - our house was packed to the rafters with friends, grandparents, other babies; it was very scrum-like), make him wear funny hats...the Scarring For Life has begun. After the intital bout of sensory overload, he settled into the groove and had a good time.

Sunday was spent cleaning up. We went to Kelly and Ian's for Oscar Night; pizza and champagne was served, as is the Circle's tradition. Tivo enabled us to delay the start, meaning that we got to skip the commericals, the acceptance speeches for Best Short Film, Animated and Best Art Direction, and Beyonce's 20-odd musical numbers. Chris Rock did well; his opening bit was hilarious (I'll take this opportunity to address one of my readers directly. Sean Penn, please do us all a favor. The next time you feel like imposing your sense of drunken self-importance upon the rest of us, I want you to take a deep breath, pause, and say the following two words: "Shanghai Surprise".) and hopefully we'll never have to sit through the likes of Billy Crystal or Whoopi Goldberg again. I was emotionally detatched from the whole thing; the only nominated movie I saw was "The Incredibles". At least I got a bit of my Kate Winslet Fix. I loves me some Kate Winslet.

The bummer was that I was sick the whole weekend; weather changes caused my sinuses to inflate to the size of Hummer tires, and as of today I'm not feeling any better. In fact - I now have a sore throat! Huzzah! I'm seriously considering checking out early today.

2005-02-28T08:01:00.000-08:00

Happy f-ing b-day.

Cruise Control

2005-02-25T14:53:00.000-08:00

I've.

Done.

Nothing.

All.

Day.

No, scratch that. I ate two slices of cold pizza and chased them with a mug of Trader Joe's Instant Miso Soup.

Had a major scare. Time Warner cable, my provider, has dropped Fox Sports World. "Egads!" says I upon discovering this. "Does this mean NO MORE RUGBY?" Did my research and discovered yes, there will be rugby, only it'll be on something called the Fox Soccer Channel (no, I'm not kidding). And for the time being licensing problems mean that matches (like this weekend's Super 12 kickoff) will be subject to a two day delay. That eats - Lucas and I used to watch the matches on Saturday mornings. Oh well. We sit have our DVR'ed "Battlestar Galactica" time.

Daddy Bliss

2005-02-25T08:12:00.000-08:00

I'll start by telling you how friggin' tired I am. Ever have one of those nights when you just can't stop thinking about things? And thus can't sleep? Mine started at about 2:00 a.m., when the following thoughts being looping through my brain: Xterra is making a funny banging noise which we will have to fix, Boss is a moody control freak who may be pissed at me for something that got messed up yesterday (and she's one of those bosses where you constantly feel like ANY deviation from the way She Thinks Things Should Be could result in you packing up your desk), termites still inhabit the kitchen, there's another job in Virginia that looks promising but it's in Virginia. I'm kicking myself for not popping a couple of Benadryl. Good news: I finally fell asleep. Bad news: that happened at 6:00 a.m.

Ugh. Sometimes EVERYTHING is such a chore (not a "struggle"; people who are living on tsunami-decimated beaches in Southeast Asia are experiencing "struggle"). I try to counter that with optimism and humor, still the two best weapons against the entropy that Life often seems to be. (I'm also trying to curse less. And failing. Fucking miserably, I might add.)

So I was downright morose on the drive into work, and continued to be so until posting a comment on Rude Cactus this morning, when I suddenly remembered that an astounding moment happened last night.

I got a First Word from Lucas!

Well, sorta. The thing he loves above all else, even more than Mick, are balloons. He has two left over from Valentine's Day; red, heart-shaped mylar ones filled with helium. They're hanging a bit low, as aging helium balloons do, but he still digs 'em. We were sitting on the floor yesterday evening (Beth was still at work), Lucas was tugging on the balloon cords and giggling. I kept saying "Balloon. BaaaLOOOOON." Lucas then looked at me and said "BOOOOOOON". Then we both cracked up.

He didn't repeat it, even though I kept urging him to (Me: "BaLOOOOOOON." Lucas: "Heh heh heh!").

Yeah, it wasn't a full word, and it wasn't DADA, but still. To these ears, it was pure poetry. And my advice to you: if anyone gives you any shit today, you know what to say to them. "BOOOOOOOON!"

Thursday Coasting

2005-02-24T09:42:00.000-08:00

Sunshine, glorious sunshine. No rain for at least a couple of days, so they say. I'll give the ocean another day to clean itself up and paddle out early Saturday morning, before Beth and Lucas wake up. Big day Saturday; we're throwing the Walkin' Dude his first birthday party.

I got a message yesterday from another recruiter, looking to see if I'd be interested in openings with his company. I did some research on the company; they're a staffing agency. Never mind (or, in Jayspeak, "fuck that"). Giant leap backwards in my career? No thanks!

Turns out those flying bugs in the kitchen are termites. I spoke with our landlord and he says the building (we're connected to two other townhomes) has had 'em for years. Every so often they crawl out from the foundation and make their presence known. Which makes me glad we didn't spend $500k+ on one of these places. Sometimes renting has it's advantages.

Sorry I'm not more interesting today.

Hupdates

2005-02-23T15:01:00.000-08:00

Hump Day Updates (Hupdates):

Very cool - Chris, aka Rude Cactus, has added my humble site to his blogroll. Much Respek and Multiple Props go out to him. One of my favorite bloggers, Whiffleboy, has also put me on his roll at Confessions of a Novice Surfer; I live vicariously through him, as I'm WEAK and don't surf nearly as often as I should.

We had a fire drill earlier today. Which actually was nice, since we got to go outside and instead for pouring rain, the sky was an odd bluish color, and there was a big fiery ball overhead. We were frightened, and there was much grovelling, but then we pulled a virgin out of the crowd and sacrificed her, thus appeasing the big fiery ball.

It's The End of The World As We Know It, and I Feel Like Ass

2005-02-23T09:27:00.000-08:00

A recap of last night:

5:00. Arrive home after drive in the pouring rain. Lucas now has an Effective Walking Range of about 15 feet, roughly the length of our hallway. He is roaming around the house on two feet, pausing occasionally to fall on his ass, which doesn't phase him in the slightest. The Walkin' Dude.

5:30. The weather guy tells us that San Diego is under a Tornado Watch. WTF? Were we suddenly teleported to Trailer Town, Oklahoma? (Note: I can make Oklahoma jokes. I have that right. I lived there for three years.) The idea of tornados in San Diego is laughable. And yet...I crack open a couple of windows. When I lived in the Midwest we were told to do this during Tornado Watches. Something about equalizing the inside and outside air pressure. Prevents your house from exploding.

6:00. I AM BREAKING OUT IN HIVES. They are on my hips and thighs. This also happened the previous evening. I pop a couple of Benadryls. Hives? Are you kidding me?

8:00. I'm asleep on the couch. Ah, Benadryl.

8:30. Beth tells me to go to bed. I mumble something and obey.

12:00 a.m. Lucas is crying. One or both of us gets up and gives him a pacifier. He goes back to sleep.

1:30 a.m. BOOOOOOOOOM! Thunder. Lightning crashes. A new mother cries. Mick leaps on to the bed, scared shitless. Dog + storm = nervous wreck. He does this routine for about an hour: hops up onto bed (Thud. 55 pounds of dog.), breathes in our faces, hops down, paces around the room panting, repeat.

Let's see - did I forget anything. Oh! Wait! Right as we were sitting down to dinner we found a bunch of little winged bugs that we think are termites crawling out from under the fridge and roaming around the kitchen floor.

So, to recap: pestilence, floods, hives. Hmmm. Better mark the door with sheep's blood tonight. And I'm inviting Charleton Heston over for dinner, just to cover all the bases.

2005-02-22T12:46:00.000-08:00

My idea for Lucas' next Halloween costume - a homeless man.

Repugnance

2005-02-22T12:04:00.000-08:00

Many of you know that back in Tha Day, I spent a few years working for SeaWorld in the park's Education Department. As you can imagine, I got to do some pretty exciting things - swim with dolphins, work with stranded sea animals, and teach the public about the oceans and the critters that live there. One of my favorite "jobs" (hard to call it a job, since I would have done it for free - actually, considering what I got paid, I practically DID) was doing the Penguin Talk at the park's Penguin Encounter. The Encounter is a remarkable exhibit; six species of penguin, about 300 birds total, housed in a huge facility that simulated both the cold weather (the air temperature inside the enclosure hovers right at 25 degrees) and extreme daylight cycles of the Antarctic regions. During the presentation, I'd bundle up in cold weather gear, and with mic in hand go inside the exhibit and talk to the outside audience about these great birds. Penguins are pretty amazing; highly adapted to live in some of the most inhospitable places in the world, one of the few species left that hasn't been screwed up in some way by humans.

So I was pretty flippin' furious when I saw this.

My fervent hope is that these sick degenerates ("Penguins live in the jungle!") lose all of their money and end up in jail. My PSA for the day: PENGUINS ARE NOT NOR SHOULD EVER BE CONSIDERED HOUSEPETS. IF YOU WANT A BIRD, GET A FRIGGING PARAKEET.

Dude.

2005-02-22T09:31:00.000-08:00

Dude.

What.

Is.

Up.

With.

This.

Rain?

Excerpt from Scientific Journal

2005-02-21T10:07:00.000-08:00

Morning observation, 10:05 a.m.: when 30" tall child crawls into 24" inch cupboard and attempts to stand up, child's head (opposing force) meets with cupboard shelf (immovable object). Results: impact, crying.

Morning observation, 10:15 a.m.: Possible loss of memory in subject child, as he is attempting to crawl back into aforemetioned cupboard.

Subject Mick (male dog, approximate age 6) engaged in repeated pacing, pausing occasionally to stare at author, in an apparent attempt to communicate to me that I need to stop the rain.

Subject Beth (female human, age 29.85) on couch, watching "The View".

Walls continue to close in. Expect Satan to appear at any moment, welcoming me to the Seventh Level of Hell.

Deluge

2005-02-21T07:17:00.000-08:00

Holy crap, it's STILL RAINING. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH.
Let me tell you something: when Beth, Jay, Lucas, and Mick are confined to a two-bedroom condo for two straight days, nerves become frayed. Ever see that movie "Das Boot"? I feel like running around shrieking "ZE RIVETS ARE POPPING!!! ZE RIVETS ARE POPPING!" The walls are closing in.

I woke to the news that Hunter S. Thompson finally checked out, thanks to a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Sad, but the only surprise was that he lived as long as he did. He kept writing up until the end, and was doing the occasional column for ESPN.com, the last of which ran Friday. Way back in high school, when I was the editor/humor columnist for my school newspaper, my newspaper advisor gave me his dog-eared copy of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" for inspiration (yeah, kind of a questionable book to give an inpressionable senior, but there was no lasting damage).

So my day off will be spent in front of the TV and the computer. Hurry up, summer.

Strength

2005-02-20T06:47:00.000-08:00

If you've been following my adventures, you know that Lucas had Kawasaki Disease back in December (if you're new, read about it here); yesterday the International Kawasaki Disease Conference was held in San Diego. There was a parents' symposium, so Beth and I went to check it out.

It was interesting; lots of doctorspeak, but when your kid gets a rare disease that very little is known about, you suffer through the nomenclature. We're past the worry stage; long-term studies show that when caught and treated early, the vast majority of kids grow up to lead normal lives. One bit of advice given to us: make sure Lucas leads a healthy life. As the disease impacts the circulatory system, vessels and arteries can become a bit harder; that can be made worse by smoking, poor diet, lack of exercise, etc. Doctors who know Kawasaki Disease agree that sheltering your kid from sports and exercise is a bad idea. Frankly, I'm not sure we COULD keep Lucas from running around; given that he spends every waking minute hauling ass around our place,I'm surprised college football recruiters aren't stopping by already.

Afterwards, there was a Happy Hour(is that really the best name for a gathering of people whose kids have had a terrible disease?), and we made a couple of new friends. Steve and Dona Neves (yes, one "N" in "Dona") came to the conference from Abilene, Texas. Both are teachers there. They're a young couple, a few years younger than Beth and I. We spent time talking about our kids, and Kawasaki Disease, of course, but we also spent a lot of time chatting about San Diego, and Texas, and work, and other stuff that you talk to people about. They're thinking about moving out here, getting out of the small town Texas life.

Their son's name is Luke. He caught Kawasaki's back in December, but unlike Lucas he didn't get the treatment he needed. He was 14 weeks old when he died.

How do you go on after that?

Still More Interview Fun!

2005-02-18T15:00:00.000-08:00

Damn! I'm prolific today! Here's some questions directed at me from Libby, who has TWO good blogs.

"Okay, Jason, here are your questions:

1)If Beth became addicted to one daytime television show and you were forced to watch it with her every night. What would be the best possible show and what would be the worst? Keep in mind that Beth LOVES this show and will probably want to talk about it. EVERY DAY.

See, this is the kind of question I hate, because Beth is home on Mondays and Fridays and could very well use this info against me. But in the spirit of universal truth, I'll answer:

Best possible show: "Speed Racer" reruns on the Cartoon Network. Worst possible show: "The View". Pardon the involuntary shudder of revulsion.

2)How many children do you hope to have?

2, tops. That's a question that I find tough to answer, in that I wonder if it's possible to love another kid as much as I love my son.

3)What is the one piece of advice you would give Lucas today?

Today? Clumps of dog hair that you pick up off the floor are not snacks. As a general bit of advice when he's older - find the one thing that inspires you, whatever it may be, and let everything else come from that.

4)You’re in a hotel room in Las Vegas with a group of your closest guy friends, 5 strippers, and Beth’s ex-boyfriend; Beth is not there. You’ve all been drinking all day and for some absurd reason a game starts: The ex’s question to you: truth or dare? (and you HAVE to tell the truth or complete the dare)

Truth. The five strippers will probably have something to do with any dare, and I'm not going there.

5)In previous questions you said you’d do anything for love (except THAT, of course) but you said you wouldn’t convert to Catholicism for an awesome house. Would you convert for the love of a good woman?

An excellent question, and my answer would still be no. And it has nothing to do with Catholicism, or any -ism for that matter. Faith and spirituality, IMHO, must come from a person's own desire to establish a personal relationship with the Divine (God, Buddha, Allah, Odin, whoever). It has to be, in essence, a selfish act - your belief system is your own deeply rooted mechanism for interpreting and understanding the intangibles that life throws your way. Now, if during the course of my time spent with that good woman, I found that her beliefs were appealing, fit with my own beliefs, and helped me to enunciate my spirituality, then yes, I would. But to simply say, "I've met a great gal, I love her, she loves me, one problem - she's Catholic/Jewish/Muslim, so I'm gonna convert" does a disservice to her as well as oneself. It's a disservice to her, because (and I'm assuming this) she's spent her whole life establishing and building on her faith; it's an integral part of who she is, and for me to come along and say "Sign me up!" trivializes that. It's a disservice to me, for that same reason. I'm an agnostic, but for argument's sake let's say that I was a practicing Jew. That faith would have been a bedrock for 30+ years of my life; can I honestly say that I can turn my back on it?

So for those reasons, I say no. Of course, the other way to look at that question is this: if my gal loved me for who I was, she wouldn't ask me to convert. (It worked for my parents!) I wonder how much different the world would be if we celebrated each others' differences, instead of trying to change them.

Wow - heavy stuff for a Friday! Are you sure you don't have a surfing question for me?

Announcing the Pet Cobra Library

2005-02-18T14:54:00.000-08:00

As promised/threatened, here's my running list of what I'm reading, listening to, and watching. I'm going to play with it this weekend, and see if I can come up with a better way to link it, but this will have to suffice for now.

The Pre-Three Day Weekend Ritual

2005-02-18T09:51:00.000-08:00

Gonna be one of those Fridays; if there's a company in the world where people actually work on the day preceding a three-day weekend, please let me know so that I NEVER end up there. I made the colossal mistake of putting together a "to-do" list yesterday; all the tasks that I needed to complete before week's end are done, leaving me with plenty of time today to sit and languish. I'm torn: I hate being bored, and yet I hate working. I brought a book today. I'm thinking of adding additional stuff to the blog; I like bloggers who have recommended reading and music lists, so I'm planning on following suit, and I may spend some time (and your valuable tax dollars!) doing that today. You can learn volumes about a person based on who they read and listen to. And I'm a staunch evangelist when it comes to my favorites (stop whatever you're doing and go buy a Mason Jennings CD. NOW! And while you're out, pick up "True History of the Kelly Gang" by Peter Carey.)

And of course, we are being hit with yet another Major Storm. (STORMWATCH 2005!!!). Rain all weekend. Actually, rain through Wednesday. If I were still a snowboarder, I'd be happy. As a surfer (I still consider myself one, even though it's been WEEKS since I've paddled out), I am disgruntled.

Mas Interview

2005-02-18T09:08:00.000-08:00

This is from Jeana; her blog is http://tenthousandmiles.com/grace. Check it out; she's a good writer.

Jason... your turn!
1. What does the Hibbity Gibbity's circle of evil do--cause mayhem on our streets, cause mothers to worry for their babies, tp trees, or fork yards? Do tell. A Mug shot of the circle of evil would be appropriate here.

Worse. It causes people to...my hands shake as I write this...TEAR THE TAGS OFF OF THEIR MATTRESSES. The horror...the horror...and I've heard rumors that some people are (gasp) TAKING MORE THAN 6 ITEMS THROUGH THE EXPRESS CHECKOUT LANE.

2. How did the Hibbity Gibbity circle of evil form itself?

This interview meme is actually a ritual found in ancient Druidic texts. Mr. H-G has opened the gateway to the Seventh Level of Hell. Only Keanu Reeves can save us.

3. Have you ever been arrested?

Arrested? No. Committed? Let's just say that typing while wearing a straightjacket is difficult, but not impossible. And the voices help me come up with new material for my blog. Which is nice.

4. What kinds of concerns should I have living so close in proximity to the Hibbity Gibbity circle of evil?

Seeing as how you're in Kentucky, I'd be more concerned with what that nefarious, evil mastermind Colonel Sanders is plotting.

5. Does this circle of evil resemble any saturday cartoons? If so, which one? If not--make up a cartoon that would.

A cartoon? No. But there's a kids'show on PBS called "Boobah"; my one-year-old son loves it. It's insidously creepy.

Them Duke Boys Are Livin' Large!

2005-02-18T08:34:00.000-08:00

It's actually cool, in a twisted sort of way.

http://www.rebel-son.com/rebelsonmobile.htm

Profoundly Disturbing Blog of the Day...Perhaps Year

2005-02-17T14:19:00.000-08:00

Why do I get the feeling that this will end in bloody dogfighting tragedy?

My Wife Interviews Me

2005-02-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

I threw down the gauntlet to Beth. Here are her questions; my responses follow. Oh, and I surpassed the 1000 hit mark. Very cool - thanks to all for reading. A movie deal is in the works.

1) What is your favorite font?

Wingdings. I often use it for offer letters and other important documents.

2) If your Grandmother said that she would give us her house tomorrow free and clear and leave her entire estate to us if we convert to Catholicism and go to church with her every Sunday until she dies, would you do it?

As much as I'd love a house sitting on four acres of property within five minutes walking distance of the ocean, no. Three reasons: 1. I don't have any issues with Catholic people, but I do have a problem with an organization like the Catholic Church that goes to great lengths to maintain its POLITICAL power, uses that power to shelter priests who rape young kids, is directly responsible for the spread of venereal diseases and overpopulation in Third World countries, and promotes hatred of homosexuals. 2. Converting to a religion for financial gain is morally reprehensible; even if I don't believe in Catholicism or Christianity, I have friends and loved ones who do, and I would not disrespect them like that. 3. I've eaten a communion wafer, and they taste nasty.

3) What state do you smell like?

California. Especially on weekends.

4) Tapir or Octopus – and why?

Octopus. Tastes better than tapir.

5) What is the one thing that you would not do for love?

As you know, I would do anything for love, but I won't do THAT. (Can anyone tell me what the hell Meat Loaf is referring to in that song?) For me, "that" would be what the Japanese call a "hot plate". If you've never heard of this, look it up on www.urbandictionary.com.

Interview Redux

2005-02-16T14:51:00.000-08:00

As a reminder, the Interview Game is still on. Here are the questions I posed to Beth, and her answers:

1. How do you explain your skyrocketing popularity?

I flashed my boobs once… and my readers just keep coming back in hopes of seeing the girls again.

2. What is the stupidest pop song ever written, and when you answer this how will you keep that song from running an endless loop in your mind?

Does it have to be a pop song? I have this problem with TV Commercial jingles. I can’t remember the last time I actually ate a slice of pizza when the flippin’ bagel bites “Pizza in the morning, Pizza in the evening, Pizza at supper time (dah-da!) when Pizza’s on a Bagel – You can eat Pizza at any time!” running through my head. Now it’s going through my head! Egh. That was a trick question wasn’t it?! Damn you!

3. What is the worst possible name you could give a boy?

Hyman. And we could have – it was Jason’s Jewish Grandfather’s name. Yup.

4. Quien es mas macho - Chris Judd o Kevin Federline?

Ohhh… that’s a hard one..They both look hot in wife beaters, neither one of them could actually afford the ring that was their wives “engagement” rings, and I think both of them danced in Club Wed commercial for Target (And you know I have a thing for Target dancers)… But let’s see. I will have to go with Judd. Just because he didn’t leave his 7-month pregnant with his SECOND child girlfriend for J Lo. Plus, everyone knows that curvy, latina J Lo is WAY hotter than trailer park trash Brit.

5. When our kid drops out, becomes an acid freak and follows the remnants of the Grateful Dead around the country, how much money do you think we'll get when we sue the wackos who are responsible for "Boobah"?

Please, if this was really the case, our biggest problem would be you wanting to join Lucas in the stinky VW bus, boring all of Lucas’ friends with tales of the Phish concerts you went to in the 90’s.

Mad props (at what point in my life do I stop using the hip hop lingo?) to Stacy for being the latest player. She's now in the Bloggage section, and well worth a visit. Again, the rules:

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions
6. I will answer reasonable follow up questions if you leave a comment.

Technology Gone Horribly Wrong

2005-02-16T13:14:00.000-08:00

Don't believe the hype. Campbell's "Soup At Hand", hailed (by those who hail such things, namely the advertising folks at Campbell's) as the greatest thing to happen to soup since the spoon, is the Spruce Goose of the microwavable lunch world. Due to its pseudo-soda can container, dipping ancillary lunch items (i.e., bread, crackers, or in my case, the quesadilla that I packed) into the soup is not an option, unless you remove the plastic lid and pour it into a bowl, which begs the question: what's the goddamn point of soup-in-a-can?

Wednesday Quickie

2005-02-16T08:39:00.000-08:00

A couple of things: first, I did a "guest post" on Rude Cactus (click on the link in the Bloggage section). I'm whoring for additional readership; my post is the one that begins "Ah, Wednesday", so feel free to go to Rude Cactus, read it, and make a comment about how cool it would be to read my blog, etc. Second, I've apparently been forgiven for my Valentine's Day fuckup. Thanks to you all for not swamping my comments box with hate mail. More later.

2005-02-15T19:06:00.000-08:00

Very happy that Green Day won a Grammy.

A New Word to Add To Your Vocabulary

2005-02-15T08:21:00.000-08:00

When I come across a good new word, I like to spread the wealth and share it was as many people as possible. Now, today's word isn't really new, but it's worth some discussion. The word is shitheel.

Now, shitheel (pronounced SHIT-heel) is a perjorative, of course, but it's one that fits a certain type of person. For example, a shitheel is a guy who comes home from work on Valentine's Day and bitches to his wife about the house being a mess, his wife having rushed home from the grocery store after purchasing the stuff she needs to make him a nice Valentine's dinner, on the day when she's been working hard trying to care of the shitheel's son while planning a nice evening. Thus, the shitheel ruins another Valentine's Day. So the moral of the story is simple: regardless of the day you've had, or your perceived problems, don't be a shitheel. And no, my confession does not make me feel any better.

2005-02-14T10:38:00.000-08:00

Another weekend spent in L.A. Saturday night Beth and I did our Valentine's Day celebratin'; Lucas stayed with her folks while we went out for what we enivisioned to be a fun night of Eating and Carousing. We'd have dinner at a Cool L.A. Restaurant, then...perhaps we'd go to a bar! Or dancing! Or bowling! (Seriously - it's apparently the Hip Thing To Do In L.A.)

We ate a fantastic meal at Marrakesh, a Moroccan restaurant. Having no idea what to expect (I once made "chicken tagine" using a jar of Tangine Sauce purchased at Trader Joe's), we were a bit nervous. No menus - the waiter explained that four courses would be served; soup and a plate of variuos salads, bastilla (oh, bastilla! Pardon me - just drooled all over the keyboard), a main course, and dessert. For the main course, we opted for couscous served with vegetables; along with that, Beth got roasted lemon chicken, and I went native and ordered braised rabbit (yep, Bugs, Roger, Peter Cottontail. Any time I try a new foreign food, I order what your typical Yankee would consider the weirdest thing on the menu, and it invariably turns out to be amazing. If you've never eaten alligator, for example, you're missing out.)

I could devote an entire page to bastilla. Simply put, it's a pie, with a filo-type crust, filled with a mixture of ground chicken, almonds, egg, and dates, topped with cinnamon and sugar. Such flavor as to make a grown man weep (which I may just do, considering that my lunch today is a can of Stagg chili). I could also sing the praises of Moroccan braised rabbit; it doesn't really taste like chicken, more like dark turkey, but not as gamey.

So we ate like pigs, and the resulting food coma sent us back to Beth's parents early; no L.A. Hipster Night for us.

Sunday - uneventful. Monday - still in progress.

Friday afternoon! Rain! Boredom!

2005-02-11T14:37:00.000-08:00

The Interview Game is off and running, thanks to the mysterious Jenny. Don't shy, folks! Run towards the light!

With less than two hours to go before I drive home in the rain (always a white-knuckle experience here in San Diego, especially in a rear wheel drive pickup with a stick shift and bald tires), I'd like to point out the following:

Kevin Federline is a hero. The fact that he married Britney, even though he possesses all of the qualities of a Death Valley gas station attendant, is reason enough to applaud him. But here's what makes him a real winner. He has released the bottled up trailer park chick that we all knew was struggling to break free. He has shown us the True Nature of Britney. And when she shows up in the Vivid Video production of "Oops, I Did Britney Again" in a few years, as we all know she will, we'll have Kevin to thank. So hang in there, Kevin. A lot of guys are rooting for you. (I have no idea what prompted that.)

Ben Folds Five kicked ass. I was listening to their compilation of B-sides, rarities and live tracks entitled "Naked Baby Photos" earlier. Hands down, not even close, the best concert I've ever seen was their performance at UCSD back in 1997. I have a penchant for bands that feature honest-to-God pianos (Coldplay, Keane, and Phish chief among these), but nobody came close to the Five. They broke up a couple of years ago; Ben Folds does solo albums, which are o.k., but do yourselves a favor and seek out bona fide Ben Folds Five albums.

I may bail out at 4:00. I'm crazy like that.

Friday Morning Fun

2005-02-11T10:19:00.000-08:00

For shits and giggles (and to generate additional hits), I took part in a n old school "interview game" sponsored by Mr. Hibbity Gibbity (http://mrhibbitygibbity.blogspot.com). Here, is his words, is The Deal:

"Ok, so apparently either "blogging" isn't en vogue and I missed the memo, or all the authors of the blogs that I visit have died in some freakish, blog-related incident, because most haven't updated in over a week.I need my fix people. I'm suffering serious withdraw here. Don't hold back your wit, sarcasm and/or narcissistic tendencies. It's those brief glimpses into your minds that helps get me through the day.*sigh*Now I'm forced to dust off a relic of blogdom - the interview game.

Official Rules for the Interview Game
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions
6. I will answer reasonable follow up questions if you leave a comment.

Of course, this is all dependent on people actually asking to be interviewed . . .Don't make me interview myself! It won't be pretty!"

Following are his questions. My answers are in italics.

1. Who are you? Read every entry in this blog, divide by 9, stand on your head while drinking a Guiness, and you'll have a pretty good idea.

2. Are you a native of San Diego or are you a visitor? Neither. I've lived here since 1987, which technically does not classify me as a "native".

3. Did you know that San Diego is German for "whale vagina"? That's actually a common misconception. "San Diego" is Portugese for "Land of Great Beaches, Hot Women, and Excellent Mexican Food, and If You're From Arizona, Please Do Us A Favor And Stay The Fuck In Phoenix Where Miscreants Like You Belong".

4. Which do you prefer: a shrubbery or a hamster? Why? A shrubbery. It's much less likely to have spent time in Richard Gere's ass.

5. Three parter . . . if you were offered a chance to play "old school" rugby, would you? If yes, whose head would you choose to sever and play with? Why? Yes, but you have rugby confused with other "old school" games that used human heads. These included polo, lacrosse, and four square (whose "human head" phase was notably short, as it was very unpopular with easily frightened sixth-graders. Plus skulls don't bounce very well.) If I were to play rugby with a human head, it would have to be Oprah Winfrey's; her melon has somewhat of an oval shape, and she really really bothers me.

So if you'd like the chance to jump on the bandwagon, ask me for an interview. Same rules apply.

I'll back in a bit with more.

Gravitas

2005-02-10T13:15:00.000-08:00

An epochal moment last night. We were eating dinner at our favorite Greek place. I offered Lucas a small grape tomato (looks like a grape, but is a tomato. Hence the name. Some people have never heard of them. They exist. And if you like tomatoes, they are manna from Heaven. I like tomatoes. More on that in a second.) and he ate it. And loved. And ate the second one I gave him.

This was a profound moment. For, as mentioned, I fucking love tomatoes. I will slice 'em up and eat 'em straight up, no chaser.

Beth hates them, despises them with the white-hot intensity of a collapsing star.

So now there are TWO tomato lovers in the house. And our will shall be imposed!

Other momentous things: Alex Garland, who wrote the excellent novel "The Beach" (subsequently made into a shitty Leo DiCaprio movie - say, do I even need to put "shitty" in front of the phrase "Leo DiCaprio movie"? Is it not axiomatic?) and the excellent movie "28 Days Later" (worst title for a great horror flick ever - people who aren't hip to it think it's the Sandra Buttock-in-rehab "comedy") has been tagged to write the screenplay for the "Halo" movie, based on the videogame that punts ass 50 yards into the wind. And we visited the rabbi today. She was our age. I liked her. So we'll see how it goes.

And it started raining today, and the rain will be with us all weekend. We are going to L.A.; Beth and I will be going out Saturday night to celebrate Valentine's Day early (and I will feast on tomatoes!). The big USA Sevens rugby tourney is taking place in L.A. this weekend. Unfortunately, I won't be going - not a big fan of sitting out in the rain for anything, and the cheapest tickets are $35 each. Which is ridiculous, and will NOT help USA Rugby achieve its goal of bringing the sport to the unwashed masses. Yes, the expats will pay that and more to see their teams. But those new to the sport won't (even those curious about what type of game can prompt a man to cut off his own balls). Simple as that. Attendance will be poor, and this may be the tournament's swan song.

Wither Thou, Billy Corgan?

2005-02-09T13:31:00.000-08:00

I'm inspired to drop another post. I'm listening (not quite "rockin' out to", as being in the office and the small speakers tasked to the job preclude that) to Smashing Pumpkins' pretentious, bombastic, too-long and totally fucking awesome "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness". Worth the price of admission for the trifecta of "Galapogos", "Muzzle", and "Porcelina of the Vast Oceans" (what a song title! Remember that prog-rock band Yes? Billy Corgan sure does!). Billy, what the hell happened to you? You shaved your head and jumped the shark and did the theme song to that horrible Batman movie with George Clooney. Come back to us, Billy. America needs you now more than ever.

Adventures in the Corporate World, or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Interoffice Politics

2005-02-09T13:07:00.000-08:00

The machine chugs on. I've made close to ten hires over the past two weeks, and am close (so close I can SMELL it) to filling the elusive Technical Director position that's been haunting me since the holidays.

Working for a recruiting agency has its advantages. It's all about the bottom line. You fill positions, you get paid, and the questions are few and far between. Do your job well and everything else falls into place. I was a star at my last agency. Worked hard, kept the clients happy, which kept the boss happy. (I maintain a good relationship with Ed, my old boss; we've gone surfing a couple of times since I left; he has a new daughter, but once he's settled into the groove I'm sure we'll paddle out again.)

On the corporate side, there's a whole new paradigm to deal with. Up until this morning, I was quite convinced that our HR administrator hated me (you know the type - when something isn't done correctly, something as miniscule as a typo, she feels the need to CC everyone and let them know. My boss, the managers I work with, the division VP, the CEO, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Donald Rumsfeld, EVERYONE.) and being the new guy was constantly walking on eggshells around her. So she comes into my office today, shuts the door, and says "We need to talk". Great. Fuck.

Turns out that she can't stand my boss, and is planning on quitting, and wants my help to either find a new position within the company or something outside. She's worked for my boss for six years and has finally grown tired of being treated like a "whipping boy". It suddenly dawned on me that everytime she did the CC-the-world-about-Jay's-mistakes, she was engaged in the time honored practice of CYA - cover yo' ass. And I suddenly felt really bad for her -she's in her mid-fifties, single, with a daughter in college, and she's been dealing with this for six years.

Now, since it's always all about me, I'll say this - I have a decent, but not great, relationship with my boss. I'm friendly, and if co-workers ask me about myself, wife, kid, hobbies, etc. , I'm more than happy to chat about them on a very superficial level. But I'm not a social butterfly at work. And I'm not an asskisser (shocking!). I wonder how anyone could play that game with the same person - who by all accounts treated you like shit - for six years and not jump out the friggin' window. Needless to say, I'm more than a bit concerned.

But I'm always thinking, always putting out the feelers. To that end, I did a little Goggling and found the email address of an old friend of mine. Back in the SDSU days, I spent a year as a Resident Advisor (yes, I provided advice and guidance to young impressionable freshmen. I, who earned my fraternity nickname for passing out headfirst in a toilet filled with my own vomit.) and worked for a great Hall Advisor. I found out that Allan is now the Associate Director for Student Development at UNC. So I sent him an email yesterday asking how he was, and seeking advice on working in the college recruitment area. He sent a gracious reply with lots of helpful info. It might be nice to get out of the corporate world and work for a university. I could go to toga parties.

Why I Loves Me The Rugby

2005-02-08T19:25:00.000-08:00

Words do not suffice. Further proof that only rugby, The Greatest Sport In The History of The Universe, can inspire such support. Go Dragons!

http://edition.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/europe/02/07/WalesTesticles.reut/index.html

The Sleep Factor

2005-02-08T13:49:00.000-08:00

Last night we went to bed at 8 friggin' thirty. No "24", no "Las Vegas". Mondays seem to be kicking my ass lately. So much so that I scrapped plans to go work out after work and just came home and collapsed on the couch. No energy.

In fact, I've turned into a regular couch potato. All the benefits that came with the running and working out during the Rugby Phase are rapidly fading. It's really fucking depressing, in fact. I think I've gained back ten of the 20 pounds I lost prior to December. It's really easy to fall back into bad habits. Oh, well. Run, work out, surf. Problem solved. Next up: what to do about our need for a new home entertainment system, a new car, buying a house, getting Lucas into a good preschool, and solving the Israeli-Palestinian problem.

Regarding that chili...

2005-02-07T13:40:00.000-08:00

I've logged four separate treks to the shitter this morning. Yesterday I was jokingly referring to my Grand Chili Experiment (I used AN ENTIRE POT ROAST, fer chrissakes!) as Death By Chili. My words were eerily prophetic. I think I flushed part of my large intestine down the toilet.

Post-Super Bowl Monday

2005-02-07T10:12:00.000-08:00

Massive amounts of chips and chili (in my long history of making chili for Super Bowl Sunday, this may have been the best batch ever, made with black beans, turkey smoked sausage - which gave it a chipotle-esque flavor - and A WHOLE POT ROAST THROWN IN FOR GOOD MEASURE. My god, it was good.) were consumed by Beth, Ian, Kelly and I. The commericals were a disappointment, with a few exceptions. Personal favorite was the MBNA credit card ad featuring England's national rugby team and Gladys Knight. Geekdom during the "Batman Begins" and "War of the Worlds" ads. I'm not sure what GoDaddy.com is, but their ad was very effective. You can see 'em all here: http://dyn.ifilm.com/superbowlads/

The game itself was pretty good. Special props must go out to Eagles receiver Freddie Mitchell. Mitchell gained some pre-game notoriety by running smack about the Patriots' defense, singling out veteran Rodney Harrison. Mitchell's one - single, only, sole, count'em - ONE reception in the game occurs with 2:44 left in the game, with the Eagles trailing by 10. Now, if you watched the game, you know that Philly's clock management in those last few minutes was atrocious, perhaps the worst I've seen in ANY football game. And so, with 2:44 left, precious seconds ticking away, Mitchell makes his ONLY catch of the game, and instead of doing what any smart player would do (run back behind the line of scrimmage and get into formation to save time)...he does a little celebratin', jumpin' around and talking shit to the Patriots (who presumably asked him if he a.) knew the score of the game and b.) was aware that that football games only have 4 quarters ). Philly fans are a bunch of savages. I predict that they will hunt Mitchell down and douse him with gasoline and immolate him.

Moving further back through time, Saturday was fun, as we took a trip to the Wild Animal Park. Lucas, as seen in the picture below, had a close encounter with a lorikeet.

2005-02-05T16:13:00.000-08:00

Son, you got a lorikeet on your head.

2005-02-04T15:25:00.000-08:00

It's nice to be busy at work. The past couple of days have zipped on by, and it's getting to be Yabba Dabba Doo Time again. Nothing on the agenda, not even a Super Bowl party to host or attend.

Last night's meeting with the financial planner went well. We actually have some money to save and invest. And now I can use the phrase "Our financial planner told us..." in conversation! I feel so grown up. (There's probably something seriously wrong with me, in that I have a son who'll be turning a year old in a month, and it took a meeting with a financial planner to further push me into responsible adulthood.)

Ah, responsibility. I drove past UCSD on the way back from lunch (time well spent with Beth and Lucas, who got himself a new pair of shoes to help him with his learning to walk). I never cease to shake my head at the fact that I'm now 13 years removed from my college days. Not that I want to return to the days of binge drinking and angst (well, our old friend angst still stops by for extended visits every few weeks). I'm just amazed that there was a time in my life when the only thing that really mattered was knowing where the parties were going to be that weekend.

Not that I'm a grumpy old man these days. Far from it. The days are getting longer, meaning that pretty soon I'm going to be bringing the surfboard to work.

Yep, I have my moments of regression. But it's safe to say that I'm bit more tightly wrapped than this guy:
http://www.waitingforstarwars.blogspot.com/

2005-02-03T15:52:00.000-08:00

Even more staggering than my recent announcement that we will meeting with the Rabbi: tonight we are seeing a...a.....a........financial planner!(Lighting crashes. Shot rings out. Woman screams.)

I'm as confused as you are. Seeing a financial planner assumes that one actually has FINANCES that require PLANNING. Since I feel queasy every time we put gas in the car, and am overwhelmed with guilt when I buy a $17.00 used Xbox game (I've almost completed "Halo"! Welcome to 2003!), I'm not quite sure we're in a position to start building a portfolio. Still, this is part of being a Responsible Adult. And I am a Responsible Adult. Even if I spent a good three hours today chatting on the Television Without Pity Forums. (The consensus, by the way, was that last night's "Smallville" rocked.)

2005-02-02T09:40:00.000-08:00

Some minor changes: note the new Bloggage section. These are links to, yes, you guessed it, blogs that I enjoy reading. I'll add more as I find 'em, and don't expect to see the standard Bloggie Award nominees. I'll give a shout out to those blogging on in relative obscurity (although if Beth's hits continue on pace, she'll have lapped me after only blogging for a few short weeks. Good on ya, wife o'mine.)

I'm starting to hate the template that I use, but can't seem to find one that I like. I've gone to www.blogskins.com to see what they have, but no luck. The templates there seem to be written for and by 15 year old girls. I don't know that a "Hello, Kitty" themed format would be right for Pet Cobra.

Meanwhile, in Lakerland, the L.A. Times has reported that Kobe is O.K. with bringing Phil Jackson back. And Phil, in an interview with an Australian paper (excuse me for a second while I pause to choke down my bitter jealousy over the guy who leads one of the most charmed lives on the planet. Legendary NBA coach. Best-selling author. Retired globetrotting multi-millionare. Oh, and his girlfriend is the daughter of the guy who signs Shaq's checks. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.) has said that he's mulling over the possibility. To that, I can say only this. PLEASE. PLEEEEASE. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE.

You'd think, after all this time, that the man would be incapable of topping himself. But no. And will this little Freudian slip prompt Michael Moore to investigate the ties between the Iraq war and the makers of Viagra?
http://www.dubyaspeak.com/audio/erection.phtml

BREAKING NEWS

2005-02-01T13:47:00.000-08:00

Well. Didn't take long for Rudy T's "health" (i.e., headaches and ulcers caused by having to "coach" Kobe) to cause him to resign his position as head coach of your Los Angeles Lakers. According to ESPN, Tomjanovich will announce that he's stepping down after tonight's game with Portland. The guy spends 12 years at Houston, gets them 2 NBA titles, and he can't make it to the All-Star break in his first season with the Kobe Show.

I don't blame him. Why even bother to hire a replacement? Kobe thinks he's Jordan? Let's cut the bullshit, shall we? Jerry Buss, don't bother hiring another head coach. Sew a big "C" onto Kobe's jersey (and while you're at it, how 'bout a big scarlet "A" to boot?) and let him be in charge.

Phil and Shaq must be laughing their asses off.

BLAAAAHg

2005-02-01T11:15:00.000-08:00

I'm uninspired today. Primarily because I'm stuck in an office, and the weather outside is spectacular. I'm going to zip over to the local mall in a few and get some air. Some random thoughts:

I was bit hard on the female bloggers mentioned in that New York Times article. No, scratch that - they deserve it for blatantly copying Heather B.'s style. Really, I should have mentioned the male bloggers. They're equally lame.

I hooked up some speakers to the computer here at my satellite office. Just listened to a Poi Dog Pondering mix CD given to me by Kelly and Ian. They're good, and I'm wondering if they are still together.

For lunch I had something called Spanish Chicken Stew. It came in a jar, courtesy of the food mavens at Trader Joe's. (I'm not sure if I used the word "mavens" correctly, but I like the sound of it.)

It's staying lighter longer. Post-work surf sessions are just around the corner. I wonder if Lucas will enjoy watching Dad catch waves. It seems to freak Mick out; he tries to run out into the surf after me, barking with concern, but stops when the water reaches his doggie chest.

Blogs are the New Black

2005-01-31T14:31:00.000-08:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/30/fashion/30moms.html?pagewanted=1&ei=5070&en=54fdcd4a53c97a92&ex=1108184400

Beth sent this article to me earlier today. Apparently it's generating a bit of controversy, implying as it does that parental-themed blogs are really the product of attention starved former Gen X'ers who can't cope with the challenges and responsibilities that come with having kids.

Fair enough. And I agree, in part. There's a need, a healthy one if you axe me, to be seen as someone other than "Daddy" or "Mommy". My blog gives me the chance to rant and express some level of creativity. In a sense, it allows me to reinforce myself, to reaffirm the things that I'm passionate about, and to rail against the things that piss me off. I don't see it as "payback" (as one blogger interviewed in the articles asserts) for the things that accompany parenting (diapers, puke, 4:00 a.m. shrieking sessions - as my childhood hero Hunter S. Thompson says, you buy the ticket, you take the ride). I don't see parenthood as "dehumanizing and ugly" (the fussy.org author) - and I've had a kid in the hospital suffering from a life-threatening disease.

Not surprisingly, Heather Armstrong's (she who is www.dooce.com, the patron saint of blogging) comment hits the nail on the head - "The writing and voice I had let me hold onto part of the original and old Heather". (I noticed that the female bloggers interviewed for the article have a writing style that - how do I put this nicely? - "pays tribute" to Armstrong's. I've read her stuff a couple of times, but not on a regular basis as it's easy to fall into the Rip Off Pit, as most of the bloggers in that article have.)

My point? Don't know, maybe I don't even have one, and maybe that in itself is the point.

2005-01-31T09:52:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was spent nursing the hangover, which kept me in it's grip (and in my pajamas) for most of the day. Contrary to my expectations, Iraq did not descend into anarachy - by all accounts, the election went well. And that's a good thing. Regardless of the lies that brought us the war, and the occupation/mess that it's morphed into, even a semi-successful election is a step in the right direction.

Speaking of morphing into a mess, we watched "Super Size Me" yesterday evening. Highly recommend the movie - comparisons between Morgan Spurlock (writer, director, star and guinea pig) and Michael Moore have been made, and IMHO this was a much better movie than "Fahrenheit 9/11". The movie takes jabs at the fast food industry, but also points the finger at the public for their appetite for crap food, and evens takes a swipe at the individuals (and their lawyers) who are suing McDonald's in an attempt to shift blame for their piss-poor eating habits and lack of exercise. Very funny and thought-provoking, and left me with one thought: Sweet Jesus, I'm never eating McDonald's again. (A thought which occurred to me while enjoying pizza and breadsticks from Papa John's. We had a spinach salad with the meal too. And it was thin crust pizza. With no meat.)

Hangover

2005-01-30T07:44:00.000-08:00

4 pints of sangria and 2 vodka and Red Bulls later...ugh. Curse my inner alarm clock. I always wake up no later than 6:30 a.m., regardless of what I've ingested the night before. It is my gift. It is my curse. Lucas and Beth are still asleep. I'm half watching last night's "Star Trek: Enterprise". I feel like I've been eaten by a wolf and shit over a cliff.

2005-01-29T08:39:00.000-08:00

The Prodigal Son

Saturday TV Funhouse

2005-01-29T08:18:00.000-08:00

A rare Saturday a.m. post. Lucas and I are chillin'; me with my coffee, he with his Cheerios and formula. Usually he's up at 6:30, and together we watch the DVR'ed "Battlestar: Galactica" on Saturday morning and "Ghost in The Shell: Stand Alone Complex" (yes, I'll admit to watching a Japanese cartoon. I surf, therefore I cannot by definition be a nerd. Eat me.) on Sundays. But today he slept in, so I had some "me" time.

No Belgian/Flemish food for us tonight. Popular consensus has dictated that we are going for Spanish, tapas and sangria and aiolla oh my. Today is shaping up to be a nice day. If it doesn't rain I'm going surfing tomorrow.

Lucas is making fart noises and laughing. Irrefutable proof of his geneology.

2005-01-28T21:57:00.000-08:00

yup...

2005-01-28T13:27:00.000-08:00

Why don't I write more about my kid? Because Beth is so much better at summing up the highs and lows of being a parent than me. If you're not reading her blog (linked in the Required Reading section) then I don't want to know you.

Attention, gals at www.gofugyourself.com:
http://www.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/europe/01/28/auschwitz.cheney.reut/index.html

The guy rarely fails to live up to his nickname. I truly believe that if this ceremony had been held last month, Cheney would have shown up sporting a red Santa hat.

Ah, Friday. Your tax dollars at work, folks. Or not. Fridays are slower than a "short bus" that's run over a CHP spike strip.

Still, I am grateful. Things could be much, much worse. Following is an actual bit of correspondance between a friend of mine (we'll call him "Kurt") and one of his colleagues (we'll call her "Professor X", because it sounds sinister) regarding one of "Professor X's" students. As always, I Am Not Making This Up:

Hi, "Professor X".
I was recently contacted by a student of yours, ****, who is interested in doing a postdoc in my lab. My understanding from our brief conversation is that he failed his preliminary exam largely for "not knowing any biology". I'm a biochemically-minded cell biologist working on cytoskeletal problems in eukaryotes and prokaryotes. I'd appreciate any information you could spare about ****. There seem to be significant red flags. Please let me know if I'd be missing out on a great opportunity by not considering him. Thanks, Kurt

Kurt: I like **** so it was very disappointing to see him fail this week. He has a lot of energy and occasionally is quite creative in his research. He works hard at his research. That said, I think his committee felt very strongly that someone who has taken off weeks and weeks to prepare for his preliminary exams should come to them knowing a solid amount about the subject areas touched upon. I don't know why he does not seem able to remember any details but his mind was blank on multiple subjects, including technical aspects of preparing cDNA, the tools we have against malaria, aspects of mosquito anatomy and basic entomology and so on. **** has also had significant issues in the lab. He is very sloppy physically, taking up his own bench and desk space but also every other nook and cranny in the lab he can comandeer or spill onto. It is difficult sometimes to go back in his notebook and decipher exactly what he did, although I believe this is improving. He has destroyed computers by downloading material with viruses from Chinese sites. I've had to bar him from animal use and we had one incident in which he did not follow my explicit instructions and then tried to talk other lab members into covering for him. I would never allow him to use radioactivity. Others in the building tell me that they find him difficult socially and that he makes them uncomfortable. It's not that he's unpleasant or rude, just that his social skills are sometimes very rough. This is not cultural because I have a research associate who is from China and he does not resemble **** in any way. I know he is struggling with his future. He is amazingly resilient-he told me today he thought he could get a postdoc here on campus because he already has an M.D. I just do not think he will ever make a good scientist-he might be able to become a good technician if a PI had time to monitor him very closely for awhile and the tasks were fairly repetitive.

Yikes. The scary part - HE HAS AN M.D.

On tap for this weekend: dinner with friends tonight, then a Date Night with Beth tomorrow (which will probably be a group thing; Kelly and Ian are planning on going with us and dropping off their kid, Gavin, at our place to hang with Melissa and Lucas).

Of course it started raining about an hour ago. Looks like it's shaping up to be another Xbox Weekend.

2005-01-27T11:10:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 11:10 a.m., random thoughts:

There's a brank-spankin'-new 2005 (2006?) Mustang parked in the lot below. It's yellow, but apart from that, man, that's a sweet car. I'm not big on cars, sports cars in particular, and Mustangs in particular in particular, but if I were a rich man I'd buy one.

I'm spending WAY too much time surfing the forums at www.televisionwithoutpity.com. I've gone from the "Just Tuned In" classification to "Channel Surfer" in a manner of days, thanks to my postings (primarily in the "24" forums, which are pretty funny. The forums, that is. I think my postings are also pretty funny, but I don't like to brag).

Other than that, not a whole hell of a lot going on.

Today in God

2005-01-26T11:33:00.000-08:00

One question. Why?
http://dunkindonutstalk.com/

So things on the spiritual/cultural front are about to get interesting for me. As the product of a mixed marriage (Dad= Catholic, Mom = non-practicing Jew), I've never given much thought to subscribing to any one particular religion. Christianity seems to have more than its fair share of hypocrisy (the whole Crusades thing, the Inquisition, and NAMBLA card-carrying priests), as does Judaism (politically speaking, anyway - being persecuted does not mean that it's OK for you to persecute others). Beth has the same issue (Dad=non-practing Jew, Mom=non-practicing Chrisitian), but she's always been interested in learning more about our Jewish heritage. I'd classify myself as an agnostic; if there's a Supreme Being, He/She is probably more concerned about how I live my life than how many times I say "Goddammit".

So at Eli's wedding a couple of weeks ago, we had a chat with the rabbi, a gal in her late twenties/early 30's who was pretty hip. She's part of the Reform movement, which sees the Jewish faith as more of an evolving culture and philosophy, and embraces cultural and intellectual diversity. Which struck me as interesting - spiritual, but not religious. I have real issues with "religion" as I define it - blindly follow a set of laws and rituals handed down over hundreds of years, with no thought given to their meaning or relevance in today's world. (Catholicism strikes me as the most telling example of this.) Beth and I are going to pay a visit to the local Reform synagogue and check it out. Not to worry - I have no intention of becoming a Bible-thumper. I'll keep you posted on this. Should be interesting fodder for the blog. (I've been thinking of compiling my notes on my brief foray into rugby for an article of some sort. This little adventure might also be good. I'd like your comments on the matter. Please. It gets lonely without comments.)

And I'm steering clear of Asia. He/She must have a beef with those folks.
http://www.cnn.com/2005/TECH/space/01/26/cambodia.meteorite.reut/index.html

It's Wednesday. Halfway to the weekend. Oh - new, I mean FRESH, "Smallville" tonight! Ah, glorious TV Oasis returns in all it's...glory.

Gray Tuesday

2005-01-25T13:51:00.000-08:00

The clouds are rolling back in; we're supposed to get more rain tonight and tomorrow. I am down in the Valley, working from the junky Windows 2000 machine. Our IT guy has promised to upgrade it, but it's low on his priority list, and so I suffer through outdated OS Hell.

I'm not too excited about the Oscar noms, as I haven't seen any of the Best Picture contenders. In fact, the only Oscar-nominated movies from last year that I did see are "Eternal Sunshine", "Collateral" (Jamie Foxx, Supporting Actor), "The Incredibles" (screenplay and best animated - it should have been nominated for Best Picture, IMHO) and "Shrek 2" (best animated). I'm outraged at the exclusion of perhaps the most controversial film of the year, a film that I finally got to see last night - "Dodgeball" starring Vince Vaughn and Ben Stiller. Seriously, though - "Dodgeball" was easily one of the most awful movies I've ever seen. Ben Stiller needs to go away, far away, where he cannot harm anyone.

I have finished my project of the day; my goal was to purge my desk of yellow stickies, most of them with cryptic messages. (Examples: "Nadjem - cancelled", "Don - movers delayed two days!!!!", and my personal favorite "Thurs. F. 75k."). Yes, welcome to the whirlwind of excitement that is my job. Tomorrow, perhaps, I will sharpen some pencils. And reload my stapler! Yesssssss!

Hey-oh

2005-01-23T10:56:00.000-08:00

Sad coincidence. The minute I logged on, a special report came on, John Seigenthaler announcing that Johnny Carson had just died. 79 years old, apparently from emphysema. That's too bad. He slipped a bit during his last few years as the "Tonight Show" host, but was always funnier than Leno.

Spongebob will Roast in the Fires of Hell

2005-01-21T10:38:00.000-08:00

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea, and is apparently a God-cursed sodomite?
Spongebob Squarepants! At least that's what a few loud-mouthed nutjobs who make up a group called the American Family Association would have us believe.
http://www.cnn.com/2005/SHOWBIZ/TV/01/20/sponge.bob.reut/index.html

The New York Times did a similar story on this; the America Fascist Association cites the fact that Spongebob occasionally holds hands with his MALE starfish friend Patrick as proof that the show promotes homosexuality and "the gay agenda". In a related story, the KKK has condemned the show for promoting inter-racial relations. "Them starfish should be put on a boat and shipped back to the Great Barrier Reef where their kind belong", said a KKK spokesman. "We don't need them soiling our sponge women. It's un-Godly." Meanwhile, the American Nazi Party has offered mixed praise for the show; while they don't approve of the rampant homosexual and Jungle Fever themes, they applaud the character of Squidward as being an accurate depiction of the typical evil Jewish overseer. Yikes. Guess I'll have to make Lucas watch more wholesome TV, like the quality, family-oriented shows on the Fox network.

Well, it's Friday, and I'm needing to get my lunch on. After that, four hours to freedom. I leave you with this, courtesy of Kurt, who really needs to do his own blog:
http://www.buffalobeast.com/66/50mostLoathsome2004.htm

Hail to the Chief

2005-01-20T13:40:00.000-08:00

Freedom is the new black. So Dubya would have us believe. I read a transcript of his inaugural address, and the word "freedom" was used 45,938 times. That's right. 45,938 times. Here is the closing passage from his address, taken directly from the CNN.com transcripts:

"It's all about freedom. We love it. We need it. We shall spread it amongst the ass-backward heathen. We need them to love it and need it too. They need to love it like a crack mama loves the rock. When freedom spreads its sequined gossamer lovesexy wings around the globe all of our problems will be solved. We will cure cancer. We will figure out the Rubik's Cube. We will walk on the planet Pluto. We will all run naked under the Blazing Sun of Liberty, holding hands - well, the boys will hold the girls' hands, can't have two people of the same sex holding hands, can we - and signing "God Bless America" at the top of our ever-loving lungs. As the famous philosopher Sting so eloquently put it, If you LOOOOOVE somebody, set them free. Everyone say it with me now. Freedom. Freedom. You there in the front. I didn't hear you. Maybe you don't speak English. Guard, have that man shot. Now, my fellow Americans, I invite you to join me in taking a collective hit from the bong of liberty, and we'll venture forth to find some freedom fries to satiate our munchies."

Kind of an interesting speech, no? I think he's back on the sauce and the Columbian Marching Powder. (And if you think I'm kidding about the tone and wording of Bush's address, feel free to zip on over to CNN.com and read the transcript. As is so often the case, he says a lot without saying much of anything.)

Needless to say, I'm a bit depressed over the whole thing. But although we tend to do stupid things like re-elect Bush, we humans do have our moments.
http://slate.msn.com/id/2112180/ (You may have to copy and paste this link, as my computer du jour is a piece de mierd.)

"Smell The Glove is here!"

2005-01-19T13:00:00.000-08:00

Why I'm doing a mid-day entry when I'm up to my frakking (foreshadowing!) ears in work is anyone's guess. I can justify it by saying it's technically my lunch break (having forgotten to bring my lunch, I wandered down to the Caf and purchased a bowl of white bean and chorizo soup for a mere $2.95. To my surprise, it tastes almost, but not quite, entirely unlike chorizo.) and for a few glorious minutes I am free, unfettered by the constant demands of hiring managers and candidates. I was tempted to wander across the street to the Torrey Pines Golf Course and sneak in to watch the Buick Invitational. Yes, I work in a fantastic location. I'd like it even more if my office had windows.

TV Paradise is this evening - I believe we may even have a new (or as the hipster ad people at the WB say, a "fresh") "Smallville". "The West Wing" appears to be recovering from it's tailspin; Bartlet is a lame duck and is being pushed aside (a cruel thing to do to a guy with cerebral palsy, or whatever the hell disease the writers inflicted upon him - and us.) in favor of President Pimp Daddy J Smits and First Lady Focker. I fear for "Alias", especially as "24" ratcheted up the suspense a notch on Monday. "Lost" I'm not worried about.

Now if the execs at the SciFi Channel put "Battlestar Galactica" on Weds., I'm going to have serious issues.

I'd put it in my top three, behind "Deadwood" and "Lost". And it bears comparison to both. Like "Deadwood", it's a pretty grim twist on a cliched genre. Like "Lost", it has really interesting, well-rounded characters and enough surprises to keep you guessing. Even if you don't like sci-fi shows (and apart from this one, the rest of 'em are crap written for teenagers and adults who still live with their parents), it's great TV. Highly, highly recommend it.

Meanwhile, our girl Condi is now the Secretary of State. "The time for diplomacy is now", she brilliantly observed during her confirmation hearings. Actually, the time for diplomacy was "then", i.e., when Condi and her crew were lying to her fellow citizens and the rest of the world about Iraq. The time for APOLOGY is now. Watching Kerry, Biden and Boxer rake her over the coals was great, even if it was futile. Not much left to do now except watch the train go off the rails; the chaos that will be unleashed during the Iraqi "elections" is going to be fearful.

All righty then. back to work.

New Link! Brilliant!

2005-01-18T14:49:00.000-08:00

I've added Beth's blog to the Required Reading section. Check it out. I'm sure you're wondering who in their right mind would bear my child. Also there is a picture of me in all my nascent glory. And no, we did not give Lucas a Mohawk.

2005-01-18T13:02:00.000-08:00

Back at work after a long weekend. Eli's wedding was nice; hung out with the husband of one of the bridesmaids while Beth did her matron of honor duties. Had the day off yesterday. Spent the morning hanging out with Lucas; he is a bundle of energy, a non-stop crawler and talker (now moving into the "yeller" phase, as he is learning that he can up the volume of his voice, which makes Mick the dog even more jumpy around him. Babies, apparently, are like American tourists abroad: they assume that if you don't understand the words that are coming out of their mouths, saying those words LOUDER will result in comprehension). Beth left work early and we went to UTC mall to do some much-needed shopping; for me, a new Ben Sherman shirt, black Rusty pants, and "ESPN NFL 2K5" for the Xbox. The weather is stunning, brilliantly sunny and warm (downside - my Mission Valley office, where I spend my Tuesdays and Thursdays, has a huge window that faces the sun, heating things up nicely. Note to self: short sleeves on those days, moving forward). By 9:00 last night I was done, too tired even to watch "24" (thank you, DVR). I'll classify that weekend as the Official End of The Holiday Season.

I'm feeling like a lethargic slug. Activity levels have dropped sharply over the past month (and damn you, creative team behind the new "Battlestar Galactica", for adding to my woes. For you have unleashed, behind "Lost", the best new show of the year, and I will be devoting space on tomorrow's entry to sing your praises and to convince those non-geeks that your show is definitely not geekfodder, but an intelligent, suspenseful, character-driven drama that deserves a wide audience. Jesus, I sound like Roger Ebert.) I'm going to hit the gym starting tomorrow.

2005-01-13T13:09:00.000-08:00

Three hours and my four day weekend begins! I have MLK Day off, and took tomorrow off as we are heading up to L.A. for a wedding. Our friends Eli and Mark are getting hitched. Eli was Beth's maid of honor, and now Beth is reciprocating. (Eli is short for Elizabeth, by the way.)

"Lost" was excellent, back to form and providing a major WTF??? moment. I wasn't surprised when it was revealed that Boone and Shannon were actually step-siblings. Boone's subsequent hallucination opened up a whole new box of questions. The show seems to be back on headache-inducing course. "Alis" is still a concern (no mention of Rambaldi - looks like he's been put to rest - and Jack put the kabosh on Nadia's desire to whack Irina's killer - which means that Jack won't have to kill Nadia). Ah, Wednesday TV Night.

It's clouding up again, which does not bode well for surfing. I'm REALLY hoping to get back in the water on Monday morning. Found an excellent blog whose author relates:
http://novicesurf.blogpsot.com

And I'm officially sick of the zero-carb life. I daydreamed today of Texas Toast, that slab of toasted stale cheese-covered bread that is the jewel in Sizzler's crown. Texas Toast and my beloved Starbuck's grande vanilla mocha.

Jack Bauer for Homeland Security Director

2005-01-11T13:22:00.000-08:00

Bush has nominated/appointed some guy by the name of Michael Chertoff to run CTU...er, the Department of Homeland Security. Apparently his claim to fame is that he wasted a whole lot of taxplayer money as the GOP counsel on Whitewater. He has absolutely no experience running large organizations, nor does he have a background in intelligence. He does, however, sport the Arvin Sloane pseudo-beard, and is rather sinister looking. Bush should make him wear a black hooded robe to work.
http://www.cnn.com/2005/ALLPOLITICS/01/11/homeland/index.html

I'd nominate my boy Jack Bauer. Despite the fact that he is a fictional character (a fact that did not dissuade people from electing Ronald Reagan, or George W. Bush), I believe he'd do a fine job. He's saved the U.S. from terrorist attacks 3 separate times, and each time it only took him 24 hours - very cost effective, especially if you pay him an hourly wage.

Miracle of miracles, it stopped raining. My satelite office, where I spend my Tuesdays and Thursday, was rife with ants when I arrived this morning. "It's because of the rain", the admin told me, and gave me a can of Raid. So I killed the ants that were swarming all over my keyboard and desk, and spent the better part of the morning getting high on Raid fumes.

I have this Friday off, and the following Monday to boot. My week is almost half over. Huzzah.

Notes from the Deluge

2005-01-10T14:41:00.000-08:00

First, I need to flex the creative muscles a bit more. My disillusionment over the election has taken root. I wouldn't use the "spreading like a cancer" analogy, but I would liken it to finding a new "skin tag". So. I've trended towards a more holistic approach to the blog, less punditry, more personal, and hopefully more creativity. Hence an Actual Title for this entry, and the start of a new trend.

It's been pissing rain for the past four days. Unusual for San Diego. Everything is green, except the paved areas, and there's an inch of water covering everything including said paved areas. We are not used to this.

Certainly the Chargers were not used to it on Saturday, when they bowed out of the playoffs in an opening round loss to the Jets. Rookie kicker Nate Kaeding missed a 40 yard field goal in OT that would've won the game. The rain was a factor.

Beth and I were on a date that night, so we missed the end. We ate sushi and drank a lot of sake, then went to see "The Life Aquatic". (Lucas, meanwhile, remained at home with Melissa our nanny. I assume he did not watch the game.) I think I liked it more than Beth. It's a comedy, and just like Wes Anderson's other movies it's a bit sad as well. Plus there's a subtle tribute to one of the all-time great cult films, "Buckaroo Banzai". You'll know it when you see it.

Sunday was spent in pajamas. We watched "Troy" on DVD. It was not good. Homer's 10 year siege turns into a three week jaunt; literally, the Greeks land on the beaches of Troy, fight the Trojans over the course of three days, Achilles (spoiler, for those of you who slept through your freshman literature course in high school) kills Hector, gives the Trojans 12 days to mourn, during which the Greeks seemingly bail and leave behind the big wooden horse, at which point Beth turns to me and says "Didn't these guys (the Trojans) think to check INSIDE the big horse before dragging it into the middle of their city?" to which I think I replied "These are the people who invented the mullet." (Which, if you know your Greek history, is true.)

2005-01-07T15:13:00.000-08:00

An hour till quittin' time. I'm in my office listening to Phish and coasting to the finish line. Massive amounts of paper-shuffling occurred this morning, and now my work is done.

There's no time to slack off for Richard Gere, though:
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/nm/people_gere_dc

As with so many of you out there, I signed my waiver giving Richard Gere full authority to speak on my behalf, and I'm glad he's putting that power to good use.

2005-01-06T20:01:00.000-08:00

First off, as is tradition, much respect to reader Avalest, who dropped by with a comment yesterday. Check his trip at www.xanga.com.

Beth and I are riding the couch tonight. Must See TV is a pale shadow of its former self. Lucy Liu is on "Joey", fer crissake. Even Wednesday Kick Ass TV Orgy was a letdown. "Lost" was weak. Weak I say! Even with the gratuitous shot of Kate running around in her underwear. And "Alias" - I fear for "Alias". We're supposed to believe that the CIA has put Arvin Fucking Sloane in charge of a secret black ops unit? And Sydney, Vaughn, Jack, and Dixon (who killed Sloane's wife, and vice versa!) are working for him? We all know that "The West Wing" is shite these days. My world is collapsing around me.

Question: I'm on the laptop, and I have a Blackberry. Would the wireless Blackberry network interfere with the laptop's wireless connection? I was doing an entry earlier, and lost my connection at the same my Blackberry received an email. Zog not understand. Ugh. Ugh.

We are on day 2 of our return to the South Beach Diet. Every fiber of my being is shrieking for a Coke. A real Coke. A Vanilla Coke. With whipped creme on top. And add some maple syrup to that motherfucker while you're at it. Beth has harshly reminded me that we are, in fact, on day 4.5. We started on Tuesday. That makes it day 3.5. Our minds are slipping. We are sugar junkies looking for a fix, in the stupifying depths of withdrawal.

2005-01-05T13:23:00.000-08:00

ABC News (or so the good folks at Blogger.com would have us believe) gives much love to the bloggers, calling us the People of The Year. After all, We brought down that sodden lout Dan Rather, We stirred the cauldron of vitriol that was the Presidential election, and in recent days We have helped unite the world by providing pictures and info on the ghastly (I've run out of adjectives to describe the tsunami - in light of recent revelations that orphaned children who survived are being snatched up and sold into slavery, "nauseating" might be a good one) tsunami disaster and subsequent relief efforts.

So if bloggers are truly the People of The Year, we must crown our King. Allow me to introduce him:

http://dark-moti.blogspot.com/

"Dark Moti" sounds like a Star Wars villain, no? And who knew that Iceland was the hotbed of male models? See what you learn from the Blog-O-Sphere?

All that is insignificant compared to the Greatest. TV. Night. Ever. "Lost" and "Alias" back to back. "Smallville" and "The West Wing" cued up on the DVR (TiVo without the branding). It was not so long ago that I took up valuable bandwidth ranting about "important" things, like the election, the Iraq War, the future of our very civilization, blah blah blah. Who gives a rat's ass? What is the terrible secret Jack Bristow has kept hidden from Sydney?

Ok, lunch break is over. Back to work.

2005-01-03T16:01:00.000-08:00

Addendum: Your comments are welcome, desired, longed for, and occasionally rewarded. Hence I offer a link to another good blog, penned by reader Jason who had good things to say about me.

http://fightingbananas.blogspot.com/

2005-01-03T14:54:00.000-08:00

Well, the awkward forced social encounter between The Families did occur on New Year's Day, and did not, as feared, result in me screaming and throwing kitchen knives at people. Apart from Larry (father-in-law) refusing to drink good wine from our "inferior" wine glasses (they are - gasp - tinted blue, and not clear, like a proper wine glass, and so Larry drank his vino out of a $2.00 Crate and Barrel milk glass that had a cow embossed on it but was, thankfully, see-through, the moral of this story being that you should not allow your in-laws to see the movie "Sideways") , there was no controversy. In the spirit of the holidays, everyone got along well. It was actually kind of nice. And in no way did it deter me from my intention of taking Beth and Lucas to Hawaii for the holidays next year. Mele Kalikimaka!

One more bit o'holiday fun, and we'll move on:
http://www.wrestlecrap.com/swholidayspecial.html

My distinction of being the only rabid Bush-hater in America who hasn't seen "Fahrenheit 9/11" ended yesterday. What better way to cap off a stressful holiday week than with a nice, relaxing movie about terrorist attacks, our twisted relationship with the Saudis, and the tragic war in Iraq.

I was surprisingly - and completely - underwhelmed. As a documentary, it's shoddy work, with half-truths and conjecture, all flash and no substance. As anti-Bush propaganda, it's only partially successful - Moore professes to empathize with a key subject of the movie, a grieving mother who's lost her son in the Iraq war, and yet one of the more shocking segments in the movie are the scenes of young soldiers talking about the "rush" of battle, going to war listening to heavy metal and gangsta rap piped through the speakers of their tanks and helicopters. Moore's intentions here are murky, but hint at painting these kids in the same "baby killer" vein as was the fashion during the Vietnam War. And vilifying Marine recruiters making their rounds through Moore's hometown of Flint, Michigan fails to take into account that in many cases, the military DOES offer a lot to kids who'd otherwise be jobless and homeless. Moore seems content to make Bush look like a bumbling spoiled rich idiot, hardly an original position even when the film was first released, and again points the finger at Big Corporations who are apparently the root of all evil on the planet. And, as is so often the case, too much of it is about Michael Moore. His funny narrations. His stunts, like driving around the Capitol while reading the Patriot Act over a loudspeaker. His ham-handed attempts to comfort the aforementioned grieving mother and her family. It's an amazingly shallow film.

My friend Ian has a theory about Whoppi Goldberg: everyone SAYS she's funny, but no one really believes it. Well, fellow left-leaners, it seems we have a new Emperor, and he's not wearing any clothes, and his initials are M.M.

2004-12-30T10:02:00.000-08:00

This will be my last post of the year, and some reflection is in order.

I finished reading Neal Stephenson's massive (917 pages) novel "Quicksilver" last night, and highly recommend it. The first in a trilogy, it takes place during the late 1600's and shows us the true beginnings of our current Information Age, when alchemy was replaced by science and finance became both a link between nations and a new type of international battlefield. Sounds dry, but is actually a fun (albeit exhausting) read, and my choice for the best book I've read this year. It occured to me that had I gotten an infected hangnail back in 1689, my dad's diagnosis most likely would have been correct. (As it stands, my right forearm is red and swollen, and I feel like shit from that and the antibiotics I'm taking, but hey, it beats being "bled", as they used to do.)

I'd be hard pressed to find a shittier way for the year to end than having a tsunami wipe out over 100,000 people. And the fingerpointing has already started - the New York Times ran an editorial today chastizing the Bush administration for both its late response (Bush waited 3 days to make a statement - I agree with the Times on this; Bush's team was amazingly stupid here. A brief, sympathetic statement by the President immediately after the disaster was needed - when most of the world despises you, you need as much good PR as you can get. This was an excellent opportunity for Bush to step up and show the world that we are still the driving force behind every major humanitarian relief effort, and he dropped the ball. Not surprising, considering his myopic worldview, but a disappointment and an embarassment nonetheless. George Bush - a true shithead.) and what the Times perceives as a "miserly" amount of aid. That I disagree with. It's pretty clear that a). we still don't know the extent of aid that will be needed, nor have we gotten a handle on the logistics of getting that aid to the countries that need it and b). Colin Powell has repeatededly said that the $35 million is an initial sum, to be followed up by long-term aid to the region. What's more, this $35 million does not include the costs that the Pentagon is incurring to move equipment and personnel to the region. In addition, the aid donated through the private sector will be considerable:
http://money.cnn.com/2004/12/30/news/fortune500/corporate_aid/index.htm?cnn=yes
(I don't, however, see Nike's name in this article, and considering that they lost a good chunk of their workforce in the disaster, they'd better be prepared to pony up. And I'm looking forward to seeing the lineup for the inevitable Live Aid II. Maybe Phish will reunite for it!)

So the year ends. Do I have any resolutions? Not really. I'll just do what Bob Dylan suggests, something I highly recommend to you, Dear Reader: keep on keepin' on. See you in '05.