The Long Cut ...we'll get there eventually

Moment Of Truth

Here are the answers to Thursday's true/false quiz:

1. My favorite band during high school was The Who.

False. During my high school years (1982-86) my friends and I were all big Kinks fans. Yeah, I hung were a pretty tough crowd.

2. My original college major - before switching to Geography - was Chemistry.

False. I started out as a "Pre-Engineering" major, which predated my alma mater creating a world-class School of Engineering by about ten years. The idea was to finish the two year Pre-Engineering program and then transfer to a real Engineering program at some big-name university (I had my heart set on Drexel). Chemistry was the subject I failed my first two semesters, which was why I switched to Geography (that and the fact that I had zero idea what was going on in my Physics class - but at least I only failed that class once).

3. I've never not finished a race.

True. 126 races and counting. Impressive, no?

4. Playing "Tag" once landed me in the emergency room.

False. As an eight-grader I sliced my hand open on a broken Coke bottle while playing Hide-and-Seek.

5. To help pay for my last two semesters of college, I worked as a escort.

True. True, true, true! In last year of college I worked for the military contracting department of the [retracted] [retracted] Company. I received limited Department of Defense clearance so that I could take uncleared personal (mostly janitors working the graveyard shift) through high security buildings. My official title? Escort.

6. I spent my last two semesters of college on the Dean's List.

True. Escorting janitors around made for a whole lot of down time while waiting for them to finish cleaning bathrooms (or whatever it was they were doing in there - luckily I didn't have to go into the bathrooms with them). That gave me time to actually do my homework, actually read my textbooks and actually study for my tests, which brought about the best (by a long shot) grades of my life.

7. I was in the school play my freshman year of high school, but had no lines.

False. I was a stage crew geek my freshman year, but I was on stage (behind the scenery) for You Can't Take It With You and Mame.

8. I'm really not that upset about my allergy to shrimp.

False. Trick question! While I am allergic to most shellfish, shrimp isn't one of them. I still stay away from them, have never tried them, and have never had any desire to try them. Dude, they've got that poopy black thing going down their back.

9. In my eighth-grade yearbook, I was voted "friendliest."

True. And I was one of only four to receive that honor. Although right after the yearbooks came out I was told by someone on the selection committee, "yeah, we were told we had to come up with something for every person in the class, so we kept friendliest open for the people we couldn't think of anything else for." So I beat the crap out of him. (Okay, that last part was false.)

10. I've never been to Florida.

True. But that all ends tomorrow, god (and US Air) willing.

Looks like infrequent Long Cut commentator and frequent sister Terry was the best of those of you who tried this. With eight correct answers she even managed to tie the missus! Of course, the missus was the only one who had no problem envisioning me working as an escort.

Falsiness

Karen did a post this week to see just how well her readers know her. Ten facts - five true, five not so true. Karen admitted that it was hard to come up with ten things that her readers don't already know about her - a problem I'm sure most bloggers would have - and yet, even after reading Verbatim for going on three years, I only got one(!) answer correct*.

So let's see how you do with my little quiz. Leave your guesses in the comments and I'll give the answers on Monday. (Karen disqualified family members, but I'm willing to let everyone - except the missus - take a shot at this, mainly because family members make up a large chunk of my readership).

True Things Most People Don'€™t Know About Me, and 5 Total Lies:

1. My favorite band during high school was The Who.
2. My original college major - before switching to Geography - was Chemistry.
3. I've never not finished a race.
4. Playing "Tag" once landed me in the emergency room.
5. To help pay for my last two semesters of college, I worked as a escort.
6. I spent my last two semesters of college on the Dean's List.
7. I was in the school play my freshman year of high school, but had no lines.
8. I'm really not that upset about my allergy to shrimp.
9. In my eighth-grade yearbook, I was voted "friendliest."
10. I've never been to Florida.

C'mon, give it your best shot.

*Correction: As I've now told Karen, now that I went back and checked I'm pretty sure I transposed the answers I gave to her quiz, so I might not have really done all that bad on it. And that's no lie. (Then again, I also blame my SAT score on transposed answers - yes, even in the essay section).

Beauty Is Tooth, Tooth Beauty

A quick update on my dental woes:

Not only did I get my temporary bridgework re-cemented into place on Wednesday afternoon, but my permanent bridge was already in at my dentist's office when I got there. While he couldn't just put in the permanent (because that would just be too easy), he was able to use it to do my second fitting while I was in for my little emergency. That saves me the trouble of having to come in next again next Tuesday. And the best part - unlike the first fitting, the second involved zero-zero-zero-zero-zero zero! shots. If everything goes according to plan (ha!), this whole ordeal should be over on May 22.

Before heading over to my appointment, I went into the men's room here at work and brushed my teeth and tried my best to get all the fixodent off the tooth (all the while praying nobody walked in as I had the big ugly gap in my mouth). When I put the bridge back in (right as someone was walking in), it was so loose that I had to clench my teeth for the whole three-block walk from my office to my dentist's office.

While walking those short three blocks (which takes me from one end of Independence Mall to the other), I see a news reporter and cameraman from CN8. Teeth gritted, I thank my lucky stars that in the thirteen years that I've worked on Independence Mall, I've never once been stopped by any of the many reporters who come out here for man-on-the-street reports - no matter how many times I would have actually liked to have been stopped.

Except, of course, the one day I can't open my mouth to talk. Guh. I gave the reporter a quick, "sorry, I've got an appointment to go to." With my teeth locked together, I'm pretty sure it came out, "Urry, uve gut anntdsdffgjfd cgjsdfgkf."

Let me tell you, crooked politicians and shady CEOs should forget all about using "no comment" to shake snoopy reporters. Nothing gets them to back off (very quickly and very nervously) like  "Urry, uve gut anntdsdffgjfd cgjsdfgkf."

Under The Bridge

After some stalling, I finally got the ball rolling last month on getting the bridgework done where my root canal post cracked last fall. And let me tell you, it takes a long time (and a whole lot of money) before that ball stops rolling.

I've had quite a few root canals and caps before (as well as way way way too many fillings), but I'm new to this bridgework thing. From what I can tell, it's a four-visit procedure. I've already had my mouth prepared to accept the bridge (which is two caps with a third cap floating between them where the original tooth went kablooee).

"Preparing my mouth for the bridge" makes it sound like they sit down with it and explain what's about to happen, but, surprising, it's not. Preparing means completely removing the damaged tooth and grinding away at the two (perfectly healthy) neighboring teeth so they can be capped. This involves one-two-three-four-five-six six! shots of Novocaine and about two hours of drilling. When their done they fill the space with a temporary bridge that's temporarily held in place with some very temporary glue [foreshadowing...].

A few weeks later you come back for your first fitting. It's a lot like buying a custom-made suit, except that it includes one-two-three-four-five-six six! shots again. And you don't go home with a new suit. You go home with the same temporary bridge you had before, cemented in, again, temporarily. Very temporarily.

Then they want you to give your gums another three weeks or so to get used to not having a tooth in it anymore before they do yet another fitting, just to be sure this thing fits correctly. This is the stage I'm currently at. My appointment is for this second fitting is next Tuesday, with the follow-up - where I'm pretty sure I finally get my permanent bridge - two weeks after that.

But the funniest thing has happened recently - the post-it-note-strength temporary glue has failed, and this honking three-tooth temporary bridge (which, by the way, is located at the front of my mouth) has been slipping out, making talking difficult and eating almost impossible.

So Saturday I had to go and do something no healthy thirty-eight year old should have to do - buy Fixodent. As in "Fixodent and forget it." We're talking Martha Raye territory here. (Actually, Martha Raye shilled for Polident, but all I remember is fearing those big fake choppers of hers, so forgive me if I don't get the details right.)

It's depressing - and disgusting - to have to see my mouth all hillbilly-like with a big gaping hole in it (no offense to all my gap-toothed hillbilly readers) and it's frustrating that the Fixodent isn't doing such a great job either, probably because it's really not meant to be used on temporary bridgework. And I'm really not happy with how poorly the glue they used for the temporary performed, but I've got an appointment Wednesday afternoon to get yet more of that wonderful temporary glue put in my mouth.

That should hold me over until next Tuesday's appointment and hopefully by tonight I'll be back to my usual, salt water taffy-heavy diet.

If I Was A Swallow I'd Be In Capistrano By Now

The beard is gone. Spring has now officially arrived.

[Photographic proof to follow.]

Bland Survey

Karen asks, I answer:

1. What did you have for dinner last night?
Cranberry-Pear Butter on English Toasting Bread (and about 300 cookies for dessert).

2. What book are you currently reading?
On Beauty by Zadie Smith.

3. What color socks are you wearing?
Black. Still. With pajamas.

4. What blog or web site did you visit just before this one?
Flickr

5. What's your middle name?
Howard

Feel free to answer in the comments, or leave a link to your answers.

I Said Whoa No, William And Mary Won't Do Now

My high school twenty-year reunion was held over Thanksgiving weekend. I was thinking about going until I realized that the guys I hung out with most likely wouldn't be there. Then there was the cost of the reunion, the short notice, and the fact that over half the class was still on the have you seen them list just weeks before the get-together. Add all that up, and it didn't make sense to go.

I think my main reason for wanting to go in the first place wasn't to catch up with old classmates, but to see what they look like now and what they're doing (as in - compared to me, how successful are they? I bet most don't even author blogs). I'm not sure I'd really want to actually have to talk to them.

[This post makes it sound like I hated high school, which really isn't true. I had a lot of fun in high school, but rarely interacted with anyone other than about a lunch table's worth of friends. A lunch table that even back then could have been labeled "seven guys who will never give any thought to attending their high school reunions... and Mark." Or maybe you would have just called it "that dweeb table." Either name would have worked. Anyway, I did like my high school years.]

So, anyway, even though I didn't go (and didn't even RSVP when asked), I still received a link to photos of the reunion. I still don't know what my fellow Lancer alumni are up to, but I do know what they look like - oh, oh, oh, oh, old! Wow, those twenty years were not kind to most of them. I'm not usually this shallow, but these are my peers, could it be that I look that old? I looked at seventy-one photos today and seventy-one times the missus kindly told me that I don't look as old as the rest of the Class of '86.

Still, I'll never again complain about my boyish good looks.

Star Of The Game

Let's check in on the ol' fantasy team, shall we?

Hmm, I wonder what that asterisk means???

 

Oh, that's right.

The Ugly Tooth

Hey, remember back in July when I wrote about all the trouble I was having with a couple of my (fake) teeth? Sure you do! Remember? Let's fire up the wayback machine for the highlights:

I don't know why I haven't mentioned it, but over the last few months I have had two teeth fall out. The first one had a crown on it and just cracked... Ended up having to get a root canal and a replacement crown, of which my insurance only pays half.... Then just this week the cap (I've got quite a few) on one of my front teeth came loose to the point that I could pull it off. Luckily... I just had to have it re-cemented back on.

I'm happy to report that he tooth in the first part, the one that needed a root canal and a replacement, is doing just fine.

The second tooth, the one that just needed to be cemented back in, a simple 15-minute fix that only cost me $25, came loose again while I was watching the Eagles game Sunday (and eating a burger on a hard roll). It didn't come completely off this time, it just kind of move up a bit, and I had to push it back. (Sorry if this is making anyone squeamish, I know it freaked me out).

So back to the dentist this morning. The good news? He didn't need to cement it back in, so no $25 charge. The bad news? It's not loose because of the cement, it's loose because the post that was holding it in place ever since that tooth had a root canal (a few years ago), is broken.

For those of you who actually took care of your teeth when you were growing up, when you get a root canal they cement a post where the root once was so the crown that covers your newly-hollowed-out tooth has something to hold on to. As I found out today, you only get one shot at putting a post there. Apparently it's not replaceable (the x-ray over there is not mine, it's from some lucky duck who didn't break their post).

So instead of looking at a $25 bill, I am looking at paying somewhere between $1000 and $4000 to fix this tooth, depending on what solution I select and just how much of it is covered by my dental insurance.

My two options are an implant (the $4000-ish choice that isn't covered at all but was my dentist's first recommendation) or a bridge (which is pretty much three crowns put together to "bridge" the gaping hole in my smile, not that I've been smiling much today). My dental insurance will go halfsies with me on the bridge, but only up to what's left on my coverage limit for the year, which isn't much after the year I've had.

It's looking like I'm going to wait until January - after my insurance balance goes back to zero - to get a bridge. That should give me the best financial scenario, "only" setting me back about a grand. It will also pretty much max out my available balance very early in the year, so I would have to pay out-of-pocket should any other dental mishap occur next year. But c'mon, what are the odds of something like that happening to me?

Luckily, the tooth is in there now and should stay in place if I'm careful how I eat. Now I just have to convince my dentist to go along with my plan, which I'm going to try to do tomorrow.

I hope he does, because Plan B involves a Chiclet and some Elmer's.

You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

I tried my best to come up with a happy little post tonight, but I'm having a little trouble. Why?

• Still way behind on my sleep.
• My first day back at work was spent putting out little fires - what I call the annoying computer problems that pop up and prevent me from getting any real work done (way way down on my job description is troubleshooting, but in reality it's what I end up spenting most of my time doing). Today "real work" was to include filing my expense report for the San Diego trip so I can get a check before American Express adds any more finance charges to my account.
• I'm about 99% sure that my camera "disappeared" somewhere between me checking in my bags (yes, I packed my camera in my checked luggage - I  wanted to make my carry-on as simple as possible for the TSA) and them popping out at the bag-spinny-thing. I have looked everywhere for this thing - it's not here. I've filed a lost and found with US Air but I'm not very optimistic. Next up will be filing a TSA missing item report - that will surely do the trick.
• I filed my NJ FAIR rebate online tonight, which is always fun. In New Jersey homeowners pay outrageous property taxes (highest in the country - woo hoo!). The state then has a rebate where they give you back about 1% (okay, maybe more, but not much). For this you're supposed to love you state Representatives so much that you reelect them. Except that there's no finish line on the rebate form - you fill in the blanks, and the state puts it through their magic calculator and you (maybe) get a check sometime (???) in the future. How is the rebate amount calculated? Who cares, it's free money! Did they calculate your rebate correctly? Hey, troublemaker, what part of free money don't you understand?
• Plus the FAIR rebate online filing site SUCKS! Cross your fingers every time you click on one of the numerous "continue" buttons, because you have better odds of winning the state lottery than you do of having the next page to not bomb out. Twice. Thrice.
• Did I mention they lost my camera?!?! And I had about 100 San Diego shots still on the memory card.
• Arrgggggggh!

At least I'm off tomorrow (you gotta ease back into work after a week away). Tomorrow's the day the four-year-old and I go out together. Watching hippos pirouette in there tank ought to put me in a better mood.

Well, Would You Evah?

More than you ever wanted to know about me (Via Karen):

GRUB-OLOGY
• What is your salad dressing of choice? Vinaigrettes are good (sweet or tart), but really anything that's light - high-fat dressing on a healthy salad just seems wrong.

• What is your favorite fast food restaurant? Does anyone over 16 has a favorite fast food place? If I had to pick, I'd say Chik-Fil-A since they offer some good non-greasy meals.

• What is your favorite sit-down restaurant? I like anything new and local, not a fan of chains. When traveling I seek out brewpubs, since there aren't too many in South Jersey.

• On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant? 20%.

• What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of? Cereal.

• Name three foods you detest above all others. Raw (or extremely rare) meat, bologna, and almost anything served at meetings at the office (nasty stuff).

• What is your favorite dish to order in a Chinese restaurant? I haven't been eating Chinese food long enough to have a favorite. Maybe that's why I like dim sum.

• What are your pizza toppings of choice? Barbecue chicken & sausage and ricotta (Bertucci's Sporkie) .

• What do you like to put on your toast? PB and/or J.

• What is your favorite type of gum? Trident cinnamon.

BI-OLOGY
• What do you consider to be your best physical attribute? My calves. A decade of running has given me calves of steel.

• Are you right handed or left handed? Left.

• Do you like your smile? Eh. My teeth could be better, but how I smile is alright.

• Have you ever had anything removed from your body? 2 wisdom teeth and a couple of (benign) lymph nodes.

• Would you like to? Would I like to what?

• Which of your five senses do you think is keenest? Taste.

• When was the last time you had a cavity? About a year ago. Not as much as I used to, but they still pop up every so often.

• What is the heaviest item you lift regularly? Both of the boys like to be thrown in the pool. Oy.

• Have you ever been knocked unconscious? Unconscious, yes - knocked unconscious, no.

MISC-OLOGY
• If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die? No way.

• If you could change your first name, what would you change it to? I used to want to change my name, but it'd be too much of a pain to do now. If I had to change it, I'd make sure not to have a noun or verb as a name next time.

• How do you express your artistic side? Mapmaking lets me do that, and I like to build stuff when I get the chance (which is almost never).

• What color do you think you look best in? Blues, I guess. I think more about what colors I don't look good in.

• How long do you think you could last in a medium security prison? Until I dropped the soap.

• Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake? I swallow bugs while running all the time - pure protein. In 2nd grade I ate dirt for a quarter.

• If we weren't bound by society’s conventions, do you have a relative you would make a pass at? No offense to my relatives but, good Lord, no.

• How often do you go to church? Almost every Sunday.

• Have you ever saved someone’s life? No.

• Has someone ever saved yours? I've almost walked in front of cars/buses a couple times before someone pulled me back - I'll get a little too into a conversation to notice.

DARE-OLOGY
For this last section, if you would do it for less or more money, indicate how much.

• Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000? Sure, it's not that much less than what I run in sometimes (just ask my neighbors).

• Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100? Do I get to pick? I kiss my sons every morning and night.

• Would you have sex with a member of the same sex for $10,000? Despite my man-crush on Paul Newman, I'll have to say no. Sorry, Paul.

• Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000? Tempting, but no - I've grown pretty fond of them.

• Would you never blog again for $50,000? Yeah, why, is someone offering? It's because of my beer posts, isn't it?

• Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000? Sorry ladies, but no.

• Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000? I once drank a whole bottle of ReaLemon for a buck (I was kind of dumb in grade school) so I'd say yes.

• Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000? Depends on the person. No, that would be wrong.

• Would you shave your head and get your entire body waxed for $5,000? Yes.

• Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000? I want to say yes, but I know I wouldn't last. No Alton?

You Can Keep Your Shat On

More proof that my life is turning into a dumb-guy sitcom:

This morning, I snuck out of the office to return an overdue library book. Not five steps out the door I was shat upon. Right on the back of my head. Damn bird.

I'm telling you, I should carry a laugh-track with me wherever I go.

[And now a few words about the word “shat.”

Personally, I love the word. I remember Annie Proulx using it several times in The Shipping News, and then it seemed like every novel I read after that included the word. Each time I would point it out to the missus.

I like the “is it a curse word - is it not a curse word” feel it has. For me, this uncertainly only adds to the risqué-ness. Are the past tenses of naughty words equally naughty? I could see the answer being yes if you were simply adding –ed to the end of the word, but this is a whole different word. Whoever came up with "shat" obviously put some thought into it.

And yet, this wonderful word is all but ignored by the obscenity-spewing public. Is it that they're also not sure it's a dirty word? Are they just waiting for confirmation that it's appropriately inappropriate? I find it hard to believe that the same people who come up with seemingly endless variations on the f-word would thumb their nose at a word like shat, a word that would probably kill to have a rap album written around it. It's elitism like this that has stalled our dirty-word list at seven for generations.

Yes, this is what sitcom characters think about when they’re not busy being shat upon.]

Bullet Train Of Thoughts

Where I write like Larry King:

• Anyone who tells you that cartography is glamorous has never shopped for a plotter.
• Donuts in the morning + Mexican for lunch + church pancake dinner = Fat Tuesday.
• Spring arrives: first little league team meeting tomorrow.
• Curious about the beer on my shirt in the new "about" photo? It's Bahamian, and not very good.
• Brew of the week at Starbucks - Kenya. Blah, I'm not digging it.
• I am digging The Amazing Race. After stumbling last season, Phil and friends have got their mojo working again.
• More AR - Favorite couple: the Nerds. Also liking the Sisters.
• State Efforts to Help Women Avoid Unintended Pregnancy: Not liking how New Jersey (43rd) ranked in this.
• 34% - this I am liking.
• My Lenten sacrifice: nail biting.
• Meatless Fridays in Lent: Roman Catholic = Required. Episcopalian = Optional.
• BBQ anyone? Say... Friday?
• ummmm...

I could have sworn I had more to say. How did Larry do it?

Dream Team

(about three a.m. last night / this morning):

me: ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

missus: hey, hey, wake up.

me: oh, man, did i just scream out loud?

missus: yeah.

me: whoa, i dreamt something about a pit bull.

missus: okay, go back to sleep.

me (thinking to myself): man, that was weird.

me (thinking): i remember i was shoveling snow...

me (thinking): with a rake...

me (out loud): whoa.

missus: yeah, go back to sleep.

me (thinking): and it was on market street [in philly]...

me (thinking): and i was thinking how some lucky store owner...

me (thinking): was getting his walk cleared for free...

me (out loud): wow.

missus: okay, c'mon, back to sleep.

me (thinking): and then out of nowhere...

me (thinking): a pit bull just jumped out out at me...

me (out loud): man, sorry about that.

missus: 'salright, go back to sleep.

me (thinking): so when I screamed in my dream, i must have...

me (thinking): and i remember my scream sounded like...

me (thinking): hey, i wonder if...

me (out loud to the missus): hey, when I screamed, did it sound...

missus: high-pitched? yeah. go back to sleep.

me: Like a... woman?

missus: Yep.

missus: [Laughs head off].

me (thinking): damn, i should have just gone back to sleep.

I Did Not Know That

[Via pk at SBFH]

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Mark!

1. Humans have 46 chromosomes, peas have 14, and mark has 7!
2. Every day in the UK, four people die putting mark on.
3. The patron saint of mark is Saint Eugenie.
4. Mark is incapable of sleep.
5. California is the biggest exporter of mark in the world.
6. Only one person in two billion will live to be mark.
7. The average human spends about 30 days during their life in mark.
8. Mark is the traditional gift for a couple on their third wedding anniversary.
9. There are six towns named mark in the United States.
10. The colour of mark is no indication of his spiciness, but size usually is.

I am interested in - do tell me aboutherhimitthem

Gang Of Fours

I've been tagged tagged tagged tagged by Karen:

Four jobs you’ve had in your life: cook's assistant at an old folks home, drive-thru bank teller, security escort (don't ask), and cartographer

Four movies you could watch over and over: The Natural, Defending Your Life, Nobody's Fool, and O Brother Where Art Thou

Four places you’ve lived: Burlington County NJ, Gloucester County NJ, Camden County NJ, and Camden County NJ

Four TV shows you love to watch: America's Test Kitchen, Good Eats, New Yankee Workshop, and Sportscenter

Four places you’ve been on vacation: Jersey shore, Louisville, Bahamas, and coastal Maine

Four websites you visit daily: Bloglines, Web Sudoku, ESPN, and Flickr

Four of your favorite foods: cookies, peanut butter, granola, and candy

Four places you’d rather be right this minute: on vacation, eating out, catching a movie while it's still in the theater, and Starbucks

Four albums you can’t live without: Springsteen, Darkness On The Edge Of Town; Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot; Big Star, Third/Sister Lovers; and The Clash, London Calling

Four to pass this meme along to: Dee, Nick, Sam, and PK

Now That I'm Gone, I Tell You: Lift With The Knees. Whatever You Do, Just Lift With The Knees.

Hey! Today's January 6th! That means it's the 12th anniversary of my Herniorrhaphy (which, let me tell you, was so not laparoscopic).

Happy anniversary to me!

TMI?

[The post title - too obscure? Too tasteless? And you can click on that image if you want to see it larger.]

Seven-Year(-Old) Itch

Five Things I Remember About My Second-Grade Classroom

[It's late and for some reason thirty-year-old memories were in my head. I remember these classmates' last names, I just don't want them Googling up this page.]

1. Denise, whose father was a bigwig at some Philadelphia bank, winning the candy drive mainly because all of her father's subordinates felt obligated to buy one of his daughter's candy bars from him. Or at least that's what I was told (maybe even by Denise herself?). For coming in first in sales (for the whole school!), she won a ten-pound Hershey bar, but when it came it had a big nasty puddle of machine oil on it.
2. Matt, who threw up at least once a month - usually on Keith, who had the unfortunate luck of being assigned the seat in front of Matt.
3. Sister Paul Anthony, my favorite grade school teacher. Extremely cool, despite being given (or choosing?) two male names when she became a nun. I had this woman as a teacher three years (second, third, and fifth grades). As soon as her order allowed it, she changed her religious name to match her real name, Barbara.
4. The grid pattern on my phonics workbook (and the color - dark green).
5. Denise (yes, the same Denise) telling me she saw her father get out of the shower and knew what I had "down there." I distinctly remember looking down at that phonics workbook to avoid eye contact with the girl while she was going on and on about this.

Maybe all of this was on my mind because I found out last month that the diocese that runs my old grade school is shutting it down due to dwindling enrollment numbers. I would love to be able to walk those halls one more time before they shutter the place up, but only if I could be assured that Denise wouldn't also be there.

Norm!!!

Very little time to blog today - went from the farmer's market to baking cookies to the Philadelphia Bloggers meetup and now I'm off to a costume party (and after that we're going to a neighborhood scavenger hunt party - thank God for that extra hour of sleep). I made a last minute decision to give up on my planned costume (a wizard) and go as my hero:

That's This Old House's Norm Abram for those of you who are allergic to home improvement shows. But can you guess which one is the real Norm?

Photo credit: The Missus.

Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love

More timely bullet points:

• Big week for Springsteen news (and an excuse for even more bullets!):

• It was thirty years ago today that Bruce fronted both Newsweek and Time.
• A 30th Anniversary edition of Born to Run (which was the reason for Springsteen being on the cover of Newsweek and Time thirty years ago) is coming out next month. Three discs with plenty of never-before-released goodies, thus forcing all Bruce completists into replacing their perfectly good Born to Run CD (which had replaced their pretty good Born to Run cassette, which replaced their horribly scratched-up Born to Run album).
• Sirius satellite radio has announced a 24/7 all-Bruce station on their network. Ehhhh... that's kind of stalker-like creepy, but I would still have it as a pre-set if I could actually afford satellite radio (do satellite radio receivers even have presets?).

• TypePad, the blogging service I use, has been annoyingly buggy lately. Not Blogger-level annoying, but annoying nonetheless. From what they're saying on the company's own blog, it sounds like growing pains are the cause of the recent glitches. Many more glitches and TypePad won't have to worry about the problems caused by being too popular, WordPress will (not that I'm threatening to leave TypePad, who could ever leave a cute couple of kids like Mena and Ben?).

• A big running-related pet peeve of mine (right up there with nipple rub) is when a race doesn't post their results online. A lot of times I need to leave right after a race and can't wait around to find out my finishing time. This past Sunday was just like that - the missus needed me home quickly after my 10-miler so she could get the eight-year-old to choir practice, and on top of that I was missing the some of the Eagles game. So I rush home, find out that there won't be any online results, and grumble about not knowing my results. I did get to see almost all of the second half of the football game, though. Yesterday I come home from work to a package from the race sponsors - a medal for third place in my age group! That's my second medal in a month (and only my third ever, all for the same thing - 3rd in age group). I still don't know my official time, though.
• It's official now - my World Series pick was right. I ended up going 5-2 in my post-season predictions. Not bad. [Long Cut commenter (and big sister) Donna reminded us of another reason to root against the Astros: Dubya's folks - the people who are to most to blame for his train wreck of a presidency - are season ticket holders and are frequently shown on the ballpark's big video screen (sometimes even seen kissing - bleehh).]
• Some links I've been meaning to write about:

• 80’s Rock Concerts (via Howard) - Some blogger is posting scans of his concert ticket stubs from the 80's. Now I'm going to have to go up into the attic and see if I kept some of mine.
• Badmash Short Bush-bashing skit from Andy Dick. Yes, that Andy Dick. He's is back and it's funny Andy, not freaky Andy (though, like most things Andy Dick does, the joke goes on a bit too long).
• The top 40 magazine covers of the past 40 year - I'm not too sure about some of them belonging here, but still pretty interesting to see.
• Families of Prisoners (via Blinq) This is a great idea - families of prisoners who are sick of having prison visiting rooms as the backdrop to all their family pictures can have non-correctional services settings photo-shopped in. Why stop at prisoners? With Christmas family newsletter season approaching, what family couldn't benefit from more exotic family photos?

• Building on Paige's post about musical artists she feels are a tad over-rated (though I don't agree with her hating on Sufjan Stevens): I don't get what people love so much about Mike Doughty. Then again I didn't much care for his old band, Soul Coughing, much either. Somebody enlighten me.
• I'll end all these bullets with with a shocking, SHOCKING, headline: Exxon Mobil, Shell Post Record Profits. Who'da thunk it?

Now, who's going to be the first to tell me where I stole the title of this post from?

If I Ever Start Waxing Gibbous, Just Shoot Me

From the Birthday Calculator (via Karen).

• Your date of conception was on or about 13 November 1967.
• You were born on a Monday under the astrological sign Leo.
• The year 1968 was a leap year.
• There are 306 days till your next birthday on which your cake will have 38 candles on it.
• The moon's phase on the day you were born was waxing gibbous.
• As of 10/3/2005 3:21:59 PM CDT

• You are 37 years  old.
• You are 446 months  old.
• You are 1,939 weeks  old.
• You are 13,573 days old.
• You are 325,767 hours old.
• You are 19,546,041 minutes old.
• You are 1,172,762,519 seconds old.

Another cool, and somewhat related, site is How Old Do You Think I Am? (via Paige). Careful, you might find yourself playing on that site for hours.

Walker Under The Bridge

I'm pretty sure this is how the special effects guys removed Gary Sinise's legs in Forrest Gump.

I don't normally go around snapping pictures of myself, but when I'm taking a lunchtime walk around the city with my camera and fate blocks my path with a mirror truck,  what can I do?

That's the Ben Franklin Bridge in the background, by the way, and there's a guy eating his lunch in that car behind me. Not the most scenic place to enjoy lunch.

I might look like I'm concentrating like a real photographer, but that look really comes from the confusion mirrors cause my simple mind. If I move the camera this way, why does it goes that way?

Click on the smaller photo for a wider view (and a clearer shot of the guy eating his lunch).

Tooth Wisdom

As a young man, I used to wish that I could have all my teeth capped just like those handsome movie stars out there in Hollywood, California.

As an adult, I have learned that I need to be careful what I wish for. At yesterday’s “routine” check-up I found that I need to get yet another crown. Forget the check-ups, it’s the crowns that have become routine. I’ve long lost count of how many I have, but the total must be approaching double digits. And of course my dental insurance sees them as purely cosmetic and will only meet me halfway on the bill.

It’s not like I don’t take care of my teeth, because I do - now. Most of these crowns are replacing old fillings that are falling apart - aging remnants of a youth spent not taking care of my teeth.

Whose stupid idea was it to give children “adult teeth” anyway?

Inconceivable!

What the frick does it take?!?!

You can ask the missus - one of the items that top my long, long, long list of the things that drive me crazy is the fact that, year-in and year-out, The John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation refuses to award me one of their "genius grants."

Gaaaaaa! How does this keep happening?!?!?!?!?!?

P.S. -Did I spell genius correctly? Someone help me out here.

[And does the "genius" pictured here look like the guy from The Princess Bride, or what?]

Pathetic License

How blogging has changed my outlook on life, example #213: I actually look forward to a trip to the DMV simply because I figure it would make for a good post.

In reality though, not so much. I had to renew my drivers license in person this time since, as we've all been told a million times, it's a different world since nine-eleven. It used to be that you could renew by mail, but New Jersey now requires you to come in with a stack of documents proving your identity. Not that I have a problem with tightening up security, especially since Jersey was apparently known as the place to go for fake licenses, and and these fake were being used for activities other than underage drinking or voting. I just wasn't looking forward to dealing with the DMV.

Here's how bad the NJ DMV can be: it's not even called the DMV. A few years ago things got so bad that they privatized the whole system (because we all know privatizing fixes everything) and, just to let everyone know that this wasn't the same old DMV, they changed the name to the Motor Vehicle Commission. But everyone still refers to it as the DMV, so really the only thing the name change did was force them to put signs up everywhere saying, "make checks payable to MVC even though we all still call it the DMV and when people ask where we work we say the DMV and you'll write DMV in your registery anyway because "MVC" wouldn't ring any bells when you went to balance your checkbook." Okay, I made that last part up, but they really did change the name.

So  I go in expecting the worst, but, funny thing, they seem to have gotten their act together. It's orderly, somewhat logical, and moves quickly. Got in and out of there in about a half-hour. The only really strange part was that the line for pictures was a row of chairs and when the person in the first seat got up, everyone moved over one seat. It was like musical chairs in slow-motion.

The people who work there are still pretty rude, but nowhere near as rude as some of the customers, who have no problem with openly complaining about the new license rules loudly, as if the people behind the counter wrote the new requirements. I understand that it must suck to work in such a thankless environment, but ladies (and it was all ladies working there), if someone - say, me - is actually nice to you, as least try to be nice back. I was polite, patient, and quiet and all it got me was practically ignored.

So no real laughs came out of my visit to the DMV MVC, but that's what the license photo is for. You know it's bad when the lady asks if you want to take another shot, then asks if you're sure you don't want to take another shot. The eight-year-old thinks it should have come with a side-view photo (like all good wanted posters do), but I like it. Besides, if it did come out good, what would I have to write about?

Cocktail-less Cocktail Hours, Meteor-less Meteor Showers, Wire-less Camping, and Mummy-less Mummy Museums

Busy, busy, busy.

My Saturday:

My day started at 5am, hoping to get a 12-mile run in before South Jersey turned into an oven. No dice. Even without the sun, the haze and humidity did me in after seven miles. I'll try to turn tomorrow's planned five-miler into another seven-miler.

Took the boys to the farmers market, where it was so hot that I believe it was our quickest visit ever. The only reason that I went at all is that the fruit has been so reliably good lately. The cantaloupes are huge, juicy, and unbelievably tasty. My favorite stand even has some early apples for sale. I can't remember the variety's name, but it's one I had never heard of before this year. Green, juicy, and extremely tart. Kind of like a Granny Smith but juicier, softer, and slightly sweeter.

In the afternoon the missus and I went to a Baptist wedding reception. We we're sure exactly what would be allowed, but it turned out like this: Music - Yes, Dancing - Yes, Drinking - NO. Despite the lack of alcohol (and the fact that the only person I knew there was the missus) it really wasn't so bad. I couldn't help but think that it would have been better if there were drinks (I might have even had the nerve to go out on the dance floor), but that what you get when the bride's dad is also the minister.

What kills me is that the first hour of the reception was a "cocktail hour!" Ha! Lemonade is not a cocktail, people.

My Friday:

Stayed home from work so I could recover from backyard camping adventure (see below). Ended up taking the eight-year old out to the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archeology and Anthropology after lunch. The boy had won two free tickets from Kids' Corner a while back, and considering that the place is more interesting than exciting, the kid was a pretty good sport. It's a beautiful old building with some very interesting things inside, but they don't have any hands-on things for the kids to do. In fact, most of the things are hands-off ("do not touch" signs are everywhere). I understand that you can't have kids pawing things that are thousands of years old, but couldn't they have had a fake dig area set up? Or, since every culture seemed to feature masks, a place where kids could make a mask of their own? It just doesn't seem like they want young kids there.

Since the building is so old, most of it lacks air conditioning. There may have been a lot of neat things on the third floor, but it was so God-awful hot up there we didn't hang around very long. We were both pretty bummed that the mummy section was closed. Yes, we missed our mummies because that section was under wraps.

On the way back to our car we peeked into Penn's Franklin Field and found out that they were filming a movie there. It's called Invincible and it's the story of Vince Papale, a thirty-year old walk-on for the Philadelphia Eagles. It was very cool seeing players in the old Eagles unis but it couldn't have been fun for the actors, reenacting a game in full pads on an Ozone Action day. The weird thing is that while the Eagles did call Franklin Field home for a while, they moved to Veterans Stadium in 1971. Vince Papale played for them from 1976 to 1978. Anyway, I got to see the guy who was playing John Bunting (who coached my college team while I was a student and who I once met as a kid), but I didn't get to see Marky Mark.

I took pictures of the museum and the movie set, but I haven't even had a chance to look at them yet.

My Thursday:

Pre-dawn Friday morning promised a great showing of the Perseid meteor shower, so the eight-year old and I borrowed my brother's pup-tent Thursday night and set it up in the back yard. It was the first time camping for the boy, and Good Lord was it hot out there. We finally got comfortable enough to fall asleep (I admit that I dragged the laptop out there - our wireless signal reaching the backyard - and posted and read after he conked out) but when his watch alarm went off at 4am there was too much cloud cover to see anything. Still, we both had fun spending some time together, even if my sore back couldn't appreciate it. If this camping thing's going to happen more often, I need to invest in an air mattress. I feel old enough already, I don't need my back reminding me just how old all weekend.

I think I've earned an easy Sunday (after that run, that is).

The Future Is Here

If you go down my sidebar, past the lists of beers I’m drinking and the movies I’m watching and the books I’m reading and the music I’m hearing and the shows I’m watching and the blogs I’m hitting and the pictures I’m taking and the Wal-Mart I’m hating, you’ll see a button for Philly Future. The button’s proximity to the bottom of my blog has much more to do with the enormity of my self-conceit than the value I place on Philly Future.

Philly Future is the brainchild of the web-famous (and quickly becoming real-world-famous) Karl Martino, one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet. It’s a collection of Philadelphia blogs that goes way beyond just being the usual blog aggregator.

For blog readers, Philly Future offers access to a wide variety of views on what is going on in Philadelphia and the world. To blog writers, Philly Future offers online kinship with other local writers and a great opportunity to get your words seen.

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you may have seen me post about the Philadelphia Webloggers Meetup Group, the beer-drinking and wing-eating portion of Philly Future and a great source of offline kinship.

Just letting you guys know about Philly Future would make a great post in itself, but I also wanted to mention that the fine folks there have given me the honor of making The Long Cut their current featured blog. Me. Well, my blog actually, but still. This goes to show just how much beer drinking these guys do. They've announced it on Philly Future along with an interview of me conducted by Matt from the Tattered Coat.

Anyway, I wasn’t going to say anything about this because I'm a pretty humble guy. No, seriously. Quit laughing, I am so. But I did want to thank Karl, Matt, and everyone else who has anything to do with keeping Philly Future the wonderful site it is. I’m flattered that you saw my lowly blog as worthy of being featured.

I also wanted to welcome anyone who came here from Philly Future - I hope you like what you see. To everyone who knew me when, I promise not to get too big a head from this if you promise not to bring up any embarrassing stories about me to the new visitors. As far as they know, I’m normal.

Let them find out the truth themselves.

Gee Our Old LaSalle Ran Great

Karen tagged me for a pretty tough little quiz, like, forever ago. I avoided it to the point of forgetting about it, and then I remembered it again and figured I should just do it already. So here it goes:

Five Things I Miss About My Childhood:

1. Going down to the Cowtown Rodeo with my best friend Franklin. [Now I’m torn on whether or not to take my own sons to Cowtown. People say the animals don't suffer, but that's hard to believe when you see them ropin' them doggies.]
2. Going to the supermarket with my mom. [Yes, I was a momma's boy.]
3. Carefree Christmases. ['Nuf said.]
4. Getting home from school at 12:30 each Wednesday. [The teachers used to have in-services every week. I still remember that McCale's Navy would be on when I got home. I also remember that it was a Wednesday afternoon when Reagan was shot (I can't remember if it interfered with my McCale's Navy watching or not). I think I should still have a half-day once a week.]
5. Playing Wiffle Ball everyday with my brother. [Although, to borrow an analogy from basketball, I was the Washington Generals to his Harlem Globetrotters. It got so bad that he often had to pay me to play him and we had to enact a twenty-five run mercy rule.]

Pop Quiz: Can someone tell me where the title of this post comes from?

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This post was published using TypePad's "auto-post" feature. Comments may be left, but they will not be read by me until July 9, 2005, at the earliest . The family is on a much-needed, Internet-free vacation downtheshore. I have lined up a post for each day I'm offline for those of you who need your daily Long Cut fix.

My Life In Googled Images

Okay, saw this one here, and it seemed pretty interesting. The directions are pretty simple, too:

1. Go to Google and click on the “Images” link.
2. Type in the answers to the following and post the first  picture the search engine finds.

• The name of the town where you grew up
• The name of the town where you live now
• Your name
• Your Grandmother’s name ( just pick one)
• Your favorite food
• Your favorite drink
• Your favorite song
• Your favorite smell

This is pretty cool. When I first started blogging I felt like every post needed an accompanying picture, and Google Images was a big source of those pictures. After a couple months something about using other's stuff didn't seem right and I tried to use my own stuff more often. Now I'm at the point where if I don't have an appropriate image I'll just put out an image-less post. Last week I even created my own little "Friday Random Ten" image from some Philly graffiti, just so I wouldn't have to use someone else's FRT image.

Anyway, here are my images (well, not my images, but you know what I mean). Click on them to enlarge:

My home town.

Town I live in now.

My name. (Since my first name is both a noun and verb - and is also very common - I searched on my first and middle name. And no, this isn't me.)

My Grandmom. (It helps when your grandmother shared her name with one of King George VIII's wives.)

My favorite food. (One of many favorites).

My favorite drink. (Duh.)

My favorite song. (Again, one of many.)

My favorite smell. (This is what came up when I searched on "oatmeal raisin cookies baking.")

Photo Friday - 06.10.05

06.10.05 Photo Friday Challenge: Nerdy

This week's challenge, nerdy, cries out for a self-portrait. Especially when I'm wearing a wussy expression, a shirt only Norm Abram could love, and (since my eyes were too irritated to wear my contacts) my geeky "use only in case of emergency" glasses.

This photo was taken during a break at a computer conference in Baltimore (talk about nerdy), and I get extra geeky points for walking around Inner Harbor with the canvas bag the organizers gave out (those things are just so cool). Points subtracted for lacking my usual cowlick.

The Skywalk, Inner Harbor, Baltimore, MD.

Each week Photo Friday posts a photo assignment. Your mission is the creative interpretation of the week's theme. When you're done, post the picture you took to your website and submit your link to Photo Friday. Photo Friday is about challenging our participants to be original and creative within the constraints of the week's theme. It's not a competition. Anyone with a camera and a place on the Internet to post pictures can participate.

168-Step Program

In an effort to help along my diet, strengthen my legs, and continue to be a better person than you are, this week I began eschewing the elevator in favor of the stairs at work. And, man, it's a lot of steps up to the 8th Floor. The first few flights aren't so bad, but by the fifth or six my heart rate starts approaching four digits. And my poor calves just cry for mercy.

Of course, I had to choose the hottest week so far this year to start this program. We've had three straight days of temps over 90 here in Philly - that's the definition of a heat wave. And the humidity, oh, man, the humidity. But I'm determined to stick with this stair thing.

On a less successful note, the seven-year old's Little League team had their first playoff game, but I'd rather climb another seven flights than talk about the game. Ugh.

Wireless-less

This post is to prove that my blog really hasn't become all meme all the time.

My blogging (and blog reading) has become several hampered by the fact that my laptop's wireless network has not worked for the last three days. So I can't write after the missus and the kids are asleep like I prefer to do. Instead  I have to do it when I find the time, and I haven't been finding much time around here lately - not even enough time to work on fixing the wireless problem.

Two things I've been meaning to write about, both of which would probably have benefited from being written closer to midnight:

His Cup Creepith Over: It took me almost 37 years before I purchased my first athletic cup, and now, a week later, my seven-year old got his first. The back-up catcher on his our team broke his hand and they need a replacement and the number one requirement to being a catcher is owning a cup. Since he, like his Pop, has an overwhelming fear of a baseball coming at him, there's little chance of the seven-year old becoming the back-up. But he wanted the cup and after seeing how some of these pitchers throw I feel better with my boy protecting his boys.

The thing is, when he's wearing it he rarely stops messing with it. And if he's not messing with it he's talking about it. He did get to warm up the pitcher the other night (after bugging the manager for most of the game). The pitcher threw a total of two balls that the team's newest warm-up "catcher" let go right by him, but he (the seven-year old, not the pitcher) was satified.

Penthouse Sweet: The other thing was the getaway overnight trip the missus and I took last weekend. Our favorite niece (well, she is now!) offered to watch the kids overnight, so the missus and I ran as fast as we could to the Warwick Hotel just off beautiful Rittenhouse Square in Philly. Despite rainy weather and an off-and-on belly ache for the missus, we enjoyed ourselves. It was sooooooo relaxing. And way tooooooo short. Our (very budget conscious) room was on the 21st floor. When we got in the elevator, the numbers only went up to 20. After that was "PH." Penthouse? Nah. But we pressed it, and sure enough we were in the penthouse. Just not a penthouse suite. A little room between the penthouse suites, but we liked it. It was especially fun watching the many double-takes when other guests would see us press the penthouse button in the elevator - especially all the high-priced lawyers staying there (on the, uggh, common-folk floors) for a Temple Law School Alumni weekend!

Here's the view from our penthouse window (photo courtesy of the missus):

We now return you to your memes, already in progress.

Youthful Indiscretions

Ten on Tuesday

Ten Stupid Things You Did As a Kid (Via Karen)

1. Flushed favorite shirt down toilet (age 5).
2. Got so mad at family that I hid in closet. Got locked inside closet only to be rescued by laughing family.
3. Ate dirt from classmate's dixie cup seedling for a quarter.
4. Drank whole bottle of ReaLemon for a buck.
5. Liked Disco (for a very short time).
6. "Trimmed" bangs on morning of class pictures.
7. Spray-painted blue bike red, but not just any red - the ultra-cool sounding translucent red. Blue + translucent red = ugly purple.
8. Actually asked for the "Pete Rose cut" from my barber. For years.
9. At lunch in first grade, popped inflated sandwich bag with pencil, sending pencil point into my palm. Came back from nurse's office only to be shunned by classmates. Ate rest of lunch alone.
10. Tried on brother's nose protector. Except it wasn't a nose protector, it was his athletic cup.

And that all happened in my first ten years. I won't even mention my awkward teen years.

Station Bragging

Ain't she a beaut? (Click on photo to enlarge).

After months of research and procrastination, I went out Monday night and traded in my '91 Explorer for a '00 Focus wagon. As much as I loved my truck, I had to agree with the missus that it was time for me to get a more reliable vehicle. One that she would feel safe driving. One where you can feel pretty confident that you won't fall through the rusted undercarriage (as my mechanic had warned me about the truck).

Being the owner of an old house, my only demand was that I get something that I could use on trips to the lumber yard. Her only demand was that it had room for two kids in the back seat (which ruled out most cheap pickups). The Focus has lots of room and a roof rack for bigger things so I'm happy with it. But man, I'm going to miss that truck. It was a comfortable and familiar to me as one of my old race shirts (which I also have trouble saying goodbye to).

Since the missus is stuck with the '03 Kia Minivan, there's been a bit of jealousy on her part. I can understand this, seeing how I hate the Kia too. But this is the woman that used to hate station wagons and believed that they were the lowest rung of the coolness ladder, even below minivans. That was before she actually owned a minivan.  A crappy minivan.

In my defense, since even before we were married I've made sure that she has had the more reliable (and usually cooler) car. Here are the cars we've had since our dating days, with the "better" car in bold:

Her: Used Toyota Carolla
Me: Used Renault Encore

No contest. Mine wasn't the cool race-car type Renault, it was the piece of junk type Renault.
-------------------------------

Her: Used Toyota Carolla
Me: Used Ford Escort

Draw. By this point they were both pretty bad.
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Her: Used Ford Escort (my old one)
Me: Used Pontiac T-1000

As bad as the Escort was, the T-1000 was worse. It wasn't even a Chevette, it was a Chevette clone. And of course it refused to die. I ended up having it for seven years.
-------------------------------

Her: New Geo Metro
Me: Used T-1000

The Metro was our first "real" car. How sad is that? I think our lawnmower has more horsepower than that thing did. And it was still better than the T-1000, which by this time had a hole in the roof from a power-screwdriver mishap by yours truly.
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Her: New Saturn SL2
Me: Used T-1000

Our first real "real" car.
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Her: New Saturn SL2
Me: Used Ford Explorer Sport

I get The Truck. As much as I loved it, she still had the better car. By the time I got it, the Explorer already had 96,000 miles on it and most of its paint off it.
-------------------------------

Her: New Kia Sedona
Me: Used Ford Explorer Sport

This one was closer than you would think. What does that tell you about the quality of Kia vehicles? But still, she didn't have to hear, "Dude, do you know your truck's smoking?" every time she got gas.
-------------------------------

Her: New Kia Sedona
Me: Used Ford Focus Wagon

To Be Determined. I'm always afraid that I've been taken every time I buy a car (except when I bought the Escort from my mom, and even then I wasn't so sure). I will say that the wagon looks a lot cooler.
-------------------------------

We have agreed to look into replacing the van in about a year. Until then, something tells me that the missus will be borrowing "my" car as much as she can.

Short Shrift

1. I find it funny that on the cover of its "Best Places to Live" issue, Philadelphia Magazine puts a McMansion so lacking of any homeyness that I would never want to live in it. Unless, of course, someone wanted to buy it for me. I'd be cool with that (then I could just turn around and sell it).

2. Even Michael Jackson says, "that's just too weird": State teacher commission probes wound-licking practice by coach. (Via The Morning News.)

3. While I'm nowhere near being on pace to finish my 52 new (to me) films in 2005, I am glad that we used a valuable spot on our Blockbuster-by-Mail queue for a Pee-Wee's Playhouse DVD. You know, for the kids. These shows were jam-packed with both creativity and brilliant humor. The kind of humor that kids laugh at even as it goes right over their heads. You don't get much of that on Dora the Explorer. And the show is completely timeless, other than the Jheri-Curl on Cowboy Curtis (Laurence "Larry" Fishburn). We had to quickly change the subject when the seven-year old asked why the show isn't on the air anymore, but other than that the show has proven itself as one of the rare shows that the whole family can happily watch together. We already own Pee-Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special, and I have a funny feeling that the Easter Bunny might already know about the kids' love of all things Pee-Wee.

4. After reading the first chapter, I've decided order the book I posted about yesterday, Jason Headley's Small Town Odds. While I wouldn't compare it to Richard Russo's work just yet, it's a good enough story to give it a chance.

5. If you haven't looked at my sidebar lately you might not have noticed that I added my Amazon Wish List (or maybe you did and you've just chosen to ignore it). I've also added a photo album with my pictures from the October Kerry Rally. I dig how TypePad organizes their photo albums.

Update: I had to go back into this post to fix a typo, so I'll add one more thing while I'm here:

6. "tom petty in pink underware" - Someone got directed to my blog today by typing that into Google. Serves me right for for checking my StatCounter. I mean, sure, I have the picture they're looking for, but I'm not going to actually publish it. I'd have to take it down from over the living room fireplace and scan it.

I'm kidding, of course. We don't have a fireplace.

Where You Been? - The Jersey Edition

This would look so much more impressive than the state meme, if it wasn't such a pathetic idea.

bold the counties you've been to, underline the counties you've lived in and italicize the county you're in now...

Atlantic / Bergen / Burlington / Camden / Cape May / Cumberland / Essex / Gloucester / Hudson / Hunterton / Mercer / Middlesex / Monmouth / Morris / Ocean / Passiac / Salem / Sommerset / Sussex / Union / Warren

Where You Been?

This meme, via Karen, is a lot like my "I've Been Everywhere" post from a few weeks ago, except this one's a little more organized.

bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C.

I spent a hellish week in Huntsville, Alabama for database training. During college I went up to Connecticut and Rhode Island. I drove through New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire on the way up to Maine with the missus. I also used to go up to Long Island (which really is a separate state) to visit my sister's family when they lived in Lake Ronkonkoma. That's not really important, but I like typing Ronkonkoma. The missus and I have hit Baltimore on some weekend getaways, and I'm often in Maryland, Virginia, and D.C. for conferences and training. Gotta pass through Delaware to get there. The missus and I did stop at the L.L. Bean outlet in Delaware once. I work in Pennsylvania and have attended numerous Phillies games there. We visited Tennessee when my sister-in-law's family lived down there. We've visited family in Kentucky several times and passed through Pennsylvania, West Virginia and Ohio on the way out there.

Not only have I not lived anywhere but New Jersey, but the five houses that I have lived in have been in two towns - one town before I got married, one since.

Nobody Ever Says, “When I Grow Up I Want To Be A Map Junkie”

Today was Career Day at the seven-year-old’s school and I got the call. Since the missus is just a boring ol’ teacher, Captain Cartography had to go in and speak to three second-grade classes (for a half-hour each) about the joys of making maps for a living. Since it was also Dr. Seuss Day I had to read a book to each class as well.

On top of all that, it was also “Wear Your Slippers to School Day.” In an effort to give the field of Cartography some credibility, I passed on the wearing of slippers. Plus I don’t actually own slippers, and I have no idea what the Department of Homeland Security’s policy on a grown man walking into an elementary school wearing his wife’s fuzzy slippers is, but I’m sure the penalties are severe.

As I saw it, my half-hour would consist of four parts: Storytime, Opening Joke, Show and Tell, and Parting Gifts.

Storytime: I asked my son’s teacher to pick out a book, and she wisely chose Mapping Penny’s World, which dealt with the components of a map and showed that even a dog could help make maps (no, really, it did). While that didn’t exactly boost my ego, it did give me some points to work into the Show and Tell part of my presentation.

Opening Joke: Here’s what I said:

How many of you have ever made a map? (About two-thirds raise their hands). Well then, you’re a cartographer. You can’t be President of the United States because you’re not 35 yet. You can’t be a doctor without going to school and getting a license. But, even at age seven, you can call yourself a cartographer just by making a map. Now, if you want to make money while being a cartographer (chuckle, chuckle), then you have to go to college and get a degree.

Granted, not the funniest thing in the world, but how hard could it be to get second graders to laugh? I’m surprised they didn’t all start crying, because I’m pretty sure this is what everybody (including the teachers) heard:

You’ll never grow up to be President of the United States.

You’ll never grow up to be a doctor.

You might as well get used to the idea of sitting at a computer digitizing lines over aerial photos all day for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

Oh, and cartography doesn’t pay crap.

Undeterred, I went on to use the same failed opening for the other two classes. And that was the part of the presentation I had scripted. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to just wing the rest of it.

Show and Tell: After the opening bombed I handed out little aerial maps of the area around the school to each of the kids. If you want to make sure you never have a group of kids’ attention, give them something to play with right away. After one of the teachers advised me against handing these out, I assured her that it was important to my presentation (you know, the one I was ad-libbing) that the kids follow along with their little maps.

I then held up a Rand-McNally road atlas and asked who had seen one of these before. They all smiled and shook their heads yes. Then, while they were still smiling, I said something like, “yeah, well I ain’t that kind of cartographer! Bwahhhh ha ha ha!” I then spent ten minutes trying to explain Regional Planning to a bunch of kids who absolutely could not care less. I then hung up a map titled – no lie – Elderly Population and Access to Rail Transportation in the Delaware Valley. It was then that I thought I saw one kid try to put himself out of his misery by fashioning a noose out of a chain of paper clips.

I went on to hang up a Land Use map that, while still boring, was pretty colorful. Then, as an exciting kicker,  I hung up a paper aerial photo of Philadelphia International Airport and asked the kids to guess what it was. Nobody got it right, but two Department of Homeland Security guys did come in and quickly rip it down anyway (thank God I decided against the fuzzy slippers). Even after I told the kids what it was, no reaction. Airports just aren’t sexy from above.

Luckily, one of the few plans I did make was bringing in a laptop and projector. So I did a little more of the planning spiel with some transportation layers overtop digital aerial photos before finally giving up and letting the kids yell out who’s house they wanted to see from above. They dug that.

Parting Gifts: Let me just say this, when I was seven I would have killed for a little flashlight. I would have at least looked grateful while receiving a little flashlight. What is wrong with kids today that they can’t even get excited about getting a little flashlight for free?

Here’s all you need to know about what my audience thought of my talk: the two other parents doing presentations (in other classrooms) were an insurance salesman (who's also a  good friend of mine) and a Disney Store manager. I knew I couldn’t match the Disney lady, so I asked the last class, “Was I more interesting than the insurance salesman?” and they just stared at me while my goofy grin dissipated.

Moral of the Story: Only ask seven-year-olds questions you really want the answer to.

Sorry Ladies, He's Taken

To Whom It May Concern:

I finally got around to adding my photo (circa 1973) to my sidebar.

That's all you're getting.

- The Management

Photo Friday - 02.25.05

Each week Photo Friday posts a photo assignment. Your mission is the creative interpretation of the week's theme. When you're done, post the picture you took to your website and submit your link to Photo Friday. Photo Friday is about challenging our participants to be original and creative within the constraints of the week's theme. It's not a competition. Anyone with a camera and a place on the internet to post pictures can participate.

02.25.05 Challenge: Ghostly

Self-Portrait on Train.

RiverLine, South Jersey, USA.

Honey Don't

One of my new favorite shows is HGTV’s Designed To Sell, where they have a real estate expert go through a house that won’t sell and point out what can be changed to make it more attractive to buyers. Then designers come in and have a week and $2000 to fix it up. As the real estate expert does her walk-through the owners watch remotely from a neighbor’s house and always seem upset that she thinks that they should do little things like removing that corpse in the dinning room. Geez-zoo, we’ve been meaning to do that.

Anyway, I mentally went through our house and made a list of all the things that should be done to make it more sellable (not that we’re selling, but it’s not a bad way of thinking). If we were to be featured on Designed To Sell, it would have to be two-hour special edition.

Basement:
Finish trim and floor tiles. A couple of years ago I turned about half the basement into a family room, and stopped with about 3% of the project undone.
Repair hole in wall. Caused by the missus falling out of chair due to unfinished floor tiling.
Move phone jack. Our cordless phone was interfering with our DSL, so we had to move the base into a closet. I need to move the jack in there too.
Cover electrical box. The box is in the finished part of the basement and looks awful. I’m afraid that we’ve gotten used to seeing it.
Paint stairwell. Moisture is making one wall in the unfinished area peel like crazy.

Kitchen:
New microwave. The turntable no longer turns. Done.
New dishwasher. We went with the cheapest model when we first moved in, and it never worked well. A source of constant frustration for me. Purchased, needs to be installed.
Ceiling fan / additional lighting. Our ceiling fan is ugly and sad, and the room needs a lot more task lighting.
Flooring. Really should do something about the dingy vinyl flooring. The floor is already a good half-inch above the other rooms so, short of ripping out the layers of old flooring, I’m not sure what to do.
Storage. Whoever designed our kitchen seemed to either really like blank walls or really hate cabinets.
Fix junk drawer. Apparently there is a limit to how much you can shove into a junk drawer.

Mud Room:
Replace flooring. I bought a roll of flooring a few years ago, never got around to laying it.
Replace door. Our mud room was added on by some misguided owner and has an odd sized doorway that makes replacing the old weather-beaten door complicated.
Paint. Most of the room is either windows or the door, so this shouldn’t take long. It’s just that the recyclables that we store in there haven’t been complaining about it too much.

Dining Room:
Remove wallpaper. If I just wait a little while longer the wallpaper will finish peeling off by itself.
Paint. Already got the paint (leftover from another project), just got to get around to it. Number one on the missus' list.

Living Room:
Nothing! Can this be right?

Playroom:
Replace rug. The rug looks like it was taken out of a Jiffy Lube waiting room.
Paint. The walls are all a fishing cabin-like paneling.

Foyer/Stairs:
Paint. Our stairway looks like a finger-painting exhibition.

Upstairs Hall:
Replace attic access. So that someone other than me can close it.
Replace bathroom pipe access panel. For some unknown reason, the previous owners thought it would be a good idea to make this stand out.
Replace light. So the attic access door no longer comes thisclose to it.

Master Bedroom:
Replace rug. The room looks great since we painted, except for the girly (and grimy) pink rug.
Replace fan. After thirteen months, our “new” fan doesn’t always want to work. Replaced.

Middle Bedroom:
Paint closet. Doesn't seem like a big deal, but it has a big water stain from an old leak.

Back Bedroom:
Fix radiator. It has a slight leak that has been dripping onto the dining room ceiling.
Paint. It seems like we just painted this, but it’s getting dingy and is a little too childish for the seven-year-old.

Porch:
Paint floor. Never fun.
New storm door. As nice as our big front door looks, it has a dirty old ugly storm door covering it. Of course, it’s an oversized opening and needs a custom (read: $$$$) door.

Well, all this shouldn't take more than a decade or so to complete.

I also need to get in touch with the former owners of the house to find out who installed the roof. It lost some shingles recently and is causing rain to leak into the back bedroom. According to our home sale files it’s less than ten years old and I assume should still be under warranty. I need to do this soon, but the former owners weren’t the easiest people to deal with. I have to find a way to ask for the information in a way that will get them to cooperate.

Update (12:58 PM): Despite what it sounds like, we really don't live in a hellhole. Really.

Gunky In Pink

Last night I decided to bite the bullet and crank out the tax returns. A short while later (man, I love TurboTax!) I was done. I'm happy to report that we're getting a bigger return than last year. There is just one man to thank for all this: President George Walker Bush. Protector of the Middle Class. Reformer of Tax Laws. Fiscal Conservative. Thank you W and the citizens of the Red States for leading the way.

Nuts, I just fried my sarcasm meter. The main reason that we came out better this year is because in 2004, unlike in 2003, Bush didn't have one of those bait-and-switch schemes that paid out an advance of your tax refund and made it seem like it was extra free free free money (even though you really knew it wasn't) so he could trick you into spending it on crap you ready didn't need (which, of course, you did) to supposedly boost the economy (which it did, for like three days). Then when you were filling out your tax return you were like, Wha?

Anyway, this morning, while I was shaving and happy and busy thinking of ways to spend our new-found free free free money, the seven-year-old came in and told me that his eye was all gunky. I still wasn't fully awake so I mumbled something, nodded, and went back to shaving. Two minutes later the missus came in and said, "Mark, you moron, that's pink eye." She didn't actually say you moron but you know and I know - she was thinking it.

So the boy and I stayed home today and I spent the day organizing my file cabinet, something I haven't done in about two years. In my "Other Crap" (that's the actual name of the file) catch-all file I found this from 1987 (my first year of college*):

Concerts Attended:

Jun 19 1982 Huey Lewis. Joan Jett. Loverboy. Kinks. Foreigner.

Dec 1984 The Kinks.

May 21 1985 Tommy Shaw. The Kinks.

Aug 07 1985 Dire Straits.

Aug 08 1985 Nicolette Larson. Neil Young.

Sep 07 1985 The Kinks.

1986 Hooters.

1986 Hooters.

Apr 27 1986 George Thorogood.

Jul 19 1986 Tom Petty. Bob Dylan.

Sep 04 1986 Steve Winwood.

Sep 25 1986 Genesis.

Feb 27 1987 John Eddie. The Kinks.

1987 Tommy Conwell.

May 28 1987 Paul Young. Genesis.

Jun 17 1987 Paul Simon.

Jul 20 1987 Peter Gabriel.

Sep 11 1987 James Taylor.

Sep 17 1987 X. Warren Zevon.

Where did I get the money to go to all these concerts ?!?

What kills me is that this shows that even way back in 1987 I was typing out geeky blog-like information decades before I had a blog, I just couldn't trick anybody into reading it.

I still like the Kinks, but man, I really really liked the Kinks back then. Now my list would be REM-heavy.

Does anyone outside Philly remember the Hooters?

Correction: Post updated to include a 1985 Nicolette Larson/Neil Young concert at which Donna, frequent Long Cut commenter and older sister of the author, fell asleep! In her defense I will say that Neil was heavily into his most country sound and was seemingly out to piss off his record label by swearing off most of his rock catalog. And yes, I did see Dire Straits and Neil Young on back-to-back nights, and at the same venue, Philly's Mann Music Center. I was soooo cool back then.

* Clarification: The last concert listed was in September, 1997, so I guess I made this list my second year of college, not my first. Probably something I did during Physical Geography class.

Keyboard Confessional

After going months without copying someone else's idea, I'm going for two in one week. This is a little different since Amanda at MouseWords hoped her Confessions post would start a meme (which, for you non-blogging normal people out there, is an idea that you take from another blog and put your own - from the French for I can't think of a single thing to write today). I learned of it from eRobin over at the award-winning Fact-esque.

The whole idea of answering these questions is to "de-snob." Now take a look at the words under my title banner. Go ahead, I'll wait [My banner used to deal with me being a snob]. There's no way I'm going to de-snob, it's my bread and butter. But I will answer these questions to prove that, while I remain better than you, I'm not a total jerk.

CD I have in my car that I roll up the windows to listen to

While I don't have a CD player in the truck, there is one in the Kia minivan. If you're not embarrassed being seen driving around in a Kia minivan, then you aren't going to be embarrassed by listening to any kind of music. Never mind that, as the missus will tell you, it's a miracle any time the window-up button on the Kia actually works. Right now the power locks keep trying to trick us into locking our keys in the van. No lie, the van hates us more than we hate it - and that's a lot. Anyway, I have a very low tolerance for bad music but I will say that I'll leave 10cc's "I'm Not in Love" on (and sing along to it - loudly) if WXPN plays it.

Book I read flat so no one could see the title

Some of the books I read last year had some real touchy-feely titles, even thought their content wasn't. I admit I tried to hide the cover of Anna Quindlen's Blessings while on the train.

Crappiest song ever sung at karaoke

I've only ever sung one song on karaoke, on the system that we got our seven-year-old for Christmas. Of the three crappy songs that came with the system I chose Say My Name by Destiny's Child. As a joke. Honest.

Bad movie I watch repeatedly

Robby Benson's One On One. It plays on CMT every once in a while. And if it were on TV more I probably wouldn't turn off Benson's Ice Castles either. This is what happens when you grow up with five older sisters controling the remote. Article of clothing I love though I know it's wrong

Without a doubt my running tights. The two-year-old even laughs at me for wearing them. Coming in a close second would be my High Performance Underware. That's right, High Performance.

What I order at the bar when no one is listening

Manhattan. If people are around I'll just get a 7 & 7 so I don't look so pretentious. If I'm ordering beer, it will always be something pretentious.

Fast food item I adore

I don't even know if Roy Rogers still makes them (since the only surviving RR in South Jersey is at a turnpike rest stop), but they used to make Strawberry Shortcakes with a warm biscuit at the bottom. Mmmm-mmm. And I miss their Double-R Bar burgers, too.

A TV show that is a good example of the downfall of civilization that I love anyway

Around the Horn on ESPN. Four sportswriters yelling and insulting each other. Makes Crossfire look civil, I can't stand anyone on it, and yet I can't stop watching.

eRobin added two of her own questions to the list:

Advice I Give My Kids Even Though It Makes Baby Jesus Cry

Both boys have been raised knowing this: We don't hate anyone... except the Yankees. (It used to be "...except the Yankees and the French," but then all the war-mongers started hating the French and since they were one of the few countries who dared question Dubya I'm pretty cool with them now.)

Good Cause I Just Can't Support

I used to boycott oil companies that screwed people over, but that's getting harder and harder to do. First it was Shell, for profiting off of apartheid and civil wars, than it was Exxon for telling us they were done cleaning up the Valdez mess long before the cleanup was anywhere near done. But now Shell's got some weird partnership going with Texaco (which is now merged with Chevron) stations and Exxon merged with Mobil. I guess I could just go to the Hess, but I'm sure if they haven't already done something evil they will soon. And, frankly, the world's fascination with their toy trucks scares me. For the time being I go to Texaco, since I can't figure out exactly what their agreement with Shell Oil is. Plus the guys at my station are pretty cool.

Santa Claus is Going from Town

When I was growing up, the youngest of nine children, the days after Christmas was the time to show off. Each kid had his or her pile of gifts, each carefully orchestrated to best display what Santa brought. That meant that boxes with clothing in them were used simply to prop up your new favorite toy.

Things are different now. As much as she likes following both of our childhood Christmas traditions - the boy’s get both a reindeer gift for leaving out carrots (her tradition) and a gift for leaving out cookie’s for Santa (my tradition), the missus does not like clutter. Freshly unwrapped gifts are put away by Boxing Day. But now, thanks to the wonder that is the internets, I can show off my gifts forever.

1. Old Navy Painter’s Jacket. I hate getting clothes as a gift. The missus knows that whenever she attempts to appease my pickiness about clothes she’s risking disappointment. She also knows that if she didn’t replace my worn out clothes – like the Gap jacket I’ve been wearing for the last eighteen autumns – nobody would. I know she agonizes every time she goes clothes shopping for me, so I’m sure she was happy to see how much I liked this jacket. It’s going to be great to wear while making snowmen with the boys this winter.

2. The Wilco Book. The only item that came from my wish list, but that’s one more than I usually get. The main reason I wanted this is for the bonus CD of outtakes that came with it (I’m kind of a Wilco completist). From what I’ve heard of the CD so far it’s pretty out there, but the book is very cool. It’s half writings from the band members and half photo book from their photographer. The missus also picked up This Must be the Place, a book about the Talking Heads (a band who, like Wilco, were never afraid to experiment with their sound).

3. Jevon Kearse Eagles jersey. A jersey of a defensive lineman (and a guy nicknamed “the Freak”) is so much cooler than one of T.O. or McNabb. The missus lucked out here, because she tried to get those two jerseys first.

4. Alton Brown T-Shirt. This one was the missus most inventive gift. I never ever even thought of getting a shirt from my favorite TV chef, but she surprises me with this. Things like this show that she really does listen to me when I babble on and on.

5. Trivial Pursuit SNL Edition. This was from my goddaughter and I think I could probably talk my neighbors into getting together for this game (we do corny things like game nights). The only problem is that I really haven’t regularly watched Saturday Night Live since Phil Hartman left.

6. The Beer Lover’s Rating Guide and a six-pack of beer. From my godson. Isn’t that what the whole godparent thing is all about, getting beer from your religious ward? And he did his research (or more likely his mom did) because he got me a six of Lancaster Brewing Milk Stout, a favorite that’s not easy to track down.

7. A framed 8x10 of one of my photos. From the boys. I knew that the missus had been thinking of getting one of my pictures framed, but I never expected it to be an 8x10. I was floored by this gift. She let the seven-year-old pick which photo and he ended up selecting one I shot at the farmers market that I take the boys to every Saturday. That made it even more special.

So as you can see, I made out quite all right. Even without the gifts I would have know I have a wonderful family. Of course, they would have been even more wonderful if they could have come up with that $10,000 lawnmower.

Mow Mow Mow

For those who have waited until the last minute to get The Accidental Blogist a Christmas gift, here’s a suggestion:

The Dixie Chopper Xtreme Mowchine! A 32-horsepower mowing monster capable of going 15 M.P.H. and cutting eight acres in an hour. At that rate it would take me about two minutes to do my whole yard! As the Dixie Chopper website says, “This mower will make you the envy of your competition.” I didn't even know I had lawn-mowing competition, but I like the idea of them being envious of me.

For those not willing to spend $10,200 on me, you could just head over to The American Street and cast a vote for Ipso Photo as best Photo Blog. eRobin over at Fact-esque was kind enough to nominate my Photo Blog for a Perranoski Prize. I’m trying not to whore for votes, but if you feel so inclined to vote (after checking out Ipso Photo, of course), I won’t stop you.

R.I.P. Jasmine

I took this picture of my jasmine plant (which I had so cleverly named "Jasmine") at work last week, just before I attempted life-saving measures (like remembering to water it). No luck. Jasmine is dead, dead, dead. This plant had a shorter life span of any plant I've had at work and took way too much care. I'll never buy this kind again. That's right, I'm not longer a jasmine guy.

Yule Time

On a related note to yesterday’s post, my Christmas wish list entered the hardware department Sunday, thanks to a couple Black & Decker ads during the Eagles game.

The Black & Decker BULLSEYE Crosshair 90-Degree Auto Leveling Laser is a lot like the Bullet Laser Level that I’ve wanted for a while, except it shoots a laser both horizontally and vertically. As the missus knows, asking me to hang a picture brings about procrastination on an epic scale. That’s because very few things can ruin my day more than hanging a picture crooked. This isn’t just a tool; it’s a marriage saver.

The Black & Decker ATM100 25' Auto Tape Measure is more of a toy than a necessity, but what a jaw-dropping toy. A tape measure that retracts and extends at the touch of a button? Pinch me. I consider myself a connoisseur of tape measures, and while I’ll never give up my Stanley PowerLock, the ATM100 would instantly gain a spot of honor on my workbench.

If you’re keeping track, here are the other Christmas wishes I have made. I’ve also listed them on my sidebar, under “Wishing for…” (I don’t even pretend to think that many people care, but the missus keeps bugging me about making a list).

Geek Alert

I almost forgot, today is GIS Day! Woo Hoo!

Whit or Whitout You

In a move that has probably pushed my interest in my alma mater, Rowan University, from simply worrisome to outright pathetic, fourteen years after graduating I have subscribed to the email version of the school paper, the Whit.

While it's always fun reading the words of would-be journalists (just like it's fun to listen to would-be DJs' trying to sound cool doing college station IDs), I am impressed with what the paper has done with the Crime Log since I left what was then Glassboro State College.

The Crime Log, once a dry listing of almost word-for-word police reports, now includes snarky comments. An example:

An officer on bike patrol noticed two males walking on the sidewalk in the area of Rowan Hall. According to the police report, "As I arrived to check their well-being I noticed an odor consistent with what is commonly referred to as marijuana."

The officer also noticed one of the subjects had a cigarette-like object in his left hand. He asked what it was, and the subject handed the officer what looked like a homemade cigarette without a filter. Upon close inspection "it appeared to be what is commonly referred to as a joint." The subject continued to claim that the two were just sharing a cigarette.

There was too much thinking to be done for one officer to handle, and backup was requested. Another officer arrived in short time and with their combined brain capacity they were quickly able to determine that the item in question was marijuana. Both subjects were detained and brought back to Public Safety headquarters.

I'm not trying to slam campus police officers - or police officers in general, and believe me I'm glad my work isn't under scrutiny like theirs is, but when you put "...what is commonly referred to as marijuana" in your police report, it's not too hard to ridicule it. It's like shooting fish in what is commonly referred to as a barrel.

While the Crime Log gets some of its laughs at the campus police's expense, many entries show just how smart some students are:

In yet another testament to how intelligent potheads are, an officer on routine patrol noticed a subject smoking a glass pipe in plain view in a public place. There was smoke emanating from the pipe and the officer recalled detecting the smell as marijuana from the past. As the subject was approached he attempted to place the pipe between his body and a bench. The subject was asked what he was smoking in the glass pipe and he responded "marijuana." The subject was then identified and asked if he had anything else on him. At this point, the subject pulled out medical bottle containing a leafy green vegetation and placed it on the bench beside the glass pipe.

Some are just funny at no one's expense:

Unknown suspect(s) have pilfered the "Welcome Back Alumni" sign which was hanging from the porch area in front of the Alumni House. "Both the zip ties and nylon strap were found at the scene and appeared to be cut by a cutting device". The sign is valued at approximately $180.00. Officers are on the lookout for anyone cordially welcoming back alumni.

By the way, the name the Whit follows a fine Glassboro tradition of naming things for some obscure reason. The school nickname is the Profs because Glassboro/Rowan was once a "teacher's college" - just like every other state university in New Jersey! How many of them are named after that fiercely intimidating occupation? Zero. The Whit takes its name from the Whitney family, who as you surely know owned the glass factory that gave the town its name - about a billion years ago. Of course everyone just assumes that Rowan journalism majors can't spell Wit.

That's Me in the Corner

Always on the lookout for both interesting things to photograph and to blog about, I have stumbled upon the Mirror Project, a "growing community of like-minded individuals who have photographed themselves in all manner of reflective surfaces".

Lucky for me, I came across this site shortly after taking a picture of the crowd behind the stage at the Philly Kerry rally, as seen reflected in a parking garage traffic mirror. I really liked that shot, so I submitted about a week ago. Since then I have taken the Mirror Project as a challenge to be on the lookout for interesting reflective surfaces to shoot. The fact that I'm not real crazy about putting my face out on the web (trust me, we're all better off without it out there) forces me to be a little more creative.

This week I sent in the above photo, and they posted it here. I'm more proud of the bumper sticker than I am of this photo (the Mirror Project actually hosts all the photos and require them to be under 30 meg, so the quality of the image isn't the greatest). If you can pull yourself away from my ears, I think the way my son's beach ball in the truck perfectly encircles the reflection of the camera is pretty cool (I didn't plan that). The fact that I still have a beach ball in my truck tells you how often I clean it out. For those keeping count, my truck has now made it on my blog twice in the last ten days.

Take a look around the site, for such a simple premise it's really pretty cool.