Archive for December, 2006
Christmas Day I worked on a crossword from the Washington Post. It wasn’t an especially festive puzzle. The theme was a lot of large words or phrases that included “Bah” (as in “Bah, Humbug!”) in them.
One of the clues was for a song by The Clash. As luck would have it, that song is fresh in my mind because it is featured in Cingular (?) commercial. One guy downloaded the song to his cell phone and he and his buddy argue over the words. They both have them completely mangled– one guy even singing about a “cat box”
I did think the commercial was amusing, but I thought they should have picked a different song. It was way too obvious what the words really were. They should have picked a song where the words were more ambigious.
Back to Christmas Day, I smugly filled in “ROCKTHECASTLE” and moved on with the puzzle. But, something was wrong. I had all sorts of struggles with related sections of the puzzle. Finally, just to outrule what I thought was a very small possibility, I consulted the Internet about the song title.
And…it was at this point, I decided the Cingular producers did pick a good song for their the premise afterall. I had fallen into the same trap as the guys on the commericial. Even though in my crossword, I knew I needed BAH in the title. And most embarassingly, even though the commercial actually shows the song title at the end.
Sometimes, I guess it’s just hard to compete with first impressions.
(Want me to tie this into ISO 9000 and quality management? The conclusion shows the importance of having clean work areas and facilities when the auditor comes. If the auditor’s first impression is the office is in disorder, it is easier for him/her to believe your processes and procedures will be in the same state)
On Sunday, Mom, Dad, Sean and I went to see Night At the Musuem in the theatre. I was very much looking forward to this outing. One of my life’s great pleasures is sitting next to my father during a good comedy. His laughter is so hearty and loud, that it’s infectious. You can’t help but laugh yourself. I had specifically requested to be seated by Dad. Somehow this wasn’t communicated to anyone but Mom, so when we got to the theatre, there was an awkward shuffling and offset of seats until we finally got situated. Mom-Dad-Me-Sean. We were good to go.
It turns out there was a problem. Night at the Musuem, it turns out, isn’t particuarly funny. It’s amusing enough and entertaining and cute– but just not that comedic. In fact, throughout the whole movie, I only heard my father snicker at one item (How Sacajawea tracked down the van). I did not get to hear my father cackle and that alone made the movie a disappointment to me.
But I do not go home empty handed from his trip. For Christmas, Carolyn and I got Dad “Da Ali G Show – Da Compleet Seereez” for Christmas. It was a good bet. In the summer of 2005, Dad watched some episodes with me and loved it. And he continues to have praise for the Borat movie. As late as Christmas dinner he was declaring Borat to be the best movie he’s ever seen. He also likes to claim he had to go to the hospital for a hernia after the film.
Tonight, Dad, two neighbors, Cody and I watched 3 episodes of Season 1. I sat next to Dad, ate popcorn and listened to him laugh. Just as good a movie theatre.
My Christmas is now complete. 🙂
This afternoon, my mother and I took our four collective dogs down to Leesylvania State Park for a “hike”. Very few people were at the park, which was helpful for us… since we had four dogs to control!
Although it was right in the middle of winter, the area was beautiful and we enjoyed the sites. We took the Bushey Point Trail which took us along the shores of the Potomac River and Powells Creek.
Right as we started back, a peaceful drizzle of rain begun.
“I like this kind of light rain,” I told my mother, “Because it makes my hair curl.”
Mom started to comment on how people like the opposite of what they have and cited my cousin Louise who straightens her naturally curly hair. Then, as if to spite me, the weather changed drastically. The rain started POURING!!!! We picked up our pace to head back to the car. Mom had a little extra challenge. Her dogs kept stopping, so they could shake the water off. A lot of good that did.
By the time we got to the car, everyone (human and canine) was soaked, which meant Mom’s newly cleaned car got soaked as well:
Luckily, I was traveling with a good spirited woman. My mother took everything in stride– the rain, the wet car, the traffic home. I think, maybe, just maybe, she’ll accompany me on an an outing again.
This year, Sean and I spent Christmas with my parents in Occoquan, Virginia. We had a lot of precipitation but it was far from a White Christmas. More like a grey, dreary, muddy Christmas. But inside, it was jolly and warm and definitely felt like a holiday.
Our dinner was well attended. Aunt Maria, Uncle Timmy, Sam, Frank and Grandma came as usual. Then Uncle Mark and New Denise attended as well. Add that to me, Mom, Dad, Sean, Carolyn and Clint– we had a total of thirteen people for dinner. Having four barking dogs on hand to greet the arriving guests (including a 92 year old woman) didn’t seem to be the wisest decision. So Moon and Sunny were sequestered to the surburban and Jimmie got to experience the comfort of the XTerra. Henry is so little and helpless, he got to have free reign of the house. He spent most of the time watching my father carve the turkey, just waiting for some kind of mishap to occur that would end up with food on the floor (Henry’s Christmas wish did not come true).
After all the guests were settled and dinner was ingested, Dad went to fetch the larger dogs. His success rate was 50%. He returned with one dog in his custody, Moon. Sunny had bolted away and escaped Dad’s grasp.
It was up to Carolyn, Sam and I to seek out and capture Sunny. We went out into the dark cold rain to start our adventure. We were armed with nothing but our humor, a plate of turkey scrapes and the surburban keys. The sun had set long ago, so we had very little light to work with. We drove up and down Occoquan Road with the windows rolled down, calling Sunny’s name. Cold rain dusted our faces and arms as we squinted and scanned the surrounding streets for a goofy silhouette with a curly tail. We had very little luck. We decided to take one more pass, which failed as well.
Defeated, we were returning to our house when suddenly Carolyn aptly demostrated why Lasix is a good investment and yelled, “An overturned trashcan! He’s there!”
We pulled in and sure enough, Sunny had taken it upon himself to knock over a neighbor’s trashcan and was having his own holiday feast (one little Henry would covet). Carolyn ran out and snatched him. And then it was time to do something no one expected to do on Christmas day. Sam, Carolyn and I stood out in the cold, winter rain and cleaned up a stranger’s trash. A stranger’s soggy trash at that!
“Could this get any better?!?” I asked myself as I peeled a wet receipt off the asphalt.
Well, apparently for Carolyn, it could! As I transported that piece of trash to the now righted can, I had a collision. The trash hit Carolyn in the back of the head and thanks to its ample moisture— it stuck there! Hair accessories are often common stocking stuffers for Christmas. I guess I kept that theme going. What better way to accessorize than to have someone else’s garbage embellish your hair?
Carolyn took the mishap in good humor. Actually, she may be used to my poor aim. In elementary school, I tried to throw a rawhide bone for a dog and ended up hitting Carolyn in the face instead. In that incident, she was required to get a series of stitches. At least this time, all she needed was a vigorous shampooing!
Sam, Carolyn and I got soaked, but we did have our fair share of laughs. It was so much fun, I’m thinking we should do this every year. Sound good to you, Carolyn?
When I lived in the dorms in college, letter writing was more mainstream than it is today. That’s a sign of the times– it was before email had really taken hold. Checking mail was always a highlight of the day, going down to the lobby and getting letters from my family or my high school friends. Well one day a little pink slip showed up in my box. It turned out someone sent me a letter with insufficient postage. My instructions were to come to the Post Office near University Mall to pay the debt in exchange for the letter. I did not have a car at the time, so I believe me and Brian Nenninger and possibly Alex Moskwa spent an evening learning all about the BT so we could take a bus out to the post office. I don’t remember what the letter ended up being, but I do clearly remember it not being worth the journey.
A little later in the year, Alex started getting mysterious voicemail messages. Some clever guys in his dorm dubbed Alex “Swamp Thing” and would leave ground breaking, late night messages such as, “Hey Swamp Thing, You Reek. You Reek, Swamp Thing!” We always got a kick out of listening to the messages especially when the calculated pranksters forgot their extension was being appended to the message. 🙂
Brian and I excelled at silly projects to entertain ourselves in the wee hours of the night. For example, one time we took it open ourselves to decorate a forgotten bulletin board on the fourth floor of our dorm with information for the Virginia Tech Pencil Twirling Club. Another time, we left message to a….well, very promiscious, female friend of ours on the ceiling of the study lounge. It pretty much read, “Hi <name of girl>, On Your Back Again?” It took a while, but she did finally found our message and interestingly enough, she was in the company of a male when she found it. 😉
Well one evening, Brian and I decided to target Alex with our boredom. At the time, we were pretty infatuated with a symbol font similiar to Wing Dings. This particular font included a skull and crossbones image. So one night, we printed out a page full of little skulls (think Font Size 6 or smaller) and then lovingly cut out each and every one of those skulls. Next we generated a letter to Alex. It started off with “HEY SWAMP THING!” then we used our favorite symbol font to articulate a simple message. Below is a quick reenactment:
This is another sign of the changing times. This letter was pretty innocent and funny. I think nowadays a letter such as this would not be viewed so lightly.
Anyway, we put all those tiny, recently liberated skulls into the letter, folded it up and then we mailed it without a stamp. So our thought was Alex would get the pink message about the letter would have to take the bus all the way to the Post Office, pay the postage and open it to find our goofy message AND as a final slight when he opened it, all the tiny little skulls would scatter all over the place making a mess. It was a brilliant plan.
Unfortunately, the three of us always hung out at Brian’s dorm room to watch TV, eat sweets and play Doom on the computer. Alex was on Brian’s computer and noticed a weird file called “SwampThing”. So before Alex could ever receive the notification about the letter, the “surprise” was ruined.
This week, thanks to my delays at O’Hare airport, I didn’t quite have much time to get myself situated before returning to the office and leaving town for the Christmas holiday. As I rushed around yesterday getting everything situated for my next trip, I took the very last batch of Christmas cards down to my mailbox. I managed to get them there just in time– a little while later the mailman came by and exchanged our outgoing cards for a couple of incoming cards and a bill.
A couple of hours and roughly a hundred miles later, a realization suddenly struck me. I addressed every envelope, I sealed every envelope and affixed a bland return address label on each one. BUT…. I never stamped the latest batch of cards!
Please, please, please, please, please, please, Post Office. Please tell me you’ve changed your policy about making the recipient pay for the missing postage.
That last batch of Christmas cards contain a lot of people I don’t know that well. They are recipients through marriage– Sean’s extended family and childhood friends. Although I’m sure the recipients would not have to take a public transportation trek to the post office, I seriously don’t think it would be a worthwhile investment.
Hi! You don’t know me! I married someone you barely know! Listen to how I hiked in Colorado and Tennesee this year whether you are interested or not. Oh yeah, one more thing– please pay 39 cents for the privilege of reading this.
Maybe this is yet another sign of the changing times. What was good and amusing in college, is a bit of an embarassment now. What was good for the Swamp Thing, is certainly not fitting for Christmas Cards.
It looked grim many times throughout the day, but I made it home. I had two flights. The first was delayed three hours which would normally put my connecting flight in jeopardy. That’s okay because my connecting flight was delayed for six hours! When he was imprisoned, Huey Newton filled his solitary time by keeping busy. He kept his mind active while fleshing out some principles and concepts for the Black Panther Party. He kept his body active by doing situps. He read. He wrote letters. He kept busy.
A crowded airport may feel at times like a prison, but I know it is far from it. Nonetheless, I tried to take a Huey Newton approach to my ever growing stay at O’Hare Airport. I tried to stay active. I worked on journal entries. I read the paper (It said 14% of Americans can not identify our country on a map!). I did two crossword puzzles (sort of– I did not get very far on the New York Times Puzzle, but I did kick ass in USA Today’s puzzle). I finally bought a roll of stamps, thanks to a full Post Office at O’Hare Airport. I did a few text messages. Finally, I got a number of Christmas cards done.
At least three strangers saw me working on my Christmas cards and marvelled how that was a good idea. Two of them also had Christmas Cards to work on….but had it in their checked luggage. To that I say, “Suckers!” 🙂
For the most part, I was impressed by all the passengers’ good humour and demeanor despite all the delays, changing gates and frustratingly vague annoncements. But, of course, there were still the people who felt entitled and had that “It should be all about *me* and all about what *I* want” syndrome. When we finally got on a plane from Chicago to Roanoke, the two rows behind me spent most of the flight home talking about all the things the airline “owed” them. It ranged from extra snacks to free alcohol to extra air miles to a full fare refund.
Yeah, the airline should definitely be liable for the weather. It serves the airlines right for putting trivial concerns such as, well, safety of the passengers and the well being of the crew, ahead of posted departure times.
You definitely see the best and worst of mankind at airports. Luckily, I would still say I saw more of the “best” than the “worst” today.
Tonight is my last night at the Hotel at Old Town in Wichita. I’m really enjoying the hotel. Some of the amenities I haven’t quite used– like the full fridge, dishwaster and stove that reside in my room. But some of the items, I really find fascinating. Tonight, I walked through all the floors of the hotel just to look at and read that captions about the historic photographs hanging on the walls. My walk was accompanied by the sound of a fountain in the lobby and the soothing, live piano music they have every evening until 10 PM. The workout room is top notch here and empty– which makes it even better!
There has been one item that is a bit baffling. That’s the placement of the television. The TV is in a nice hutch enclosed by doors. Pretty typical. But, these doors only open 90 degrees and they don’t slide back into the hutch. As a result, if you aren’t at the right angle, one of the doors is in the way. The last couple of days, I noted the issue while laying in bed. Luckily, all I really am in the market for is listening to Law and Order, so I just roll over and listen away.
This evening, I picked up a meal from a local restaurant so I could enjoy a new episode of King of Queens. I cleaned off the table/desk and discovered that now the other door was obstructing my view. No biggie. I ate where I was at and could still get the gist of Doug Heffernan’s antics.
A little while later, I had to go to the restroom. A perk of staying alone is you don’t have to close the bathroom door. It was then that I discovered the toilet was exactly the right angle to see the TV. You were a little farther away– but neither door was in the way.
I gotta wonder. Was this by design?