CrankyInColumbiaMD

Athletes and Artists Are Not Character Role Models

2011-07-08T11:30:00.000-04:00

Tiger Woods
Tim Tebow
Britney Spears
Lindsay Lohan
Michael Phelps

They're artists and athletes, not role models. While you can admire their drive, ambition, work ethic, singing ability, athleticism, guitar-playing, ball-throwing, etc, don't make the mistake of expecting perfection. Wouldn't kids be better served with a dose of reality? "Sure, she's beautiful and has a lucrative recording contract, but she's lonely, struggles with depression and drugs and makes bad decisions sometimes."

Phelps may be an Olympian, but all that proves is he can swim faster than other men in his age group. It doesn't mean he's a model of emotional stability and moral fortitude. We don't pay these people to teach us values, we pay them to perform. They have talents and they've worked hard to develop them, and, as a result, are financially successful. Doesn't make them a math whiz or a poet, or a particularly moral person. Celebrities demonstrate drive and discipline in one area of their life, and beyond entertainment value, their actions have no bearing on the rest of us.

Politicians are a different story. They are chosen by citizens, or appointed by our elected representatives to create, interpret and enforce laws and public policy. If they have the power to tell me what to do with my money, body and personal property, then they need to walk the talk.

Eliot Spitzer

John Edwards
Rod Blagojevich

Tom DeLay

Anthony Weiner

The above are just a few of the recent scandal perpetrators in public office. These guys sold us a bill of goods, and deserve to be punished. Regardless of where you stand on the violations in question - misusing campaign funds to cover up an affair and illegitimate child, frequenting prostitutes, violating ethics rules, bribery, or just outright lying and stealing, these activities were condemned by the very people who committed them. If one of us were caught doing the same they would lead the charge to lock us up and throw away the key.

So spare me the tirade against Tiger. I don't care what goes on between him and his wife. And tell Tim Tebow to keep his opinions on family planning to himself. But, please keep me informed if Tom DeLay wants to wash that grey right out of his white-collar, and I sure as Hell need to know if Rod Blagojevich puts a U. S. Senate seat on eBay.

The Greatest Non-Story Ever Told

2010-12-11T09:50:00.016-05:00

What the hell is wrong with the Washington Post these days? I swear that paper is turning into a bunch of hacks! First we had Ruth Marcus' patronizing and naive take on the new TSA regulations "Don't touch my junk? Grow up, America."1 And now we have Ian Shapira's piece (of crap), "Telling a mother's story through her Facebook status updates."2

While Marcus' op-ed is offensive, because she is utterly dismissive of the public outcry over our government's violation of our Fourth Amendment rights, the Shapira piece sinks even lower, because it literally takes aim at the craft of journalism. It is, quite simply, one of the most ridiculous excuses for "writing" that I've read lately. It's certainly not news, and it falls so short of analysis that I can only assume he's having sex with his editor (and he must be really, really good). Otherwise, how else could this guy get his "work" (I'm taking liberties with the term) published in a national forum like the Post?

Now don't get me wrong, the circumstances unveiled via Shana Greatman Swers Facebook postings are tragic, and I certainly do not question the depth of her family's loss. Reading her thread reduced me to tears, and I challenge anyone to get through it without having a similar reaction. But to be brutally honest, there was nothing particularly special about this woman, or her family. Why were they singled out for national attention, when plenty of human tragedies unfold each day in cancer wards, domestic violence shelters, refugee camps, foster homes and other places where people go when there's nowhere else to turn for help?

Unfortunately the answer is simply that Ms. Swers' Facebook page was linked to Mr. Shapira's. He literally stumbled across her untimely death via his wife's Facebook news feed, decided to copy and past her status updates with a few annotations, and call it an article. The result being that Ms. Swers' story was catapulted to the national stage in one of the most crass examples of how "who you know" can make you famous.

Probably the saddest thing about this piece is that Shapira missed a terrific opportunity to use Ms. Swers' story as a platform to talk about a variety of larger issues, not the least of which being the disease which struck her down at such a young age. For those who can't stomach the read, Swers passed away roughly one month after the birth of her son from peripartum cardiomyopathy. As someone who just had a baby six months ago, I can relate to how frightening this is, and was surprised that I knew virtually nothing about the disease. I may have seen it mentioned somewhere in my various pregnancy books, but when I learned that it occurs in one out of every 1,300 - 4,000 deliveries, and is most common after age 30, I thought: "Holy cow! Why didn't anybody tell me about this one?!!"

Pregnant women are bombarded with information about what to eat, which activities to avoid, and the various risk factors for everything from drinking coffee and eating Brie to sitting in hot water for too long. Yet, this not-so-rare disease was relegated to the back burner. And why is that? Well, don't hold your breath for Mr. Shapira to tell you. He goes no deeper that to provide a link to the NIH website, as I have also done.

And if women's health is just not Shapira's cup of tea? Well, supposedly he specializes in covering the impact of technology on social communications. So I ask: how the hell did he miss this golden opportunity to explore the role of social media in the grieving process? I've often wondered what happens to a person's Facebook, Twitter, eBay, email, blog, and other online accounts after they die. Do the survivors simply delete the accounts, or leave them up as a memorial to the deceased? What if the next-of-kin doesn't have the password? Can a grieving relative have the accounts removed from the public Internet, but preserve the data, so as to sift through the digital effects of the departed's online life once the initial shock and pain of loss have lessened? Surely there is a larger story here about how Facebook impacts the grieving process - a story that might actually benefit the bereaved by giving them some anecdotes and concrete advice about how to go about handling or dismantling their loved ones' online persona.

Unfortunately for us, Mr. Shapira decided not to dig any deeper. That he then felt justified in participating in a self-congratulatory Q&A session about how he "wrote" (again taking liberties with word choice) the piece is beyond appalling to me. He seems to think what he's done is so cutting edge, but really it's just a copy and paste job. As someone who once aspired to enter the field of journalism, I can only say that Ian Shapira is proof-positive that talent plays a minimal role in the hiring process.

1) http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/11/23/AR2010112305163.html

2) http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/special/metro/facebook-story-mothers-joy-familys-sorrow.html?hpid=topnews

A Dish Tale

2010-06-15T15:10:00.013-04:00

The sounds of a running tap, stacking plates and jangling flatware come from the kitchen. My husband is at it again. He's "cleaning up." And while this should fill me with pride, gratitude and a sense of calm, it tends to have the opposite effect.

I think a lot of people know what I mean when I say this. There are certainly many spouses, room mates and domestic partners who do an excellent job tidying up in the kitchen, but mine still needs some micro-management, er um, supervision.

As I sit in the living room, trapped by the nursing infant in my lap, my mind races through the possibilities. Is he hand-washing the good knives? Will he remember to wash the handles, or does he still think they "don't really get dirty?" Or maybe he's placing the non-stick surface of the frying pan against something sharp and abrasive? And what about those crystal champagne flutes? I picture them crushed under the iron weight of a dutch oven.

Suddenly I hear a sound that truly makes me shudder - the dishwasher being opened. No doubt I will find any number of atrocities the next time I peer inside. Delicate plastic containers, remnants of last night's clean-up efforts where a half cup of berries found themselves swimming in a six-cup Tupperware bowl and a drumstick was crammed into a far too narrow square box, will be carelessly placed on the lower rack, directly above the heating element. Forks and knives, un-rinsed and caked with thick, fatty sauces, all crammed into the same compartment of the silverware tray alongside nested spoons, stacked three deep. And my personal favorite: cereal-encrusted bowls, laid face down, so as to take up the maximum amount of precious top shelf real estate. I'll have to reorganize the entire load before I run it.

But seriously, what gives? How is it possible that a highly intelligent homo sapien with higher math skills far superior to my own can be so utterly lacking in spacial awareness? If I ask him what he was thinking when he used the entire top shelf for the three-piece food processor, his reply will be some sort of indignant grunt about efficiency and "not wanting to hand-wash." Never mind the fact that this little stroke of laziness, er um genius, will require an entire week's worth of coffee cups to sit idle in the sink.

So I wonder, if efficiency is the goal, what's next? Will I find the cactus wedged in between the dinner plates, so it can get "watered" during the rinse cycle? Picturing this makes me chuckle out loud, which gets my husband's attention.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"Oh, I was just thinking about your bizarre dishwasher loading skills, and it made me realize that I wouldn't put it past you to stuff a houseplant in there with the dirty dishes."

"Why would I do that?" he asks with mock affront.

"Well, you know, so you can check 'watering the plants' off your list when you run a load of dishes."

"Hey! That's actually a really good idea! I wonder if it would work?"

Damn.

Note to self: Move all plants out of the kitchen. If they aren't in his line of sight, they should be safe. Better yet, buy one of those baby slings so I can get back to dish duty, stat!

Follow-up

2010-02-28T11:31:00.003-05:00

Well, I am afraid I was too harsh on the local baby furniture purveyor that I blasted in my last posting. Their third-party delivery firm was prompt and courteous, and the order was filled without mistakes or complaints.

I was also too quick to judge about their payment policy. I wrongfully assumed that they were already protected by my having paid a deposit on the furniture. When I dug a little deeper, I learned that this particular store follows proper credit card consumer protection protocols by not keeping any record of cardholder data from previous transactions.

Having written about this very topic for one of my clients in the high-tech security sector, I should have known, or at least suspected, that this was the case. No merchant worth their salt would keep that kind of data laying around, because of the liability. Furthermore, the payment card providers (VISA, MasterCard, AmEx, etc) demand that merchants strictly adhere to this policy.

That said, I want to highly recommend Lullaby Baby (http://www.lullaby-baby.com/) in Columbia, MD. They have terrific merchandise, knowledgeable (and patient) staff, and are the antidote to tired superstores like Babies-R-Us. I'm also really enjoying my experience shopping online at The Natural Baby (http://www.thenaturalbaby.com). The owner is extremely helpful (and also patient, especially with aging parents), and knows the answer to just about everything you could think to ask about her product lines.

Retail Needs Therapy

2010-02-18T13:06:00.015-05:00

I make an effort to support small businesses, rather than large, national corporations, and I'm willing to pay a little more for their products because, generally, independent companies offer higher quality and greater selection. In most cases they also offer better customer service, which is why I will continue to shop at Indoor Furniture in Columbia, MD. They get it. They also handle their own deliveries, so product does not get lost or damaged, and customers only deal with one merchant.

Unfortunately, what inspired me to bang out this rant was an experience with a local, independent baby furnishings store, which shall remain unnamed because I want to give them a chance to fix the situation. Back in December, we ordered a crib and dresser set, along with a painting and a nightlight for the baby's room. To-date we've only received the painting. I know that it takes time for things to come into stock, especially with the snow, so I have not been in a big hurry. However, when I got the message that the furniture had arrived, I promptly called back, expecting to schedule a date/time for delivery.

Instead, I was told that the store itself does not handle the actual delivery. This is done through a third party, and I would now need to wait for their call before I could actually schedule a time to receive my order. Then the clerk asked me when I would be available. I wasn't annoyed yet, so I gave her a range of days and times. The clerk proceeded to inform me that she could not guarantee that her delivery firm would honor any of my preferred delivery times, however, she was prepared to accept my final payment for the entire order. Eh?

When I stated that I expected to actually receive the goods before paying (they already had a deposit and my card number, so it's not like I wasn't committed), the clerk explained that, unfortunately, the furniture could not be delivered until the store received my payment in full. Oh, and by the way, she was very sorry, but the nightlight was still en route, because her supplier forgot to ship it.

I find this frustrating on several levels. First of all, in a two-part transaction I do not want to pay for something until I receive it. What if it's damaged, incorrect, or incomplete? If I've already paid-in-full, what is my recourse? Secondly, when you call me to schedule a delivery time, be prepared to actually schedule the delivery, especially if you want to get paid. Do not tell me that I have to coordinate the actual transaction with a third-party, and (yes, it gets worse) include a warning that your delivery firm might drop the ball and not call, so if I don't hear from them in the next two days I should call you back. Seriously? WTF?!

I realize that the world has bigger problems than these, but given the state of our economy, one would hope that customer service might take a higher priority. Sadly, that has not been the case for me when purchasing large items from area vendors.

The following is a list of purchases gone wrong in the past three years:

Bought a new bed from Mattress Discounters. Mattress arrived without the box spring. Good thing I took the entire day off work, because after arguing with the delivery personnel, and making multiple calls to the retailer, I had to wait six more hours for them to show up with both parts of the bed. Why this was so difficult, I cannot say. It seemed like a no-brainer to me, especially given that I had a receipt for a complete mattress set!
Pool table from the now-defunct Champion Billiards arrived with the wrong felt and wood finish. After much grumbling on behalf of the delivery folks, and more time off work for me, we received the correct table.
Booked the Clipper City Tall Ship for our wedding. They required a 50% deposit. We paid with a check. They went out of business, and we lost the entire deposit (over $3K).
Purchased a wedding dress from Columbia Bridal and Tuxedo. Dress shop called to schedule the final fitting three weeks before the wedding. I took a half day off work, only to be told that it was a "mix up" and my dress wasn't even in the store. Did I get a discount, or a break on the alternation charges? Heck no!
Furniture retailer, Scan, went out of business before filling our order. Fortunately, the manufacturer received partial payment prior to the bankruptcy, so they agreed to fill our order. Item arrived twelve weeks later, on top of the eight weeks we'd already waited.
Furniture manufacturer went out of business before filling our order. Fortunately, the retailer (Indoor Furniture) was happy to refund our money, and it worked out to be a no-harm, no-foul situation. I include this example, simply to illustrate how frequently, even under the best of circumstances, various elements of the supply chain fail to make good on their promises.

Cranky...and Scared

2009-12-09T14:19:00.033-05:00

Now that the cat is out of the bag, meaning we've notified our families, I can speak freely about my current condition: Pregnant. That's right, you heard correctly. I am growing my very own human in my uterus. The baby started out as a mere blastocyst, but has graduated to fetal status, meaning that it now tumbles freely in the amniotic fluid, making faces, flexing its limbs and mainlining nutrients straight from my bloodstream.

So far this process hasn't been too difficult. A little queasiness and fatigue in the first trimester, some headaches that continue to bother me, especially in the evenings, and most recently, a stretching and pulling sensation in my pelvis. None of this surprises me. It was all explained in the myriad books and articles I read as soon as I realized my monthly cycle was suspended for the foreseeable future.

As far as I'm concerned, the pregnancy is the easy part. My body pretty much knows exactly what to do. Sure it takes a little longer for me to show, this being a first pregnancy and all, but I have faith that all those hormones (the ones standing around in hard-hats, puzzling over blue prints) will be able to figure out how to get my inflexible pelvic bones and my grumpy intestines and my uptight abdominal muscles to make way for the temporary new addition.

This baby was planned, in the sense that Cranky and I knew what we were doing when we stopped using "protection." That said, we have the usual concerns. Mainly about how parenthood will forever change our lives. Diapers, sleep-deprivation, crying, spit-up and breast-feeding, all packaged with what other parents have described to me as a total loss of independence and a constant sense of worry and, in some cases, even guilt. These things scare the living [expletive] out of me.

Certainly there will be tender moments, first words, steps and smiles, and brief respites of peace while the baby sleeps, and I've heard the experience can be incredibly rewarding, but for someone who gags at the sight and smell of human excrement the thought of being a mom is, well, daunting at best. Sometimes I wonder what exactly I was thinking.

There are generally two schools of thought on the cost-benefit analysis of human reproduction. The first one, (to which I admittedly have belonged for many years) is the hard-nosed, nobody-forces-you-to-become-a-parent, lack of sympathy route. Having kids is over-rated, given the state of the world today. Far better to work on developing oneself, live a fulfilling life, and possibly even give back in some manner. Besides, who needs the "Mommy Wars" when society still balks at extending full equality and civil rights to women, gays and minorities?

The second school of thought is the having-kids-is-the-most-important-thing-you-can-do approach. I've always had problems with this, because I personally felt like my child-free life was quite important (thank you very much), and certainly what could be more important than pursuing one's own happiness? Not to mention, my deep-seated belief that having kids is actually one of the more selfish things a person can do. Sure, nurturing a new life is a tremendous amount of work and sacrifice, and if you do your job well, you'll produce a polite, productive member of society. One who may even go on to greatness. But at the end of the day, the real drive behind human reproduction is to perpetuate the parents' DNA, and thus secure their success as biological organisms. Important to the individuals? Yes. But in terms of impact on society? Certainly no match for a spot on the Supreme Court, or finding a cure for cancer.

Compounding my ambivalence is my belief that the reality in which we live places far more value on career ambitions, personal achievement and the accumulation of wealth than on motherhood, primary education and homemaking. Basically, I've always been suspicious of motherhood. It seemed like a trap for women–a way of committing us to the janitorial, support role, rather than the leadership, decision-making role to which I'd always aspired.

Now, faced with the inevitable, I find that I have good days and bad days. Good days where I'm filled with an inexplicable inner peace. A sense that my life is unfolding perfectly, and that my little passenger is going to expand my world, rather than limit it. That Cranky and I will experience more love than we could possibly imagine, and that we're embarking upon an adventure which will give our lives new meaning and perspective. Then there are the bad days. Days where I feel helpless and filled with resentment, and every bit of well-meaning advice chafes like a painful reminder of the trap into which I've fallen.

What pulls me out of this funk is the realization that motherhood doesn't have to be a trap. All this time I've lived by my own rules. Adopted conventional norms when they fit, broke from tradition when it became oppressive. Why should this new role be any different? I chose a direction, arguably one that is traditional for women, but at the end of the day it's just a general heading and no two people ever reach the exact same destination in life. If I can trust my body to deliver a healthy baby, then why not trust myself to forge a path through motherhood uniquely suited to me?

Cash for Clunkers = Junk

2009-07-31T11:37:00.001-04:00

I'm rather amused by the "Cash for Clunkers," or Car Allowance Rebate
System (CARS) program. It's already out of money, and representatives
from Michigan (on both sides of the aisle) are lobbying hard for more
funding. In case you are not familiar with this gem of an idea, CARS
provides consumers with vouchers worth thousands of dollars towards
the purchase of a new, more fuel efficient, car. It sounds good in
theory, right? Get the gas-guzzlers off the road, stimulate new car
sales, give the downtrodden American people a new toy, etc. But, like
most "incentive" programs, scratch beneath the surface and you will
find that this program is only designed to benefit one group: new car
manufacturers and dealers.

Basically, the program encourages consumers who have paid off their
car loans (because one must hold the title "free and clear" to
qualify) to hand over their perfectly functional vehicles (CARS
requires trade-ins to be in "drivable condition") for less than their
market value (trade-in value on the old car is limited to its scrap
value, since all "clunkers" must be destroyed). In return the consumer
gets to assume a new debt on a depreciating asset. Just what we should
all be doing in a down economy.

Then there's the "environmental" argument. CARS will help clean up the
air, and force American consumers to adopt greener transportation
technology. Well, there's a little phrase, popular in
conservation-minded circles, that goes "reduce, reuse, recycle." Note
that nowhere in this phrase are the words "buy new." Truth is, it's
far better for the environment to extend the life of manufactured
products. By scrapping all the trade-in vehicles, CARS is robbing the
marketplace of valuable used vehicles and components. This wastes
resources (just think of how much energy and raw materials are used in
the production of new cars), and robs consumers of affordable product.

And finally, what about all those small businesses who buy, sell and
repair used vehicles? There's an entire industry, called the
automotive aftermarket, which relies on used cars and car parts for
its bread and butter. The aftermarket industry employs thousands of
people, and is supported by a massive supply chain that includes
manufacturing and re-manufacturing, shipping and distribution and
retail infrastructure. Should all these businesses, and their
employees, wither on the vine so that the Big Three and their dealer
networks can blunder onward?

Old Chub: The Not-So-Silver Bullet

2009-07-15T09:23:00.031-04:00

Some of you are already familiar with my writings on Old Chub Scottish Style Ale. If not, you may wish to read an earlier piece published by Gone magazine under an erroneous byline (due to the editor's inability to figure out WordPress).

Regardless, the legend of the Chub lives on aboard Kaleviopoeg, a 40' sloop (that's a single-masted sailboat for those who don't know) notorious for its role in off-shore adventures (see SpinSheet pg. 52). Before embarking upon this year's "Sailing Adventure" the skipper suggested an audition for potential new crew by way of a leisurely Sunday afternoon sailing excursion. Seeing as I have a proven track record aboard said vessel, my presence was requested to assist with the "evaluation" process.

As I packed my gear that morning I went down the list of required items: sailing gloves? check; sunglasses and hat? check; sunblock? check; water? check; beer? hmm. Captain Danger, or Cap'n D as we call him, usually lays in a 40-day supply of his favorite thirst-quencher, Coors Light. However it's always wise to bring a little something extra, so that one does not impede upon the captain's provisions...might need to stop at the liquor mart on the way.

Londontown Wine & Spirits, conveniently located a stone's throw from Edgewater, MD's famous Londontown Marina, is a well-appointed package store. They carry all the usual brands of swill, along with a fair selection of micro-brews. Nonetheless, I was quite surprised to find four six-packs of Old Chub lurking under a thick layer of dust on the middle shelf of the "American Exotics" section.

You want to test the mettle of your crew? Arrrgh! The Chub will separate the men from the boys, I chuckled to myself as I pulled out a sixer.

At the register, the cashier inspected my purchase with genuine wonder.

"I didn't know we sold this," she mused. "In fact, I don't think we've ever sold any of it. Is it any good?"

"Umm. Well...I wouldn't go that far," I said, coyly. "I'm not sure how your distributor got you to stock this stuff, but I wouldn't renew your order, if you know what I mean."

She gave me a grim, but appreciative, nod, and completed the transaction.

Ten minutes later we boarded Kalevipoeg, Chub wrapped in a brown paper bag and stashed deep in my backpack. As the skipper introduced the crew I gave them all the once-over to determine who should go first.

We cast off, and were soon under sail. Once things settled down, the captain handed up some cold Coors Light with sandwiches, and I seized the opportunity to slip down the hatch to the galley. Furtively, I extracted the six-pack from my bag and lifted the lid on the ice chest.

"What have you got there lassie?" queried Cap'n D.

"Well, it wouldn't be an audition without some Old Chub," I replied.

"Oh! The Chub! That's a fine idea," he agreed. "Why don't you put some of that right on top, where people can get to it."

We shared a mischievous grin, and arranged the cans in an appealing display. Sure enough, just as we finished, one of the new guys (we'll call him "Phil") climbed down the companionway.

"What have we got here?" Phil asked, peering at the cans, glistening atop a cascade of ice cubes.

"Oh, just some Old Chub that Blanche, here, was kind enough to bring," offered Cap'n D. "If you're nice to her, she just might share!"

Phil turned to me with a big grin. "Really? I can have one?"

"Why sure! I brought them for everyone, but you might want to let them cool down a bit," I said.

He nodded in agreement, and we all went top-side to wait until the magic moment when the Chub reached the perfect temperature.

Forty minutes later Phil had an icy can of Chub in his mitts. He was giddy with excitement and flush with gratitude as he took his first sip. We all stared at him in expectation.

"Umm. Not bad," Phil said cautiously.

"You know you have to finish that," intoned Cap'n D.

"Oh, I fully intend to," Phil replied, as he took another brave swig from the can.

Phil grimaced and set his beverage on the counter. "I'm going to have to drink that one a little more slowly, I think. It's awfully strong."

We nodded gravely, and gave him a look that let him know he wasn't off the hook.

"I'll just take it up with me and keep working on it," Phil assured us.

"Well, that's the test of a true sailor," Cap'n D stated resolutely. "The crew member who finishes his Old Chub. Yes, indeed."

About an hour later the wind picked up, and we were heeled over with the sails close-hauled. Our speed over ground was close to seven knots, and Phil was at the helm. He seemed to have forgotten all about his Old Chub. Unfortunately for him there are only four spaces in the cup holder on the binnacle, meaning one cannot leave a drink idle for long without someone asking about its status.

"Uh, Phil? I know you're driving and all, but what's going on with the Old Chub?" I implored. "Surely you don't mean to tell us that you don't like it?"

"Well, if someone will take the wheel I can try to finish it off," he said, still game for the experiment. "It is very good."

No one believed him, but Cap'n D's son, Evan, was more than happy to drive so that Phil could finish his beer. Phil took another slug of the Chub, and winced as he swallowed.

"Ok. You win. It's not very good. In fact, it's bloody awful," Phil conceded. "Can I pour it out now?"

I sighed. "I suppose you can, but it might well cost you your berth to Block Island."

Phil looked around, shrugged and tipped the can toward the drain. "I give up, nothing is worth drinking this swill. You people are crazy!"

"Arrrrgh, if you be suffering from the grog, you can't possibly stand the watches," growled Cap'n D.

"That's right! 12 hours on, 4 hours off. It's a grueling pace we keep aboard Kalevipoeg," I agreed.

Cap'n D and I shared a look of mirth, as Phil shook his head in a combination of confusion and disgust, and climbed back up the companionway. Needless to say, we never heard from Phil again.

Dr. No and the Sunken Sunglasses (or Where There's a Will, There's a Way)

2009-07-09T14:37:00.012-04:00

The other day, while loitering at Edgewater, MD's famous Londontown Marina, I witnessed an amusing spectacle. One of the slip holders, a skipper we refer to as "Dr. No," was anxiously pacing his deck, and peering down at the murky waters of Glebe Bay.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I lost my $500 sunglasses over the side a minute ago. They just flew off my head and went in over there somewhere," he explained, looking hapless and pointing to a spot in the murk just to the left of where he was standing.

While Dr. No despaired over his glasses, Rosie, his fair (and incredibly tolerant) love interest, voiced her desire to "wrap up" for the day. The couple had just returned from a pleasant day sail on the lovely Chesapeake Bay, and Rosie, not being much for the great outdoors, was ready to head back to civilization and spend a quiet evening with the good doctor.

Little did she realize Dr. No does not give up that easily.

"Rosie! Hand me the net with the telescoping handle!" he ordered. "I bet if I drag it along the bottom I'll be able to scoop them up in no time."

"Do you think they sank right away, or could the current have carried them off?" I asked.

"Hmm. Good point. I hope not. Let's give it a try," he said, and dipped the net in as far as it would go. Sadly the handle was not long enough, and the net didn't reach the bottom.

"Damn it! I'm going to have to jump in," Dr. No proclaimed.

"Mike, this is foolish. I'll just buy you a new pair!" said Rosie, growing more impatient by the minute.

Dr. No, ignoring his gentle companion, began to strip down to his shorts. I turned away for a moment, and heard a splash as he went over the side.

"Oh! It's cold! And I can't reach the bottom," he sputtered, arms flailing as he attempted to tread water.

"Well, yeah. Your boat draws almost seven feet, so I assume the depth is somewhere around eight or nine..." I offered by way of explanation. Rosie and I exchanged a look.

"Good point. Maybe if I use the net now, I'll be able to get them...Rosie! Hand me the net again!"

Rosie, looking downright perturbed at this point, thrust the net over the side.

Dr. No began methodically dragging it back and forth across the bottom. Scrosh, scrosh, scrosh went the net, coming up empty each time.

Just then I noticed a sinister looking disturbance on the water, indicating a school of fish being pursued (and eaten) by a much larger fish, or fishes. The school was heading right for the fearless doctor, but he was so intent on his netting that he had no idea.

"Uh, Mike? There seems to be some activity coming your way," I warned.

Just as he turned to look, a large fin cut through the surface, sending smaller fish skittering in all directions with much flipping and splashing.

"What?! Oh shit!" he cried.

"Really Mike, this is insanity! Can we just go home now?" Rosie pleaded.

"No, no, not yet! I'm going to try to dive for them," Dr. No insisted. "Keep an eye on that activity for me, will you?" he said to me.

He flung the net back on board, raised his arms over his head and took a big gulp of air before submerging. A few seconds later he bobbed back up empty handed. The school of fish were moving away, but a quick look at Rosie's face was proof positive that Dr. No was far from safe.

Undaunted by Rosie's scowl, Dr. No continued to dive for the glasses, coming up at least three more times with nothing.

"Mike! Can we please give up this nonsense, and go home!" Rosie demanded.

"Hold on...just one more try, and then I promise we can leave," he said with conviction.

Dr. No took a big swallow of air, pumped his arms and legs to propell himself out of the water, and dove with all his might for the muddy bottom. He stayed down for awhile. Rosie and I exchanged looks of concern. Suddenly our hero shot to the surface with a triumphant grin...but no sunglasses.

"I touched them! I touched them! I know where they are!" he shouted with glee. "Come on, Rosie. This time I know I'll get them."

Rosie, recognizing the futility of arguing when he was this close to victory, resigned herself for the inevitable.

Once again Dr. No took a lungful of air and dove for the bottom. He emerged moments later with a big grin, clutching his sunglasses.

How to Weed out the Bad Ones

2009-06-02T14:58:00.012-04:00

The Five Points of Success
A few years ago I examined my dating choices, and came to some conclusions about where I was going wrong. Amazingly, after applying these simple criteria, I found (and married) someone very special. This checklist can also help evaluate potential new friends and business partners.

Valid drivers' license. This state-issued, photo ID is the cornerstone of our society. Without it there is no bank account, no voting, no utility accounts, no entry to bars, and worst of all, no way for them to drive you home when you've had one too many (see below). Furthermore, the seizure or revocation of a valid drivers' license is often the result of an arrest, or worse, a criminal conviction.
Registered vehicle. Unless they are European, or living in Manhattan, there is no excuse for not having a functioning, street-legal vehicle.
Place to live that is not shared with a parent, sibling or ex. This one is very important, because, much like the vehicle, you do not want to get stuck carrying out the relationship exclusively on your own turf.
Full-time, or otherwise gainful, employment. If they can't hold down a job, how can they possibly commit to a partner? Then there's the whole money thing...
College degree. This one is optional, as there are many hardworking and intelligent folks who didn't make it through the ivory towers of academia. However, I do find it a good indicator of the person's ability to obtain the other four points.

The Five Points of Failure
Unfortunately, the Five Points of Success are not always foolproof. Many times you'll meet someone who outwardly appears normal, only to learn rather quickly that they are, in fact, broken on the inside. This list is intended to help expand your evaluation of an individual's fitness to be considered for a long-term romantic partnership. Note also that the inability to take responsibility for bad decisions, and a sense of entitlement when requesting help from others (sometimes referred to as "immaturity") are other indicators that one or more of the Five Points of Failure is likely present in the individual.

Substance Abuse. My criteria differs slightly from the standard definition given by orgs like AA, which I find to be far too restrictive and all-encompassing to the tune of "you drink (a lot) = you need help". I look for lying about drinking/drug use, dramatic personality changes during drinking/drug use, unwillingness to engage in activities without drinking/drug use, inability to stop when the situation calls for it...like going to work.
Emotional Problems. People who need multiple prescriptions to feel happy, or classes to keep their fists to themselves. If they are still in counseling, I'd assume they are not ready for a relationship.
Dishonesty. Enough said.
Unresolved Romantic Entanglements. If they are still in contact with the ex, and the situation is such that the ex cannot know about, or ever meet, you, run (don't walk) before you need to take out a restraining order.
Money Problems. Characterized by spending and living beyond their means, requests to borrow money which turn into guilt trips and/or resentment if they are denied, and massive piles of debt resulting from poor decisions. These types often express the desire to rush into co-habitation. Look for an eviction notice or a bounced rent check if you hear an ultimatum like "If you don't let me move in, then it's over, because you don't *really* love me."

Two More From the "Larder"

2009-03-10T13:05:00.004-04:00

Orange Julius Martinis
Vanilla vodka
Fresh-squeezed juice of one orange (Valencias work best)
Splash of milk
Splash of Cointreau

Pour all of this over ice in a shaker. Shake, and pour into a martini glass. Sprinkle some nutmeg across the top, and serve!
PS - you can add spiced rum, too, if you think it needs a kick in the pants.

Tex-Mex Tofu Scramble
This little concoction makes for an excellent taco or burrito filling. I usually serve it in a flour tortilla with avocado slices, a dash of hot sauce and shredded cheese. If you like sour cream in your Tex-Mex, "Tofutti" brand vegan sour cream is tasty, and lasts a lot longer than its dairy-based cousin.

Tofu, coarsely chopped into bite-sized pieces (these will crumble as it cooks, so shape and uniformity don't really matter)
1-2 Bell peppers - red, yellow, orange, green - whatever. Julienne, or dice, depending upon how you like them
1-2 Hot peppers - jalapeno, poblano, cubanelle - personally, I like poblanos, because they impart a smoky taste without too much heat
1 small onion diced, or sliced, depending on whether you want the pieces to be fajita-style, or just blend into the mixture
1 ear of fresh corn - use a chef's knife to slice off the kernels
Garlic powder to taste
Fajita seasoning to taste (contains salt, so you don't need to add additional salt)
Mexican chili powder to taste

Heat some canola oil in a non-stick frying pan over medium-high heat. Add your onion, tofu and hot peppers. Season with spices, and saute until things start to brown. Toss the corn and the bell peppers into the pan, and continue to saute. If it's too juicy, turn up the heat a notch and let it simmer without stirring for 3 minutes. Check the bottom of the mixture to see if it's browning nicely. Once you get a little crispness on the bottom you can give it a stir to crisp up the other side.

When the tofu starts to brown it's time to transfer everything to a bowl. If you're making burritos or soft tacos, use the frying pan to heat your tortillas with some cheese sprinkled in the center. When the cheese starts to melt, but before the tortillas dry out (you don't want them to crack when you fold them), transfer to a plate and add your tofu mixture, avocado slices, sour cream and hot sauce. Fold up your burrito, or soft taco, and enjoy! This will work with crispy taco shells, too. Just follow the directions on the box to heat them, and add your fillings when they're ready to eat.

W Stands for "What a Terrible Film!"

2009-03-02T12:09:00.029-05:00

Here in the mid-Atlantic we are buried in snow. The winter winds howl through the trees, scattering frost and banging the wind chimes against the house. For us, this spells Movie Time! Alas, we were unprepared, and had to choose something from the paltry HD offerings on Verizon FIOS' on-demand service. Fortunately, there was one film in the line up which caught our eye - Oliver Stone's "W."

We popped some corn, and snuggled under a blanket with high hopes for being entertained. "W" promised an embarrassing expose of our 43rd president. We were expecting to see all sorts of outrageous footage depicting his drunken debaucheries, financial failings and total lack of regard for the responsibilities facing him as commander-in-chief. We were also hoping for some juicy insights into his daughters' behavior...maybe some table-dancing and tequila shots, followed by an alcohol-fueled tantrum aimed at their loyal secret service detail.

Unfortunately, what followed was some of the worst movie making I've ever seen.

"W" glossed over all the good stuff, and left us confused as to what really happened in the White House for the past eight years. There was nothing in the film that I couldn't piece together on my own from previously-aired news conferences and media footage. The real reasons behind invading Iraq are merely hinted at, and the wordy subterfuge of W's closest advisers is overplayed.

His early life was what really interested us, and yet Stone's treatment of Bush, Jr.'s formative years is extraordinarily superficial. One minute George W. is offering a half-assed wedding proposal to a blonde in a Texas roadhouse, the next he's shown standing in the middle of a baseball field glowing with pride over his acquisition of the Texas Rangers. There's no mention of the girl again, until his father, George H. W., makes a passing swipe at his son about how he "knocked-up" some young woman, and Sr. had to clean up the mess to keep W on track.

On track for what, we still don't know. Every time we see W talking to his father, the conversation is focused on Jr.'s lack of ambition. Yet, George, Sr. is downright angry when his son decides to run for governor in Texas. Apparently the objections center around the logistical conflicts posed for the elder Bushs, who already have their hands full supporting Jeb's campaign in Florida.

Next thing you know, W is dating Laura Welch, and the only reference to his alcoholism is the morning he wakes up with a killer hangover and bemoans the difficulty of running three miles after a night of drinking. Cut to a scene of him at a Bible study. There's no indication of which faith it is, or of how the faith ties into his sobriety. The only clue that he's quit drinking comes by way of his pastor, who praises W for going six months without a drink.

Jump ahead, and George, Jr. is president of the U.S. of A. There's no mention of the election debacle, hanging chads, Katherine Harris or the Sore-Loserman campaign. The film even skips over 9/11. Suddenly we find ourselves in the War Room with Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, Colin Powell, George Tenet, Tommy Franks and Condi Rice.

Powell makes the mistake of speaking out in favor of diplomacy at the initial "what to do about Iraq" meeting. You quickly see that the others are hell-bent on going to war, and Bush doesn't want anyone standing in their way. Why is Bush so keen on going to war with Iraq? Other than providing a vehicle for showing up his dear, old Dad, it's still not clear.

Tenet refuses to give his approval for use of the WMD "intelligence," but he quickly tires of the relentless schedule of speech writing revisions, and hands off responsibility to a deputy. This gives Bush's handlers the lack of scrutiny they need to run with whatever will win public support for an invasion.

Already knew all this? Yeah, us, too. This film doesn't give you anything new.

Bush's inner circle consists of Rove, Rummy, Cheney and Condi, and they constantly disguise their competence in order to avoid angering the president. Bush tells Cheney to "keep it quiet in meetings," but Cheney still manages to run the show. Rove is the image guy. The one who coaches W through his talking points and helps him stay on message, while perpetuating the illusion that W is in charge.

Rummy just seems to have a penchant for taking military action. He is portrayed as a mere puppet, and his dialog consists of convoluted declarations that leave room for retraction if they happen to land on the wrong side of the favored agenda. This isn't the Rummy I saw on the news during the early days of "Operation Freedom." There are a lot of bad things you can say about the guy, but approval-seeking and back-pedaling have never been his trademarks.

Questions that linger: why does Rummy push past the evidence showing flaws in the WMD intelligence? Why is he so gung-ho for mobilizing the troops? At least with Cheney, his oil-lust is on the table from the beginning.

Condi is another one whose identity remains obscured. She dials the phone when Bush needs to talk to foreign dignitaries, and listens quietly on the other line, never offering an opinion of her own. She also dutifully points out Iraq on the map, so the president doesn't look foolish in meetings. But at the end of the film, we still don't know who she is, or why Bush chose her for his inner circle.

The only consistent theme in the entire movie is the portrayal of Bush as intellectually lazy and incredibly insecure about his relationship with his father. Whether it's the oil rig job that he quits abruptly, or the relentless delegation of everything substantial on his plate, W is clearly not cut out for the mental challenges facing a leader. The daddy issues are just another manifestation of his inability to take responsibility for anything. Even George, Sr. can't figure out why his son is so defensive, and out-of-touch with reality.

"What about Katrina?" you might be wondering. Well, there's no mention of the greatest natural disaster our country faced in recent history in this film. Just like the election and 9/11, Katrina is not on the radar. Neither are the Bush daughters. It's as though they don't even exist.

"W" leaves us with many questions, and few answers. The film makes for a lousy, incomplete excuse for a biopic. It relies far too heavily on W's relationship with his father to explain away his shortcomings, instead of seeing the troubled relationship as the symptom of something larger. What is clear is the fact that Oliver Stone did not have access to the Bush family, or anyone in their close confidence, because he does not know "W" any better than we do.

Battle of the Bulge: A Dispatch From the Front Lines

2009-02-27T10:38:00.014-05:00

I enjoy eating comfort foods, and frequently fall victim to inertia when it comes to fitness. Like most people, I am prone to rationalizing these behaviors.

"I just can't get motivated to work-out when it's this cold and gray outside; this is the perfect weather for curling up with a good book and cup of hot chocolate, or red wine, or..."

"So what if my last five meals were high-fat, meat, potato and dairy combos? It's winter, and you need a little extra meat on your bones to stay warm."

Rather than face the music when it comes time to put on street clothes, I disguise my figure in "fashionable" designer sweats, with elastic waistbands and drawstrings. A baggy top that hides my bulging gut completes the look. The sad thing is, I do make it to the gym at least three times per week, and I am mindful about what I eat...most of the time. I also prepare the majority of our meals at home, watch my fiber, fat and nutrient intake, and make an effort to get five servings of fresh fruits and vegetables each day. So what gives?

I can only surmise that I do all the right things on top of doing all the wrong ones. So for every 28 grams of fiber I ingest, there are 30 grams of fat. For every serving of fresh produce, there is a double-portion of carbohydrates. The thing is, when I look in the mirror I don't think I look all that bad! My legs are toned and muscular, my back is lean and strong, my arms are...well, my arms have some flab, but they're not terrible.

If it weren't for those pesky jeans that refuse to button, I would have no clue that I am being defeated by my gut. My gut = problem area. Despite doing crunches, sit-ups, core-intensive yoga and a myriad of other things (like a high-fiber diet) that should help, the bulge refuses to budge. So I've decided to declare a truce. I am going to stop fighting my body, and simply embrace the little things that make life worth living. Below are some "little" things that make a big difference in my personal happiness. (note that not all of them will lead down the path to obesity)

Leftover Coffee
Known in fancier circles as an "espresso martini" or a "coffee martini," this little cocktail is a great way to use that last cup of cold coffee lingering in the coffeemaker (a "healthy" alternative is to dump it into a houseplant, since coffee contains plant-friendly nutrients). The beauty of this cocktail is its versatility. You can use just about any type of booze - vodka (vanilla or espresso flavored, or plain...whatever you have on hand will do) OR rum (spiced rum is fun) OR bourbon (if you want to put hair on your chest). If you're feeling creative add your favorite liqueur (amaretto, Kahlua, chocolate or butterscotch schnapps). If you don't have any liqueur you can use flavored syrup (Torani, for example) or chocolate syrup or hot cocoa mix. I like milk in my coffee, so I definitely recommend adding milk to this concocation. As for sweetness, I only add sugar if I don't have liqueur, or flavoring syrup. Basically, you put ice in the shaker, and add your coffee and other ingredients to taste. Shake and pour into martini glasses. Add a dash of nutmeg or cinnamon for added effect.

Hot Coco-Cocoa
The other day I was enjoying a cup of hot cocoa, while chatting on the phone with a friend. She suggested I add coconut rum to my beverage. I did, and I highly recommend this approach to an old favorite.

A "Reece's" Moment
Remember the commercials for Reece's peanut butter cups back in the '70s? The collision between the hapless guy with the chocolate bar and the irritable guy with the jar of peanut butter? Yeah, well I took a bar of milk chocolate and spread some peanut butter on it, and voila! It tasted just like Reece's. No need to pay extra for a processed candy bar, when you've got the raw materials on hand right here at home!

Lemondrop Martinis
Easier to make than you might realize. Squeeze the juice of half a lemon into a martini shaker filled with ice. Add vodka and two teaspoons of sugar. Shake and pour. Using real lemon juice is a great way to get your vitamin C in the dark days of winter.

Bag o' Food
Trader Joe's and My Organic Market (MOM) carry some excellent skillet meals in their frozen food sections. I had an organic butternut squash and sage pasta Alfredo the other day that was to die-for. Only took ten minutes to prepare, and easily fed three adults when paired with a meat. I wish I could remember the brand, but I got it at MOM's...Generally, I avoid frozen meals that include meat. Side dishes are fine, and they've made great strides in preparing frozen french fries...those Organic Valley shoestrings are downright tasty, and Alexia foods makes good sweet potato fries. Other winners are any of the Asian-inspired frozen rice meals at Trader Joe's (just add meat or tofu), and the cheese and green chili tamales. An exception to the meatless rule is the Orange Glazed Chicken from Trader Joe's. It's a lot like General Tsao's chicken, and actually cooks up crispy in a wok, and you can always toss in whatever vegetables you have on hand, like broccoli, carrots or bell peppers. Best thing about frozen food, you can order carry-out or decide to eat in a restaurant at the last-minute, and your food waits patiently in freezer, instead of filling you with guilt as it rots before your eyes.

Motivated by Fish!
We are fortunate to have a very good seafood market right around the corner in Jessup, MD. Frank's Seafood has an amazing selection, is reasonably-priced and always fresh. The other day I got some grouper, which I then broiled and served with the aforementioned butternut squash and sage pasta Alfredo. Broiling is an excellent winter cooking method. It warms the house, and delivers grill-like results. The high, yet indirect, heat locks in the juices and adds a crispy finish to the exterior. I like to cook wild salmon, rockfish and grouper. Red snapper has too many bones. Season with the fresh-squeezed juice of half a lemon (use the other half for your lemondrop martini), a couple of pats of butter (browns and crisps the top of the fish nicely) and sprinkle with salt and pepper or Old Bay.

Vegetarian Cashew Chicken
This recipe will also work with thinly-sliced, boneless, skinless chicken breast, shrimp or scallops. Sometimes, however, I find it's just easier to cook with tofu. It has the consistency of scrambled eggs, or a soft, flavorless cheese that won't melt. It also keeps forever in the fridge (see note above about value of foods you can blow off for a restaurant meal without guilt), is relatively low-calorie and very low in fat content. Since this one is a real recipe, the ingredients are listed below:

5-6 hot, red, Thai chilies (available at Lotte market on 40) with stems cut off, no other chopping needed
2-3 cloves of garlic, chopped or minced
1/2-3/4 cup oyster-flavored sauce (available in Asian section at most grocery stores, but if you gotta go to Lotte for the chilies, pick it up there, as they have the most authentic brands)
1 cup cashews (prefer to use roasted, unsalted b/c the oyster sauce has lots of salt)
1 cup celery coarsely chopped crosswise; try to mimic the size of the cashews, so celery will cook at the same rate as the nuts
1 package of extra-firm tofu OR 1 lb. of chicken, shrimp or scallops
1 bunch green onions chopped any way you like
1/3 cup Canola oil (very important to use a vegetable oil that will not impart its own flavor on the dish)

The meal only takes about 10 minutes to cook once you have everything chopped, so I like to start the rice first, then prep my ingredients. When you're ready to stir-fry, heat oil in a large non-stick fry pan or wok. Add garlic and chili peppers, toss for 2-3 minutes before adding your tofu (or chicken, shrimp, etc). Keep tossing until browned, but keep an eye on the heat, as you don't want your garlic to burn. If things are taking too long, add a tablespoon of the oyster sauce to get the caramelizing effect going. When the tofu is starting to get a little color, add the cashews, celery and oyster sauce. Keep stirring over medium-high heat (can go down to medium, if things look like they might burn) until the ingredients are done, and you see the sugars in the oyster sauce starting to caramelize. Toss in the green onions, and stir to heat through; these guys get over-cooked easily, so you can even turn off the heat at this point. Serve over rice, and watch out for the red chilis.

Hard Times @ Home
Long before Pub Dog there was a Hard Times Cafe here in Columbia, MD. It was never very good (see our posting about the demise of the Columbia branch), so few tears were shed when it closed. However, the chili situation in our area is pretty dire. Fortunately Hard Times has a website (www.hardtimes.com), and they sell their seasoning kits, hot sauces and chili-infused malt vinegar online! I bought two of each, and set about re-creating the Hard Times experience at home. The results cannot be denied...delicious, hearty chili served over spaghetti with shredded cheese tastes just as good at home as it does in the restaurant.

Tips for Men

2008-09-05T16:56:00.021-04:00

"What do women want?" It's the oldest question around, and virtually impossible to answer because women are unique, complicated and mercurial. All paranoia aside, I do have a few recommendations to help men avoid conflict with the women in their lives. I've been told by Cranky that men like lists, because they are straightforward and difficult to screw-up. Therefore, I have compiled my suggestions into a simple list:

1) Laundry - Do not do a woman's laundry for her. Women's clothing is exorbitantly expensive, and is generally made from unpractical fabrics like silk, wool, rayon and the ubitquitous and easily-shrunk "cotton blend." Nothing will get you into hot water (no pun intended) faster than having your wife, girlfriend, sister, mother, mother-in-law, etc find her brassiere and favorite (think $$$) blouse tangled into a shrunken, soaking pile at the bottom of the spin cycle. The only thing worse would be for her to retrieve these items from the dryer, after a 75 minute tumble on nuclear high. Unless you are familiar with the meaning of terms like "hand-wash, dry flat" and "line dry, cool iron", or my favorite, "dry-clean only," stay far, far away from a woman's soiled garments.

If you really want to help, extract your laundry, including any communal sheets and towels, from the pile and proceed through the steps of wash, dry and put away. Be sure not to leave your clothing in the dryer, or in a pile on the bed, as this will be perceived as only completing half the task, and therefore, not helpful.

2) Gifts - Chances are you have a special occasion coming up soon. Whether it's a birthday, an anniversary, a holiday or that dreaded made-up holiday we call "Valentine's Day," you do not want to be caught flat-footed. Always ask if there's something she wants. With any luck she'll provide a list (see note at top about the usefulness of lists), and all you'll have to do is fill her order. If she cannot, or will not, provide a list don't panic. Here are a few tried-and-true gift choices that will not fail:

Flowers and a card (very safe bet for new relationships; add a homemade mix CD to kick things up a notch).
Jewelry (do not give jewelry if you are not serious about the relationship, and/or are not willing to spend money on a quality piece).
Dinner at a nice restaurant (not Olive Garden, Famous Dave's or the Outback - think something downtown with cloth napkins, where reservations are recommended).
Tickets to see a show, a band or a game (only do the game or band if she is a fan; if she hates football, she'll see right through those Redskins tickets).
Make dinner for her (don't touch this one unless you know how to cook, and are prepared to do the shopping and the clean-up).
Take her on a picnic (have all the gear and food ready before you involve her).
If it's a birthday, call her friends and arrange for a surprise happy hour at a bar she likes.
TIP: For any of these suggestions that require travel, you are expected to provide transportation to and from the event. For those who are still confused, that means she drinks, you drive.

Here is a list of gifts NOT to give:

Scented candles, or other useless trinkets.
Household appliances (nothing kills the romance like a new vacuum cleaner with a set of refill bags).
Books or videos about diet and exercise (she'll wonder what are you trying to say).

Finally, there is another element to gift-giving which men often overlook. Selecting, purchasing and sending gifts for friends and family on the man's side of the social calendar. These are your responsibility, as are any thank-you notes for gifts received from your friends and family. Do not expect your woman to take care of these, unless she offers to do so, in which case she is entitled to a gift of gratitude selected from the list above.

3) Groceries - Have you ever gone to the store, list in hand, only to come home and get reamed out for buying the wrong things? Technically, it's not your fault. There's a little thing called "product labeling," awareness of which is the cornerstone of the savvy grocery consumer. Food marketers spend millions of dollars on packaging, for the sole purpose of confusing, misleading and essentially tricking the customer into buying the wrong thing. Generic brands mimic the brand leaders in an attempt to steal their market. Low-fat, low-cal, sugar-free, fat-free, all are tricks to get the diet-conscious consumer to pick their product. Often the product is loaded with preservatives, sugar and/or salt in an attempt to compensate for the lack of flavor which results when fat, sugar and calories are removed from food. You may be thinking that the obvious solution to this dilemma is to simply call your spouse and ask for clarification. While not a bad idea in theory, it's best to leave this option for a last-resort. Calling her from the store runs the risk of making her feel like it would have been easier to do the shopping herself. Better to ask for brand names, and a detailed description, before you leave for the store. Let's role-play:

Her: Can you pick up milk on your way home?

You: Sure. What kind of milk?

Her: What do you mean? [Note the tone of annoyance that implies "You idiot, it's just milk!"]

You: Well, there's six different brands of milk, and at least four types of milk under each brand. Can you please be more specific? Last time you gave away an entire gallon, because I bought the wrong type. [Add your own tone of irritation that says "Aha! Didn't think of that did you? Now who's the idiot?]

Her: [chastened] Oh, good point. Anything 2%, prefer the Organic Valley, but if they don't have that brand, just go for whatever in 2%.

Start insisting on this level of detail for all list items, and eventually you'll even begin to recognize your household's preferred brands. Now you can shop with confidence!

4) Her Friends - A woman's friends are her most prized possessions. If you are lucky, these friends do not include her mom, or her sister, as that creates the double-whammy of an in-law and an interloper who is privy to the most intimate details of your life. Generally, there are a couple of rules to follow with regard to her friends.

Always be a gracious gentleman in their presence. Nothing scores her points like having a good man. Nothing scores you points like making her look good in front of her peers.
Never hit on the "hot" friend. Inevitably, there is one friend in her group who is better-looking than your girl. If this person happens to be her sister, be extra careful about following this rule. If you find yourself wishing you had hooked up with her "hot" friend/sister instead of your partner, it might be time for a break-up. Trust me, women are keenly aware of where they fall in comparison to other women on the looks hierarchy. She's spent her whole life in the "hot" friend/sister's shadow, don't make her feel inadequate in her relationship.
Never, ever, ever try to force a friendship between your woman and your buddy's wife, your mother, your sister or some other female figure from your side of the social calendar. Women select their friends carefully. Each potential comrade is carefully chosen, vetted and bonded based upon a complex set of criteria. If she decides to befriend a woman from your side of the social calendar, be flattered as it is the supreme compliment. But be wary, as this friendship could be a strategic alliance formed for the sole purpose of intelligence gathering that will result in one or both parties gaining greater control over you and your actions. If you suspect this is the case, skip down to number six, and start planning your exit.

5) "Guy's Night Out" - This one is a sacred cow among menfolk, and for good reason. It affords men an opportunity to socialize with other men, where the conversation can be unfiltered, competition (if a game is involved) fierce and unapologetic and nobody orders a salad or discusses calories and weight-loss. A good woman will understand your need for this time. However she may envy you, and become annoyed if you make these nights of glory too frequent of an occurrence. This is especially true if she has recently relocated on your behalf, meaning her friends and family are far away and she hasn't seen anyone socially in several weeks. Same holds true if she is a stay-at-home mom, who has been on duty for the past 16 hours, and was looking forward to taking a shower without interruption when you get home from work. Then there is the condition that may render her incapable of understanding your need for time exclusively in the company of other men. This condition is called "lone-she-wolf syndrome." You'll know she suffers from this if she has ever uttered any of the following statement: "All my friends are guys," "Women are so boring, I hate talking about shopping, babies and diets," or my personal favorite, "Whenever I go out with the girls I get dirty looks if I have more than two cocktails." She doesn't bond well with her gender, and will not understand your need to do so with yours. Well, actually she understands all too well why you want to go out with the guys, and is hurt that you won't let her join you. The only solution to this is cohabitation. Once she has you (and your buddies) underfoot all the time, she will savor a night at home alone. If this fails, hope that she finds a hobby that involves drinking, or a group of tomboys that play roller derby.

6) Breaking-up...is hard to do. Bottom line: be a man about it. Don't be a douche and hide from her. This will just cause her to escalate her attempts to communicate with you. Be honest. Tell her that it's not working out for you. As in "I'm not in love with you, and I don't see the point in continuing things." Do not go into a litany about how annoying her voice is, or how much you hate her friends. If you have already met someone else, it's best to leave this detail out of your explanation. She does not need to know about the cute girl at your work who threw herself at you during sales week in Tampa, nor does she need to hear how hot the sex was, or how great the new girl looks in her thong. The exception being that this someone else is her best friend, and you guys are going to take things public. If this is the case, I suggest a politely written note (minus details of the hook-up) left for her on your way out of town. That's right, the only decent thing to do in this situation is relocate.

Got another one you'd like me to explore? Send it via the comments link, and I'll see if I can shed light into the mysterious cause behind the conflict in your relationship.

Choose Civility, Senility, Stupidity

2008-07-06T17:09:00.003-04:00

Cranky has been busy lately, and hasn't had time to write about anything of substance, but the long Fourth-of-July weekend allowed Cranky to reflect on a few things.

The first being the wonders of the "Choose Civility" campaign that is sweeping Columbia by storm. It seems like every soccer mom, AARP member, and Baby Boomer is on board with this ineffectual grassroots civility message. Every time I get behind a Toyota Avalon in the fast lane going 35 in a 55-mph zone, or a mini-van cuts me off because they can't use their side mirrors, they invariably have a "Choose Civility" sticker on their bumper. It's almost a guarantee that anyone with one of these stickers is somehow going to "fail" at exercising common courtesy while driving in Columbia.

Cranky applauds the makers of the "Choose Civility" bumper stickers for helping him identify dangerous drivers in Howard County. Additionally Cranky applauds the makers of the "Choose Senility" sticker. See this for more information on this hilarious spoof.

If the makers of the "Choose Senility" modification read this blog, please contact Cranky, so I can donate to your campaign. Additionally, if at all possible, please create also create a "Choose Stupidity" sticker! :-)

Pony Attack, Part Deux

2008-06-13T20:01:00.010-04:00

We made it through the gauntlet, and that was the last we saw of the ponies at our campsite for the remainder of the trip. Our friends, however, were not so lucky.

But first, a little background. The year before, their site was pillaged. Apparently, they left their food out in the open on the picnic table. The ponies came, ate and left a mess. This year, they had a plan. They bought big rubber bins with lids that made an authoritative "clunking" sound when snapped into place. I was impressed, and wondered if our groceries would have survived, had we adopted the same equipment.

Confident that no animal could break the seal on the food containers, our friends ate, drank and made merry well into the night. My parting gift was a rum punch that packed a punch. A "kick in the pants" I believe was the term Jeff used the next day to describe the *nightcap* I served.

The following afternoon we dragged our beach chairs and a few small coolers laden with cold beverages and sandwiches down to the beach. This was the best part of the trip. Two nights into the revelry, and everyone had hit their stride. Today was a day to simply enjoy the surroundings, and the company of good friends.

Sometime after lunch, but before dinner, the story came out; in the middle of the night our comrades awoke to the sound of Joker's hoof, pounding and scraping against the lid of their food containers. The two couples clamored out of their tents to see who/what was causing the commotion. Jeff, one of my *nightcap* victims, was so twisted he ran into the clearing completely naked, before he realized that he was not alone.

Quickly covering himself, Jeff shouted at Joker; just as I had done so early in the morning the day before. Meanwhile, Cinnamon figured out how to pry the lid off the food containers. She grabbed a pack of hamburger buns, and lifted them high over her head, shaking the bag triumphantly.

Jill, another brave camper, commissioned some crockery; banging the pieces together to create an awful racket.

"Oh no, you don't!" shouted Jill. She reached up, and snatched the bread bag right out of Cinnamon's greedy mouth.

That did the trick. Joker trotted off abruptly, mercifully Cinnamon followed without protest. And so ends the "Attack of the Hungry Ponies."

Attack of the Killer Ponies

2008-06-12T16:30:00.015-04:00

Every year for the past three years Cranky and I have gone camping with a group of friends at Assateague Island National Seashore. This year we invested in some new gear to make our trip more comfortable. Most notable of this new gear was the "REI screen house", a roomy, breezy structure that promised to protect us from both sun and bugs.

One of the first things we did when we arrived at camp was to erect our new screen house, and marvel at its sturdy simplicity. Best of all, it has no floor, so you can pick it up and plop it right on top of your picnic table. Voila! Now we could enjoy bug-free dining and drinking, and it worked like a charm. Bugs stayed outside, people stayed inside. Plenty of room, plenty of fresh air, plenty of rum.

Lulled into a sense of superiority by the initial comfort and protection afforded by our screen house, we wrongly assumed that we were at the very *pinnacle* of the food chain on that little barrier island. This thinking led us to make our biggest camping mistake ever: putting the food in the screen house.

Looking back, I honestly do not remember what we did with our groceries on past trips. We must have locked them in the car, because we learned on this trip that even coolers and other types of sealed container are no guarantee of protection from the wildlife. At any rate, we never had any animal invade our tent, so we figured we could leave our grocery bags full of 'smores fixings, buns, chips, granola bars, etc...safely zipped in the screen house; which, after all, is really just a great, big tent.

Watching the embers die on the ocean-front campfire put the finishing touches on my exhaustion. We hobbled back to our site, and crawled into our sleeping bags. The sound of the waves breaking on the beach, coupled with an abundance of fresh, cool, ocean air, sent me to dreamland faster than you can say "Good night!"

However around 5:30 a.m., as dawn was creeping over the Atlantic, I heard a ripping sound, followed by the rustling of plastic bags and crunching. Lots of crunching.

Poking my head out for a closer look, I saw that the screen house had been breached...by ponies! I watched in horror, while one of them (I dubbed him "Joker," cause he was a paint) got tangled in the the screen siding and simply kicked his leg through the material. Meanwhile the other one (whom I named "Cinnamon," because of her chestnut color) grabbed the marshmallows, and proceed to consume the entire bag right before my very eyes.

"Get up! We have company!" I barked at my sleeping husband. I grabbed my hat (what presence of mind, considering the events that followed), and rushed over to the screen house, clapping my hands and shouting "Git! Git! Get outta there!"

My cries had no effect. The ponies on Assateague Island are protected wildlife, and they seem keenly aware of their status. Joker regarded me with a practiced eye, as he continued working his way through a bag of tortilla chips. Cinnamon seemed a tad distraught by my sudden appearance, but she still wasn't giving up on those marshmallows.

"Ha! Ha!" I shouted, and clapped my hands some more. The ponies ignored me, and kept eating. Now I was getting angry.

Cranky stumbled out of the tent, looking dazed and hungover. When he saw what the ponies were doing he laughed hysterically - in that crazed tone reserved for cartoon characters who have completely lost their mind.

"Shoo!" Cranky mumbled as he staggered toward the pony I called Joker. Joker didn't even blink. Cranky flung a handful of sand at Joker. The pony pushed his snout deeper into the bag, rooting around for more treats.

"Alright. I've got an idea. I'll distract them, while you grab the groceries and make a run for the car," I instructed the barely-awake Cranky.

Cranky reached for the bag, and Joker nipped at his hand.

"Ahh!" he yelped, jumping back in fear.

That did it for me. I grabbed one of the tent poles and shook the entire screen house, banging my hat against the side for added effect and yelling like I really meant it. This got Joker's attention. He raised his head from my tortilla chips, and looked at me with dark, angry eyes; giving Cranky just enough time to snatch three of the five grocery bags, and scurry towards the parking lot.

Not wanting to be left alone with the marauders, I ran behind him without a second thought. Once we stowed our provisions safely in the truck, we marched back to our campsite, still unsure of how to permanently remove the ponies. We saw that Joker hadn't budged from his position. In fact, he had done even more damage by punting our pineapple across the table onto the sand, and rustling through the remaining bags that held our plastic cutlery, paper plates and napkins. Meanwhile Cinnamon had torn her way through what was left of the door, and was assisting Joker with his inventory.

Feeling bold, Matt reached in and grabbed a bag right out from under Joker, causing him to back up and hip-check Cinnamon. Seeing an opportunity in the chaos, I tossed some sand and hollered at them to "Shoo!"

Instead, Cinnamon bit Joker in the flank, and snatched a box of graham crackers. I daringly reached for the box, but Joker reared up and charged me!

Fortunately, I had my big, floppy sun hat with me, which I waved above my head while jumping up and down and flailing my arms to look as big as possible. This spooked Joker, and finally convinced him to turn around and head over the dunes. Cinnamon remained, aggressively shaking the box of graham crackers in her teeth to open the plastic bag inside. Frustrated, she dropped the box on the ground and stomped it with her foreleg until the bag burst. She nosed through the crumbs, stomped the box a few more times to render it completely useless, and ambled away over the dunes in search of Joker.

We scraped up what was left of our supplies and trudged towards the car. As we rounded the dune that separated our site from the boardwalk to the parking lot we saw more ponies. Lots of ponies. They were spread out on either side of the boardwalk, creating a virtual gauntlet of equine threat.

"F*ck!" Cranky said.

"I dunno. What's worse, keeping this stuff at our site, and risking a repeat performance; or walking down the path of doom, and hoping nobody notices we have food," I said.

We opted for bravery. After all, the herd was grazing on grass. Perhaps these ponies had not be corrupted by high-fructose corn syrup and partially hydrogenated oils. To be continued...

My Fridge Is a Weapon

2008-04-27T12:34:00.005-04:00

Every once in awhile I actually read the packaging for the food items I'm ingesting. This morning my wife brought Kraft "Mexican Style Four Cheese Finely Shredded Cheddar" to my attention. Apparently, I should be very afraid of this product.

From the package:

"Keep bag away from small children in case small slider should come loose from bag. Immediately discard any loose sliders. Young children may choke on loose sliders. For more safety tips on feeding young children visit http://kraftfoods.com/kf/HealthyLiving/FoodSafety"

This statement so intrigued me that I had to immediately browse to this URL, in the hopes of finding awful stencil art of kids and babies choking on something called a "slider". I was very disappointed as this URL is 404 "Not Found", thus forcing me to browse the Kraft website looking for the correct URL. I didn't find the kid safety link, but I did find some other interesting tips that I thought I should share with everyone.

First up is one of my favorites:

Q8. What's the meaning of the "Best When Used By" statement that appears on some product packaging?

The answer to this question is a long definition of what each word in quotes means in the English language. Which promoted me to wonder out loud, that if you don't know what these words mean, you most likely can't read the answer. Followed shortly thereafter by the immortal words of Samuel L. Jackson, "English Mother @#$%$% do you speak it?"

Next up was this excellent tip:

"Children under 4 should always be supervised while being fed. At this age, children do not have the ability to judge how to eat safely, and may engage in running, jumping and other inappropriate behaviors while eating. Make sure your child is seated at the table, or at least sitting down, when eating."

I thought this was awesome cause I always wanted to run, jump, fly, spin, or some other activity while eating a sandwich or hot dog. Additionally, I wondered why this was limited to 4-year-olds, as the news says most of the adult population attempts to eat while driving, and then acts puzzled when their car ends up in a ditch.

Finally, Kraft has a massive article on "Lunch Box Safety." The most notable quotes from this article are the following:

1. Tote Oscar Mayer Lunchables Brand Lunch Combinations in an insulated lunch bag with an ice pack.
2. Keep hot foods, like soups, stews or chilies, hot. In the morning, bring the food to a boil and then immediately pour into a hot, sterile vacuum bottle. (Sterilize the vacuum bottle with boiling water.)

This may not sound like much on the outside, but as you can see Kraft actually wants your child to be mistaken for a terrorist. If you can remember back to your lunch box (it was most likely made of metal), and then think about adding an ice pack, and full vacuum-sealed bottle of hot liquid. This is now a weapon, that I'm sure the TSA would confiscate from your child if he tried and get on an airplane. Your kid's food might be safe, but the rest of the kids in class are probably not.

Next week I'll be reviewing other highly entertaining warning labels and FAQs from other household items. Including the "Rock Band Guitar is not a real Guitar", and "WiiMote strap must be worn at all times, to prevent WiiMote from going airborne."

Pub Dog and Frisco Grill

2008-03-09T20:19:00.001-04:00

Frisco Grill has excellent guacamole, decent margaritas and a fine mahi-mahi fish taco. They also have live music on weekends, and a low-key, neighborhood atmosphere. Their televisions leave something to be desired, but there are plenty of screens showing various games on any given night. They also do a fine job on nachos and chile con queso dip. Just don't order the vegetarian burrito. The tofu lacks flavor, and has a creamy texture that doesn't quite belong.

In the same shopping center is Pub Dog (http://www.dogpub.net/). It occupies the space once taken by the Hard Times Cafe. While I was sorry to see Hard Times go, the Columbia location was always the red-headed stepchild of the franchise. The food and service paled in comparison to the Northern VA and Bethesda locations. I was always baffled by how the Columbia Hard Times managed to screw up chili, onion rings and chicken wings.

Fortunately, the new Pub Dog (a Baltimore favorite that expanded to Columbia) is a solid establishment with excellent service, good deals and tasty microbrews. I could go on about how friendly the manager and servers are; it's the type of place where you can walk in alone, and have new friends by the end of the night. My only suggestion to Pub Dog is to add some greasy bar treats to the appetizer menu. While the personal pizzas are pretty good, I would love to be able to order some chicken wings, nachos or cheese fries to go with my 2-for-$4 beers.

Seriously...what's the deal?

2008-02-12T16:20:00.000-05:00

I was driving to work the other day, and this crazy woman came up behind me in her Honda. She was right on my tail, and clearly angered by the fact that I was only willing to go the speed limit.

There was a car in the lane next to us, and the minute it sped up as if to overtake me, Ms. Road Rage whipped in behind it. My neighbor was merely matching my speed, and eventually fell behind a bit. This caused the nut-job in the Honda to get back on my tail. Guess she thought if she applied enough pressure I'd put the pedal to the metal. No dice.

Meanwhile the car next to me slowed enough to create a gap for the tail-gater to squeeze in between them and the car in front. Now Ms. Road Rage was right next to me, and hard on the heels of the car in front of them. Too bad they were coming up on some traffic and had to slow down. Sigh. Ms. Road Rage zipped in behind me...again.

This went on for several miles. Given the opportunity, I would have gladly gotten over so she could own the lane; but because she jumped in next to me the minute there was an open space, I had nowhere to go. It was amusing in a futile way, but also a fine example of what's wrong with drivers in this area: they are consumed with self-importance, anger and impatience.

Terrorists sneak around (TSA)

2008-01-27T14:54:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I had the pleasure of flying around the US, and I was reminded of why I call the TSA "Terrorists Sneak Around". Since the institution of the new, post-9/11 TSA regulations, the American air traveler has been continually harassed and pick-pocketed of run of the mill household items.

"Get rid of your lighter, put your toothpaste in a zip-lock bag and make sure that your pill bottles contain only the number of pills you need for your trip."

This creates two classes of travelers; the few who follow all these silly regulations to a T, and the rest of us who have figured out how to hide all these items in plain sight and bypass the security mechanisms in place. Putting everything in zip-lock bags, buying small travel-size toothpaste, and ditching lighters is very annoying and cumbersome. But more importantly, failure to do it correctly only results in the loss of a 25-cent lighter, or a $5 tube of toothpaste. This creates a high tolerance for mistakes. It actually makes economic, and common, sense to practice until you can beat all the security mechanisms, so that when you get off the plane your bag still contains your lighter, your toothpaste and your pocket knife.

If you would like to see this in action, your best bet is an airport that still has a smoking lounge behind the security checkpoints. Plant yourself in this lounge, and wait for someone to light up. You'll be surprised to see that 99% of the smokers managed to get their lighters though security.

Ready to try your hand? Go out and get several small pen knifes that cost between $5 to $10, then spend 10 minutes thinking about how an X-Ray machine works, and what its potential limitations might be. Now place the lighters in your bags, and see how many make it though. (random legal disclaimer cause the world is litigious, "I don't encourage or condone this type of activity.")

The real point behind all of this is, if the average air traveler can figure out a plethora of ways to avoid detection at airport security, don't you think the real bad guys, who have money and time at their disposal, can "at will" avoid detection? With that said, what's the point of the TSA ?

If you agree with me I urge you to write your airline of choice, not the TSA or a government official, and simply say the following:

"I want air travel to be fun and hassle-free like it used to be. Please lobby the government for less security, and less regulations from the TSA. If you do this for me, I'll fly your airline more often and to more destinations. I am the majority, I am the average "Joe", this is a democracy, you are a business, and I understand that you think you have to look strong on security. However, your customers are smart enough to understand that all this tough talk about security is nothing more than a facade. Please make my travel experience better by eliminating, or severely restricting, the authority of the TSA. In return, I will give you more of my money."

A few people to petition:

United:
pam.coslet@united.com.
glenn.tilton@united.com
graham.atkinson@united.com

Continental Airlines:
custo@coair.com

Delta:
daiquiri.gleaves@delta.com

Southwest:
Kelly.Mumford@southwest.com

Other airlines
http://70.87.68.194/~airline/showthread.php?p=487

If you find other email address for people please post them as comments. The best way to find valid email addresses for real people is to search google and MSN for "customer relations manager " Then search the results. Most of the time you will find at the very least the name of the person who holds that title. Then send out a test email to "firstname.lastname@fooairline.com", "firstinitial.lastname@fooairline.com", etc etc until you get one that doesn't bounce.

The Center Strikes Back

2008-01-18T10:46:00.000-05:00

I loved Cranky's last post so much I had to share this link - Huckabee's Proposed Constitutional Amendments

This about sums up my opinion on the 2008 campaign. I am so tired of the polarized rhetoric in politics today. The only take-away is that, no matter which candidate I chose, I am guaranteed to lose some, or most, of my freedoms!

No one for me in 2008

2008-01-07T23:39:00.000-05:00

The only thing on the news as of late is the 2008 Presidential race and the round-the-clock coverage of the Primaries and Caucuses. Since I'm a good little American, and I do exactly what the TV tells me to do, I started thinking about who I am going to vote for in the next election. This irresistible urge to comply with the TV forced me to do millions of Google searches, read all the candidate's websites, troll the forums on major media outlets, and write lots of emails to each candidate on the issues at hand. Unfortunately, after tallying all my results, I've come to the conclusion that I'm pretty much FUBAR when it comes to picking a candidate with views and politics that agree with mine.

The reasons for this are pretty clear, I'm too simple. Now this statement might not make sense to many of you, so I'll lay it out for you without any ambiguity.

My politics are the following.

1. I get to keep my guns, and you don't get to mess with them.
2. I get to keep my money. I made it, it's mine.
3. I don't care about universal health care. 50% of doctors still graduated in the bottom half of their class; it doesn't matter who pays an idiot, the government or me, he's still an idiot.
4. I don't have any faith. There is no God, deal with it, you just die. I don't want the church in my government, and I don't want anything to be decided on faith.
5. Women get to choose. If men got pregnant this wouldn't be an issue, it would be part of the Bill of Rights.
6. Stem cells should be played with as much as possible. Since I got no afterlife coming, I would rather just live forever.
7. Don't spy on me, leave me alone, and I'm not a terrorist. TSA stands for "McDonalds wouldn't hire me/Terrorists Sneak Around". Give me back my lighter, don't take my laptop battery, and zip lock bags don't stop explosions. Please let me get back to enjoying air travel.
8. The government needs to be smaller. Keep the government poor, and remain free.
9. I don't care about Social Security. I'm never gonna see a dime anyways. Figure out how to phase it out.
10. If I have to pay taxes only people who pay taxes get to have my taxes. This is a nice way of saying if you aren't a citizen you don't get to enjoy the benefits of my tax dollars.

Now, given the above I normally favor the Republican party, as it is supposed to stand for "I get to keep my money, my guns, and the government stays small". However as of late the Republican party seems to be waffling on all 3 of these issues, so in all fairness, to find the candidate for me I investigated all the people I could find.

This resulted in the following tally. (shorted to 2 for each side)

Dems:

Hillary Clinton

Pros:
a. Pro-choice
b. Down with stem cells.
c. Godless

Cons:
a. Thinks the 1st and 2nd Amendments aren't part of the Constitution.
b. Champion of universal health care.
c. Wants all my money

Barack Obama:

Pros:
a. Pro-choice
b. Seems to have no real plan for social security. I'll give you a pro on failure to give a crap.

Cons:
a. Plans to use my money to pay for health care, by eliminating tax cuts on the middle class and upper middle class, and then somehow doing some magic of what he calls middle class tax fairness.
b. Really dislikes guns, the NRA rates this guy as Satan.
c. Into the Bible. Defended that he was a Christian, and a true one at that.

Repubs:

Mitt Romney

Pros:
1. Guns are ok, they aren't great, but they are ok.
2. Free market health care. This gets a pro, cause he's in my boat. Doctors can be dumb, no matter who pays them.

Cons:
1. Anti-choice
2. No stem cells, and every time I masturbate I'm killing kids.
3. Loves the God.

Ron Paul

Pros:
1. Small Government
2. Everyone gets a gun.
3. I get to keep all my money.

Cons:
1. Anti Choice - hides behind states rights blah blah blah. Overturn Roe v Wade and all legislation around abortions, because it's not the Fed's problem.
2. No stem cells, the federal government shouldn't fund research around things that are potentially "moral" issues.
3. Thinks teaching Creationism is somehow useful in our schools. Believes Creationism has scientific facts backing it.

After this fun tally I went back and reviewed a number of other presidential hopefuls including McCain, Huckabee, Edwards, Guiliani, Hunter, Thompson, Gravel, Kucinich and came to the following simple conclusion.

The Republican candidates are running the agenda that God is on their side, and because of this abortion is evil; but you get to keep your guns, because we are pretty sure we are evil and you might have to use them to get rid of us. Additionally, the Republicans are running on the platform of smaller government because they believe Congress and the Senate are incompetent, so we should leave things to the states. While on the other hand they want to increase funding to our security agencies, and make it easier to spy on us under the illusion that it keeps America strong. They also want to make DHS bigger, because somehow that agency of the government isn't incompetent.

The Democrats are running on the agenda that you, America, are idiots and they are a super-race of social problem-solvers. They plan to fund stem cell research, so the rich can live forever, while getting taxed to death to pay for a broken social security program. Additionally, they want to tax the almost rich, so they never become rich, to pay for social welfare and universal heath care. All the while taking my guns, and making the government the largest employer in America.

Given the above I've decided that I cannot support any of the current presidential candidates. This is why I'm announcing my bid for president, the cornerstone of my campaign agenda will be the following:

1. Everyone woman gets the right to choose whether or not she will carry a child.
2. I get to have all the guns and ammo I want.
3. I will never trade freedom for security.
4. I will close down the DEA and all the money used on the War on Drugs will be funneled into Social Security. I will then pay out all outstanding balances in the Social Security system and disband the program.
5. I will remove Creationism and Intelligent Design from all Federally-funded educational institutions.
6. I will disband the TSA and "ebay" everything they have confiscated over the years. This should generate billions of dollars. I will take this money to improve our education system.
7. I will severely limit the welfare system, and make it harder to get into it and faster to get out of it. I will encourage people with compassion to start non-profit organizations to help people, if that is what they like to do.
8. On immigration I will open our boarders, as immigration is what made this country. There is no such thing as an American. We all immigrated from somewhere. However if you don't pay taxes, you don't get to use public services; and if you want to be an American citizen you must speak and read English. I will pass legislation to make English the official language of the land.
9. I will overturn the Digital Millennium Copyrights Act (DMCA). American companies should innovate, not litigate, to stay competitive in a global market.
10. I will support a free and open Internet. Network providers will not be allowed to filter content, restrict content, or impose regulations of supported vs not supported protocols or services. I pay for bandwidth. If that is what you sell, then that is what I'm buying.
11. I will overhaul the FDA, so drugs can reach sick people quicker. This will come at the price of safety, in some situations. The American people will be informed of this, and can make their own decisions as to whether or not to take a drug or undergo a procedure that has inherent risk.
12. I will stay in Iraq. Just because the previous administration made a terrible mistake, doesn't mean I'm not obligated to clean up the mess.
13. I will remove the federal regulations that mandate states institute 21 as the legal drinking age, .08 as the legal blood alcohol level, and 55 mph as the maximum speed limit in order to receive federal road money.
14. I will do a bong hit in the oval office, and I will inhale.
15. I will encourage states to hold open votes on the issues of gay marriage. If your state wants this, they can pass their own laws based on the majority of the voting population.

Vote CrankyinColumbia in 08

Sushi! Sushi! Sushi!

2007-12-27T21:18:00.000-05:00

I finally found a good restaurant in Columbia! Sushi King in the Dobbin Center. I was never a fan of Sono - having once spent a night in the bathroom after dining there - so I'd given up on sushi in Columbia. Niko Japanese restaurant in the Normandy Center (route 40 - Ellicott City) is ok, but pales in comparison to my Bethesda favorite, Tako Grill. However Baltimore magazine pointed me to Sushi King (never would've looked for eats next to the MVA Express, but such is the nature of suburbia), and we finally went for dinner.

Loved the food, and the atmosphere, but the service was a bit slackin' and the high proportion of little kids out past their bedtime was somewhat unnerving. One parent was seen bargaining with her tyke in an attempt to convince him that he should "do the right thing" and come out from under the table. I seem to recall spankings being a more effective deterrent to crawling around the floors of public places, but what do I know...?

The real, live plants are a nice touch, though I could've used some scissors to gently prune back the overzealous pothos that was crowding me throughout dinner. I also have never had such a hard time keeping my water glass full in a restaurant. Same for the hot tea; the server didn't ask to fill it up until we were paying the check, despite the fact that I set the glass on the outer edge of the table as a hint (hello? empty! please refill, or remove). Paying the check took longer than getting the food, meanwhile an increasingly angry crowd was building up in the tiny reception area behind me. Guess they were short-staffed?

Since this is a blog centered around narcissistic b!tching and moaning, I figure I can get away with one more gripe (keep in mind this *is* a positive review). When I order the shrimp tempura appetizer I want shrimp tempura...at least four pieces of shrimp tempura. What I got were two shrimp, and a pile of vegetable tempura (there's a reason I did not order the vegetable tempura, and it has everything to do with why I ordered the shrimp tempura). Still, it was tasty, and I suppose there are far worse things in life (bargaining with a toddler comes to mind) than eating some unexpected vegetables.

So if you love sushi, but you hate going to the MVA, you might have missed this one. Do yourself a favor and go there (but try to get seated before 6pm, or it could be a lonnnnnng wait).

They are good .... for now

2007-11-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

It's been awhile since my last post, as I've been cranky and busy. This leaves little time for diatribes on what infuriates me in Columbia. Additionally, being busy for me means I don't get to spend much time in Columbia interacting with the things that plague me, and this town. This is both good and bad, on one side I don't have to deal with the silliness of the Kinkos that can't figure out how to make cards, the Zombieness of Creig, or even the extreme lack of decent food and shopping in the area. That would be the good. On the other side it means I don't get to be creative and poke fun at all the things that make me cranky. So, since I have a few minutes this evening, and there are a number of new places to attack, I'm gonna poke fun at Columbia...again.

The new Columbia Gateway Overlook shopping center is definitely the easiest new thing at which to sling mud. This mega shopping center brings all the things that should have been here 10 years ago. It includes such simple things as a Trader Joes, a Costco, a Houlihans, an On the Border, some crappy (possibly French) cafe thing that is out of place, a Lowes (maybe now HomeDepot will stop sucking), something called 5 Below (seems like the dollar store + 4), and a right wingding Christian book store (also out of place). The funniest thing about it is I can't believe it took so long for these retailers to realize that there is no competition in Columbia.

Here are some simple examples of no competition in Columbia

Mexican food: Don Pablos, the most awful Mexican food possible. Taco bell and this place go round for round on who can give you the most gas. (Mar y Tiera in King's Contrivance was good for about three weeks, before even these hard-working restaurateurs realized where they were and stopped trying.)

American Food: TGI Fridays, and some assorted other low-brow eateries. The last time some thing came out that kitchen sizzling, Nixon was president.

Home Improvement: HomeDepot (HomeDespot), if you find an employee at this location that has actually built something, explain to them that Lowes is now open and they should be with their own kind.

Electronics and other such stuff: Best Buy and CompUseless, where the F*ck is my Fry's or Circuit City.

Groceries: Safeway and Giant, they are in every village center and they all blow. I challenge you to find 2% low-fat organic yogurt at these stores.

Hopefully, now that Trader Joes, On the Border, Houlihans, Costco, and Lowes are on the scene things will begin to suck less. Additionally, I hope someone who owns a Fry's, Circuit City, Rio Grande, Ruth Chris, Whole Foods, Wild Oats, or just about anything that doesn't suck reads my blog. If you do please come to Columbia, we have people and money, and no good stuff, I swear.

But I digress, the real point of this entry was to discuss the fact that "On the Border", "Houlihans", and Trader Joes are now open. For the next two or three weeks all these stores will be in top form. The reason for this, is that the best of the best waitresses, chefs, and bag boys/girls from all the other locations are on site training the real staff. So quickly, while it's good, get the waitress from Arkansas ( not kidding ) at On the Border to make your guacamole in front of you, before the guy from Kinkos who can't work the copier tries to do it.

Hopefully I'm wrong about this possibility of a bleak future. Hopefully, this is the turning over of a new leaf in Columbia. But I won't be holding my breath.

Before I close out this entry tonight, I want to state one more thing. For all those old timers in Columbia that are Cranky about Columbia OverLook and like to call it Box Store Hill and complain about how it looks, and about big stores killing local merchants, I have one thing to say: "Go die in a fire". The local merchants left years ago, there is no good food, and if it wasn't for the Internet I wouldn't have had anywhere to spend my money for the past 3 years. Oh that reminds me, Comcast eat a bag, I've got FIOS now.

Creig Northrop is a Zombie

2007-09-27T21:59:00.000-04:00

If you watch TV, drive, or even walk in Columbia you know who Creig Northrop is. Additionally you know all about the Northrop Team and wonders of his Real Estate Empire. Unfortunately this guy is scary looking, and his mug is on every one of the Long and Foster "For Sale" signs. This guy is so scary that the runner up in Columbia is a guy named Pat Hiban, who isn't scary looking but his name is only a few characters short of Hymen. High School must of been a bitch for that guy. But I digress, every time I see a picture of good ole Creig (why can't you spell is the easy way), I think of an old movie. That old movie is Night of the Living Dead, cause this guy looks like a zombie.

Just in case you don't know Creig, here is a picture:

and here is a picture of a Zombie

I believe the proof is obvious.

Baltimore-area Vendors That Rock

2007-09-18T17:18:00.000-04:00

Cranky and I frequently use this blog to rant about the lost art of customer service. We've bemoaned the incompetence of Kinkos, the laziness of contractors and the dearth of fine dining in suburbia. Finally, we have something good to report!

If you read the Kinkos fiasco you know that we were in the throes of planning a wedding. This is a daunting task, because no matter how much time, money and emotional fortitude you throw at the "Wedding-Industrial Complex" the "machine" will find a way to demand more...More...MORE!

Eventually you realize that you are powerless. You gave up any semblance of control the day you signed your first wedding-related contract. You no longer have the option of refusing to pay for stuff you never knew you wanted, or needed. You no longer have control over when or why you use annual leave; it's now commandeered for countless vendor appointments, often with last-minute re-scheduling, at times that are invariably only convenient for the vendor. Worst of all, family and friends suddenly decide that it's open season on the engaged couple; launching a volley of suggestions, excuses and complaints, as though the event in question were really about them, and not the couple getting married.

We had some interesting problems with our wedding. More vexing than any of the suggestions, and/or complaints we received from loved ones were the things we did not receive from our vendors. These things came mostly in the form of services paid for, but not rendered. For example, we did not receive a refund on our $3000 deposit, paid to one now-defunct charter company by the name of Clipper City Tall Ship, LLC. I also did not receive a call from Columbia Bridal & Tuxedo to cancel my dress fitting; instead they let me find out the hard way that my dress was not ready on the day that I was scheduled to come in for a fitting (there goes another half day of annual leave...).

To say I was an unwilling participant in planning my own wedding is an understatement. Cranky often had to console me as I shook my fists at the sky and declared that I hated "The Wedding." However, in retrospect, I must say that the actual affair turned out beautifully. Everything was special and lovely and magical and...dare I say, perfect.

This was all thanks to a couple of fantastic companies that actually did their jobs. Finding them wasn't easy, it literally happened by accident.

The sheer effort of finding a place to have a wedding in the Baltimore-Washington area took a lot out of Mr. and Mrs. Cranky. The thought of plunking down major coin for a four-hour extravaganza just didn't sit right with us. Yet the traditionalist lurking within crumbled when both sets of parents (who wisely chose to elope) said "Oh, a wedding will be so much fun!" I had one requirement: waterfront. So we started looking for a suitable waterfront venue that didn't require a Hollywood pocketbook, but wouldn't result in Styrofoam containers and paper napkins. This was far more challenging than I ever imagined.

What I should have done is gone straight down to the Inner Harbor and asked for Laura Givens at the USS Constellation museum (www.constellation.org). Laid-back, friendly and competent, Laura made us feel at ease about moving our event from the ill-fated Clipper City to the much classier Constellation. She also has a good relationship with Charles Levine Catering, whom we had already retained through Clipper City.

Charles is an event-planning genius with culinary skills to match. He took care of the flowers, the staffing, the bar, the cake, the tables and chairs, the linens, the music and the food. He read my mind on all of those things without me having to do the work of figuring out how I really wanted the wedding to look, taste and sound.

His crab cakes were all backfin, with just enough filler to hold them together. The wedding cake was the closest approximation to a Snickers bar I could imagine possible. Then there was Joel Holmes, a Peabody Conservatory-trained jazz musician with an entourage of talent that includes his violinist wife and a congo player to make Tito Puente proud. Nothing beats dancing to the rhythms of Latin jazz under the stars and the rigging of an authentic tall ship!

WiFi Fun

2007-08-19T14:56:00.000-04:00

Cranky really enjoys being able to blog, work, surf the net, and goof off anywhere in the house. So when my D-Link Wireless AP's finally died I was very depressed and knew that I finally needed to upgrade the WiFi network. Since I'm a technical guy I did my homework and layed out several requirements for what I needed.

Requirements.
1. There is no hardwired internet upstairs so i needed something with an Ethernet jack that I could plug into my switches so the upstairs desktop computers still worked.
2. The hardwired ethernet in the house is downstairs and is all Gig-E so the BaseStation needed to be gig-e.
3. I really needed WDS so all the AP's and Base Stations could act as one big network.
4. I needed something that would work with my legacy 802.11b/g wireless cards in some of the laptops.
5. I wanted something that also supported 802.11n and MIMO.
6. It needed to be easy to work with and deploy

Based on those requirements I came to two conclusions. Either Apple Airports or linksys WRT300N's. Both seemed reasonable choices, and the Linksys boxes are even hackable which adds all kinds of other neat features.

In the end I went with the Apple setup, the main reason was each Airport Express had and extra feature that the linksys AP's don't have. They have an audio jack that allows you to stream music to them. This sold me, as I have several stereo systems in the house that I could finally stream all my mp3's too.

Nows the part where I bitch about Columbia. I went to go purchase my Airports, since CompuUseless was the closed store, I headed there. What I found was no Airports or Extremes, or even the Linksys devices I scoped out. I also found no staff. This store should be closed down, it never has anything I need. Radio Shack carries more stuff in it's store in the Mall. I want a Fry's, Fry's is way better than CompUseless and Best Buy.

Once I realized that CompUseless was useless I headed to the Apple Store at the mall. Thankfully Columbia just got one of these, it's been open for about 5 months. I really didn't want to drive down to Tysons to the real Apple store that's been there forever..... The Columbia Mall Apple store actually impressed me, it had lots of inventory and also had everything I needed. I also found out that sales associates are called Mac Geniuses, so I tested them with the following question.

Do the Apple Extreme support MIMO and WDS, also since it support 802.11g will performance degrade in mixed 802.11b/g/n environments?

This was met with very blank stares, I realized Geniuses meant sales associate. I returned the nice person to their proper customer greeting location and pointed them to someone with an easier question.

At least they had all my gear. So for the details on cost and setup, read on.

Cost:

1. Apple Base Station Extreme - ~180.00 US
2. 2 x Apple Express - ~100.00 US ( 200 total )

Total cost roughly $380.00

I also had another Express that I received as a gift from work. So all in all 3 apple expresses and one apple extreme.

The checkout lady thought I must be wiring a warehouse, with all this glories WiFi power.

Setup:

1. Install the CD that comes with the Extreme First. It contains a utility called Airport Utility, this is the only CD you actually need to install. Don't use the utilities from the Express CD's.

2. Plugin the Extreme and fire up the Airport Utility

3. You'll see the picture of the hardware on the scree, Click on Manual Setup.

4. Under "Wireless" tab set Wireless mode to "Participate in WDS network". This is the most important step.

5. Configure all the other tabs to your liking / network. Make sure the Extreme has a unique name for your network also write down it's Airport ID number.

6. Open all the Express boxes and write down their airport ids

7. On the WDS tab on the Extreme set mode to "Base Station" a little box will show up for all the Client IDS. Add all the Aiport Ids for the Expresses to this box.

8. Save everything and wait for it to reboot.

Setup for the Expresses

1. Plugin in one express at a time for this.

2. The express will show up in the Airport Utility also. Click on Manual Setup.

3. Under Wireless set Wireless mode to "participate in wds network"

4. Go to WDS tab, set it to "remote base", then type in the Airport ID for the extreme in the box.

5. Set the name for the network to something other than what the extreme is. Save and reboot it.

6. Connect to the Expresses network name with your wifi. Browse Internet, if everything is working it's talking to the basestation and the basestation is forwarding it to the internet.

7. Return to Airport Utility and bring the Express back up. Change the network name to the same name as the Extreme. Save reboot.

8. Rinse repeat for the other Expresses.

Once everything is up, i suggest turning on WPA security. The reason for this is that with 3 expresses and 1 base station you are now a wireless hot spot for your entire neighborhood. People two block away will get signal on your gear.

Top 10 Vacation/Travel Faux pas

2007-07-29T16:16:00.000-04:00

A list of the top 10 Vacation Faux pas committed by others while I was on vacation.

1. Leave me alone - If you come across another person (or people) when walking in a deserted area that is really pretty, don't go in the same direction they are going. Go explore somewhere else.

2. When in Rome - Don't complain to the locals about how backwards they are. These people live there and you don't. They don't want you there and they don't care what you have to say.

3. You are not a local - Don't explain to other people how the locals do stuff after you've been there for two days. You're wrong and now you've spread your stupidity to others who might follow your example.

4. The local food is different - If you're in India don't order anything that doesn't sound Indian. Suck it up and try the Vindaloo. Also remember that if you're in Europe and you attempt to order a Coors Lite someone will stab you for drinking janky beer.

5. Boat Parking - Learn how to park your boat in an anchorage. You put out 5 times the depth in anchor rope (3, if you have chain). This is a simple math problem: depth is twenty feet, you put out 5 x 20 = 100 feet of rope. This also means your boat can rotate in a ~160 foot radius from center. Don't park closer than 160 feet from me, you douche bag.

6. Your pet isn't cute - Just because it's a beach doesn't mean it's a dog park. If you let your misbehaved dog off the leash and it gets near me, pees on me, or barks at me I might eat it later. (May 19th is Eat Your Pet Day, by the way)

7. Leash your children - If you are in some place that isn't made for children like a restaurant, museum, beach bar, grocery store, busy intersection, etc, leash your kids and keep them quiet. It's your fault you had them, don't bother me with your mistake.

8. Don't be a douche in airport security - The big sign says take off your shoes, put your shit in the bucket, take out your laptop, and put all your liquids/make-up/sunscreen in ziplock bags, get out your boarding pass, and show ID. It's in big letters and 3rd grade English, just do it, and do it fast, you're holding up the line. Also if the TSA guy with a no high school diploma has to give you detailed instructions you might want to reassess your own importance.

9. Boarding Groups aren't complex - If you're on a Southwest flight they have a concept called boarding groups. It's not hard, your ticket has A, B or C on it. Get in that line and stay there. A boards first, then B, then C, just in case you missed it.

10. Don't stand in the middle - Standing in the middle of a moving walk way or escalator is dangerous. In most places people say excuse me and politely pass you, in NY or London they will mow you down with no remorse, and then blame you for your own stupidity.

Why do you people follow me?

2007-07-29T15:37:00.000-04:00

For years now I've been searching for the perfect vacation spot. Somewhere far away from everyone, close to nothing, and featuring Mai-Tais. Each time I go somewhere new it always starts out great, no one is there, it is far away from everything, and the Mai Tais are excellent. Then, the next time I go, *you* people are there; taking up space and complaining about how far away it is, how there is nothing there and that the Mai Tais are too good. If I mistakenly return for a third time, someone has built a Wal-Mart and a shopping Mall, and the Mai Tais have been watered down to appeal to the tastes of the people who don't know what a good Mai Tais is. So why do you people follow me?

This is somewhat of a rhetorical question, as I know why you people follow me. You follow me because the places I go are great, and you don't realize that the lack of your presence is what makes it great. This isn't entirely your fault, though. You have simply missed one of the important lessons in life: "how to vacation". Most people think they know how to vacation, they think they know how to relax, however they really end up exhausting themselves in an attempt to escape from the doldrums of everyday life. Most people do this in the form of trying to do *things* while on vacation. Things include getting up early to see sights, trying to get the best spot on the beach and attempting to shop in every store. This results in a vacation not being a vacation, because you rush to a place, fight to get a spot and ultimately are disappointed when the only shopping is Mary Lou's crappy antique store.

So for the short attention span people who didn't do well in school, let me break down the top five things you are supposed to do on vacation:

1. Do nothing and have no plan.
2. Know where the liquor store is and the best bar, then park your ass close to both.
3. Sight-see by accident; if you make it there great, if not, oh well, you probably didn't miss anything.
4. Sleep more. Well-rested people are happy.
5. Actually escape your problems. Don't think about anything, enjoy doing nothing, amuse yourself, maybe even read a book.

Then you will be happy, and I can be happy, not cranky.

Cranky Took a Tumble

2007-07-14T19:08:00.000-04:00

Sometimes you have an experience that teaches you that you aren't as young as you used to be. Yesterday Cranky took a tumble off a motor scooter, and now I'm pretty banged up. Luckily I wasn't being too cantankerous, and actually wore a helmet. Normally, I would say that helmets are for "wussies," but this time around I actually needed one.

It was a rather amusing experience. After watching all the young kids ride the scooter I decided that I wanted to enjoy the wind in my face, and the smell of gasoline mixed with motor oil. So I downed a beer, strapped on my helmet, lit a smoke and jumped on. I immediately realized I was in trouble. I had somehow missed the whole part about how inexperienced riders should sit and not stand, and since I was standing things were about to get bad. The scooter raced away with me standing on it. It was gaining speed, then it began to wobble. This was bad, I assumed. After another twenty feet, and some more acceleration, I realized I was going to crash into a curb, but I didn't make it. The wobble got worse, and then the scooter chucked me to the ground. Bang. Since I didn't make it to the curb, I hit that with my head, after sliding on the pavement.

After 30 seconds I awakened, then passed out, then re-awakened. Now I'm at home licking my wounds, remembering I'm not 15, and having another beer.

House calls...with a toothbrush?

2007-07-09T22:53:00.000-04:00

The long-awaited July issue of Reach Out: The Village Newsletter of Long Reach arrived today. I scanned the headlines as I dodged a neighbor at the community mailbox (he looked like he wanted to talk...)

Among various tidbits about water conservation and gas pipeline inspections, I found one truly interesting advertisement: "Home Veterinary Service - We Come to You!!!" As the owners of two cats, Cranky and I are delinquent in seeing to our pets' health care needs. Part of the reason for this is that the cats don't leave the house, so there is no *pressing* need for shots and flea treatments. The other reason is that they don't like to travel. And when I say they don't like to travel, I mean, they *don't* *like* *to* *travel*.

Mouse, the 20-pounder, wets herself the minute you close the gate on the cat carrier. Nothing is sadder than a large cat covered in her own pee and stuffed into a cat carrier. Loki, the skinny nicotine addict, puts up a horrible yowl and bites viciously. The sounds she emits are so chilling, it makes it difficult to keep your eyes on the road.

Lately, however, we've been considering a trip to the vet for teeth-cleaning. The cats are about seven years old, and their breath is kicking. We've tried the tartar-control treats, kitty herb gardens and other such remedies, to no avail. For all we know, they've got advanced-stage gingivitis...The only thing stopping us is the fact that the big one will need a bath and the little one might send one, or both, of us to the hospital.

So the concept of a vet that makes house calls...well, that's just fantastic! Maybe we'll even splurge on some booster shots and a flea treatment, or two.

Monkey balls!

2007-07-04T11:53:00.000-04:00

Our group of friends has a Memorial Day tradition: camping at Assateague Island National Seashore. Each spring, as the allergies subside and the weather takes a turn for the pleasant, a large group of us heads out to the coast for a long weekend of camping, bugs, weenie roasts and tequila shots. We also go clamming.

Clamming is difficult, but rewarding, work. It's not for the faint of heart, as it involves burrowing your feet into slimy mud while waist-deep in brackish water. However, for every punishment in life there is an equal, and just, reward. This is never more true than in the art of clamming.

The heat of the day and the grossness of the mud are off-set by the coolness of the water, and the tranquil feeling you get from standing in the middle of the Sinepuxent Bay. And let's not forget the satisfaction of procuring fresh shellfish to share with the rest of the camp.

Didn't I just list two rewards, with only one punishment? Fear not, the universe is adept at self-correcting such imbalances.

So as we are shuffling through the mud, toes eagerly seeking the round, hard, rock-like texture of a buried clam, we discover that there is another life form lurking in the deep. Round and hard, but slimy with prickly little hairs, this *creature* is neither plant, nor animal. Most vexing is its ubiquity, and the high number of false-positives it generates.

Basically, you stumble into what feels like a clam, only to retrieve a hairy, quivering, unidentifiable ball. Is it a seed? A pod? An egg of some sort? Or is it a Monkey Ball?!

Cranky's Seal of Approval

2007-07-04T10:01:00.000-04:00

Not everything is bad in Columbia, just the places I go, the services I purchase, and the people with whom I inevitably interact. However, there are a few places that get Cranky's "Seal of Approval."

Merchants Tire on Berger Rd.

Pros:
1. Good people that know what they are doing.
2. They are fast.
3. They have good warranties

Cons:
1. Hidden on Berger Rd
2. Not a full-service mechanic. Oil, tires, brakes only. If someone knows a good full-service mechanic please post it.

Frisco Grill - 8865 Stanford Blvd

Pros:
1. Beers! This is the only place in Columbia that has local brews, and other hard-to-find beers. They don't serve Bud, Coors, or any other crappy American brands.
2. Tuesday Night Trivia. I have a big brain, do you? Works less with more beer; luckily everyone else playing is in the same boat.

Cons:
1. New wait staff. Beer service can be spotty at times, however, this place is better than most in Columbia.

Essential Family Chiropractic

Pros:
1. If you're broken like Cranky, this is the place to go. All the cool kids are doing it.
2. Friendly place.

Cons:
1. None

Barbeques Galore

Pros:
1. Really cool custom grills. So cool Cranky had to buy one.
2. Sauce from all over the country. If you haven't tried Gates Sauce from Kansas City, you're missing out.

Cons:
1. Weekend Manager guy is a little off.

If you think you know of a place that will pass the Cranky Test, send it in and I'll rate it.

Krazy Kinkos

2007-06-30T18:32:00.000-04:00

If you've read the blog on my MySpace profile, or actually spoken to me lately, you already know about the wedding *fiasco*. Long story short, I came back from a very long, very tiring business trip to find a cute little note in my in-box titled "Clipper City Bad News." Clipper City is the name of the boat I chartered for my wedding...which is coming up fast.

Nobody wants to get bad news from their wedding venue. Most wedding news is bad, anyway. It usually comes in the form of "I don't like the tuxedo you picked," or "I realize you don't even know Aunt Harriet, but it's really important that she come, and she needs to bring an entourage, can you make room for them on the guest list?"

So I open the cryptic *bad news* message, only to find that it was, indeed, bad.

"At the end of last week I was told that the Coast Guard had terminated Clipper City Tall Ship's ability to take out passengers indefinitely, effective June 1st." This from the sales director, who also indicated that he had lost his job along with our deposits.

A quick Google search for news turned up gems like "Clipper City owner abandons fight to stay afloat" and "Tall Ship Biz Going Down."

After a disappointing attempt to relocate our event to another local charter company, I got the bright idea to look into the USS Constellation museum. Built in 1864, Constellation is the tall ship in Baltimore. A bad-ass enforcer of the ban on slave trading, piracy and the apparent crime of being either French or Spanish in the New World, the Constellation carried out missions in far-flung locations like the Mediterranean and the Congo River. Perfect! I'll take it! The fact that it was available on our date/time at an affordable rate sealed the deal.

Now what to do with those pesky invitations. Already printed with the other vessel's name, and desperately needing to go out, the invitations were the most vexing component of "Project Wedding Fix."

Enter Kinko's...

My first instinct was to check with a reputable stationer to learn the proper procedure for correcting invitations. The nice folks at Papyrus informed me that it would take two weeks, and cost close to $100 to print correction cards that would neither match my paper stock nor bear the same fonts used on my invites. They advised me to try Kinkos.

Should be simple, right? Can't be harder than buying donuts, and we've been through that...

Not being a desktop publishing expert, I simply created a graphic in Photoshop announcing the change in location and listing the new address. I grabbed the font and colors from the proof of the original invitations, and figured I was ready for Kinkos. Incorrect.

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I walked into the store. A disheveled employee greeted me at the counter with a "What'chu need?"

Me: "Well, I've got this file that I need to print, but I'm not sure what my options are in terms of paper size, weight and color." [I produced my memory stick]

Kinkos dude takes the memory stick, without a word, and hands it to his co-worker who is sitting at a computer some distance behind the counter. The co-worker doesn't even look at me. He grunts at Kinkos dude, who then shuffles back to the counter. Note that my question about paper options has not been answered.

Kinkos dude: "How many do you want to print?"

Me: "Well, it's not laid out for print yet. There's just the one image, and it needs to be about this big." [I pulled out my wedding invitation and showed him approximately how large I wanted the correction card be in relation to the invitation.] "I need to know the paper size options, so that I can figure out how many we can print per page."

Kinkos dude: "Well, if you just have the one image it's going to print one on each page."

Me: [obviously somebody here is missing the point...is it me?] "Umm...well, I don't want to waste a bunch of paper, I would like to figure out how to optimize the process so that the image is duplicated as many times as possible on each sheet."

Kinkos dude: "I can't alter your image, if I do it won't look right."

Me: "Well, how do you do business cards? Do you have a template, or something? Kind of like what you use when you print labels? Then we could just replicate the image across the template."

Eyes flicker with understanding. This is good! Perhaps I've broken through the apathy.

Kinkos dude shuffles back to his co-worker and mutters something to him. Then he pulls a piece of paper off the printer and brings it back to the counter.

Kinkos dude: "Here is what it will look like if we print it four-up."

This is nowhere near what I wanted. The text is blown-up to fill a space the same size as my wedding invitation. What happened to business cards?

Me: "That's too big. Can we make it smaller, and just get as many as possible on the page?"

Kinkos dude: "That's the size of your image. We can't re-size it, because it's a read-only document. I can try to print it like a business card, though."

Ok. Now, I'm getting frustrated, because: a) I know for a fact that my file is not a read-only document and; b) the print-out is approximately 5 x 7, I sized the image in Photoshop at 3 x 1 1/2. Either I really am clueless in the art of print production, or the Kinkos staff is incompetent. Hmm. Probably a little of both, with an emphasis on the latter.

Me: "Look, do you have Photoshop on any of these computers here? I could just create an 8 1/2 x 11 document and duplicate the image a bunch of times until it fills the page."

Kinkos dude: [ignores my question about Photoshop] "Yeah, if you do that we can print it, no problem."

Me: "Well, do you have Photoshop here?"

Kinkos dude goes back and confers with his co-worker.

Enter the *Manager*...

Manager: "What do you need done?"

Me: "I'm trying to print something, but I want to make sure it's sized correctly on the page and that I'm using as much of the paper as possible. What kind of paper do you have, by the way?"

Manager: "Ok. Well, they're going to take care of the printing for you, [produces a sample book, hallelujah!] and here's the paper selection. [eyes my invitations] You're going to want to use card stock with those."

Me: [definitely not convinced that *they* are going to handle anything for me, or anyone else] "Ok, bright white card stock."

Manager: [directed at Kinkos dude and his co-worker, who are huddled around the workstation] "Bright white card stock!"

At this point, I feel that it's totally out of my control, so I simply go over to a table and sit down to await whatever results are headed my way. After about 2 minutes Kinkos dude comes back over with another print-out. This one is much better. The size is correct and there are six on the page now, instead of four. However the ink color doesn't quite match, and anybody can see that the page can handle more than six.

Me: [deciding not to tackle the ink color issue] "Well, the size is much better, but can't we fit more than six per page?"

Kinkos dude: [looking like he wants to strangle me] "I can't put more than six on the page without re-sizing the image, and then it won't look the same."

At this point, I really don't understand why adding more items to the page requires re-sizing, but I'm feeling defeat setting in. Not to mention, he's already re-sized it to bring it back from the 5 x 7 into something the fits on a business card. However, if I keep insisting on a logical explanation for things, nothing will get done, so f*ck it!

Me: "Ok, fine, but I'm going to need you to cut them up, too."

Kinkos dude: [really wants to strangle me at this point] "Awwlright." [in a tone that implies I'm only asking for more trouble and/or disappointment]

He goes back behind the counter and spends the next five minutes manually hacking away at the sheet of paper. It takes about 18 cuts before he has something to show me. Meanwhile, I'm wondering how they deal with bulk orders...can't this process be automated?

Kinkos dude hands me the print-out, now cut into six unevenly-sized pieces.

Me: "Um, these are totally uneven. I mean I guess it doesn't matter, because people won't be comparing their invitations (I hope), but can't you set the cutter to specific dimensions?"

Kinkos dude: "Yeah, it's uneven because I did it by hand. But yeah, nobody's going to notice that they aren't the same size since they'll all be going to different people."

Me: "Ok, whatever." [this keeps getting more and more complicated, and I have no idea why.]

Kinkos dude: "How many do you need?"

Me: "125. At six per page that is...let's see, how many pages?"

Kinkos dude: "Uhh. 38."

Me: "No, it's six into 125. That equals 21 (actually 20.83, but we'll round up since it's sheets of paper and they don't come in fractional sizes)."

Kinkos dude shrugs and wanders back to the printer area. When he comes back he's got several stacks of uniformly-sized business cards bearing my message. I don't bother counting them, I simply pay as quickly as possible so that we can leave.

But before I say goodbye to Kinkos (forever, I hope) I figured I might as well use the restroom. At least that seemed convenient and straightforward. Again, not the case. After washing my hands I turned to the paper towel dispenser, and pumped the lever a few times. Nothing came out. That's when I noticed the sign on the dispenser.

"Hand driers are more efficient and better for the environment. They prevent trees from being used as paper towels."

Oh. So that's why the towel dispenser is empty. Too lazy to remove it, they simply stopped filling it, and pasted a stupid sign about how it's better for the environment to use electricity than a renewable resource, like trees. If Kinkos was really concerned about the environment, they should encourage their staff to figure out how to fit more than six business card-sized graphics onto an 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of card stock!

Little Black Ants

2007-06-30T12:04:00.000-04:00

I'm locked in a ongoing battle with the little black ants. The initial invasion was definitely a surprise attack in the middle of the night. I woke in the morning to find my kitchen was now an occupied territory, and my cats had been compromised. Obviously the ants had made a treaty with the cats, as the cats were just watching them take their food. Attempts at negotiations with the cats stalled immediately, as their terms involved complete access to the TemperPedic bed at all times. Failure to negotiate with the cats forced me to turn to conventional warfare.

I gathered my ant baits and Ortho outdoor home defense and began a campaign of chemical warfare on the ants homelands. I systematically attacked all their strongholds, training centers, and weapon caches. Additionally I established complete air superiority. After several days of ground and air bombardment I deployed outdoor land mines (baits) and napalmed the rest of the yard (hose with poison spray). Unfortunately there where civilian casualties (a plant or two), but nothing that wasn't calculated. At this point I began to contemplate declaring victory.

The ants, however, regrouped and switched to a guerrilla warfare strategy. This involved suprise attacks on the cat food, a night time rush on the pantry, and daring raids into the living room. My large (20 pound cat) was also compromised and needed a bath after I found several live ants on her.

I called in mercenaries. They, too, laid waste to the land, sea and air. For several days afterwards the house was completely free of the ants. I thought it was time to declare total victory. I was dead wrong.

The ants struck in force on Thursday June 28th in an attempt to reoccupy the kitchen. It was a major battle, the vacuum (the ultimate ant killer) was deployed slightly before my position was overrun. The ants had shown me they were still a major threat.

I needed new tactics and new weapons... Over the next two days I perfected a concoction of Simple Green, Ortho Home Defense Max, and sugar. It didn't kill on contact but after 2 minutes it caused them to explode. It was devastating and disgusting. After extensive satellite surveillance (I'm tall), I deployed my new weapons in strategic locations.

Stay tuned for the outcome.....

The DC Handshake

2007-06-28T10:03:00.001-04:00

I had the pleasure of learning the DC Handshake the other day. For those people not familiar with the DC handshake I'll try and explain it, so that if you ever run into it you know how to do it properly.

The handshake starts out the normal way.

DC -> Hi, nice to meet you Joe.
You -> Nice to meet you too, Bob.

Minor pause.

DC -> So where did you go to school? (start of the dominant dog butt-sniffing ritual)
You -> I went to XYZ school.
DC -> I went to Ivy League XYZ school (Ivy is a trump card; you lose this round)
You -> Oh that is really interesting.
DC -> So what do you do for a living? (Next round of butt-sniffing)
You -> Oh I work for Company X as a Y.
DC -> I'm a partner in Law Firm X. (Setting you up for the money question)
You -> Wow that is really interesting.
DC -> So does your job pay pretty well? (Just to make sure you make less)
You -> Yeah it's alright.
DC -> Last year I made 200k + bonus (Just to clarify your failure)
You -> That's really impressive (At this point you have lost)
DC -> Nice to meet you. I'll catch up with you later (I won't be back; you suck)

Now, if you get in this situation the correct way to answer is the following:

DC -> So where did you go to school? (Start of the dominant dog butt-sniffing ritual)
You -> I graduated with Honors. (No school, just titles; it catches them off-guard)
DC -> I went to Ivy League XYZ school. (Now he's off guard and trying to recover)
You -> [Yawn...] So how much do you make? (Beat them to it)
DC -> I'm a partner in Law Firm X, and I make 200k + bonus.
You -> Not really enough money to live around here is it? How's your townhouse?
DC -> Uh, my town house is fine. (Might have to back down)
You -> Kind of sucks to have to live around other people, doesn't it? Do you have a yard?
DC -> It's actually really nice, the city is really excellent. (Translation: you asshole)
You -> How's traffic? I hear it sucks.
DC -> I don't have a car, I ride the metro.
You -> You make 200K and you don't have a car? Traffic must be hell! How are the seats on the metro?
DC -> Fine. I usually stand.
You -> Ever been mugged?
DC -> Nice meeting you, I have to run over there, and talk to XYZ.

You = Win :-)

2008 Campaign makes me cranky

2007-06-27T09:23:00.000-04:00

Cranky is a little extra cranky today. About two months ago I started an experiment, a very simple one. Since the 2008 campaign seems to be heavily invested in using the Internet for publishing information and reaching out to the Gen-X crowd, they are using things like MySpace, Blogger, and other social networking sites. So...I thought I would see if I could actually get some real answers to my real questions. I put together a short list of issues, limited this list to 3 questions since I know people are busy, and sent it to every candidate that was running at the time.

I tried several different methods to get my questions to the right places. I used the "ask a question" button that existed on some candidate websites, I sent emails to addresses in the "contact us" pages and I tried a couple of other emails like "info@" and "candidateX@" addresses.

Since I don't want to get political today, I'm just going to post the results.

1. 25 Spam messages received about rallies.
2. 1 packet of information mailed to me, did not contain answers to questions.
3. 10 Spam messages received on answer to questions I didn't ask.
4. 1 email pointing me to new Obama ring tones. Interesting.....
5. 2 emails about debates on Yahoo.
6. 2 unsubscribe notices from Clinton's site, as the first time didn't work.
7. 3 other emails stating that it could take over 48 hours to remove me from their emails lists, just in case they wanted to spam me again very soon.

Oh well I tried.

Com-crap-stick

2007-06-23T17:57:00.000-04:00

Enough said, up down up down up down up down up down. I can't even post my cranky comments. Crap Tastic Comcast...

Columbia Shopping Hordes

2007-06-23T16:13:00.000-04:00

I've already told you there isn't any food here, but what you might now know is that there isn't any shopping here either. The only places to shop are Wal-Mart, which as we all know is the evil empire, Target, which is a runner up for evil, and the Columbia Mall, which is full of pre-teens and teenagers. So, if you need something simple Tar'get and the 'Mart are your only choices.

Today I needed Cat Food and Ant Poison, because one, my cats are hungry, and two, the pest control guy can't seem to kill the ants in my kitchen. I set out for the Pet's Mart (we actually have one), and I was pleasantly surprised that, on a Saturday, the parking lot was empty. I then realized that it was empty because Best Buy moved out of the shopping center, and incidentally, out of Columbia. Best Buy realized that paying Columbia taxes was stupid, when they could just move two miles down the road and be way better off.

After the Pet's Mart experience I was really happy, because it didn't suck to get in and out of the parking lot. I prayed that finding my Ant Poison would be a just as enjoyable. Since I had on my "Wal-Mart. Your place for cheap plastic sh!t" T-Shirt, I assumed that Wal-Mart was a bad option for a good shopping experience. I went to Target.....

To get into Target you have two options, a four-lane road that you have to figure out how to cross, or a two-lane road that has two incorrectly timed lights. Doesn't sound that bad until you realize that the four-lane road is very busy, and you have to make a left across the oncoming traffic. The two-lane road is even worse; having two traffic lights in less than 50 feet.

Once you figure out how to actually get to the Target, you then have to figure out how to get a f*cking parking space. This is a pretty complex endeavour, because, as I said earlier, you only have three options for shopping in Columbia, so the place is packed with the Columbia Shopping Hordes.

The Hordes are made up of the following:

1. The front lines are the Elderly - The elderly run interference in the parking lot by standing in the middle of the road, or wandering aimlessly through the parking lot. If you get really unlucky they attempt to cross the road in front of you with a walker or some other slow mode of locomotion.

2. The second lines are the Soccer Moms - These ladies drive aimlessly through the parking lot looking for the best place to park. They take hours to do this, and most of the time they cut you off without even noticing. Then they unload their car, and twelve screaming children run out of it. Most of the time the kids run into the lanes of the parking lot and attempt to commit suicide. I like to honk at them, as it causes them to jump or cry. Either way, it's funny.

3. The third line is the Family Shopper - These people show up in force, mom, dad, kids, grandma, cousin, uncle, etc, all in the same mini-van or SUV looking to shop this store all day long. They have lists and are motived, but they have to carry a load of people with them everywhere they go. Normally they have two carts, and take up an entire aisle in the store. They bother you by always being in the aisle you need to be in, and taking up the entire thing. They can also be spotted by the cart size package of toilet paper they have.

4. The last line is the Asshole - These are the people that think the store belongs to them. The guy that parks his cart in the middle of the aisle, the 20-item guy in the 10-item-or-less express checkout line, the d!ck without a UPC on something, the open item guy, the lady that investigates every carton before moving to the next item, the pre-teen running through the store, the idiot who can't use the credit card machine and continues to swipe the card the wrong way, the store employee who doesn't know where something is and finally, the douche bag who can't make change.

After I navigated the hordes I left the store only to be greeted by the teenage parking lot party, that just so happened to be in my way. They had snarled traffic out of the parking lot for miles. The elderly, the soccer moms, and even the assholes couldn't figure out what to do. I gunned it, and they moved. Time for a drink.

Dunkin'Robbins

2007-06-23T11:48:00.000-04:00

Because Columbia is a suburban hamlet, it does not support independently-owned businesses; especially restaurants and coffee shops. Read "All You Can Eat Suck" for more on this phenomenon. This means our dining choices are limited to Ken-Taco-Hut, Dominato's and "a great little I-talian place called the Olive Garden" (an actual quote from a real, live moron!).

So on this fine, Saturday morning in the middle of June I decided to get some doughnuts and bagels. In my old neighborhood in Arlington, VA I had a choice of three places within walking distance - Pastries by Randolph (or Randy's Pie Shop, as my dad calls it), Cassat's (a coffee shop) or Parisienne Express (self-explanatory). All of these options included good coffee, baked goods made on the premises by the owner and a short line (never more than 2-3 minutes of waiting).

Here in Columbia we are fortunate to have a shopping center within walking/biking distance (biking recommended for expediency's sake). That's where the good fortune ends. The rather paltry offerings of said shopping center consist of: Giant Food grocery store, Royal Farms convenience store, a dry cleaners, a sub-standard Asian joint, a sub-standard Italian joint, a Wings-to-Go (yet untested), a travel agency (who uses them anymore in this age of Orbitz and Travelocity?!), a UPS store (next to Giant, probably the most useful business in the center) and a Frankenstein-like combination of Dunkin' Donuts and Baskin Robbins, which I refer to as Dunkin'Robbins. Note the auspicious and vexing lack of a liquor mart.

For the purposes of this morning's errand, I knew I would be forced to patronize the Dunkin'Robbins. I scooted up there on my bike, looking forward to the guilty indulgence of a doughnut assortment and an everything bagel with cream cheese on the side. This was only my second time using this particular Dunkin'Robbins, and the last time didn't go so well because the store was out of everything except for cranberry-granola bagels and strawberry doughnuts (blech!). So I had some fear in the back of my mind, especially when I saw the swim meet at the neighborhood pool (the horror!). Would the donuts be gone? Would the line be long?

Indeed, the line was long. Out the door, in fact. I walked in at the same time as about five other people. "Jesus Christ!" exclaimed one man, who turned angrily and got back in his car. The other people wandered off in the direction of Royal Farms. I chose to stick it out. Fifteen minutes later I found myself before an impatient cashier who demanded to know if she could "help" me in broken English. Sadly, the everything bagels were gone. So were all the other bagels, except for the dreaded cranberry-granola (they had plenty of those on hand). Fortunately, the doughnut selection was in better shape. Reluctantly I chose the last sesame bagel (battered beyond recognition) and four donuts.

Why was this such an ordeal? Well, first of all Dunkin'Robbins doesn't make any of their donuts or bagels on the premises. Their inventory is held hostage by the logistics capabilities of some central distribution facility. If they don't deliver enough of a popular item the store is out of that item until the next delivery. They also had about five people standing around with only one register open. The line was 20 people long, and customers were ordering donuts and ice cream. However, nobody was standing in the Robbins section of Dunkin'Robbins. Therefore, the people ordering ice cream held up the people ordering donuts and vice-versa. As a final touch, the doughnuts are hidden behind a rather tall counter. Customers have no way of browsing the available doughnut choices until they are actually being helped, and usually the person ahead of them in line was still finishing their transaction, effectively blocking the view. Brilliant!

This never happened at Randy's Pie Shop. A refrigerated glass case, displaying the artistry of Randy's expert pastry-making runs the length of the store. Staff are spread all along this counter helping customers. When you enter the store, you simply take a number and are helped as soon as your number is called, which generally coincides with the amount of time required to look over the selections.

Although Randy's staff consists of the standard retail workforce fare, teens, recent arrivals (immigrants) and grizzled veterans, all behaved like professionals. They were always courteous, clean and knew how to make change. Sadly, this cannot be said of the Dunkin'Robbins staff. Of the five people behind the counter this morning only one was working, the grizzled veteran who also happened to have weak English skills. She encouraged her teenage co-worker (who was laughing and flirting with the two "toaster jockeys," who were also f*cking off) to start helping customers behind me. Remember that I couldn't see which donuts/bagels were still in stock because the person ahead of me was still paying (one register, cashier with no math skills), so how could the person behind me place an order without shoving me aside? The resulting chaos left us all frazzled.

So what do I recommend? I think Dunkin'Robbins should add a walk-up window, a drive-thru window and a walk-in shop with two separate lines that are fully-staffed and clearly marked. I also think they should add in-house baking capabilities. How hard can it be? Subway bakes their own *bread* (I use the term lightly), so why can't Dunkin'? Next, I would invest in (as part of their corporate responsibility program) developing high school math curricula that teaches the next generation of cashiers and retail managers HOW to MAKE CHANGE. An important skill, even if they never work retail.

Finally, I would add a freakin' liquor store to the Columbia Palace shopping center. I know I needed a drink after my donut run, and wouldn't it be nice to make booze-buying a walkable endeavour? Perhaps I will lobby MADD to get the licensing process started...

Contractors

2007-06-13T17:47:00.000-04:00

What is it with Contractors these days. I'm trying to pay you to come over and do something I don't want to do. I'm even willing to pay you more than what it is actually worth. Yet somehow contractors in Columbia won't even come over to give me a god damn quote.

I hate you Contractor...

The Trash Man Cometh

2007-06-08T11:51:00.000-04:00

I was so relieved that the trash guys came and collected today. They were really late, and a part of me wondered if Columbia had decided not to collect trash anymore.

I can see it now, a proclamation in the Long Reach Community newsletter, or even more likely, a cryptic note on the CA website stating the following:

"In response to the rapid filling of the landfill on I-70 the Columbia Association will no longer collect trash from private residences. Residents must provide their own trash removal services. Entry to the landfill requires a Class 5 commercial vehicle and commercial waste removal permit. Homeowners are required to remove trash in a timely fashion, or will face fines and penalties as determined by the Columbia Association bylaws."

That's pretty much the junk policy. If you have furniture or other large items that are too big for the garbage truck, you are out of luck. You must drive them up to the landfill in your own vehicle. For those of us who do not own a pick-up truck or SUV, we simply have to let the junk accumulate. We've tried bribing various delivery services to remove old items when dropping off new ones (grill, sofa, pool table, etc...), but alas, they wanted no part of our Sanfordia.

If you cannot remove the junk, you must hide it. Under no circumstances can junk be left out in plain view. It might offend the neighbors, or more likely, it might offend the Columbia Association. However, the definition of junk is rather fluid.

On our street there is a house that is poorly-maintained, and host to a variety of junk-like items (a dead car, an old storm door, various bright orange plastic cones and several cast-off pieces of styrofoam). For some reason, this house does not get penalized, or if they do, the penalties are not sufficient to motivate the owner/renter to dispose of his junk.

Yet another neighbor had the audacity to build a pagoda-style enclosure for their hot tub. For this grievous offense, there was indeed a penalty stiff enough to encourage immediate action. The Long Reach association (a localized *arm* of the Columbia Association), slapped them with a threat of steep monetary fines if they didn't demolish their pagoda and re-build it in a style more in harmony with the rest of the neighborhood. Apparently, their pagoda was *too* Asian. A quick walk past the surrounding houses in their cul-de-sac showed a number of yards with distinctly zen-like fixtures. So what made their pagoda too Asian? And what is wrong with tasteful Asian styling on a pagoda that hides a hot tub, and it's possibly naked bathers, from view?

Sadly, we'll probably never know the answers to these questions. In the meantime, I will continue to count the orange plastic cones and track the movements of styrofoam chunks, hoping and praying that they will cross the property line so that I may dispose of them in the proper manner.

Community Mailboxes

2007-06-07T20:33:00.000-04:00

So who thought Community Mailboxes where a good idea? Is it so damn hard for the post office guy to walk around to all the houses and deliver the mail? Is the post office guy so lazy that a community mail box was the only way to solve the age ole problem of "where the f is my mail?"

Was somebody sitting around going, "People will talk to each other while they get the mail everyday, that's a great idea."

Are they a retard? I don't want to talk to my neighbors. Do you?

So this guy and his MiniVan

2007-06-07T20:25:00.000-04:00

So there is this guy that drives around Columbia in a mini-van. The mini-van is covered in:

"Save America Now... Stop Hillary Clinton"
"Save your freedom... Stop Hillary Clinton Now"
"We are all gonna die.. Stop Hillary Clinton"

I'm pretty much with the guy, however, I think he needs better signs. Cause all the signs are taped on the side of his van. That's gonna take this paint off.. I can't believe the Republican party doesn't have enough money to get this guy some good ole magnetic signs.

Additionally I want some more signs

"Oral isn't sex... Follow Hillary Clinton"
"Cheating is ok... Follow Hillary Clinton"
"I'm not in it for the money... Follow Hillary Clinton"
"Bill is really sweet... Vote for Hillary Clinton"

California Tortilla

2007-06-07T17:13:00.000-04:00

For all the suck food in Columbia. California Tortilla currently sucks the least. It still sucks, but it sucks less than most places.

Reasons it still sucks.

1. The Burritos are bad.
2. They need staff, as the line was out the door.
3. They have new tables and they wobble.

Reasons it doesn't suck as much as other places.
1. Taco's = good
2. Lots of hot sauce
3. Staff was actually nice.

Columbia (McGaw Plaza)
8874 McGaw Road, Suite E
Columbia, MD 21045
Phone: (410) 290-9966

Who rides the bus?

2007-06-03T17:48:00.000-04:00

Howard County has a bus, in fact, it probably has like three or four of them. They are ugly green monsters that run on diesel, or some other silly fuel. When they accelerate up a hill they make lots and lots of noise, and then go very slowly. Every morning I have to listen to this stupid bus pass my house, and every morning around 7am it wakes me.

The neighborhood where I live doesn't have a single home less than $425,000. Why the f!@#ck is this bus on my street?

For those of you who don't live in Columbia, this might sound like a mean statement. Especially if you live in San Fran or D.C., or some place where a bus is actually used for commuting to your job. Here in Columbia, the bus takes people who can't afford a car past houses they can't afford to a shopping center where, if they are lucky, they might find a minimum-wage job. Hardly a vehicle for upward mobility.

I'll recap for the people who don't see my point. If you can buy a $425K house, you can buy a car. You don't ride the bus. Especially a bus that doesn't get you any closer to the job markets in Baltimore, D.C. or Northern Va. The people who do ride the bus don't live in the neighboorhood; and the bus doesn't go where they need to go. So why is there a bus stop on my street?

By the way I sent an email to the Columbia Association about this, and they told me to send an email to Howard County. So I sent an email to Howard County, and they told me to bite it.

All you can eat suck

2007-06-03T17:24:00.000-04:00

All the crappy restaurants in Columbia got together and joined forces with CarryOutMenu.com . The one stop place for all the sh!@#$ty food you can find in Columbia. But at 6pm on a Sunday when it's raining and your too lazy to cook anything cause the guy at the grocery store destroyed your dinner, it's a great place to go.

Unfortunately the entire site is full of SQL injection, cross site scripting, and is most likely running a vulnerable version of IIS. I've never actually cared to look, but I've been told that if you remove the tip amount and leave it blank you'll get an awesome database error back. I would assume that every field is like this.

Please do not use CrankyInColumbia's CC. Cause then I'll be Cranky and in your city.

What the F, Bowling Alley

2007-06-03T17:10:00.000-04:00

Since there isn't anything to do in Columbia, you have to settle for what is around. So I settled for some bowling with by buddies. It actually sounded like a hella fun time. We set out for the bowling alley.

Brunswick Columbia Lanes
(410) 381-7750 | 7100 Carved Stone Columbia, MD

Everything started off pretty well, except for the smoking ban going into effect the day we went. You ever heard of a Bowling Alley where you can't smoke? Oh well I'll live.... At least the bar wasn't banned also....

After a couple pitchers of beer, I was getting hungry for some serious crap. Images of hot dogs, burgers, chicken fingers, nachos ran through my head. So I headed to the concessions stand to order my food. First off there was no one manning their post, so I had to yell over to the manager guy running the place and ask for some assistance, he finally found the person who would take my order. I set off asking for a burger and a patty melt, cause I was both drunk and hungry. The lady behind the counter stopped me half way through my order to inform me the grill wasn't on. I assumed this just meant that I would be awhile before my order was ready, so I continued on. She stopped me again and said "The Grill isn't on" to which i replied "So?" she then informed me that the only thing I could have was a hot dog or chicken fingers, cause the fryer and the heat oven where both on. I asked if she could turn the grill on and I was informed that it would not be possible to do that. I ordered the hot dog and chicken fingers, and told the lady what lane number we where on. See then informed me she was not a waitress and would not deliver my food. I would have to return in an unknown amount of time to get it.

So the lady is paid to run the grill but it's not on, and it's too f'n hard to walk 10 feet to deliver my food when it's ready. Please explain to me what the F this person is does here? By the way the chicken fingers and hot dog were 10 dollars, and the beer was 12.50 a pitcher. For crappy YingLing (however you spell it, it still sucks).

Stupid Giant

2007-06-03T16:49:00.000-04:00

Today I was standing in line at Giant loading my cart onto the checkout belt. So I align my valuable crush able items in specific last order, so my jar of pickles doesn't end up on my carton of eggs and pray that the kid behind the counter will get the hint. Unfortunately since the kid behind the counter hasn't ever purchased groceries before, he begins to destroy everything I've carefully selected for dinner tonight.

When I grew up bagging groceries was a fine art form performed by a courteous highly skilled professional, who if you shopped there on a weekly basis actually knew your name. Additionally if all you had was a small hand basket they would unload if for you, and put the basket in a magic place where some other courteous store employee would restock it back to it's correct location. These days the kid behind the counter is playing his Nintendo DS, smashing your stuff, and complaining that you need to unload the basket before he or she will actually scan your items. Additionally the little prick makes 10 to 15 bucks an hour, doing less than what is required.

So I get my groceries to the car, and put them in the trunk, and I look around for the place to put my cart, and realize that there is only one in the entire 100 acre parking lot. Genius, I'll walk this f'n thing all the way over there, wobbling wheel and all. I get this cart over to the proper place, and a store employee is picking up all the carts to take back to the store. So I ask her if she would like to take my cart, the response I got was "Nope" I only need to take these 5 carts back, just put yours in the cart parking place. Its not like you got to take them far lady, in these parts you park them outside next to the door, so they can get rained and snowed on. In civilized parts of this world the shopping carts go in the store............

Intro

2007-06-03T16:26:00.000-04:00

So for a long time I've had this feeling that everything in Columbia, MD sucks. So to prove my point I'm going to start documenting all the stuff that continues to suck in Columbia. Not that anyone really cares.

Just for starters I'll hit on a view easy to explain ones, that don't need to much detail to understand.

1. Howard County, where Columbia is located just instituted a smoking ban. This sucks, we, as in the people of Howard County didn't even get to vote on it. The County just decided one day that this was the way it's gonna be. This pretty much caused all the bars in Columbia to close immediately cause, they sucked to begin with, but now with no smoking all the people that went there would rather smoke and drink at home now.

2. There isn't anything to do in Columbia. The food sucks, there are only limited chain restraunts, and the mom and pop restraunts are terrible. I'll write about them later in more detail.

3. The people here suck.

4. Columbia states - "We are between DC and Baltimore it is a great location" - What is really should say, is you are 20 minutes from Baltimore and 2 hours from DC, cause your gonna sit on 495 for days.

5. No one here ever learned how to merge into traffic. People come to complete stops getting on the highway, and then attempt to merge at 10 miles an hour. They then wonder why Semi Trucks keep killing them.

6. The Super Markets blow. You can choose from a run down SafeWay, or a run down Gaint. Both of them make sure that every retard highschool kid has a job, so they can break your eggs and smash your bread. Also they don't stock any Organic foods, or high end items. Good luck finding 1 item in the entire store that doesn't contain 10 pounds of Trans Fats.