Friday, November 12, 2010

Angel of Death?

I can't remember if I've blogged about my Angel of Death nickname before, but my friends are aware of it as is anyone who saw the video of my stand up routine from last May.

But for the 3 of you who know not of what I speak... Long story short, I have a tendency to bring about the demise of people. There was a period of time during which every time I went home to NJ, one of my relatives died. If I think about someone out of the blue that I haven't thought of in ages, I typically discover they've died in the last few days. My mother and I find it somewhat morbidly amusing. Oh no, wait -- we find it disturbing. That's right.

Up until now, my "powers" have only affected animate beings. But I have to wonder...



As you may or may not be able to read, the building in the picture is being demolished because its proximity to our future light rail train is too dangerous for visitors to the building.

Guess whose therapist is located in said building?

Yup.

I read the accompanying article and there was no mention of relocating the practice.

Whoops.

While I'm prepared to take responsibility for the demise of this building, I'm happy to report I'm not responsible for publishing the caption containing the word "basicaly." :)

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Who's with Me?!

Ahhh, it's that moment most people (I think) try to avoid -- the dramatic walk out. We've all seen it in countless Very Special Episodes or teen angst movies. Typically, it's The Shallow Bully who up until the Dramatic Moment is perceived as the most popular person in school or work -- until that moment he (or she) tries to take the gang with him and no one follows. They've all discovered they don't really need him or even like him and and that they have the strength to stand up to Popular Bully...

Or, they're a school bus driver in Norfolk who staged a huge Sickout that no one attended. hahahahaha.

According to Lauren King of the Virginian-Pilot, Reports that as many as 100 school bus drivers might stay home from work Wednesday ended with a one-person "sickout," school officials said.

Shortly after 7 a.m., all school bus drivers, except the person who was organizing the event had reported for work and were on the road picking up children as usual, said Karen Tanner, a division spokeswoman.


D'oh!

On Monday, Brenda Williams told WVEC.com she would be among about 100 drivers who would call in sick to protest no pay raises.


I'm guessing that while the other 99 bus drivers would appreciate pay raises, they decided getting paid their current wages was preferable to not getting paid at all. I think it's a mantra many of us repeat to ourselves these days.

Good luck to you, Brenda. I've learned the hard way over the years that most people will bitch and moan until you're ready to strangle them but when you stand up for them in an effort to better their circumstances, they often scatter like roaches and you find yourself standing alone. So hang in there and pick your next battle -- and your fellow soldiers -- a little more carefully.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Good News, Indeed!!!

Wendy's sprinkles trendy sea salt on its new french fries
~By Bruce Horovitz, USA TODAY

A nation swimming in new products with sea salt is about to get the clincher: sea salt fries.

On Thursday, Wendy's will unveil Natural-Cut Sea Salt Fries — revamped french fries of 100% russet potatoes, cut with the skin on, sprinkled with sea salt.

The move comes as sea salt has set consumer hearts aflutter and invaded American pantries. In 2010, 1,350 new products with sea salt as an ingredient have been introduced, research giant Mintel says. The percentage of all foods and beverages with sea salt jumped from 5% in 2006 to more than 8% in 2010, Mintel says.

"Sea salt has the potential to grow as fast as low-carb did," says Lynn Dornblaser, new products guru at Mintel. "Hopefully, it won't decline as fast."

Wendy's, which continues to lose share to McDonald's, is in the midst of a companywide move to stress the wholesomeness of its food. It opted to fix the fries by using better potatoes cut a new way — and sprinkled with sea salt.

"Wendy's has never had the best french fry," concedes marketing chief Ken Calwell. "If it's not your strength, you can start with a clean sheet."

Why sea salt? "There's a halo that goes with it. People associate it with good, natural things."

They also link it with flavor. The typically bigger salt granules can add more flavor with less salt.


I'd like to think I had a little bit to do with this. If I may refresh your memory...

Dear Mr. President

Um...Mrs. Schmidt, if you're reading, don't click on the link. Just know that it was my mini-rant against Wendy's fries...

Anyhoo, I don't really care who gets credit for this idea. The important fact is that Wendy's is introducing new fries!! Wendy's is introducing new fries!!

Now if we can just get the Wendy's folks to cook the fries thoroughly... Baby steps, I suppose. :)

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Visions of sushi rolls danced in their heads...

Testing out the mobile blog feature...  Sushi approximately 30 minutes before bed.  Good idea?  
Eh, who cares?  Yum!!

Monday, November 8, 2010

Lick-a-Lolly, Then Shove a Lolly in Your Ear

Was just doing a little channel surfing and saw something that reminded me of Crazy Eddie. If you grew up in the tri-state area (the REAL tri-state area of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut) and are of a certain age, you are painfully aware of Crazy Eddie. His commercials ran hundreds of times each and every day. This first example is more in keeping with his, um, excited delivery, while the second example just made me laugh. Check out the "new" computer models!





And as long as we're strolling down this path, let's take a look to our left at another golden nugget from NY/NJ...



Only Tom Carvel could use one mold for Fudgie the Whale and Santa and another for the Hanukkah cake and Cookie Puss. I'm pretty sure I've talked about Tom Carvel before, but Crazy Eddie memories begat Tom Carvel memories begat...

The Magic Garden!



Wow. I hadn't seen that in 30+ years. All this time I've been blaming my friend Cecco, but I think this show made me a lesbian. Who knew? Maybe I should grow a giggle patch...

And, as long as we're here, might as well finish up with The New Zoo Revue. A theme song I still work into casual conversation as much as possible. Freddie was the best!

Phudge. I couldn't find a good clip of it online. And then I got distracted by this!

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for your not being able to get this song out of your head.

And don't forget to keep an eye out for Rita Moreno...


Sunday, November 7, 2010

Personal Foul

I'm a fairly intelligent person. As a Gemini, I have a pretty good shot at understanding things both left-brained and right-brained. And yet, at the tender age of 41, there are several things I'm convinced I will never fully comprehend:

1) The cosmos. Carl Sagan, I'm sorry. I try, but I get overwhelmed and then...I surrender. I know I'm just a speck of dust. But man, I cannot comprehend what's going on OUT THERE;

2) Reproduction. Oh, I understand the mechanics of it. All the way down to the cellular level. But when all is said and done, YOU HAVE A HUMAN BEING GROWING INSIDE YOU!!

3) NFL Football.

I'm quite confident I could understand the intricacies of nuclear physics before I understood this game -- or Americans' affinity for it. My girlfriend can rattle off teams and stats and who bet on whom and who she needs to win and who needs to lose and the coaches and the players and the refs and the history and the rules and the and the and the and the FOR.EV.ER.

And all I see is a game that should take about 20 minutes extended into 3 hours with a bunch of horse's asses running around celebrating every blasted play they make. Congratulations, you did what you're paid to do. Now pipe the f*ck down!

Can you imagine if every sport did this? If every baseball player started fist-pumping and chest-thumping every time he caught a ball? If hockey players started celebrating every stolen puck? If women's volleyball players started screaming to the spectators and demanding congratulations after every point?

Yes wiseasses, women's volleyball has spectators! ;)

Anyhoo, I don't mean to piss on anyone's testosterone parade. I know I'm in the minority here and I'm just discussing my ignorance of the game and its appeal.

But I can't help but wonder where we'd wind up if we Americans invested a fraction of the energy spent on NFL football on our jobs or education or inventions... Maybe we'd go back to being known for more than professional sports, music, and entertainment. I'm just sayin'...

Saturday, November 6, 2010

The Only Thing Running is My Nose

I've had Zombie Ick for the past two weeks. It started the morning after Survive Norfolk -- during which I forgot to use my inhaler, ran like a madwoman from pretend zombies, and felt as if my lungs had caught on fire. Since then, an assumed army of viruses has descended on my sinuses and respiratory tract and seem to be in no hurry to leave. At any given moment, my head/chest is like my golf game -- only two of the three parts are working properly. My driving and short game are okay (lungs and throat to you) but my putting is off (sinuses). And 'round and 'round we go. The crap leaves my head and winds up in my lungs. Crap leaves my lungs and jumps up to my head. Crap makes it way from my head to my lungs and makes my throat sore. Repeat.

Come to think of it, this great influx of phlegm is similar to the recycling of water from the earth to the sky to the oceans, ad infinitum.

As you can imagine, this has gotten a little old. I'm all out-of-whack. I want/need to run, but don't really feel like it. Plus, I'm fairly certain my running-induced (see burning lungs above) asthma wouldn't be too thrilled about it. But I know I feel like a lump and my spirits are lowwwwww, so I've got to do something.

I'm sick of being sick and getting sick of myself!

Perhaps tomorrow. Maybe a good run will knock everything out. Be gone my little virus visitors. You have overstayed your welcome...

Friday, November 5, 2010

Young Frankenstein

I just stumbled on Young Frankenstein and once again my first thought was to call my Dad. Which many of you know would be somewhat difficult since he's been dead for almost 14 years.

Yowza. I know it's been a long time, but it still throws me when I see the number. Kind of like when I remember I'm 41. :)

Anyway, I thought I'd just rattle off some lines from Young Frankenstein. I loved the movie as a child because my father did. And because he'd laugh through the entire thing. He had a great laugh when he really got going... As I got older, I loved the movie for the original reason and then because it made me laugh too. It's one of those movies I never tire of...

The nursing home staff is going to have a hell of a time trying to figure out what I want when I start speaking exclusively in Young Frankenstein quotes once the Alzheimer's has set in for good and they're the only words I remember. ;)

Roll, roll, roll in the hay!
That's FRAHNKenSHTEEN.
Frau Bleucker! (horse whinny)
What knockers! Why sank you, Doctor.
Taffeta, darling... Taffeta, darling. No, the dress -- it's taffeta...
You take the blond, I'll take the one in the turban!
Damn your eyes! Too late!
Walk this way. Here, go on, take the stick; this way...
Perhaps some OVALTINE? No. Nothing. THANK YOU.
Put the kendle beck!
Putting on the Ritz!
Vootshtops. Vootshtops vootshtops vootshtops!!
Oh, sweet mystery of life at last I've found you!!!
Abby.....Normal
I ain't got no bodyyyyy.
I can do something about that hump. What hump?
Give him a seda-give??


As if speaking in Young Frankenstein quotes in my dotage isn't bad enough, I've had the song "There's a light over at the Frankenstein place" from Rocky Horror running through my head this whole time. I can only pray I don't wind up combining the two movies at some point.

I'm going to wind up in a carnival. I just know it.

I should've had children. Or siblings at least. Siblings with children! Dammit to hell, Mom.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Give Me My Money Back, You Bitch, and Don't Forget To Give Me Back My Black T-shirt

Some of you may have noticed the widget to your left
<------------------

That's only if you're reading this on 11/4/10. Any later, just go up to the current blog post and you'll see. I'm assuming even if you're reading this in 2015, it will still be there because honestly, I don't foresee being paid back anytime soon.

I put it up there as a little reminder for myself. I'm one of those numbskulls who forgets things after a while. Money owed, injustices, fights. Sometimes it's good -- if something is so insignificant that I forget about it after a while, then maybe it wasn't such a big deal after all. But sometimes, some things are worth remembering. Like a $2100 "loan."

It was loaned freely and with no strings. I told myself at the time that I wouldn't loan it if I couldn't afford to never see it again. I know how that game goes. And at the time I could afford it. And then the universe laughed. I was supposed to be paid back in approximately 10 days -- after the next paycheck. Well, the loanee dodged and weaved and threw up distractions and quit the source of any future paychecks. We were still friends at the time, so when she FINALLY cut me a check, 1.5 months after the loan, I told her I would hold it until she was working again because I knew cashing it would clean her out. She thanked me.

And that friends, is all she wrote.

We're going on a year now. There has not been one penny repaid. I'd be happy with a dollar a week at this point as a good will gesture. When I finally got fed up enough with the whole situation and phoned the bank to see if it could be cashed, I was told it couldn't for two reasons -- one, it had been more than six months, and two, there weren't any funds to support it.

I'm fairly certain there never were.

And so, the counter on the left. And this marvelous suggestion from a good friend:

"You should say,

Dear Drama Cow –

I was going through some papers and I found this check that you wrote me to pay me back. I had completely forgotten about it. I’m so sorry if it has caused any problems with your record keeping. I did call the bank to find out if I could still cash it after all this time and they told me that it was no longer “active” so I wouldn’t be able to bring it in. So, if you wouldn’t mind writing me a new check I will run it to the bank right away and cash it so that we can both finally have our accounts all straight.

Thank you so much for your patience and understanding. I hope you are doing well,
AJ
:)"


Hahahahaha! Makes me laugh every time I read it. True friends and good people are to be treasured, my friends. I still want my *&^%$ money back, but thank goodness I'm rich in so many other ways...

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Tattoo Stiggy

Sometimes they just write themselves...

I literally just sat down and was going to either write something about the deaf woman answering our phones at work or about parking, when I overheard the name Stiglitz on Jeopardy!

It's a name I grew up with but heard more often as "Tattoo Stiggy." And off to Google I went to find a picture of Walter Stiglitz for you fine folks. Imagine my amusement when Google Instant offered "Tattoo Stiggy" up as an answer to a question formed only in my brain... I didn't realize he was famous enough for Google Instant. :)

And here he is circa 1980, in the living room of his house in my hometown:

photo credit: John Wyatt

Stiggy was covered in tattoos when single ones were rare. I knew he was in the Guinness Book of World Records at some point in time for having the most tattoos, but only just discovered that he has 5,555. Apparently, his last one is on his behind, as in, "The End." Actually, it may be "had 5,555" -- I have no idea if he's still alive or not.

And now I'm bummed that I never went to his shop. Or received a tattoo from him. I still want one and I still can't commit to one. I figure by the time I commit, I'll have far fewer years to live with it. But in the meantime, it would've been cool to receive my first tattoo in a small shop from a famous human canvas in my little town...

And since the 80s were not the Aughts, my mom would've had a stroke if I had. :)