Sunday December 31 there's still time:
MEtRoday: none
Get your drank on. If you forgot to get that champagne for tonight or drank it all at last night's pre-party, relax. DC liquor stores are open until 4:00 today. Strike down that blue law for good!
See the light. Blur bassist Alex James finds balance in nature. And returns a carnivore.
Become a dove. Make a commitment for peace.
Pray for a miracle. The Zicam is not working fast enough! :cough, sniffle, back to bed:
Saturday December 30 medicated
MEtRoday: none
There are so many OTC cold meds that it literally took me two trips to the CVS to find the Zicam swabs. The first was yesteday, after I left work. I couldn't find it and was so overwhelmed by the products that I had to leave.
Then I decided I should take my bike to the bike shop, since it was mid-Friday afternoon and they shouldn't be too busy. I'm telling the guy that the thing with the thing is either bent or loose, and these aren't working properly and this thing here rubs against that and makes this really bad noise when I try to switch gears. He's got the bike up in the rack and is looking at everything, testing the chain, etc. He asks "How attached are you to this bike?" Um, not really, I mean it was Ziska's and all but I don't feel any emotional attachment for it or anything. He proceeds to tell me how much this is going to cost, and I'm trying to decide whether it's worth it to sink $200 into this bike when maybe I should just get a new one. So he shows me the low-range bikes they have available and there's a nice gun-metal gray one. And looking at Z's white bike while in the rack, I'm noticing how chipped the paint all is, how the seat starting to fray in three places, how dirty with grease it is, the broke front brake, the bent pedal sprocket, the stretched chain, the bent sprocket shifter. Maybe it is time for a new bike.
Tonight, after a return trip to the CVS, I discovered the recommended Zicam swabs. I also grabbed three frozen orange juice cans, a 2-liter diet ginger ale and a 1-liter water from the North Korean. My lips are so dehydrated they look like Angelina Jolie's. Eww.
I've been watching lots of videos in bed this weekend (Lost, Golden Girls) and now I've just put in Battlestar Galactia. Yes, the cheesy 70's one. Although iTunes has recently offered this for download, which I thought would be kinda fun, I figured after about 2.5 episodes it would be painful to sit through. So I'm working it through Netflix instead. So, five minutes into the first episode, Apollo's younger brother Zack is introduced (who has died pre-story in the new BG) and who is playing the character? None other than Mr. Rick Springfield. Yes. I think he has about two more minutes of airtime until something tragically goes wrong… and now he's dead. Cue casting call for Dr. Noah Drake, to ICU to cure a case of heartbreak. (This last link contains fab roller-disco sound.)
BSG Classic Update: Starbuck actually says "Frak!" He also uses "Feldercarb" which aparently means the full-on mofo version of Frak. In addition, he answers someone with "Yo!" erasing my first reference of its use with the Police video of "Don't Stand So Close To Me 86", which when it faded out it said "Yo!!" on the screen. There's one more term used in BSG-C that I think should have a resurgence in Sci Fi's remake, and that is "Socialator". It means prostitute. BSGeeks should click here for everything they ever, ever wanted to know.
Friday December 29 just this week
MEtRoday: 
4063,
2021, 2002,
3052, 
1009
I've had use of Goldy's car since Sunday, when I dropped her off at the airport. I've been able to make it from home-to-work in twelve minutes. I realize traffic is a little light because of the holidays, but it still amazes me. Maybe it's time to get one of those new iPods so I can watch video during my one-way hour commute.
Wednesday I went to dinner with Single at The Childe Harold. Something of a DC institution, TCH is almost hidden among the foot traffic of Dupont Circle. It's located on 20th, off that little triangle park just to the right of the Q St exit Metro. I hadn't been there in years, TCH being one of those places that when you hear about, you're still surprised it's even there. Downstairs is a pub, upstairs is dining with tablecloths. Odd, huh? I got there first so I sat at the bar and ordered a cocktail from Peter, the friendly bartender. When Single arrived, he had a drink and we decided to stay put and eat at the bar. I ordered a Seafood Mixed Grill Caesar Salad, which for $16 bucks I thought was a little pricey. I expected a few shromps thrown about a typical salad. Boy, was I surprised. A good sized salad, it literally came covered in seafood. Shromps, scallops and tuna in big chunky grilled portions, justifying the menu price. I sampled Single's French Onion Soup and it was quite delicious, too. We talked about Single's new book project, which I'm not at liberty to discuss; I've been sworn to secrecy.
Thursday was JoyLuck, and Katie Ryann was bringing YumYum up from South Carolina, having been down to visit with his family for Xmas. Katie gave us boys black t-shirts that say "betch" in fuschia. If you don't know what "betch" means, you better should ask somebody.
I invited Robamos to come along because we were going to venture over to 30° for Jimbo's burfday party. I met Jimbo once briefly years ago, when he had just moved to town. But I've been reading his blog for a while, he updates frequently and writes about interesting topics. When introduced he said "Oh yeah, I've seen your blog. You're artistic, huh?" Which of course made me just gush, I mean, THE Jimbo had clicked on over to fuju. And remembered it. Carl was also there, I know him from the downstairs Blowoff days. It had been a while since I'd talked to him, because it's been a while since I've been to Blowoff.
It was when Robamos and I were walking back to the car that I started to feel THE COUGH. There's been a nasty cold floating around and it seems I was flirting with taking it on a 3-day bender. Waking up this morning I realized yep, it's here to stay for a bit. So I worked a half-day, and then came home, I'm writing this and then I'm getting in bed. If it's a 3DC (three day cold) then I should be just fine for New Year's Eve festivities, right?
Tuesday December 26 23 going on 43
MEtRoday: none
Last night, driving home from my parents house for the holiday, I popped in a CD of an 80s pop star, singing a cover of Rose Royce's "Love Don't Live Here Anymore" and it is this song, out of all on the album, that determines the longevity of this artist. The other songs are schlepped through with so much bubble gum it almost makes you gag. But at least on this song, she belts it out. This CD is 23 years old.
Ironically, I found a photo of me when I was 23 while I was home. Apparently I was home from school for the holidays; the date of developing stamped on the back is January 87. I am in front of a birthday cake, blowing out candles. My hair is pouffy with too much mousse, and my cheeks are thin, thin, thin. I am wearing a red University of Houston sweatshirt. I didn't ask permission to take this photo with me.
My mother took cake decorating classes in 1972 and she would make all of our (mine and my brothers') birthday cakes. She followed a two-egg cake recipe from an over-stuffed Betty Crocker cookbook and made and colored the icing by hand. She decorated our cakes with roses that were very difficult to get just right, and added a border of flowerettes in our favorite color, always with a theme of whatever we were into that year.
While I was home, almost by rote, there was a birthday cake for me. I'm too old for this now, but I go along with it. Especially now that my niece helps me blow out the candles. This was a storebought cake, because my Mother's hands no longer work now. They're starting to curl despite the exercises she is put through. She has ALS.
My father and oldest brother are overloaded with taking care of my mother, so when I'm home I try to help out where I can. I'm unfamiliar with the routine of direct caregiving for my Mom, so my brother and Dad usually step in and do that, which makes me feel pretty helpless, like a bystander. Instead, I cook and do laundry and wipe down the kitchen counters. I try to stay out of the way. On Christmas day I cooked and carved a 24-lb turkey, and glazed and carved the ham. I also assisted my Mother in going to the bathroom for the first time in my life, but it probably won't be the last. Since she cannot stand, she needs someone to lift her out of the wheelchair by a belt she wears around her abdomen. After lifting her to a standing position you can slowly rotate her into the direction she needs to go, then you release her down onto whatever she's to be sitting on: chair, car seat, toilet. It was embarrasing and awkward, but this is what needs to be done. I'm glad I was there for her that time.
MEtRoday: none
I only saw James Brown perform live once. Fab5Fabio and Summer had tickets to see him at 9:30 Club, but by the time the show came 'round Summer was too pregnant to feel comfortable standing in a general admission sold-out show. So F5F asked me if I wanted to go. For F5F is was all about the cape: James coming out in it, spinning around in it and the whipping it off. I can't recall exactly what the cape looked like, but I'm sure it was bright green or something on the inside, black with rhinestones on the outside. The part of the show I remembered most was how he let the members of his band take long solos and really share the spotlight with him. James Brown, the Godfather of Soul, dead today at 73.
Saturday December 23 a cola manufacturer is sponsoring the war
MEtRoday: none
As a rule, I don't post pictures here from other websites, but this one I find troubling and very callous. This first image is taken from a CNN story about rising airline ticket fares. In place of the panic-driven image normally provided is this stock infographic, this oddly angled plane is displayed, and copied here:
Um, okay, what does this banking plane have to do with ticket costs? Not much. Imagine being on the 78th floor of, say, a 110 story office building. You see this bizarre occurance of a plane heading directly towards you. Of course, we all saw it looking something like this (lifted from Mr. Coupland):
Is anyone at CNN aware?
Friday
December 22
i have not been that naughty
MEtRoday: O5065, Y3283, Y3035, Y2029, O2012
Since there are only three more shopping days until Xmas, I will understand if my gift arrives late. If you're still having difficulty picking something out for me, won't you please consider these:
This may not help my Mom, but it will help future patients;
To put me in motion;
Anything from here;
I'm still waiting for one of these. Zipperoni just got one and she says it sounds fab;
or even this would be fun.
I don't want to get too greedy, so I'll leave the list at that. Happy shopping.
---
Oh! I received my birthday present from Melbinger yesterday. It's a Ducti wallet! She bought me this really cool encased-in-plastic SAT test form wallet a couple of years ago, and I had pretty much worn it out. This one has a lifetime guarantee; anytime it starts deteriorating I can send it to Ducti and they will replace it, free. Sweet. (To celebrate its arrival, we're going to show it off at La Lomita tonight.)
Thursday December 21 the daily commute
MEtRoday: B1237, Y3047, Y3106, O3208
Yesterday I traveled to Philly again, to complete the press inspection from last Friday. I bought an Acela 8:07 return trip ticket; I wasn't sure when we would end, I was hoping no later than eight o'clock, but knew that I could trade the ticket in for any of the trains that were heading south that day.
On the way up, I watched The Last Picture Show on the iBook. I was amazed to see how young and beautiful Cybill Shepherd and Jeff Bridges were. Jeff looked about 14 and Cybill looked 15. It was filmed in 1971 but set in 1951. A lot of well-known people are in this movie: Ellen Burstyn, Cloris Leachman (see previous post), Eileen Brennan and Randy Quaid. This is one of the movies I added to my Netflix queue when I joined, movies I'd heard about but never seen. Other examples are Paper Moon, Dog Day Afternoon and THX:1138.
We finished around four, so I was in touch with EFP to meet up for dinner and some drinks before my train left. He wanted to meet at Swanky Bubbles, a sushi bar. I got there around 4:30 and they told me they weren't open yet, so I went around the corner to Continental, where I had had dinner last week. I had a martini and waited for EFP to show. It's the height of the rush hour, so it takes him a while to show up. He finally gets there, we have a drink and ate some steak tartar. We steal menus. Actually, EFP paid for his, but I stole mine. The bartender said we could. We're keeping them as design references. The type is great, nice lineart.
So from there we bust back to Swanky Bubbles which is now fully open for dinner. We have some sushi there and the most delicious salad I have had in a long time. EFP, what was that salad called?
After dinner I decide to take a later train so that I could spend time with EFP. It was so good to see his face! We talk on the phone all the time, for hours on end, but it was great to be in the same room. We repeat my path from last week: Bump, Woody's. Then it's time for me to get on the train home. We make it to the station with time to spare and I hope on my train, sitting in the cafe car because the heat was blasting on the other cars.
On the way home, I started watching A Streetcar Named Desire, a movie released in 1951 but looked like 1931. What a chore. Such a clash, with Vivien Leigh so overacting in the role of Blanche, just like she was trained 20 years previously. Obviously the other castmembers, young guns Marlon Brando and Karl Malden are definitely from a generation later, where realism has risen above histrionics. It was like watching Bobby Trendy onstage with the fire exits welded shut. But at least now I've seen it. Next!
Tuesday December 19 mtm, season ii
MEtRoday: Monday O4069, Y3045, Y3099, B1110; Tuesday B3032, Y3213, Y2056, B5116
Okay, bear with me because I just can't let that 3099 train slip by without diagramming it. Plus let's link two days together. A fuju first!
Thank you. Now, on to today's tidbits: When I first signed up by Netflix, I could bust through three movies a week. I'm on the plan that allows me to have three discs at home at one time, and I really wanted to get my money's worth. Now I've found that if I've received a motion picture, it will sit there for three weeks or so before I finally watch it or admit defeat and send it back. Television shows on DVD, now that's a different story. I can blow through a disc of four one-hour or one of eight 30-minute episodes in no time flat. Maybe my attention space for two consecutive hours is waning.
Remember the horror when I found out the Mary Tyler Moore lyrics were originally different than they were in my memory? I surely do. Rest assured the familiar "You're Gonna Make It After All!" lyrics are in place for Season 2. I know: collective sigh. The visuals for the opening credits are different, too. No longer is Mary saying goodbye at an office party and striking out on her own; now she's carrying groceries in downtown Minneapolis, petting dogs in the park and waving to children playing in the snow. There's even a blooper shot of Mary and Cloris Leachman's character, Phyllis, as they crack up and directly face the audience and camera.
Other subtle differences include Mary's new wardrobe (which is not as fab as Season 1). It's now more career-gal oriented, as opposed to the youthful funky mismatch that only the 70s could have produced. This season's wardrobe (MTM only) is furnished by Norman Todd, while Mary was decked out in Evan Picone for the premiere season. Her character is actually considered "management" now, while previously she was barely one rung above the secretary pool.
I also never knew John Amos was a semi-regular on this show (he was in Season 1, too). I only remember him from Good Times. Good times, indeed.
Sunday December 17 early morning ramblings
MEtRoday: none
Why can't I sleep-in anymore? After getting home last night I chatted with EFP for a bit while we both played The Sims. Going to bed at 4, I was looking forward to sleeping a long time and waking up on a lazy Sunday. Instead, it's 8:58 AM and I'm awake. As EFP said last night, I'm becoming an old fart. Damn.
Is Time magazine's decision to name YOU as person of the year absolutely stupid or what? Someone over there is getting paid a helluva lot of money to not think anything at all. I think they've lost their way.
Did you know that iTunes has BSG Classic now?
Last night recap: Buck's party, where I definitely did not eat all the shromps no matter what you say, and then the Mill, where we brought sexy back.
Friday December 15 i heart cheesesteaks
MEtRoday: O5045, Y5006, Y2053, O2029, O3044
I'm back from Philly a little sooner than expected. Turns out the press sheets weren't dry enough to back up, so we couldn't run anything. Therefore I didn't need to stay overnight at the fabulous Omni Grand, just one simple block from Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell, but it sure was nice. Let's rewind to yesterday morning:
I wake up on time to make my 7:25 train without having to run to Union Station as I've done so many times before. Bagels and Baguettes, where I wanted to grab a coffee and a sun-dried tomato bagel with veggie cream cheese, is not open yet. Instead of waiting the few minutes for it to open, I decided to grab something at the station. Au bon pain is open and doing quite a bustling business, so I order a delicious salmon/wasabi/cucumber bagel and a large coffee. I'm living out my northeast businessman commuting fantasy: luggage and laptop in tow, early morning departures, going to another city by train for work. I am someone.
Yesterday's press inspection ended around 7, so i was getting to the hotel around cocktail/dinner time. EFP recommended that I go to Cuba Libre for dinner, which was just around the corner. Cuban tapas with an extended rum menu? I'm there! Unfortunately there was a private party (I thought I looked a little underdressed). Instead, I headed west to walk around, explore Center City, and see if anything struck my fancy. EFP also recommended Bump and Woody's, but those were dead, dead, dead.
I cabbed back to the hotel and walked the couple of blocks to The Continental. I sit at the bar, order a 'tini and peruse the menu. Am I a little far north to be ordering crab cakes, a dish associated with Maryland? Yes, I think so. Then I see an item that sounds pretty interesting: Cheesesteak Eggroll. I should mention here that for lunch, I ordered a cheesesteak (you never say "Philly Steak & Cheese") with hot peppers and onion rings, because that was what was 'splained to me as the local fare. I obliged. So I'm sitting here in Cocktail reading about this Cheesesteak Eggroll served with crispy onions and sriracha ketchup. I ask Miss Bartender what is up with this thing and had I been in DC I would have heard this: "Well, I don't eat meat, but everyone seems to enjoy it." Instead I heard this, accompanied with a eyes-roll-back-in-the-head and a hand-over-stomach-swirl: "Oh. Yeah." So I had to order it. A few bites into it, my eyes rolled back in the head, my hand instinctively went to my stomach and moved in a circular motion, and my mouth tried to utter OH YEAH without spitting out any of the delish deep-fried cheesesteak.
There aren't many pix, and I'm kicking myself for not taking some at night, even though it was über-foggy. Especially the Liberty Bell. So I left the camera in the room. And seriously, if I'm sitting there alone having a drink or dinner and whipping out my camera to take a picture of my dinner plate you just know everybody around me would be thinking "Look at that dork. He's taking a picture of his dinner plate. He's probably gonna, like, post that on his blog or something. Fer shurr."
Fast foward to this morning, after learning the day was shot:
I came back this morning on the also fabulous Acela. My last experience on the Acela was a few years ago when I was coming home from New York City. I had scheduled a Sunday late afternoon trip back. I'm there at the Grand Central, and who do I see there, and also waiting for the same train? Fab5Fabio! We boarded the train, went straight for the cafe car, and sat there the entire trip back down to DC, drinking beers and having a great time. This is why I never knew these things about the Acela: the seats are pretty much the same, but legroom is plentiful on trains; the windows are twice as tall as normal trains, similar to being on a bus; the doors in between cars open automatically when you approach them, just like Star Trek; the Star Trek doors are glass, instead of metal with a glass porthole. Things I know now about the Acela but didn't learn from riding it: it has hydraulics that will tilt the train when it enters a curve. This allows it to travel at higher speeds without flinging the passengers and their traytop belongings all over the place. I could feel and see it tilt. Pretty cool.
Miscellaneous observations:
passersby
on the street will actually say "bless you" if you sneeze
lawyers
here are viewed as bipartisan assholes
cabs
are incredibly cheap
alleys are called "streets"
And here's the zinger: the Acela left at 11:07 and arrived at 12:45. Door to door going to work this afternoon was 1:20 to 2:33. You do the math. Okay, I'll do it for you. Philly is 1:38 commute time while Capitol Hill to Alexandria, a mere six miles away, is 1:13. So basically I could work in Philadelphia!
Wednesday December 13 i like watching the puddles gather rain
MEtRoday: B2020, Y3006, O3040
The escalators at Metro stations are notoriously out-of-service. Metro blames the escalators unreliability on the fact that they are exposed to the elements. I blame it on the fact that there are six Metro mechanics assigned to the repairs, but only one is working on them while the other five check out the ladies going to work in the morning. If all of them would work together, or be distributed to different stations, maybe the escalators would be out of commish for a day or two instead of a week or two (or three).
Several years ago Metro decided to do something about this. The escalators that is, not the mechanics. They held a design competition to propose coverings for the exposed escalators. Lourie & Chenoweth, an architectural firm in Silver Spring, won the $27 million project by proposing a gently arcing vaulted glass curtain wall style canopy. I wasn't too thrilled with the winning design, but I do appreciate how the canopy supports are integrated into the existing marble railing, and that it is lifted and appears to float above the entrance/exit. At least DC is getting some curves added to its streetscape.
Here are some pics of the Eastern Market Station having its canopy installed last weekend. This is the first of the canopies I've seen that has a lot of open space around it; most are right next to a building and it looks too cramped, like the canopy fell off the building and landed on the Metro entrance. So I have softened my dislike for the design, especially after seeing this one which appears more sculptural. I just hope that thing isn't going to retain heat underground during the summer. What do you think of it?
I'm off to Philly tomorrow for a two-day press inspection. I'll be riding a different kind of train up there and back. Going up it's just the regional, but on the return trip it's an Acela!
Tuesday
December 12
i'm a big weiner winner
MEtRoday: O5095, Y2068, Y3054, O4040
I just won the first ever "Quote of the Month" contest over on Patrick's Words, and I won it with a weiner! Unfortunately I did not actually win a weiner, because one of those cheese-filled ones would be really tasty right now. OMG I just saw the fat content in those and I don't think I'll be eating of one those ever again. But maybe a fat-free one. Instead, Patrick is sending me an iTunes giftcard, and that's pretty darn sweet too. Any suggestions on which songs I should buy with it?
My winning entry was Jennifer Coolidge's classic line from Legally Blonde: "Makes me want a hot dog real bad." Patrick's going to hold this contest once a month, so check back often, enter something clever and maybe you can win next month!
And while I'm checking out everybody's html, you can go to Johnny's site and get some fun 80s mp3s that you know you want but won't admit to.
And here's a little clip (has sound) from Billy from Brooklyn-based Vic Thrill that was in my inbox today. I know Billy from my friend Mary Mayhem. They both rawk.
And here's Zip-a-dee-doo-dah's still-funny-to-this-day Servus movie.
Monday December 11 birthday weekend rewind
MEtRoday: B3288, Y2004, Y5115, B1275
Saturday night was Kristin's treetrimming party. Melba gave me a ride over, and Tamara and the Castralones were also there. Kristin made a most excellent chili, me and Melba brought Fritos Scoops and there was plenty of wine, so we were all set! Kristin's downstairs is now full with her father's vinyl records. And what a collection. Lots of it was 50s doowop, even groups I had never heard of. She had a turntable out so we all took turns picking a disc and playing it. I miss those pops and crackles! And some of the snaps, too.
Sunday I walked down to Trusty's, wanting to leave the bike at home so that way I could get dropped off or walk back and not have to worry about balancing on two wheels. It was a pretty good turnout even with some last minute cancellations. Let me see if I can remember everyone who attended: Miss Bernice and Guila, whom I had met at her party this summer, Melba, NeighJay, Katie, Jeff, Chris, Buck, Ateya, Eddy, Roro and Goldy. Did I forget anybody? I hope not. We had cocktails, cheeseburgers and lots of fun. After the first football game we were able to hijack the jukebox and shook out our groove thangs. Afterwards, we mosied up the block to La Lomita and had dinner. What a great way to end my great day! Thank you to everyone who showed up and contributed.
Also I received the the most adorable voicemail from my niece, Sarah Jane, singing me a Happy Birthday. My Dad helped her with some of the words. And this (has sound) was in my mailbox from the Thalhammers o' Munich. These were the best presents of all! Dasher barked me a happy bday, too, which was very enjoyable.
Sunday December 10 happy birthday to me, or, sir can i help you get your face off of the street?
MEtRoday: none
This is how my birthday started, just barely past midnight: On the way home from Kristin's tree-trimming party, we were giving Tamara a ride home and she lives off 14th St. So as we're heading thru the newly renovated Thomas Circle and passing New Hampshire, I see what I think is a man face-down in the newly existing bike lane, basically in the skreet. We pass and pull up to the light, and at this time I mention what I think I saw. Melba asks if I want to circle the block, and I decide it would probably be best, I mean how many glasses of wine did I have? We circle around and sure enough, there is a man laying face-down in the newly existing bike lane, basically in the skreet.
I get out of the car and walk over to this man. He is dressed is a black leather motorcycle jacket, jeans and leather chaps. His leather motorcycle cap is lying a few inches away from his head. I'm assuming he's come from the Green Lantern or the Crew Club. I attempt a dialogue with him, telling him that he needs to get out of the street and onto the sidewalk. He mumbles incoherently. I start to lift him up by his shoulders and then realize the contorted way his legs are positioned and, thinking he may be injured, lay him back down. At this time four other 'mos come up and starting asking if my friend and I need help. I inform them I am trying to help him out, that I don't know him, and they join in on the rescue attempt. We're all trying to get him to speak, to determine where he needs to go and if we can get him a cab or something.
At this point he's started to raise himself up, his legs aren't injured, he can stand, I've put his cap on his head, and we have him leaning against the back side fender of the car he was lying next to. He's apparently only WAY drunk, but trying to move him to the sidewalk is still a chore, trying to move 180 lbs of dead drunken weight. And then he takes off his hat and smacks it straight across my face. Why? Right about now I'm ready to let this fucker stagger into traffic and walk away. WHOMP! There it is. Learn what it's like to have 4000 lbs of American steel slamming into your bones. Instead I stand there, hands raised, away from his body, and still sheilding him from oncoming traffic. The Four take over at this point, trying to retrieve information from him just as the ambulance arrives. He begins to be aware of what is happening at this point, saying "I don't need this!", referring to the ambulance and the accompanying police force, but I'm thinking, if you're lying face down in the street, yeah, you probably do need all this help. The paramedics and police are in full force now so I retreat to Melba's car, not wanting to give a statement to the po-po because it seems pretty obvious that this guy needs help, and the Four are still there, and they know the story of me showing up before them.
Start of birthday karma: 0. Helping drunk man passed out in street: +1000. Blogging about it: -2. Total: +998. I think today is going to be fabulous…
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Come on down to Trusty's for birthday drinks! And cheeseburgers.
Saturday December 09 boy oh boy have i got news for you
MEtRoday: none
In 1978 some visiting ministers were attending the church I went to, and with it being a Baptist church, they had to condemn rock-n-roll music and more importantly condemn DISCO because it forced young people to move their bodies with one another in a manner that was unwholesome. Of course, I couldn't wait to get home from church so I could listen to Donna Summer or Peaches & Herb*. I distinctly remember one of the dorky transient ministers reading off the names of the top ten pop songs, and how filthy he tried to make them seem. I remembered him reading A Taste of Honey's "Boogie Oogie Oogie" but instead of rhyming the Oogie with Boogie he said "Boogie Ewwgie Ewwgie" which of course sent me and my cousin John into fits of giggles. I'm sure once we were home we called WOHN 1440 and requested the song just to make us laugh even harder. Boogie Oogie Oogie is one of those classic disco songs that everybody knows and has one helluva killer baseline, and also was Capitol Record's first platinum-selling single.
Last night on PBS they were running some show about great disco hits and had all the old acts performing live while people from New Jersey danced in the audience. Honest. Most of the artists have ensured that they have enough backing band and singers to make them still sound good, as most of them are gettin' on up in years and this might be their last opportunity to wear the rhinestones in front of a camera. And then sure enough, out comes A Taste of Honey. But wait a minute. These two chicks are playing guitars, not just flailing around while singing like Irene Cara did. One is flickin' a wrist that would make Nile Rodgers stop on a dime, and the other is pluckin' and slappin' this bass like there is no bone in her arm, just muscle. And this isn't the session-playing backup band, this is AToH and they start singing and really putting the Oogie in the Boogie. Talk about commanding respect! Well worth my immediate $0.99 iTunes download. Here's a classic video.
*Peaches & Herb hometown DC r'pr_hzynt!
Friday December 08 how much do you love me and want to make me happy?
MEtRoday: O5040, Y2002, B3046
Still looking for that perfect gift to hand to me on my birthday on Sunday? Inspired by Donald's "Black Friday Gift Guide" on his NSFW weblog/journal/diary…whatever, here's a little shopping list to minimize your hectic shopping time:
247
Sala, a Zürich-based artist, is painting the numbers 1–1000 on 12"
x 12" x 1.5" pieces of canvas. He's using blue numerals on a white
background and I'm playing Name-That-Typeface and at first I thought he was
using Meta or Interstate, but
the "2" isn't right. Then I thought Verdana, but the "8"
isn't right. Identify this typeface someone please. Back to the art: Sala
uses a unique business model: the earlier you buy, the less you pay. First,
the cost is determined by value=1000 minus the number on the painting. The,
it is prorated by how many of the series have already been sold. So in all
likelihood, the last one sold would be the most expensive. It's the opposite
of an outlet
mall. Andy would
have loved it, don't you think? Number
247 is the piece that I want, and
its current price is $602.40. Remember, the longer you wait the most expensive
it's going to be.
Robot
'nuff said.
Mirror,
Mirror
Shine some light.
We
Will Destroy You.
b2d4_003_c, please. Hurry, it's getting chilly.
Keep
on Truckin'
in green, please.
Close
your eyes and click one
BlackBerry Pearl
Smart
Thursday December 07 pre-party
MEtRoday: Wednesday O4043, Y3011, B3105, Y3041, B4005; Thursday B3275, Y2005, B1246
Tonight at JoyLuck, Jeff & Eddy & Goldy & Jen surprised me with a Pixar Cars-themed birthday party! There was a Cars tablecloth, Cars cups, Cars plates, Cars stickers, Cars party hats and then there were some toys cars too. And then they brought out the most colorful cake I had ever seen in my life. It was SpongeBob Squarepants. We sliced out our pieces, called Kristal (who loves cake) in Branson to let her know we were eating cake and that she better hurry if she wanted us to save her a piece. She said she'd see us in April. Hmn. The silliness of the party favors and drinking our cocktails from the Cars paper cups put everyone into a playful food and after we had distributed the remaining cake slices to everyone in Henry's, a minor icing fight broke out at the table. I'm surprised no one was stabbed with the cake knife. Ouch!
From there it was on to Remington's. It was so cold and windy (and snowing!) that most party hats were lost on the 1/2-block walk. The stickers clung though so we had a little festivity to carry in with us. After receiving my spankings, Eddy and I decided to go upstairs and listen to the karaoke but we started singing right along whether we were on the mic or not. Then we karaoked to Prince's “When Doves Cry”, and Katie, Mr Hope and Calvin had shown up, but not all together. We sang Jeff's most favorite song in the whole wide world, “Harper Valley PTA”, by Miss Jeannie C. Riley. (Harper Valley PTA was also covered by Tom T. Hall and Loretta Lynn. Did you know?) Mr Hope and I karaoked to Meatloaf's “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” which was really fun since it tells a story and has roles to sing and parts to play. What a fun night!
MEtRoday: Tuesday B3025, Y3169, Y 3015, B3099
I don't remember much of the week that followed November 5. I have hazy memories of getting slides from 1991 digitized and turned into prints, and buying a magnet slipcase cover to display one of those prints; of wanting to be home all the time, and wanting to get home as quickly as possible. To see how things were. And make sure everything was okay. And make sure everything was going to be okay.
A month later I'm aware of how infrequently the food bowl needs to be refilled and how clean the litter box appears, even if I haven't touched it in a day. I'm greeted at the door by half the commotion. I'm awakened by a different face. Former familiar stakeout spots are unoccupied. I hear only one meow and one purr now, and know there will never be two again. My life is different.
I've often thought about where I would want the Twins™ to live out their lives if something were to happen to me. Of course they could never be separated, they would have to arrive like one of those bulky double-CD cases circa 1988. I would have preferred that they go to a house that had no pets, but I knew that would be a pipe dream, and not an option. You see, the Smarts already had a couple of cats, and now they have more. My parents have my brother's cat. Some friends aren't cat-people. But it seems now I don't have to worry about that question, because nature answered it for me. I'm still looking out for mine, though.
People have asked me how I'm going to address the Twin who is physically still with me. I don't know the answer to this question, but it's a question I asked myself before anyone else did. I can't call her by her medical name, Rattle, because she has no idea who that is. I'm trying to not address her as "Twins", but sometimes I slip and do. When this happens I'm immediately aware of what I've just said and I wonder if she is too. For now I'm trying to call her "Twin", singular; it will be recognizable to her and is something that still reminds me of the Twins™ concept, without being too direct. This concept lives on in my heart, where it will always exist, even if others thought it silly or were too uncaring to understand. Fuck them. I own this and it is real.
Fifteen-and-a-half-years with these two cats has been more than one-third of my life, and more than one-half of my adult life. Now it's down to only the two of us, a different kind of couple for us both. The apartment is quieter, with less activity. And it's a little lonelier. But me and the Twin are watching out for each other.
Monday December 04 stop the madness
MEtRoday: Friday B3047, Y1166, Y3118, B4033; Monday O5137, Y2071, B1235, Y3082, B5129
This weekend I did a very bad thing. All weekend long, I ate pizza. Frozen pizza, delivered pizza, cold leftover pizza. If I had some of those mini-bagels I probably would have made some mini-pizzas. This is definitely not the time of year to be going on a pizza bender, with the abundance of large meals and special treats showing up. I may need intervention, so please have your cell phone handy.
Monday's Soduku puzzles are so easy; I completed it before I arrived at Federal Center, SW (two stops).
I thought I was going to be able to go to Philadelphia later this week for work, and stay the weekend with EFP in Wilmington for my birthday weekend. But know it looks as if the press inspection in Philly won't be until mid next week so expect some on-the-road posting—but wait, I don't think the work iBook has Dreamweaver on it, so I may not be able to post them until I get back. We'll see.
The friendly fued between Jimbo and Durban Bud's lips is amusing. (I personally know neither of these people.)
Don't you love it when people get special treatment just for doing their jobs? This article on WaPo talks about mobile journalists, or as they put it, "mojos". Mojos are reporters who have cell phones and internet-enabled laptops so they can be on the beat, catching the latest news story instead of tied to their Solitaire game on their PC in the office. Isn't this what they're supposed to be doing anyway? Stories just don't drop into your lap unless you're recycling what the PR companies are faxing to you, which is often the case these days: "OMG, McDonald's is offering Happy Feet Happy Meals? Let's report it! And I didn't even have to get out of my chair!" If Lois Lane had a cellphone, much less a laptop, in 1977 I'm sure she wouldn't be sitting there at her IBM Selectric all day. Now if only WaPo reporters would do the same maybe their site wouldn't be such a yawnfest.
Some notes from the weekend:
• flipping through channels, I stumbled upon the pilot for the original Star Trek. They all wore hip velour clothing and sat in Eero Saarinen Tulip Chairs. Saarinen's most famous buildings are Dulles Airport, the St. Louis Gateway Arch, and the TWA Terminal at Kennedy Airport. (Did you know the Gateway Arch is 630 ft tall and its base is 630 ft wide? What glorious geometry!) The National Building Museum will host the exhibit Eero Saarinen: Shaping The Future from May 3 to August 23, 2008. Go and see it.
• with all the pizza I was devouring, I decided I needed to go to Leticia's 5:00 spinning class. She's a demanding instructor, but an encouraging coach. The class was pretty full, since it's starting to get cold and people don't want to ride outside. Because of that, she's focusing the Sunday class more towards cardio then strength training, and that was fine with me. Our ride: eight-minute sprints starting with light tension flat road at 80%, seated, with 30-second random sprints at 100%, followed by three minutes of standing recovery. This was repeated two more times with more tension during the eight-minute sessions. Then we did three six-minute standing climbing hill sessions, each successively steeper, with three-minute optional-standing flat road recoveries, which I did. Hopefully I worked off a slice or two.
• do you ever sit and wonder just exactly how much DD I listen to? Now you'll be able to sleep better at nights. I've signed onto last.fm, which keeps track of recently played tracks, just like iTunes does. You can see my recently listened to songs, as well as weekly totals by artist by clicking here, here or here. They say you can track your iPod listenings, too, but that hasn't worked for me. Maybe they're speaking of listening off of your iPod through iTunes, as opposed to listening to your iPod through earbuds (commuting, disco dancing, dodging cars through traffic, etc).