Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Cripes..

Today I wanted to do some laundry after work.  So once I finished my shift I changed and left my clothes in my locker as I usually do before I went upstairs to eat my free meal.  Today I chose a delightful cheeseburger and I threw some mango barbecue sauce on it.  HOOOOOO WEEEEEEE.  But in the hoopla of all of that delicious dinner I forgot my clothes in my locker downstairs and just pedaled home.  Sonofabitch.  The kicker was I NEEDED to do laundry today: my shit stank.  It was already a couple of days overdue so I really wasn't comfortable stretching any longer.  I only like to do laundry on day shift days or days I have off, because I don't like to do laundry late in the evening when I generally just want to go to sleep and I always feel like a dick that the washing machine and/or dryer may be keeping someone awake, and I also don't want to put the pressure on and have to get up in the morning to wash my gear before work.  So where I got home around seven I just hopped back on my two wheeler and cruised back down to Hula in back.  A little extra exercise has never hurt anyone but at the same time that shit took damn near 45 minutes.  Walk outside.  Unlock bike.  Get music situated.  Ride.  Get to Hula.  Lock up bike.  Walk to get stank ass clothes.  Get stank ass clothes.  Walk to bike.  Unlock bike.  Pedal home.  Lock bike back up.  Jeeze.  It's a tough life I lead.

--

It's been a full moon out here which I think means it's a full moon damn near everywhere but I enjoy riding quite a bit once the moon has come up high.  Saturday and Sunday nights I worked late so I was rolling home around eleven and the moon was super high and super bright and I could see the neighboring island of Molokai quite clearly.  It was pretty impressive with the waves rolling in and whatnot.  Was a pretty good treat.  Then tonight when I rolled home the first time around seven it was dark as shit, but when I was rolling the second time, from a little after eight until about 9, it was getting brighter and brighter as the moon got higher and higher.  So while the need for a second ride irritated me, the view was much better the second time around.  So, lucky me?

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NASCAR's Sprint Cup season came to a close this past Sunday with Jimmie Johnson winning his fifth consecutive title.  Sam Thomas is a big #48 fan.  Well, claims to be.  I bet his sorry ass didn't watch more than one race all year long.  And the guy is from Virginia.  Note to SThomas: You're a jerk.  SMOKE in '11 BABAYYYYYYYYY.

But on the NASCAR front here's a video of Daytona being repaved.  It's more or less like paving a regular road except the whole track is banked so the equipment has to be hung on the correct angles by cranes and other serious machinery.  It's pretty damn technical for some shit ass, redneck sport.
Excuse me while I crack open a tall, cool Budweiser to honor of this display of hillbilly ingenuity.  Cheers (This surface lasted fifty years and then they  tore up and repaved it in nineteen weeks.  Private project vs public project, much?  Fuck you, government.  Take a god damn note and stop wasting my tax dollars with slow ass crews.  All the government should be doing is paving roads and protecting our borders, anyway.  GET YOUR GUNS READY, FOLKS.  THE END IS NEAR!!!!!!  K, I got carried away [Takes deep breath.  "Three two one.  One two three.  What the heck is bothering me?"  Ah, good.  Let's proceed]...but I still thought the timeline compared to the scale of the project was impressive..).

Monday, November 22, 2010

Joke in the form of a question..

How many Vietnam vets does it take to screw in a light bulb?  Click to continue and you will receive the answer to the question..

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Throwback..

Well, I was going to throw it back.  Then I came across this:
Enjoy your Sundays, folks.  Cheers.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

I guess there are some things you just don't skimp on..

I eat peanut butter sangwiches a lot (We've been over this before.  Open faced, one side peanut butter, one side jelly or jam or fluff.  Then folded together.  I call it a bullet.  It tastes just like it smells: DELICIOUS..).  I never skimp on peanut butter.  It's always a name brand, generally with Jif being my favorite.  I wait until it goes on sale and then I scoop a couple and go from there.  It's especially nice when it's two for three dollars, but I'll take two for $4 in a pinch when I need that shit, maaaaaaan.  Today Smucker's strawberry jam was on sale - the first time I've seen a big jar of Smucker's on sale since I've been out here.  So I picked up one and finally got around to making a sangwich bullet just right now.

I may never go back.  This stuff is incredible.  It's so much goddam better than the generic strawberry preserves crap I've been buying since I got out here.  The sale ends tomorrow so I'm headed back in the AM to get another two or three big jars.  I mean, my mind is blown right now.  It is SO. DAMN. GOOD.  I can't believe I had been selling my peanut butter sangwiches short for this long.  Yes, a lot of it had to do with price but now I'm nervous I may never go back.  Today I was shooting the shit with one of our bartenders before I started to work and he had just recently gotten back from Japan and he was talking about the Kobe beef they serve and how it's kind of ruined steak for him since he's been back.  Hula has a steak special once a week that's a 24oz. dry aged rib eye, a cowboy steak, if you will.  I've had it and he asked my opinion as I've had it before a little while back and he was going to try it for the first time tonight and I told him it was pretty good.  That immediately ruined it for him.  I haven't heard his verdict but he was going into things a bit sourly.  He wanted me to say GREAT.  But it wasn't great; it was pretty good.  It's listed at $40 or something like that so for a $40 steak I thought it was pretty good.  For the $20 I paid for it I suppose it was a delicious and tasty steak.  Close to great.  But I'm sure it's no Kobe.  I'd like to say it wasn't up to Mac's snuff, either, but that could just be me being a homer.  When I was home my folks and I got some take out and we got some kind of "bullet" or "bb's" appetizer that was tip steak wrapped in bacon.  Let me tell you: they were tremendous.  Bacon makes everything about 1000000% better.  I bet if you took some doggie poo poo and wrapped it in bacon it would at least be palatable.  Sloat: try this out and let me know your thoughts.

ANYWAYS now that I've refreshed the Smucker's taste buds I'm not sure if my peanut butter sangwiches will ever match up to today's without Smucker's on the right side, playing STRONG SIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! to the peanut butter's LEFT SIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Maybe I'm just overcooking my own grits here.  Shit, who am I kidding, I'll still buy whatever's cheapest when all my jars of Smucker's are gone.

When I was smaller and younger we'd pick fruits and then make our own strawberry, blueberry and raspberry jams or jellies or whatever.  I know there's a distinction between jams, jellies, and preserves but I don't recall now what the hell the differences are.  I think it has to do with texture and straining or something or that nature.  Marmalade, too.  But we never made marmalade so that's a whole separate can of words.  But I'd always try to add extra sugar to the recipes.  I think all kids do that.  When I'd make Kool-Aid I'd sugar the shit out of it.  It was like Fun Dip at the bottom of your glass.  Ah, memories.  Cheers "(and time for another delicious peanut butter and jam sangwich before bed!!!!!).

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Kindergarten throwback..


I was logged into facebook a couple of days ago and I happened to see someone had their profile picture as David the Gnome riding on the back of his friend Fox (or whatever that particular fox was named on the show; I don't recall it..) and I was brought back to five year old me, still picking my nose and peeing my pants every now and again (I guess old habits die hard..) but ALWAYS watching David the Gnome on Nickelodeon.  This was classic children's television at it's finest.  And Tom Bosely as David?  What the shit?  That let's you know it was ahead of it's time.

Sad to say, as I was watching this video right before posting I still remembered half the words.  I don't think I've seen the show in well over fifteen years and the last time I heard the theme was probably early on in high school when I was trying to appear clever by downloading the song in Sloat's basement.

After today, however, we'll all be able to remember the last time we watched an episode:

I googled "the gnome" as that's the title of the book the show is based on as I finished up Watership Down a couple of weeks ago and I thought another tale of little woodland creatures may prove interesting.  No book came up immediately so I clicked on David the Gnome's wiki page and learned that this is actually a spanish show dubbed into english.  I think that makes it even better though I'm not sure why.

Good to see the Spaniards were pioneers in the children's television industry in the 80's.  Muy Bueno!  Cheers "(On an unrelated related note for the longest time I thought kindergarten was spelled kindergarden.  I mean a long time.  Well into high school, at least.  What, you grow kids into elementary school, right?  I guess I'm not as smart as I think I am sometimes..).

Monday, November 15, 2010

HOW THE HELL DID I FORGET THIS?!?!

It appears in all of my late-October concerting and wedding-attending and westward traveling and starting back to working I totally forgot that the 'Pad's two year anniversary occurred on October 30th at about 8:30pm east coast time.  This was a Thursday and shortly before I headed to Gipper's for their weekly after 9pm roll-back beer prices.  Some things haven't really changed that much.  I guess you could say my first post was sort of a mission statement of sorts:
I really have nothing better to do these days. I lead a fairly uneventful and simple life, but let's see if I can lie cheat and steal my way into interesting. I look forward to the challenge. Let me know your thoughts. And grammatical and spelling errors. Those really grind my gears. Cheers.
Uneventful is all relative, I suppose, but I'm pretty certain I've done an OK job of sticking to my guns as far as where I started, where I've gone, and where I'll continue to go (spelling errors be damned; it became far too much work to re-read before posting...we're all friends here, right?).  I appreciate that people read but at the same time this is as much for my own enjoyment as it is for you few folks there that get off at the "My Yellow NotePad" exit on the information superhighway from time to time (It'll always be Exit 12 in my eyes.  Dated folks in the 207 I hope you remember those simpler times and smile.  Writing that put a smile on my face and a glisten in my eye..).  If it wasn't for the people I care about who read this to keep tabs on me I'd have about thirty three hits from Asia right now.  I'm not always PC.  I don't always hit the ball out of the park when it comes to my commentary.  I probably use far too many commas.  As well as providing an overabundance of "I guess" I suppose" and "but anyways."


But anyways after a spotty few months I think I'm back in the right mindset for regular posting.  This is post number 95 for the year.  I know there's no way I'll get anywhere close to the near-200 show I put on in the year to close the decade but I'm looking to settle back into a routine of 3-5 posts a week with a couple being short and sweet videos or links or just random shit I've stumbled upon and a couple more being of my garden variety "this happened" or "this is what I think" or "let me elaborate for the folks at home."  I don't know if I still have the power to put asses in the seats like I used to; I feel some of you may still be jaded from the disinterest I showed over the last three or four or five or, hell, I don't know how long it's been since I even got ten posts up in a month.  But, god dammit, this head has thoughts in it and I might as well get as many of them out there before we're taken over by China and chained up in barns for years and this happens (Don't click the link unless you want to throw up in your mouth a little.  I feel ill just thinking about posting it and I apologize in advance.  But, you know China will be knocking on our door one day, right?  So keep buying on credit, folks...by then I'll be holed up on my homestead, good lord willin'..).


For those of you who are new to the game and want to kill some time scroll back through my "turned pages," an archive of blogs past.  Somewhere around late October or early November I did a one year anniversary tribute blog that contained some fan favorites.  Clicking on a year will give you the whole year on a page, clicking on a month will give you the whole month on a page, clicking on a title will give you that particular post and only that particular post.  Most of the time I black out (figuratively, I don't often drink and blog.  BWI can lead to improper grammar and usage as well as a high probability of spelling errors) and forget what I wrote about so this may even be good for me.  I hope I haven't repeated myself a lot.  That would just be shitty all the way around.


As I've said for quite some time, as long as you keep reading I'll keep writing.  So thanks again for sticking with me and here's to many more postings of inconsequential instances of silly thought.  Cheers.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

[W]rap..

Another week in the books. I have a little weekly calendar Ma gave me that I use to write my schedule down in. All the scheduling is done online and I still check it daily (pretty much every time I fire my machine up to find the on-ramp to the information superhighway which is usually more than once a day but whatever..) but I still write it down every week. I have paydays written in there, too. Because I'm an anal-retentive dork. But the calendar has a little ribbon that is sewn into the binding and acts as a bookmark so it's always nice to turn the page on weeks after my last shift. Earlier in the summertime this would sometimes happen on Thursdays, and let me tell you in case you don't know: It feels GREAT to end a week on a Thursday. UN-BE-LIEVABLE. Since I've gotten back this has happened on Saturday once, then Friday, and this week Saturday again. One day weekends are pretty lame but sometimes I've got to work to live the lifestyle I've become accustomed to.

--

Both times I've headed back out here Ma has stuck a little note in my effects along with a small bit of spending monies. The notes are sweet. The money certainly isn't necessary but I've yet to find the note before I've left the state so once it crosses state lines I consider un-gifting in poor taste so I find ways to spend it. This time around I was instructed to buy something nice for my new apartment. I bought tequila shots for my roommate and some friends on Halloween. That brought good karma to the place, so in turn thank you, Ma, for allowing me to purchase good karma for my new living situation.

I don't really stress about furniture and that sort of junk. The place came “mostly” furnished with beds in each room and a couple of couches and a TV and a kitchen table (with chairs!!) and enough kitchenware to more or less get by, so about the only thing I kind of could use is a reading lamp and maybe a small fan. However, I've gotten by without those for the last couple of weeks so I don't really see a point in getting them when I've been managing fine without them. For instance, I've needed a soap dish, too. But this time around when I opened a new bar of soap instead of opening it from the side-like I cut the top off. PRESTO: soap dish. You can give me shit about being cheap all you want but it's creative frugality and I'm fairly certain it'll pay off somewhere, somehow down the line. You can write that down.

I guess it's just I see people move out here and then spend A LOT of money to start out. People get here, get settled for a couple of months and everything is gravy and they decide, “Well, I'm here, I might as well ship my car out here as well as a bunch of my home-shit.” Only to see them leave six months later and ship cars and home-shits right back. When all the while they had been getting by fine beforehand without any of that hoopla. To me that's just basic, need-based economics. I don't need a car, ergo I don't buy one and sold mine back home. Some additional comforts are nice, but why not pick up a cheap-ass Maui hoopty for half the price of shipping a car one way? Maybe it's just I don't feel like I need all that much to live comfortably.  Counter to what is certainly an overly consumer-rich culture we have here in the ol' U.S.of A., more is not always better.  Some people poke fun at my bike but biking around is some of the most fun I have out here. It feels like freedom. And that's what America is about, right (I know Dodge says America is about cars AND freedom but fuck that noise..)?  


I'm pretty sure I posted this very early on in the 'Pad's history, circa late 2008, but I believe Time's article on The 100 Challenge should be examined (or reexamined, for those of you who have been here from jump..) by us all.  
"It comes down to the products vs. the promise," says organizational consultant Peter Walsh, who characterizes himself as part contractor, part therapist. "It's not necessarily about the new pots and pans but the idea of the cozy family meals that they will provide. People are finding that their homes are full of stuff, but their lives are littered with unfulfilled promises."
Maybe this is all to say that I've grown quite content with my daily and weekly routines.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

I need a DVD player ASAP..


This has been out of my life for too long.  I think Sunday I'm going to make it happen.

And if this doesn't help get you over the hump then I don't know what will...Cheers.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Stolen photos..

If facebook's good for one thing it's that you can look at other people's photos and represent them as your own as the need arises.  For instance, when you are in Hawaii with your digital camera yet the cord to connect said camera to your computer is 5000 miles away.  So, here are some pictures of the new place and Halloween I "borrowed" from my new roommate, Jon's buddy (and now my buddy), Louis:
Front stoop.  Gonna do me plenty of sitting here.  Already have, actually.  And, of course, my baby Blue..
I don't think "plastic" and "white picket fence" went together in the 50's or whenever the hell white picket fences were in style, but we've got a classy plastic one close by.  Plus a towering view of the ocean and the island of Moloka'i.  It's more impressive in person.  It always is..
My lair.  I offered the master to Louis to be a nice guy.  He, in turn, offered it back to me.  So, I, in turn, took it.  Swell quarters and my own shitter: I really can't ask for much more.

--

In other news I was on Wiki last night looking up random bits of information (if you're ever bored just go to Wiki, pick something to search for, then start reading and click on links that seem interesting within whatever page you're reading.  You can do this for hours.  Well, at least I can..) and ended up learning more about The Black Crowes' The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion, the same album I brought up a week or so ago.  Anyways, did you know this album was the first album in Billboard history to have four (4!!!!) #1 Mainstream Rock hits on it.  Out of ten songs.  Strong?  Nah, quite strong.
And as I do a bit more research now, The Black Crowes are one of two artists to have consecutive #1 songs, and it occurred with two songs from this album.  First "Sting Me," followed immediately by "Remedy."  STP is the other with two songs of of the extra-tasty album Purple, "Vasoline" and "Interstate Love Song," respectively.  Pretty neat, right?
But back to what I found out last night:

The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion was #1 on the Billboard 200 back in '92, and guess what album preceded AND followed it?  A little group known as Kris Kross, with their album Totally Krossed Out.  Yep, "Jump," "Warm It Up," "I Missed The Bus."  This was the first "real" cassette I had ever gotten.  By real, I mean not Raffi or Rick Charette or Disney or that sort of stuff.  It was a Christmas gift from an Aunt.  Auntie got skillz.

I'm pretty hard, right?  Getting a Jermaine Dupri-produced gem ups my "badass quotient" to the n'th degree, if I do say so myself.  

--

Back to the pictures, here are a couple from The [Blackout] Express that was Halloween..

Forgotten news & notes..

I mentioned awhile back that I have, in fact, moved into a new place.  El apart-e-ment-o.  It's no third floor penthouse on Wood St. in the Lew but it's not too shabby, all things considered.  Who am I trying to kid...it's pretty dope.  In a perfect world I'd post some pictures of it but as luck would have it I left the cord that connects my camera to my laptop in Maine.  OOPS!  Guess I need to jet back soon, right??

I noticed I was without a cord after I took a few pictures of Reese's Pieces that I put together in the shape of flowers.  Well, I thought they looked flowery.  I used one brown Pieces for the center and then put three orange and three yellow Pieces around the brown Pieces so it looked like a pretty, colorful flower.  I apparently have way too much time on my hands as I wasn't under the influence of any PED's and I still found this enthralling for a good twenty minutes.  Once I made the flower I had to eat the flower whole, though.  All seven Pieces.  I didn't want to pick petals.  I would have much preferred Peanut Butter M&M's but I'm not sure if Peanut Butter M&M's would match up as well as the Pieces did.  It was quite remarkable, actually.  It was like Mr. Reese himself chose the diameter of his Pieces to require six more Pieces to fit exactly around the circumference of one Pieces.  No, wait.  Chances are this is a math equation and chances are good you could do this with about any circular object, no matter the size, you'd just have more negative space in between the circles that would kind of look triangular.  Triangles in between my petals would look shitty, so I'll stick with my Pieces for art and Peanut Butter M&M's for eat.  I just got geometric on your asses, right there.  But, math majors, help me out.  If you have seven circles of equal diameter if you circle six of them around the seventh it should always fit pretty good, because of pi, right?

I just found the answer using cans of chili and soup.  It's a pretty good fit.  You all can thank me later as I know this has crossed all of your minds many times.  You may now continue with your respective days.

--

I will try to get pictures up sometime soon, some way, somehow.  This place is pretty dope; I wouldn't bullshit and it's not just because I'd been couch surfing for the two-plus months prior to move-in.  We're on the ground floor with an ocean view right out of our front door.  Plus I can lock my bike up right next to our door.  That was the big selling point for me, really.

But, ya, now I actually have places for folks to crash so Samm-o: whenever you want to find that aloha spirit again you've got an open invitation.

Many mahalos also go out to the few folks who still read this and actually check in fairly frequently to see that I commonly go days without posting and even on the off chance I do post I write about fucking Reese's Pieces flowers.  Seriously, though.  They look just like cute little flowers.  Colorful and daisy-like.  But, anyways: YOU'RE ALL INVITED, TOO!  COME JOIN THE PAHHHHTAYYYY!  Cheers.

Friday, November 5, 2010

The Notepad Abides..

Forgot about this one, but the original incarnation of the yellow notepad came in handy during my trip back to the islands. As I think I mentioned before I got delayed quite a bit and had to get pretty creative to make it back to Maui in just one day so each time I was on the phone with an airline representative (The first three or four times this was with United and then finally with Hawaiian to make sure I'd be able to hop the “shuttle” over...or jettle, maybe? Jet-shuttle, get it? Catchy, methinks..) I needed to remember flight times and flight numbers and various other factoids and the yellow notepad came through in the clutch. As did the houndstooth hip pouch. You haters out there can zip it about my bootleg look because as everyone in line was scrambling though their carry ons in hope of coming up with writing implements and paper I had paper, pencils and pens for miles right close by. I was even kind enough to give out two sheets and let someone borrow a pen, too. Good travel karma, right there. A couple people had the iPhones and blackberrys (that's correct pluralization, right? As it's a proper name, not the delicious fruit. I think I'm correct..) but it looked miserable having to hold the phone, say, “Yep, hold on,” take the phone away from their ears, type a couple of letters or numbers or words or whatever, then say “OK, go,” and do it again and again and again. I plopped that phone on in between my shoulder and ear and just wrote away. No delay, no pause. “Yep, yep, yep.” I kick ass. Do not hate on my travel ability. I hate airline travel but I'm skillfully adapting to it. Any travel with windows up is pretty lame, if you ask me.

--

Speaking of old business pertaining to my flight from east to west, while in Chicago awaiting my flight to LAX I had a chance to talk to Clay Matthews' parents for a minute.  Actually, Clay Matthews III's parents, as Clay Matthews' father is Clay Matthews Jr.  Clay Matthews III is a helluva player for the Packers and former USC stud, and his pops was a linebacker in the league for many, many years in the 70's, 80's, & 90's.  Clay Jr.'s brother, Bruce played tackle for nineteen seasons in the league and started close to 300 games in his career.  Never missed a start, either.  First ballot hall of famer, you know, just your average career.  As I look at Clay Jr's wiki page is tells me he played in the 16th most games all time.  Bruce never missed a start in his career and, until BrettFave passes him this season, played in the most games ever by a non kicker/punter.  This family has nothing to sneeze at when it comes to football.  The third Matthews son is a linebacker at Oregon now and they're, oh, #2 in the country right now.  Ho hum.

I knew a a lot more about Bruce than I did about Clay Jr.  I knew Clay Jr. was in the league but I didn't know he had played as long as he did until today.  I guess you learn something new(-ish..) every day.
Speaking of the league: the TV show The League on FX sucks big donkey balls.  I watched the first season and it was kind of funny but the one episode I saw of season 2 was awful.  They had commissioner issues but these issues were decided upon by 5 people.  WHERE THE HELL WAS THE INPUT FROM THE OTHER THREE PEOPLE WHO SUPPOSEDLY PICKED VIA TELEPHONE IN SEASON ONE?!  Trash, if you ask me.  Talk about a plot hole.  Clearly these writers have very little knowledge of the seriousness most long time gamers take their fantasy football.  This shit pisses me off.  If you've only got one good season of ideas don't come back for season 2 and just fill it with fear boners and shit like that.  The fear boner storyline began pretty humorously but lost all steam when the competition for new commissioner came down to a running race watched by the three other people who live close by without any input from the remainder of the league.  Poppycock.  Five-team leagues don't fucking happen.  See?!  I'm swearing over the ridiculousness of this show.  GET IT OFF THE AIR ASAP.  I'd like to burn Craig right now with what he used to do in high school (Hell, may still do, I'll have to ask Nick..) but that's a league-eyes-only matter and not fit for discussion here.  You're lucky I respect the sanctity of our league, Mr. Cormier, Jr.  AS ANY TRUE FANTASY FOOTBALLER WOULD, UNLIKE THE SHMUCKS WHO WRITE FOR THAT BABY TURD EXCUSE FOR A TV SHOW.
But at any rate I was at O'Hare waiting for my connection to LAX having already bumped my LAX-Maui flight to LAX-Honolulu via telephone when I saw this big middle aged dude milling about.  Not out of the ordinary by any stretch at a big airport, I know.  He happened to be standing relatively close to where I was sitting down when the woman he was with turned around and she was wearing a "ROSE BOWL GAME" backpack with "MATTHEWS" embroidered on it.  I had to go over and say hello and demonstrate my knowledge of the Matthews' family.  They were super nice folks.  Still pumped up after Green Bay's dismantling of the BrettFavre disaster a couple of days beforehand.  

They flew economy plus, not first class.  I respected that, too.  

As I was boarding, long after the Matthews' had boarded as they sprung for middle class, a woman came up and asked who it was I was talking to.  I told her and she was super excited because her son played D-line at U Idaho so she knew her son would love to hear about who she was on the plane with.  I envisioned him saying, "Cool, mom..." in a brush off way but knowing deep down he would have liked to have been there.  20-something sons are jerks.  Her son is a high school football coach, so we talked high school fooseball coaching in general for a brief minute, too.  The jet bridge was long, I'm not making it up.  That day was easily more than I had ever spoken in airports in my life, combined, including trips I traveled with other people.  I guess I was in a good mood.  

--

For the past couple of days it's been raining intermittently here.  And by intermittently I mean 90% of the time it is showering, 5% of the time it is raining, and the other 5% the sun is out.  More or less all this means is I get SOAKED on my bike rides.  I need to keep a towel on my bike at all times so when I get to wherever I'm going I can towel off before proceeding inside.  It's not really that bad, I suppose, as it's still 75 out when this is going on.  But I didn't move away from Vacationland to live on a vacation island for it to rain all of the time. This has got to stop ASAP.

People look at me like I'm crazy, too, when I ride around in the rain.  It hardly rains like this here, well, ever, so I'll take 350 days of sunny bike riding and fifteen or so lousy ones all the way to the bank.  All the way to the bank in the rain today, actually, as I need to order checks today.  Life doesn't stop because of showers, unless you're the Wicked Witch of the West.  My clever wit doesn't stop, either.  Cheers.

Monday, November 1, 2010

"What, did you go on vacation...?

"...I figured. You're looking pretty pale."

So began my return to the Hula Grill Wednesday, not much more than twelve hours after my return to the 808 from the friendly, homely confines of the 207. It's a tough life I lead, really. I found the aforementioned comment pretty hysterical as most people returning from vacation stand out because they are, in fact, tan. Maui living is...different. 

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Back home on my way to Albany to catch the Crowes it was intermittently raining cats and dogs so I was forced to use my windshield wipers  from time to time.  I am tremendously OCD when it come to windshield wiper operation.  I believe windshield wiper speed should be adjusted according to the precipitation and if precipitation slows then windshield wiper speed should also slow accordingly.  As a passenger if this does not occur then I get annoyed, exceedingly so if the wipers make that annoying "SQUEEEEEAK" when there's not enough moisture on the windshield to properly lubricate the wipers.  I'm not kidding, I freak out inside when this happens.  It ruins my driving experience.

In my Jeep well back when I didn't have the slow-ish speed that you could adjust.  I just had "OFF," "ON," and "SUPER FAST."  "SUPER FAST" should never be used, except in hurricane- or tornado-like conditions.  
The one, ONE time I used the "SUPER FAST" setting was in my Volvo cruising from Nashville to Manchester, TN to Bonnaroo when we drover through tornado reports.  It was frightening.  I was going 35 on the highway and we could see ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT RAINDROP SLATTER, even in "SUPER FAST" mode.  Never do this; it's not much fun.  Nick can attest to this.  He was hating life.  My driving was piss poor at best that morning.  FYI: PED'S increase chances of hangover.
At any rate, this lack of options contributed to my enjoyment of driving as long as I could with raindrops accumulating on the windshield until, just prior to raindrop-out, "SWISH."  This wasn't turning the windshield wipers on but rather just slipping the jab, so to speak, and sparking the single shot wiper.  I'd drive for plenty long just single shotting every 30 seconds or so rather than have my wipers moving two drops a pass.  That's just how I rolled.  This kept me squeak-free for a good six years.  

When I picked up the Volvo and because a two car family I gained not only another car but another speed of windshield wiper freedom, in the form of the "SLOWER ON" speed.  It was handy in that I didn't have to slip the jab quite as much but obviously it was nowhere as handy as the more modern, multi-speed twister how-do-you-do that has been present on most cars built in the last, oh, fifteen years or so.
ASIDE HERE: This is not to say until this time home I've never used this more modern, multi-speed twister how-do-you-do, just that it's never been my daily driver.  Ma's gold Chevrolet Malibu used to have this twisty speed, I just didn't drive it enough to call it my daily-driver and thus develop the idiosyncraties that generally result with someone spending an inordinate amount of time with something.   
SECONDARY ASIDE: This more modern, multi-speed twister how-do-you-do is the doo-dad that twists on your windshield wiper stick that, when clicked to the corresponding angle (usually it goes from "OFF" to this more modern, multi-speed twister how-do-you-do to "ON" to "SUPER FAST" in one direction and then you can slip the jab in the other direction.  So when in the more modern, multi-speed twister how-do-you-do setting you can twist the column and adjust the delay between wipes from just more than your standard "ON" setting to fifteen or so seconds between passes.  Glad we cleared that up..
ANWAYS I drove Ma's Nissan to Albany and this car, being built within the last fifteen or so years, possessed the more modern, multi-speed twister how-do-you-do setting.  We'll call it the "DELAY" setting from here on out.  As the rain changed speed I adjusted the tempo of the delay accordingly.  I'd say over the four hours of on-and-off wet travel I ended up "ON" for less than five minutes.  Between an hour and ninety minutes were spent in the "DELAY" range.  This was changed about every thirty seconds because I NEED MY WIPERS TO BE RESPONDING TO THE EXACT RATE OF RAINDROP FALL.  Then the rest was a jab here and a jab there.

Skip doesn't do any of this.  Hasn't for as long as I can remember.  All I remember is "SQUEEEEAK."  Still hurts my ears.  It drives me up a WALL.  Love you, Skip.  You don't read.  Ma does.  She'll tell you.  I expect a "FUCK YOURSELF" text or voice message within the next twelve hours.  I deserve it.  But, god dammit, dial in your wipers, folks.

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Also the drive I listened to the Crowes' The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion.  Their second album.  As it turned out they played quite a bit at the show but it was certainly nice to reconnect with this gem.  Ten high-quality songs.  A lot more blues-rocky than their debut.  I'mma huge fan.  Few folks still live in the 207 but most Bull Moose's stock this used for under $3 ($2.97, but still, under three Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers..).  If you like the Crowes and don't have this album then you're a fool.  If you don't know if you like the Crowes then scoop the for three bucks and you'll see that you like the Crowes.  It's that simple.  I even provided you with a picture of the album cover so you'll know what to look for.  It's delightful.

-Note to KathV & Jenn with two N's: Here is your test: If you have been staying current with your readership of the 'Pad I will find out quite soon.  I obtained a copy of the Crowes show we went to.  Ya.  "She Talks To Angels."  "Hard To Handle." "By Your Side."  SEVENTEEN MINUTES of "Wiser Time." A cover of Velvet Underground's "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'."  All that.  Three hours of memories can be yours if I receive in text message within the next 48 hours: "And the band played on, in golden harmony."

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Cheers.