Today was an example of bad planning turning into some fun. We thought about going downtown to test-drive a car, and hopped on the train. As the stops went by, more and more people wearing leather and little else were getting on. Pretty sure that there wasn't a Village People reunion concert going on, we started to realize that the odds of driving anywhere downtown were nil: it was Folsom Street Fair weekend, and that means several blocks of downtown shut down for the leather-and-chain clad masses.
Or I should say, leather-and-chain clad masses if you are lucky. To get your ticket/sticker to enter, you have to walk past the "No Nudity" sign to the topless girl selling the stickers. Ahem. Once past the ticket booth, it was literally anything goes: I can't even imagine the level of self-confidence involved in walking around wearing nothing but a leather hat, shackles, and flip-flops, but there were dozens of people who could clearly answer that question. I think my favorite part was seeing the line of people waiting to get spanked for a donation of at least $5 to a Hurricane Katrina relief fund. I love this city.
Didn't get to test drive the car due to the street closures, but certainly didn't go away bored! We also found this cool Spanish restaurant that had amazing tapas and some of the best sangria we've had in a long while. It's cool to eat the fruit out of the wine glass, right?
Good afternoon.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Litter or recycling?
I have been watching an interesting phenomenon on the train recently: people littering, and doing so completely free of guilt. Here's what they do: as they finish a section of the newspaper, they fold it up, and drop it on the floor under their seat. I have seen this happen a few times, and finally asked this guy who had just dropped the financial section of the Chronicle under a BART seat. His response: he was leaving it for someone else to read. I asked him if he got it off the floor originally, and he said no. So I asked the next Larry David-esque question: would you ever pick up a newspaper off the floor of the train? He looked at me like I was being a jerk (he was partially right, in that I broke a cardinal rule of transit ettiquette: don't speak. However, I really did wonder if he would), and then got off at his stop without answering.
Interesting.
Interesting.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Devil's haircut
Yesterday, I did something I haven't done in close to fifteen years: I got a haircut. If you know me, you know that during this past decade and a half, my hairstyles have been variations on the same theme: something that I could do at home with my own set of clippers. Therefore, I invested in a $20 set of clippers lo those many years ago, and have been cutting my own hair since.
Why the change, you ask? Not sure I could tell you exactly. Part of it deals with our bathroom: there is only one outlet, and it is so old that the plug falls out, meaning I have to hold the plug in with one hand while I cut with the other. Awkward, to say the least. Related to that is the idea then of where I have to cut my own hair: I usually did it in the shower (always a good idea to take an electric device into the shower, kids!), but due to the outlet, I was cutting it over the sink, which was just messy and annoying. Honestly, though, I think I was also just tired of cutting my own damn hair.
So the streak is over. I paid $10 (outrageous!) for the cut at a little salon down the street, which was far better than the $18 (scandalous!) the barber shop next door wanted. And, I have to admit, it was nice. No clean up, nice and neat, even the neck looks good.
Might have to go back before 2020.
Why the change, you ask? Not sure I could tell you exactly. Part of it deals with our bathroom: there is only one outlet, and it is so old that the plug falls out, meaning I have to hold the plug in with one hand while I cut with the other. Awkward, to say the least. Related to that is the idea then of where I have to cut my own hair: I usually did it in the shower (always a good idea to take an electric device into the shower, kids!), but due to the outlet, I was cutting it over the sink, which was just messy and annoying. Honestly, though, I think I was also just tired of cutting my own damn hair.
So the streak is over. I paid $10 (outrageous!) for the cut at a little salon down the street, which was far better than the $18 (scandalous!) the barber shop next door wanted. And, I have to admit, it was nice. No clean up, nice and neat, even the neck looks good.
Might have to go back before 2020.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Sex shy, take two
So last night, I watched the movie Kinsey, figuring that since I had just finished reading the below-reviewed book, I would compare it with another fictionalized version of Prok's life. It should be noted that the movie is told from Kinsey's point of view, whereas the book was from the POV of one of his interviewers.
There were a lot of similarities, but the most striking difference was the portrayal of Kinsey himself. In the movie, Prok is shown as a more compassionate person, laughing, understanding that love is important, struggling with his father, etc. In the book, the opposite was true: Prok was a domineering, overbearing taskmaster who drove his team and all those around him with imperious precision.
I don't know which is true, or if the real man (as is probably often the case) was a combination of both, but one scene that occurs in both the book and movie was very telling: Kinsey having sex with his male researcher. In the book, Kinsey is clearly the aggressor, beginning choreographing, and guiding the affair from the beginning as sort of a "test" to see if indeed the young interviewer will be effective and not "sex shy." However, the movie plays the same scene very differently: Kinsey is hit on by his interviewer, and is shown to go along , albeit somewhat reluctantly, with the young man's advances.
Is it an important distinction? My guess is that there was an actual affair between the two men. However, for the movie version, I'm guessing the producers felt that the idea of their leading man Liam Neeson seducing a younger man may have been too much for the audience? Ironic, given the subject matter and content of the film, and an unfortunately short-sighted decision, given what Kinsey himself was trying to promote.
There were a lot of similarities, but the most striking difference was the portrayal of Kinsey himself. In the movie, Prok is shown as a more compassionate person, laughing, understanding that love is important, struggling with his father, etc. In the book, the opposite was true: Prok was a domineering, overbearing taskmaster who drove his team and all those around him with imperious precision.
I don't know which is true, or if the real man (as is probably often the case) was a combination of both, but one scene that occurs in both the book and movie was very telling: Kinsey having sex with his male researcher. In the book, Kinsey is clearly the aggressor, beginning choreographing, and guiding the affair from the beginning as sort of a "test" to see if indeed the young interviewer will be effective and not "sex shy." However, the movie plays the same scene very differently: Kinsey is hit on by his interviewer, and is shown to go along , albeit somewhat reluctantly, with the young man's advances.
Is it an important distinction? My guess is that there was an actual affair between the two men. However, for the movie version, I'm guessing the producers felt that the idea of their leading man Liam Neeson seducing a younger man may have been too much for the audience? Ironic, given the subject matter and content of the film, and an unfortunately short-sighted decision, given what Kinsey himself was trying to promote.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Sex shy
Just finished The Inner Circle, T.C. Boyle's fictionalization of Dr. Kinsey and the beginnings of the Kinsey Institute in the 1940s. Interesting read, and I liked the writer's choice to mirror Kinsey's own research style; this novel is all about sex research, and yet the sex described is clinical, detached, and devoid of any excitement or romance. In my opinion, Boyle made a distinct choice to write a flat, passionless (dare I say flaccid?) book to show the main flaw with Kinsey's own research: sex is more than statistics and fluids, it's about excitement and raw emotions. It made the book annoying to read at times, but it was an interesting stylistic choice.
Good read, although I'll admit sometimes I wondered if anyone was reading over my shoulder and what they thought of me. Then I wondered what Kinsey would have thought of me getting embarrassed about what other people thought of me. Then, to quote Kevin Nealon, suddenly I lost interest. I'll give it a solid B: good read, interesting subject, great style choice by the writer.
Good read, although I'll admit sometimes I wondered if anyone was reading over my shoulder and what they thought of me. Then I wondered what Kinsey would have thought of me getting embarrassed about what other people thought of me. Then, to quote Kevin Nealon, suddenly I lost interest. I'll give it a solid B: good read, interesting subject, great style choice by the writer.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Food affair?
I got home very late last night, and was both ravenously hungry and so tired I couldn't imagine cooking. So I picked up some Thai take-out and was walking home...when I ran into Mr. Ha, owner of our favorite Chinese restaurant on the block. He looked down, saw the take out bags that clearly were from some other establishment, looked up at me, and (this could have been my overactive imagination) I could have sworn I saw a brief look of disappointment flit across his face before he smiled and we engaged in small talk, all the while completely ignoring the small pink bag I was carrying.
I felt a little dirty, and wanted to reassure him that it was a one-time thing, that their pad thai meant nothing to me, and that I would always love his basil chicken in the future, first and foremost. But it all went unsaid.
I felt a little dirty, and wanted to reassure him that it was a one-time thing, that their pad thai meant nothing to me, and that I would always love his basil chicken in the future, first and foremost. But it all went unsaid.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
What video games say about my mood
If you are curious, my Xbox game du jour is Destroy All Humans!, a fun-filled romp through 1950's America trying to...well, to do exactly what the title suggests. No false advertising for this one.
Not sure I like what this says about where my head is at recently, but I guess it's better to take out my frustrations on pixels and bits than on my idiot neighbors or the moron who keeps parking in front of my driveway.
Not sure I like what this says about where my head is at recently, but I guess it's better to take out my frustrations on pixels and bits than on my idiot neighbors or the moron who keeps parking in front of my driveway.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Yabba Dabba Doofus
We bought an iPod this weekend; if you look at your calendar, you will notice that we are about two years behind the trend, which is actually pretty fast for us. Our only far right tendencies are our position on the bell curve when it comes to keeping up with current technology (we still use dial-up, we got our first DVD player last December, etc.).
In the past, it hasn't been that big of a deal. But then we brought our new little toy home...and got stopped cold. It turns out that our Windows operating system is two systems behind the minimum needed to operate an iPod, our USB port is too slow, etc. I asked the pterodactyl inside the hard drive for help, but couldn't hear his answer over the wooly mammoth vacuum cleaner.
BTW, in case you were wondering, yes, I felt very old just buying the damn thing. Even the bag made me feel bad; it is designed to be worn like a backpack, unless you look like me. Then it is designed to be carried awkwardly in both hands, like a combination of nuclear waste and a present for the grandkids.
In the past, it hasn't been that big of a deal. But then we brought our new little toy home...and got stopped cold. It turns out that our Windows operating system is two systems behind the minimum needed to operate an iPod, our USB port is too slow, etc. I asked the pterodactyl inside the hard drive for help, but couldn't hear his answer over the wooly mammoth vacuum cleaner.
BTW, in case you were wondering, yes, I felt very old just buying the damn thing. Even the bag made me feel bad; it is designed to be worn like a backpack, unless you look like me. Then it is designed to be carried awkwardly in both hands, like a combination of nuclear waste and a present for the grandkids.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Get ur Freak on...
I don't review many books on this blog, but I should, so I thought I'd start with a book I finished on the train yesterday. Freakonomics, by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner, is an odd ride through the correlation between seemingly unconnected events in our world. I was impressed that they even tried to connect the dots between things as (seemingly) disparate as Roe v. Wade's impact on crime years later, and while I think they jump to several unsubstantiated conclusions with the greatest of ease, I enjoyed the writing style and moved through it quickly. I will share also that there is little to no "hard" economics, so if you are a math-phobe like me, you'll be just fine.
Since I'm an ex-teacher, I'll go with grades: I give this book a solid B for being thought provoking and entertaining, if a little quick to make assumptions. Good effort.
Since I'm an ex-teacher, I'll go with grades: I give this book a solid B for being thought provoking and entertaining, if a little quick to make assumptions. Good effort.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
The City of Pride and Purpose
I went to visit a client in Richmond yesterday, lately of Coach Carter fame. In the 15-20 minutes it took to drive off the highway and to my client's house, I witnessed the following:
- A large fight down a side street, which looked like it involved at least five young men, arms and legs swinging.
- An almost-fight at the gas station, in which the gentleman in front of me and the cashier got into a huge profanity-laden argument, resulting in the cashier coming out of his bullet-proof booth with a baseball bat, and the gentleman in front of me reaching into his jacket, but then apologizing to me and the two small children behind me in line, turning, and leaving. [cue release of breath]
- Four loud pops in succession (which I am trying hard to pretend were firecrackers), followed a few minutes later by four racing Richmond police cars, three of which pulled into a housing unit, leaving the fourth to park across the entranceway, so no one could get in or out.
When I was in the gas station, the little kids helped me pick out a Vitamin Water (they said I should buy the Formula 50, because Fifty Cent [or, as I call him, "Fiddy"] advertises it). They were adorable, and very pleased that I made the right choice (btw, Fiddy makes a pretty good drink). I thought of them when I got back on the highway later and realized that I got to leave. They have to live there.
Monday, July 25, 2005
The Big Rake
We went to Vegas last weekend to celebrate a good friend's birthday, and we also managed to play in a poker tournament at the Luxor. Fantastic! The low-down:
It was a "freeze out" tournament, which means once you bought in, you played until you ran out of chips, and then you're out: no re-buys, no do-overs. For $33 in real money, each player received $350 in "poker" chips, meaningless blank chips you couldn't walk out with and cash in anywhere. We started with around 120 players (9 tables, 12 people per table, plus a lot of "alternates" who filled in the first openings as people went out in the first round).
I did well: made it to somewhere in the top 20, down to three half-full tables, but didn't get into the money (you had to make 7th and up for $). The star of the show, however, was my amazing wife, who was down to her last two chips, and then went on an "all-in" explosion, winning the next four hands and knocking out about 7 players in the process. She not only made the final table, she not only made top 7, she knocked out several more players and eventually went "heads up" against the only other player, eventually losing out on a final all-in.
Very exciting stuff! The Big Rake proves her Vegas dominance (2nd Vegas tournament, 2nd final table) once again, and wins enough money to make our new dining room table a reality! WSOP, here we come!
It was a "freeze out" tournament, which means once you bought in, you played until you ran out of chips, and then you're out: no re-buys, no do-overs. For $33 in real money, each player received $350 in "poker" chips, meaningless blank chips you couldn't walk out with and cash in anywhere. We started with around 120 players (9 tables, 12 people per table, plus a lot of "alternates" who filled in the first openings as people went out in the first round).
I did well: made it to somewhere in the top 20, down to three half-full tables, but didn't get into the money (you had to make 7th and up for $). The star of the show, however, was my amazing wife, who was down to her last two chips, and then went on an "all-in" explosion, winning the next four hands and knocking out about 7 players in the process. She not only made the final table, she not only made top 7, she knocked out several more players and eventually went "heads up" against the only other player, eventually losing out on a final all-in.
Very exciting stuff! The Big Rake proves her Vegas dominance (2nd Vegas tournament, 2nd final table) once again, and wins enough money to make our new dining room table a reality! WSOP, here we come!
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Safeway sociological experiment
I have been shopping at the same Safeway grocery store for the past 3+ years. Yesterday, I inadvertently conducted an experiment. My data:
Normal shopping experience (the "control," right?) :
Normal shopping experience (the "control," right?) :
- Time: usually Saturday AM
- Wearing: t-shirt and jeans
- Buying: same old stuff
- Employee reaction: over the years, I usually am greeted upon entering, but am otherwise ignored. Also, in all of this time, I think I have NOT bagged my own groceries maybe twice (even though there are actual baggers working).
Yesterday's shopping experience:
- Time: Tuesday PM
- Wearing: navy pinstripe suit, blue dress shirt, blue/lavender tie (came straight from work)
- Buying: same old stuff
- Employee reaction: I was greeted several times, asked by five different employees if I "needed any help finding everything," and was additionally asked by four different employees if they could "help me." At checkout, a bagger not only left a different lane to bag my groceries, but I was additionally asked by two other baggers if I needed help out to my car.
Conclusion: might not be worth the dry-cleaning bill, but dressing up for the grocery store certainly get results!
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Why I hate Suburban Dad
As I head into my second month of the new job, I am realizing that the length of my commute home has little to do with train schedules, possible BART strikes, or weather, but instead one overriding factor: is there a Giants game tonight? Because if there is, Suburban Dad is going to slow me down.
Suburban Dad never takes transit, instead driving to work in his SUV and paying for parking. Suburban Dad, therefore, has no "commuter courtesy." What this means is that Suburban Dad, riding BART for the first time with Bored Wife and Anxious Kids (all in matching brand-new Giants hats they picked up at the mall), likes to stand in the middle of the train platform and stare at the map, too afraid to ask for help or directions, but apparently not afraid to block the way for others who know where they are going. Suburban Dad stands in the middle of the escalator, because it's a ride, right? Suburban Dad assumes everybody else is going to the baseball game and not trying to go home, and so stands in front of the turnstyle, fumbling for his unused ticket, instead of standing aside so people can get past him.
In short, Suburban Dad is a jerk and a nuisance, but worst of all, Suburban Dad doesn't know that he's a jerk and a nuisance because he's too self-absorbed to turn his head slightly to the left and realize there are other people on the train with him, people who don't give a rat's ass that he's using the firm's tickets with his family instead of clients for the first time in years.
Not that I'm irritated or anything...
Suburban Dad never takes transit, instead driving to work in his SUV and paying for parking. Suburban Dad, therefore, has no "commuter courtesy." What this means is that Suburban Dad, riding BART for the first time with Bored Wife and Anxious Kids (all in matching brand-new Giants hats they picked up at the mall), likes to stand in the middle of the train platform and stare at the map, too afraid to ask for help or directions, but apparently not afraid to block the way for others who know where they are going. Suburban Dad stands in the middle of the escalator, because it's a ride, right? Suburban Dad assumes everybody else is going to the baseball game and not trying to go home, and so stands in front of the turnstyle, fumbling for his unused ticket, instead of standing aside so people can get past him.
In short, Suburban Dad is a jerk and a nuisance, but worst of all, Suburban Dad doesn't know that he's a jerk and a nuisance because he's too self-absorbed to turn his head slightly to the left and realize there are other people on the train with him, people who don't give a rat's ass that he's using the firm's tickets with his family instead of clients for the first time in years.
Not that I'm irritated or anything...
Saturday, June 18, 2005
The last lesson my father taught me
I buried my father last week. He was 62. I shouldn't need a wake up call to get in better shape, but this is certainly a loud one.
The last meaningful conversation we had was when we both flew to California for my grandfather's/his father's funeral in 1998. We met on the porch the night I got into town, did that awkward hug/slap on the back that men do, and then sat down and actually talked for the first time in several years. He shared with me that he had never been close to his father, that they too hadn't spoken in years, that they were friendly, but never friends. He told me he was hesitant to speak at his father's funeral because he really didn't feel like he knew him very well, and didn't want to dishonor his father's memory nor embarrass himself with a lack of information. Then he paused, and for the first time that evening actually looked me in the eyes. I thought, finally...here it comes. My dad is going to let his guard down, speak to me as an equal rather than a subordinate, and admit that he was sorry that we had perpetuated the cycle. Then I could do the same. He opened his mouth and said, "Well, good to see you, we should go to bed." That was the last time we spoke.
At the time I was angry at the perceived irony and hypocrisy, but I am starting to wonder if that was as close as he could come to admitting he had been wrong, and that I probably should have taken the lead and admitted my share of the guilt as well. That never happened, and now never will.
Sorry for the heavy note heading into Father's Day this weekend, but if your dad is still around, please, learn from our mistakes.
The last meaningful conversation we had was when we both flew to California for my grandfather's/his father's funeral in 1998. We met on the porch the night I got into town, did that awkward hug/slap on the back that men do, and then sat down and actually talked for the first time in several years. He shared with me that he had never been close to his father, that they too hadn't spoken in years, that they were friendly, but never friends. He told me he was hesitant to speak at his father's funeral because he really didn't feel like he knew him very well, and didn't want to dishonor his father's memory nor embarrass himself with a lack of information. Then he paused, and for the first time that evening actually looked me in the eyes. I thought, finally...here it comes. My dad is going to let his guard down, speak to me as an equal rather than a subordinate, and admit that he was sorry that we had perpetuated the cycle. Then I could do the same. He opened his mouth and said, "Well, good to see you, we should go to bed." That was the last time we spoke.
At the time I was angry at the perceived irony and hypocrisy, but I am starting to wonder if that was as close as he could come to admitting he had been wrong, and that I probably should have taken the lead and admitted my share of the guilt as well. That never happened, and now never will.
Sorry for the heavy note heading into Father's Day this weekend, but if your dad is still around, please, learn from our mistakes.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
So...tired...can't...make...coherent...sentences...
Well, the first week at the new job is over, just in time for a three-day weekend...and I am exhausted! I think a lot of it is going to be just getting into the flow of waking up early and getting into a schedule again, but it is already almost 11:30 this morning, and I have barely managed to keep my eyes open long enough to clothe and feed myself. Sad.
This week has also highlighted my turn to the Dark Side, my willing obeisance to my Dark Lord, the coffee bean. So far, I haven't fallen into the trap of the afternoon cup, but I need a couple cups in the morning if I have any chance of making it to noon, let alone the end of the day. I tried going a day without, and the slicing headache that ensued brought me back in line and reminded me who's boss.
What is your bidding, my master?
This week has also highlighted my turn to the Dark Side, my willing obeisance to my Dark Lord, the coffee bean. So far, I haven't fallen into the trap of the afternoon cup, but I need a couple cups in the morning if I have any chance of making it to noon, let alone the end of the day. I tried going a day without, and the slicing headache that ensued brought me back in line and reminded me who's boss.
What is your bidding, my master?
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Happy Birthday, Gluttony!
Today, our good friend celebrates his 100th birthday, and due to the exceedingly fickle American consumer's obsession with the concept of newer-is-better, he doesn't look a day over 3. At least, the parts of him I visit.
Sorry we couldn't be there to celebrate with you, old friend. Hope you got our card and gift certificate to the Olive Garden, and here's to our neon-bright future together!
Sorry we couldn't be there to celebrate with you, old friend. Hope you got our card and gift certificate to the Olive Garden, and here's to our neon-bright future together!
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
New spring outfit
My friend Jen updated the look and feel of her blog; very cool, and since this site is listed in her links, I think the least I can do is divert your attention her way.
By the way, I am not sure if the "565" in the upper left corner is some sort of counter, just there to look cool, or some DaVinci Code-esque clue that will unlock the secrets of the Sacred Feminine (i.e. my code name for that group of 40ish women I used to teach with who always wore shiny jogging suits). Take your pick.
By the way, I am not sure if the "565" in the upper left corner is some sort of counter, just there to look cool, or some DaVinci Code-esque clue that will unlock the secrets of the Sacred Feminine (i.e. my code name for that group of 40ish women I used to teach with who always wore shiny jogging suits). Take your pick.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Regis and his Cruise to Hell
If you are into this sort of thing, below are the five clues you need to enter the Cruisin' Reunion contest on Live with Regis and Kelly. If you win, you and your 19 closest friends and family members go on a week-long cruise with thousands of other families...and Regis. I guess they needed one more cranky old person on a cruise ship...?
Anyway, here are the clues:
Anyway, here are the clues:
- Horn
- Button
- Relly
- Sing
- Surprise
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Viva el Cinco de Mayo!
Monday, May 02, 2005
My civic duty...finally...
I have been unemployed for a long time. Depending on your point of view, it has been either five months, a year, or four long years. I prefer the first option, but that is still a l o n g time.
So imagine my ironic chuckle (no, it was a little louder than that) when, last week, I got a notice for jury duty starting May 23...the Monday I start my new job! Funny, sad, a chance to make $15 a day; take your pick.
Anyway, I just got off the phone with them, and they have an option to serve early. I am not doing much for the next couple weeks, so why not? Maybe they'll even pick me; it would be interesting to see the view from the box. If you're downtown Monday afternoon, I'll see you then!
So imagine my ironic chuckle (no, it was a little louder than that) when, last week, I got a notice for jury duty starting May 23...the Monday I start my new job! Funny, sad, a chance to make $15 a day; take your pick.
Anyway, I just got off the phone with them, and they have an option to serve early. I am not doing much for the next couple weeks, so why not? Maybe they'll even pick me; it would be interesting to see the view from the box. If you're downtown Monday afternoon, I'll see you then!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
