Boiled Dinner

A Letter to my Senators

2009-10-20T09:30:00.002-06:00

After reading this, I wrote the following letter to our two US Senators from Colorado, Mark Udall and Michael Bennet.

Hello Mark, I've not typically been the type to write his local politicians for anything. I tend to be a speak-with-my-vote kind of guy. But as one of the millions of solidly middle-class citizens bearing the brunt of our fragile economy every day, I feel beleaguered, even defeated, when I read this from the Washington Post Online: "At rescued banks, perks keep rolling." (entire article linked below). We threw $700 BILLION to Wall Street with little more than a note that said, "Happy birthday! Go buy yourself something just for you." And as my wife and I are struggling to decide whether or not we let the bank foreclose on a rental property that's been sucking us dry for the past six years, Kenneth Lewis, Jeffrey Peek, Ralph Babb and Alvaro de Molina are showing off what they spent on their shopping spree. What I need from you, and from Michael Bennet, and from every single person who claims to represent "the people of this great nation," as politicians are so fond of labeling us, is to feel the outrage and betrayal that we feel and get this figured out. Today. Because this country is boiling, man, and people are ready to lose it. You see it in the schools, in the malls, on the highways, in the workplaces... Rage. Not anger, not hurt. Rage. It's a frightening time. I'm originally from Michigan. Lived there for 27 years before moving to Colorado in '97. I was in Detroit last month for the first time in years. Have you seen Detroit lately? It looks like a movie set for Blade Runner II. That's today's America. That's what $700 BILLION to Wall Street gets us. So change it, Mark. Just... change it. You can, you know. Find out who's with you -- who are the real Americans up on Capitol Hill -- and grab them and start beating the crap out of any poser up there who doesn't think this is the most important issue facing our country today. We need you.

The Tragedy of Detroit

2009-10-13T15:25:00.003-06:00

The above image is from a stunning photo montage by Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre, called simply The Ruins of Detroit.

Detroit has been the convenient butt of jokes for a number of years. Crime rates. Corrupt government. Corrupt unions. Greedy, irresponsible industry. We can argue until we've lost our voices over what Detroit has fallen into ruin, but one fact remains undeniable: This is one of the great tragedies in our country's history.

As Marchand and Meffre state on their website, "Nowadays, (Detroit's) splendid decaying monuments are, no less than the Pyramids of Egypt, the Coliseum of Rome, or the Acropolis in Athens, remnants of the passing of a great civilization."

I admit I am not an objective observer. I'm from Michigan, and grew up going to Detroit to Tigers games, the Henry Ford Museum, Greek Town and the Fox Theater. I have family who live(d) there and work(ed) there. I'm from a family of automotive workers. There was once great pride in that, by the way.

The Detroit of the early 1900s was, in large part, responsible for the creation of this country's middle class. We were manufacturing actual things. Things people wanted to buy and use. No more. What do we manufacture in this country now? Electronic transactions. Fake money. Intellectual property. That's just about it. So bye bye Detroit.

Again, I'm not here to argue about who or what is at fault. Anyone who thinks there's a simple answer to that is a simple person. I care about the people. Lost homes, lost jobs, lost families, lost lives. No matter who you are or what your political beliefs, these are fellow Americans. Not to be confused with a bunch of book-cooking crooks who were bailed out by our inglorious government to the tune of 700-something BILLION dollars, mind you. These are my relatives.

Go click the link above and look at the pictures. The one of United Artists Theater literally made me cry. Cry for what has been permanently lost.

Of Milk and America.

2009-09-20T09:29:00.004-06:00

Last night we finally got around to watching Milk. I'd had a copy of the movie since it was still in theaters (one of the perks of having a SAG card -- DVD screeners!), had even loaded it onto our Apple TV so that I could just push buttons to have it play rather than going through the hassle of standing up, taking the DVD out of the case, opening the DVD tray... good god, I'm exhausted just thinking about it. But, when the occasion would come that wifey and I could watch something we wanted vs. the Wiggles or the Wiggles, we'd inevitably choose something else. Milk is definitely one of those movies you gotta be in the right mood for. And finally, last night, we were.

I first really learned about Harvey Milk when I was a senior in high school. My high school football coach was also my government teacher. On the football field he was a predictably gruff old bastard, but in the classroom he was dynamic, open-minded and incredibly engaging. One day he showed us a documentary on Milk and Moscone. I remember the classroom being utterly silent for a few minutes after the film ended, until some moron who thought he was being funny said "fags." Coach moved faster than I thought humanly possible, grabbed the kid by the shirt collar and literally dragged him out of the classroom. That's always stuck with me. The documentary, and Coach's response to the same bigotry that contributed to Milk's assassination.

I was pissed when Mickey Rourke didn't win best actor last year. His turn in the Wrestler was so damn good. But now I get it. Sean Penn was just plain eerie as Milk. I found myself a few times remembering, that's Jeff Spicoli! So yeah, the Academy made the right choice. The movie as a whole was really, really good. Great supporting cast, great pacing. But without Penn in that role it's easily forgettable.

The movie brought back memories of the documentary. Of how emotionally draining I'd found it when I was 17. I was sad and angry back then, for the simple fact that I couldn't comprehend the kind of hatred and bigotry that could poison a person's soul.

Last night I was once again sad and angry. But this time it wasn't only because of the inhumanity of it. It was a sober reminder of the vast amount of citizens of this country who would piss all over our Declaration of Independence. And not just in the late 70s, but today. Last year -- 30 years after the California battle over Prop 6 -- was deja vu all over again with Prop 8, only this time the bigots won.

If you would not afford a fellow citizen of these United States the same exact freedoms and liberties that you would expect for yourself, simply on the basis of that person's skin color, religion or sexual orientation, you are not worthy of those freedoms that our forefathers gave you. And if you profess to be a Christian as you fight to restrict the rights of others, you are not worthy of the sacrifice your Christ made for you.

We've made remarkable progress in this country in the past 30 years with regard to government-supported bigotry. Harvey Milk had a lot to do with that progress as it pertains to homosexuals, and activists continue to fight the hatred and discrimination. But then there's Prop 8 and all the other efforts throughout the country to restrict our fellow citizens' rights. The progress we've made isn't nearly enough. We cannot allow the course of this country to continue to be dictated by the anti-American bigots who desire not freedom for all, but religious totalitarianism (though they don't know that because, come on, look at how long the word "totalitarianism" is). A reminder:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Miss me?

2009-09-19T08:49:00.004-06:00

First of all, don't expect me to be writing in this thing daily. But it's been a long, long time since I've written a blog of any sort, and I've kinda been missing it. I was going to start writing in Startling Stories again (the blog I had after I took Boiled Dinner down), but I missed Boiled Dinner. It was more me, I guess. So I'm back here. Plus I think I can tie this to my Facebook page, so maybe that will be cool.

See you soon.

Startling Stories

2007-08-30T09:15:00.000-06:00

My new blog.

Sorry, one final thought.

2007-08-11T13:40:00.000-06:00

This is what's important.

Turn out the lights. Lock it up.

2007-08-11T08:53:00.000-06:00

It's been a fun ride, friends, but Boiled Dinner is closing its doors.

I've recently watched a number of folks whose blogs I read either hang it up entirely or cut back dramatically, and I selfishly got pissed at them. I enjoyed their stuff; how dare they take that away from me!

But at the same time, I started facing the fact that I just wasn't enjoying it nearly as much as I used to. And that's for no other reason than blog friendships gone bad.

Not mine, so much. I've managed to live my blog life much like my real life -- being a peacekeeper, and a horder of a huge variety of friends.

But friendships between friends of mine went bad, and the fallout from that, and the ramifications of where I comment and who comments at Boiled Dinner, have flushed the enjoyment I used to get from blogging right down the shitter.

This is not an indictment of anyone. I admit, I've been pissed about it, and the last straw was my mom getting chastised for doing a guest post at someone's blog, and someone else coming to her defense, and someone else getting brought into it, and other people... All because PJ did a guest post, and a hell of a great guest post at that. I can't imagine anyone who knows me would be surprised that I'll stand with my mom when I don't agree with her, let alone when she's getting pummeled because of where she decides to do a post. That was complete and utter bullshit, no matter how you spin it.

But over the last couple days I've thought a lot, and corresponded with a few folks, about this stuff. I'm finally looking at it like I should have long ago; like a divorce. I've got some experience in that department, so that frame of reference helped immensely. When you're the outsider in a divorce, you're all of a sudden put in a position of having to choose. One group of friends becomes two separate groups. Or three. Or four. However many it becomes, it's never one again. And you're angry because it shouldn't be that way. You shouldn't lose friends, you aren't the one getting the divorce. So you try to be friends with both, but you know how that goes. It doesn't.

That's what it's been like around here. And to complicate matters, it's not just one divorce. It's a few. And yet, since I've not been the center of any of it, I've been resentful that when I start hopping around my regular blog check, I have to think, should I comment here? Will I piss off so-and-so if I comment here? It's like walking into a bar with one group of post-divorce friends and seeing the other group. Can I say hi? Can I go have a beer with them? Can I be friends with all of them?

Nope. I may have thought so at one time, but my inner Pollyanna on this topic is dead.

People have been avoiding my blog, not because of me, but because of other people who visit my blog. I've been delinked from blogrolls, not because of what I said, but because of what I didn't say, or what other blogrolls I'm on or other blogs I comment at.

Again, not laying blame or pointing fingers at anyone. Divorce is messy, no two ways about it. When you're caught in the crossfire, you get hit. A bunch.

So I'm doing the only thing that makes sense for me. I'm closing the doors on my blog. I'll still lurk around, popping up here and there in comments a la Teacake, the blogger formerly known as Nobody. And I'll definitely continue to contribute to Film Freaks, which is a way-cool haven for positivity and a shared passion for movies. Someday, perhaps, I'll do as Paula did and start blogging again from scratch. But this will be the last post on Boiled Dinner.

Before I close the doors for good, I want to thank the following for their contributions to this blog, whether major or minor, over the past three years:

Archer, Arleen, Asbestos Dust, Babs, Becky, Brad, Cheezy, DangerDoll, David, Dawn, Don, Eden, Emma, Fez, Fringe, Gekko, Heath, HumanityCritic, Jackson, Jane, Jen, Jenna, JennyJinx, Jodi, Joe the Troll, Keera, Kim, Krissy, LawWench, Looney, Lucy, Mamma, Mark, Nat, Nikki, Ole Blue, O'Tim, Paticus, Paula, PJ, Ravenous, Rob, Roy, Ruth, Sal, Schadenfreude, Social Worker, Sour Grapes, Throckey, Venessa, Wiggy, and Zen.

Because of these people, I've had some incredibly thought-provoking conversations here. As well as some hilarious ones. You may not all like each other, and I may not like all of each of you, but I love some of all of you, and all of many of you. If you get my meaning.

I would like to especially thank everyone who participated in Movie Madness. That was a riot. Look for it again next year at Film Freaks.

I would also like to point out that this post got the most comments of any post on Boiled Dinner -- 74.

Okay, enough stalling. Time to turn out the lights, close the door, lock it, and head out.

Peace, everyone.

See you somewhere else.

ADDENDUM: I just wanted to clarify that this decision was NOT the result of any one event, person or situation. It's a culmination of many things spanning many months. So please, the last thing I want to see is people pointing the finger and blaming others. Also, I really appreciate all the kind words in the comments. I'm pretty overwhelmed, to be honest. One thing: I'm a writer, and an comedian, and an attention hound. What better place to get a fix for those three addictions than a blog? I'll be back.

All This Because He Wanted to Be... a Punter?

2007-08-10T11:17:00.000-06:00

Don't know if any of you heard about this, but last year University of Northern Colorado backup punter Mitch Cozad didn't want to be the backup punter. He wanted to be the starter. Problem was, he wasn't good enough. Rafael Mendoza was better, so he was the starter.

For most college athletes, that would be motivation to work harder. Get better. Try to beat out the starter and earn the spot.

Or, you could just stab the guy in the leg. Which is what Cozad apparently did.

The trial just concluded and Cozad was found guilty of second-degree assault.

He'd had an alibi -- his then, now ex-, girlfriend. Bummer for him that she got a conscience 15 minutes after lying for him and told the truth: Cozad had left for a while in the middle of the night.

The prosecution actually brought two charges against Cozad: second-degree assault and first-degree attempted murder. I don't get the second charge, of which the jury found Cozad not guilty. Mendoza was stabbed in the leg (I think it was actually the ass cheek), then the attacker ran off. Would prosecution bring a charge like this in hopes of getting the defendant to cop a plea? Can any of you smart law folks out there enlighten me?

Anyway, Mendoza's back punting for the team and Cozad's going to jail.

Where I suspect he'll be turned into a wide receiver.

Back.

2007-08-08T18:36:00.000-06:00

Dad/kid camping trip Saturday night: Rained Out.

Now before you pseudo-psycho "I drink my own pee when I camp" outdoorsmen get all fuckity with me, understand that we six dads had 16 boys and girls ranging from age 5 to age 13, and it rained so hard that all of the paths turned into rivers flowing directly into the tents. Everything and everyone was soaked, inside and out. So the decision to pack it in was a pretty easy one to make, because while "sticking it out" might sound fun and adventurous in spirit, dealing with cold, wet, miserable children all night when you could have avoided it is just plain stupid.

As one of the other dads and I were on breakfast duty, we did have everyone over to my house in the morning for the breakfast burritos we were planning to make in the mountains. We even cooked all the stuff outside with our camping gear, just to get in the spirit. Yep. That's the guys we are.

Then went back into the mountains with the family for a vacation, except that I only got to go for one day because I had to drive back down Monday and hop on a plane to Cincinnati for a work thing. Family stayed in the mountains until today. Work thing went well, but yeah, I'd have rather stayed on vacation.

Okay, I better get going. I just knew you were missing me, so I thought I'd drop you a quick line to let you know I'm back.

Lates, peeps.

2007-08-03T10:10:00.000-06:00

Got a Dad/Kid campin' trip, then to the mountains with the extended family, then to Cincinnati for a big work presentation. Back Thursday.

No parties. Lights out by 11.

The Bridge

2007-08-02T11:33:00.000-06:00

I can't even fathom what it was like to be on this thing.

Me and...

2007-07-29T12:40:00.000-06:00

Stop it. Stop talking like that. You are an adult and you sound like a child when you say "me and..."

It's never me and... NEVER.

It's either _________ and I, or _______ and me.

If you say "Alicia and I" and you should have said "Alicia and me," I'll forgive that. You should certainly take it upon yourself to know when to say "I" and when to say "me," (the cheat is to drop all other people from the sentence but you, and then say it and see which one you need) but you're not completely embarrassing yourself.

When you say, "Me and Alicia were going to work on that," that's embarrassing.

No matter how talented and how intelligent you are, you're going to have a major blockade in front of you until you correct that shit. I'm never going to put you in an important client presentation, because I don't want them to think we have little kids working on their account.

Oh, on a related topic, all those "likes" you put in every sentence? Unless you want me to keep treating you as a sixth grader, cut that shit out too.

ADDENDUM: Some residents of Smartassia have left comments referencing the "me and..." structure used in song lyrics, such as "Me and My Shadow," "Me and Bobby McGee," and "Me and You and a Dog Named Boo." Obviously I was talking about everyday speaking, particularly within a business setting, but I tell you what: If you can sing like Janis, you get a pass on my "me and" rant. Of course, only when you're singing. And rhyming.

ADDENDUM 2: Just listened to "Me and You and a Dog Named Boo" for the first time in decades. That's a horrible song, Jodi. Almost makes me revoke my Janis pass. Fucking Kent Lavoie.

I'm brave, daring, just and loyal.

2007-07-25T12:29:00.000-06:00

I'm mindbogglingly busy at work lately, so no time for my usual brilliance. I did, however, swipe this from Eden.

Your Score: Gryffinpuff!

You scored 28% Slytherin, 12% Ravenclaw, 48% Gryffindor, and 44% Hufflepuff!

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart.

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal

These patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil.

In this instance, it would be prudent for you to make your own decision between the two! After all, as wise Albus Dumbledore says, "It is our choices . . . that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Link: The Sorting Hat Test written by leeannslytherin on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Greenvenience

2007-07-23T09:03:00.000-06:00

I'm typically not a jargon or buzzword guy. Matter of fact, I typically go out of my way to not use them at all. But something about this word I really like.

Greenvenience.

It perfectly describes the parameters people put on their willingness to act in a "green" manner.

Recycling has become, at least in larger cities, incredibly convenient. Here in Denver we have big purple trash cans on wheels. We put all our recyclables in that big, wheel it out to the curb with the trash every other week, and the city picks it up. No sorting whatsoever. Due to the incredibly high level of greenvenience, recycling has gone up 40% in our city since they initiated the big purple bins.

For the majority of Americans, that's the level of greenvenience they need to make it worth their while. The more involved I have to get, the more it's going to slow me down, the less likely I am to do it.

So how about you? What's your greenvenient threshhold?

Are you like Asbestos Dust, who dumps the old motor oil from his 1972 Ford 3/4-ton into the wetlands behind his house? Or are you like Venessa, who uses Aster leaves for toilet paper?

Do you use paper towels, or do you clean with sponges and rags?

Do you recycle every single thing you can, including all forms of paper, or do you sometimes throw things in the trash because it's just easier?

Do you buy milk and juice and other beverages in recyclable containers only, or do you buy them in non-recyclable wax-coated paper cartons, maybe because of price or maybe because of brand preference?

Do you carpool?

Do you drive to lunch?

Do you use compact fluorescent bulbs at home, or do you prefer regular bulbs because you don't like the color that comes from compact fluorescent?

Do you make sure bottles and cans always get put in recycling, or do you toss them in the trash if that's what's closest and easiest?

What else?

In the spirit of full disclosure, I've done every single one of the "non-green" things listed above. Well, except the oil thing.

I had a 1984 Ford Bronco.

All Your Bottles Are Belong to Earth

2007-07-20T08:47:00.000-06:00

Are you a bottled water drinker? Some food for thought:

The picture above, found at whatisleft.org and created by David Coale of Acterra, is a representation of the amount of oil required to ship a bottle of water from its source to the Bay Area of California.

Roughly 1.5 million tons of plastic are expended in the bottling of 89 billion liters of water each year.*

The United States is the world’s leading consumer of bottled water, with Americans drinking 26 billion liters in 2004, or approximately one 8-ounce glass per person every day.** This in spite of the fact that the U.S. has some of the world's safest tap water.

The most commonly used plastic for making water bottles is polyethylene terephthalate (PET), which is derived from crude oil. Making bottles to meet Americans’ demand for bottled water requires more than 1.5 million barrels of oil annually, enough to fuel some 100,000 U.S. cars for a year. Worldwide, some 2.7 million tons of plastic are used to bottle water each year.**

According to the Container Recycling Institute, 86 percent of plastic water bottles used in the United States become garbage or litter. Incinerating used bottles produces toxic byproducts such as chlorine gas and ash containing heavy metals. Buried water bottles can take up to 1,000 years to biodegrade. Almost 40 percent of the PET bottles that were deposited for recycling in the United States in 2004 were actually exported, sometimes to as far away as China—adding to the resources used by this product.**

We're moving 1 billion bottles of water around a week in ships, trains, and trucks in the United States alone. That's a weekly convoy equivalent to 37,800 18-wheelers delivering water. (Water weighs 81/3 pounds a gallon. It's so heavy you can't fill an 18-wheeler with bottled water--you have to leave empty space.)***

In Fiji, a state-of-the-art factory spins out more than a million bottles a day of the hippest bottled water on the U.S. market today, while more than half the people in Fiji do not have safe, reliable drinking water.***

Bottled water is much less regulated than tap water. As a matter of fact, most bottled water is tap water. Some has been filtered for purity, some has simply had minerals added for taste, and others are straight from the tap.

Bottled water companies are not required to reveal their filtration and/or purification processes on the label. So you simply don't know what's in that water. And just because it says "Spring Water" doesn't mean it's clean spring water.

Ounce for ounce, bottled water costs more than gasoline. Depending on the brand, it costs 250 to 10,000 times more than tap water.****

If you bought and drank a bottle of Evian, which costs about $1.35, you could refill that bottle once a day for 10 years, 5 months, and 21 days with tap water before that water would cost $1.35.***

About eight months ago we put faucet-mounted filtration systems in our kitchen, and upstairs near the bedrooms. The systems cost about $30 each. We replace the filters, which cost about $10 each, every two to three months downstairs and every three to four months upstairs.

We've saved a shitload of money. We now have filtered water for everything we consume -- not just drinking, but cooking too. We're not lugging cased of bottled water from the store anymore. Our house isn't cluttered with plastic bottled anymore. And we're no longer contributing to all the waste and pollution caused by the bottles.

*According to a 2001 report of the World Wide Fund for Nature.
**From the article "Bottled Water: Pouring Resources Down the Drain," published by the Earth Policy Institute.
***From the Fast Company article "Message in a Bottle".
****From the NYT article "Bad to the Last Drop," by Tom Standage.

Wanted: Democrats With Balls

2007-07-18T10:50:00.001-06:00

Okay, at the risk of getting the ire up of some of my more right-leaning friends, nothing would make me happier than to have those yella Democrats in Congress actually grow spines and bring articles of impeachment against Bush. And then Cheney.

It is mindboggling to me that we as a nation sat through the impeachment of Bill Clinton for lying to Congress about... wait for it... S-E-X... and this Congress won't impeach Bush and Cheney.

In the book Articles of Impeachment Against George W. Bush, the Center for Constitutional Rights set out legal arguments for impeachment on four separate charges that could be brought against this administration with abundant evidence (note that the book was published before the whole Valerie Plame incident):

1. Warrantless surveillance.
2. Misleading Congress on the reasons for the Iraq war.
3. Violating laws against torture.
4. Subverting the Constitution’s separation of powers.

Who cares if the Senate wouldn't vote to convict? They didn't vote to convict Clinton, either, but that Congress had to "send a message." If ever a White House needed a message, it's this one. Not that I'd expect them to get the message, but at least American public would be sent the message that the Rule of Law is greater than this or any other administration.

I'll never forget Bush, after accepting the Republican nomination about seven years ago, saying that he would bring honor and integrity back to the White House.

Um, yeah, you failed, W. You seriously, pitifully failed.

You know, the thing that bugged me the most about Clinton was the guy's arrogance. He truly believed himself to be greater than the office he held, to be above reproach, and to be exempt from accountability.

Multiply each of those things by 1,000 and you've got Bush and Cheney. Nixon was a fucking choirboy compared to these two. And yet no one has the stones to give them the bitch-slapping they deserve.

Making the all those big-talking Democrats controlling the legislature up there no better than the Right they keep criticizing.

*Dumbfuck Mountain poster found through a Google search that led me here.

Greetings

2007-07-16T10:36:00.000-06:00

If I may be allowed a Grumpy Old Man moment, there are too many damn greeting options these days. I work in a building with about 500 people, and every time I walk down the hallway I have a panic attack because I know I'm going to pass five to 10 people and I'm going to have to greet each of them. That would be fine if there was one standard greeting:

"Hello."

That would be super simple. Even something a little more involved, but consistent, would be cool by me:

"Good day to you, sir or ma'am."

Spanish speakers have it super easy: "Hola." Sure, they may get more formal with the Buenos días/Buenas tardes/Buenas noches triple threat, but those are easy because they depend on the time of day.

But not here. No, we English speakers are drowning in greeting options, from the verbal to the physical gesture.

Hey. How's it going? What's up? S'up? How you doin'? Yo. Dude. Mornin'. Cool shirt. Wave. Point. Smile. Head-up nod. Head-down nod. Wink. Look away. Handshake. High five. Knuckle tap. Say their name. Say their nickname. Make up a nickname. Say an obscure reference to something silly they said or did in a meeting once.

Don't get me wrong, I like variety as much as the next guy, but things have gotten out of hand. Just today I strained the muscles in my neck when I got caught between a head-up nod and a head-down nod. I've had it.

From now on, I'm just gonna say, "Didn't do it," and keep walking.

Let them figure it out.

I Peed for 92 Seconds

2007-07-11T09:29:00.000-06:00

Yesterday afternoon I had a meeting with the Big Boss. My review with my immediate supervisor had gone extremely well last week, so I thought it would be a good idea to get some face time with the BB.

While walking to his office, I realized I was in that purgatorial moment where you kinda have to pee, but not bad enough yet to bother you. Were I sitting at my desk, I'd not get up and go yet. Were I walking directly past the restroom without needing to be somewhere within the next minute, I'd go in. In this instance, however, I was in neither position. I was on my way to the BB's office, and would be right on time without any delays.

"It's only a half an hour," I thought to myself. "It won't get too bad."

Fifteen minutes into the meeting I realized I'd made a mistake. A really big mistake. My water bottle is a cool old canteen that holds about one liter, and I was on my third canteen since 1:00 (it was now 3:20). The meeting was going really, really well, with the topic of my eventual promotion being the focus, so I couldn't very well cut it short and say, "Thanks, BB, gotta pee!"

I stole a glance at the clock on his wall. Only 10 more minutes, I thought. I can do this.

Forty minutes later the BB looked at the clock and said, "Wow, the time flew. I gotta pee."

After sitting there for 45 minutes, sweating, cringing, crippled from the pain, I stood up, managed a smile, and said, "Thanks BB. Me too." He led and I followed, hobbling along with the familiar I've-had-to-pee-for-an-hour stride.

Once in the men's room, he took the left urinal and I took the right, leaving the center urinal vacant, as guys do. The relief was more than I could bear. I started to cry.

Yes, I literally had tears in my eyes. When the BB finished, flushed and went to wash his hands, I was merely a third of the way finished. I stood there, tears rolling down my cheeks, counting off seconds. Sixty-five. Sixty-six. Sixty-seven.

"Talk to you later, Jeff," the BB said as he walked out.

A choked "yep" is all I managed in reply. Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight.

After a full 92 seconds, I was finished. A minute and a half of peeing. While washing my hands, I looked at my face in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and wet. My face was flushed. I started laughing at myself. While walking out, a co-worker walked in and saw me.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "That was just really awesome."

8 Things

2007-07-10T10:23:00.001-06:00

I got tagged a while back for this 8 Things thing and am finally getting around to it. In a nutshell, I'm supposed to list 8 things you don't know about me, then tag 8 people to do it. It's much like the Friday Confessions I do every so often, but this is just 8. I'm just going to write it and say, if you wanna do it, do it!

1. I ran through a sliding glass door when I was seven years old, and have massive scars on my left leg (as well as a few random ones elsewhere on my body) to show for it.

2. I started wearing glasses in 7th grade. Started wearing contacts in 10th grade. Stopped wearing them both in 2001 (got Lasik!).

3. I drink lots and lots of water while at work -- probably somewhere around three liters.

4. I own every album (real vinyl album) KISS ever put out -- when they were wearing make-up. Yes, that includes the solo albums.

5. I'm in a Furniture Row commercial that's running right now. If you see a guy in a blue cap, khakis and a red Hawaiian shirt say, "Sometimes you gotta go forth and save," that's me. I didn't write it. I just got paid to be in it.

6. I love food. All of it. I am the least picky eater ever created. Gimme food and I'll love it. Except for anything made from avocado, including guac. Even then, it makes me sad that I don't like avocado so I try it at least once a year. Because I love food.

7. I can't sleep without some sort of white noise, preferably a fan. The fan soaks up all the random noises that would otherwise keep me awake.

8. I alphabetize things. CDs. DVDs. Books. I shoulda been a librarian.

Wrong Number for the New Millennium

2007-07-09T11:22:00.000-06:00

Anyone getting wrong-number texts these days? I've gotten a fair amount. It's such an interesting phenomenon. Back when we used to actually call and speak to people, we were instantly informed of our mis-dialing.

"Sorry, wrong number."

With texting, however, the sender assumes the text was received by the right person unless you, the unintended recipient, lets the sender know.

You've gone from the immediate and effortless response, "Sorry, wrong number," to a series of choices:

1. Respond via text message.
2. Respond via phone call.
3. Ignore.

Last week, my ten-year-old daughter received a wrong-number text that said, "What? You want to suck my dick when?"

She showed it to Mom, who showed it to me, who was faced with the three choices.

I quickly eliminated #3. Couldn't let it go. So I opted for #2 and called the dude. Oh, I called him after I used the Internets to get his name. He was maybe 15 or 16. I scared the shit out of him, so that was fun.

The other day I got a wrong-number text that was full of entertainment. Here's what it said (written exactly as it appears on my phone):

"Chris hit a shot fir at bat to rite 7 0 us 4th Hes in rite"

Again, I ruled out #3. But this time, I opted for #1. Thought long and hard about it, then replied:

"Tell Chris 2 stop dragging dick Wish I was dere Score more 7 0 not enuf Drink Ovaltine"

I didn't get a response.

Man, I love modern technology

Sad? Angry? Bored? Shoot Someone!

2007-07-06T08:42:00.000-06:00

In one of those ironic life moments you just can't script, I was sitting here with my iPod on shuffle when Johnny Cash's "Hardin Wouldn't Run" came on. What an awesome tune. It starts off with telling a story about John Wesley Hardin losing his money shooting dice in a saloon, then pulling a gun and demanding his money back. As I was enjoying Mr. Cash's sad song, I pulled up the Rocky Mountain News on my 'puter and saw this headline:

Lone gunman opens fire in Vegas casino; 3 wounded

My first thought (well, second thought after, "How ironic") was how amazing it was that no one was killed. What a failure that guy was!

In all seriousness, how exactly did it become fashionable to get a gun and shoot at random people because you're not happy with your life? I just can't fathom it. I can grasp wanting to take out someone who had a direct impact on your life. I can grasp getting so distraught that you decide to take your own life. (though, of course, I neither condone nor recommend either of those things) But I can't for the life of me grasp the desire to take out completely anonymous strangers.

What is it about the world... about the United States... that poisons people so much? Yes, this happens in other places, but nothing like here. It's akin to terrorism, of course, but it's not the same. Terrorists are part of a larger machine; they believe that what they're doing is serving some greater purpose. For all intents and purposes, they've been brainwashed.

These shooters here are loners. There may be a couple working together, like the Columbine kids, but they're not part of anything. They're on the outside looking in. And at some point, their hatred of those on the inside grows so great, their whole view turns red with blood.

And then they start shooting.

Kids. Adults. Upper-class. Middle-class. Lower-class. Educated. Uneducated. Family men. Drifters.

That's a pretty wide range there. About the only constants are that they're men, and they're pissed.

I gotta tell you, while I'm certainly conscious of the threat of terrorism, I'm not nearly as fearful of it directly affecting my life as I am one of these psychopaths opening fire somewhere my family happens to be.

Shit, whether you agree with the policies and methodologies or not, there are at least governments out there trying to keep terrorists from attacking us. There are lots and lots of people studying and planning and counter-planning, all to end the threat of terrorism.

Who's studying and planning and counter-planning to end the threat of the angry fucker with a gun?

Chatterbox

2007-07-03T13:21:00.000-06:00

In the spirit of O'Tim's Monthly Max post, it's time for a gratuitous Sam post. He and I had a very meaningful conversation recently. Luckily, I caught it on tape. And yes, you will LOL. TTFN.

Roo

2007-07-03T09:15:00.000-06:00

In my extensive research for my last post, I discovered a fact that none of you knew, and if you say you did, you're a liar, liar, pants on fire.

The voice of "Roo" in the original Pooh shorts was performed by Clint Howard.

That's Ron Howard's brother, in case you didn't know.

Tigger - The O.G. LOLer

2007-07-02T16:51:00.000-06:00

So I was watching Winnie the Pooh with my little boy, reminiscing about how when I was a little boy I'd collapse into tears whenever Winnie the Pooh ended on TV (back then we didn't have any fancy DVD players, so we had to watch the shows when they came on once a year). Anyway, Tigger comes bouncing on, which makes my boy and I both start giggling, and when he leaves, he says:

"TTFN! Ta ta for now!"

So long before Al Gore's Internets were invented, Tigger was using cute acronyms.* What a debt of gratitude we owe that pouncing bouncing combination of rubber and spring.

TTFN!

*It must be mentioned that Tigger's "TTFN" was not the work of A.A. Milne, but added to the character by the Disney folks when Pooh and friends became moving pictures.

Enough with the heat already.

2007-07-02T11:14:00.000-06:00

After three straight days of it hitting triple digits, we're finally getting a reprieve. Not. Every year I complain about temps in the 90s, and every year I am completely ignored. And for those of you in Arizona or Nevada or some other "It's always hot here" area, DO NOT POST A "YEBBUT" COMMENT! You chose to live on the sun. You are supposed to be hot and miserable all summer long. Not me. When I moved to Denver, it was warm and sunny and perfect, and it rained every afternoon for an hour to cool things off and give the vegetation a drink of water. Now? It's just goddamn hot and dry. We had a wonderfully rainy spring, which filled us all with hope for a summer like the old days. Then, a couple weeks ago, hope took a donkey punch to the back of the head.

What's Porn Got to Do With It?

2007-06-29T10:41:00.000-06:00

UPDATES AT BOTTOM OF POST.

A fascinating case of stolen property turned to tragedy here in Denver recently, resulting in lots of finger-pointing, speculation and armchair psychiatry.

Former Denver City Attorney Larry Manzanares resigned his short-lived post back in February amidst allegations that he'd stolen a laptop from the State Court Administrator's Office. He admitted that he'd bought the laptop from a dude in a parking lot, but said he didn't know it was stolen.

He was later charged with felony theft, embezzlement of public property, tampering with physical evidence, official misconduct and computer crime -- charges that carry penalties of up to six years in prison.

The big story, however, was that the computer had a "massive porn stash" on it.

Please note once again that none of the filed charges had anything to do with pornography.

So it was off to the races for the media -- the story wasn't that the city attorney bought a stolen computer. It was that the city attorney had porn on it.

Larry Manzanares shot himself in the head on June 22.

To date, nothing has come out stating that any of the porn was illegal porn -- no child pornography, no snuff films, etc. If that comes out, it sheds an entirely new light on the story. But from what's been reported, that's not the case.

The guy just liked porn. As lots of guys do.

Did the media's and the DA's handling of the porn aspect lead to Manzanares' suicide? I'm sure it did.

I'm not absolving the guy of his real crime, which was buying a computer from a dude in a parking lot (or, possibly, actually stealing the computer from the State).

But I don't for a minute believe that the porn was important to this case. All it did was serve to vilify the man.

And that vilification ended up costing him his life.

UPDATES: Here is a letter from the District Attorney who was assigned to this case. It explains much of how and why certain things were done and said. In one paragraph he addresses the issue of the pornography. As of yet, absolutely nothing has given any indication that there was any illegal material on the computer. And here is a story from yesterday's Denver Post, speaking to the family of Manzanares. It explains the history of depression in his family, and their speculation as to why he did it. Again, no mention of illegal material. The media ran with one tiny fraction of this story -- the most embarrassing one.

Bumper Sticker Bitchin'

2007-06-27T11:22:00.000-06:00

I'm not much of a bumper sticker guy. That's mostly because the vast majority of bumper stickers either fall into the "Who cares?", the "That's stupid" or the "That type's way too small for me to read while I'm driving" camp. On the rare occasion that I see a clever bumper sticker, I think, that's clever. Then I go back to paying attention to the road, because the "I was reading a bumper sticker" defense doesn't work with the poh-lice.

Yesterday, while driving home from work, I saw one on the back of a car that made me think.

"FUCK WAR"

No, it didn't make me think about war, or about my stance on war, or about whether I wanted to fuck war or not.

It made me think about how I felt seeing that on the back of a car. Whether I thought it was an appropriate place for something with the word "FUCK" so prominently displayed. I spent the rest of my drive in a battle with myself.

The parent me thought, I appreciate the sentiment, but I'd really rather you showed some class and considered the amount of children who will see that on a daily basis. George Bush isn't going to see it. Sure, some of the pro-war crowd will see it, and look into your Jetta and see you, edgy 20-something girl with a cigarette, and think, fuck you, slacker, and then continue to be pro-war. But a lot of kids are going to see it, too. Little kids. So show some class.

The rebellious me, however, thought, if that's the way you feel, tell everyone. Seeing the word "fuck" isn't going to traumatize a child. It might actually spark a conversation between parent and child. A healthy conversation about language and freedom of speech and individuality.

I'm still being pulled in both directions.

How do you feel about it?

Killing Internet Radio

2007-06-26T12:04:00.000-06:00

If you ever listen to any sort of streaming radio on the Internet -- including one of my favorite sites, Pandora -- please take a moment and go to this site:

Save Net Radio

In a nutshell, the Recording Industry Association of America convinced the Copyright Royalty Board (CRB), which oversees sound recording royalties paid by Internet radio services, to increase those royalty fees between 300 and 1,200 percent.

Not only that, but the fees are retroactive for 18 months.

The vast majority of Internet radio services will obviously not be able to absorb this sort of cost. So they'll go away.

This isn't piracy. These Internet stations have been adhering to the law and paying licensing fees. But the RIAA wants them out of business. And if this sticks, it'll succeed.

Reality Check

2007-06-25T09:45:00.000-06:00

I just found out that the blogger NYC Watchdog lost his five-year-old son to a swimming accident recently.

This is real life. Real loss.

It's so easy to get caught up in the surreal life of the internet. To keep everything and everyone at digital distance. To view people as nothing more than words on a screen.

It's easy to tease. To ridicule. To taunt. To offend. To push. To troll. To scream. To threaten.

It's easy to not give a shit.

Ironically, last year I got caught up in a "blog war" that started with a conversation about pit bulls and ended up traveling from blog to blog, commenter to commenter, insult to insult. NYC Watchdog was one of those who was pulled into the whole mess. He was just another grouping of words on a screen, just like everyone else.

Not now.

Suddenly, he's a father being ripped apart from the inside by losing what was most important in his life. He lost his child. His son. His best friend.

I can't even begin to imagine what he's going through. But I do know that right now, I don't want to be at work. I want to be at home with my kids.

There's a fund that's been set up to help NYCWD. Click the icon above (in my sidebar as well) for details.

Peace, everyone.

First Henry and June, now Boiled Dinner!

2007-06-25T08:58:00.000-06:00

Because of these words:
Suck (5x)
Shit (4x)
Ass (2x)
Shitty (1x)

"Fuck" didn't register?

Swiped from Sour Grapes.

I just saved a boatload of money switching to...

2007-06-22T12:02:00.000-06:00

AAA.

I checked Geico, but the lizard was more than what we were paying. AAA, however, just came in $700 cheaper per year for our auto insurance. $700! That's worth switching for. It did make me wonder, though, what the hell goes into determining insurance rates? I mean, our former company and AAA figured our rates based on the same exact criteria, and AAA came in $700 cheaper for the year. The AAA agent told me that in Colorado, they pretty much beat anyone's rates. I don't get it. Don't get me wrong; I'm ecstatic that we'll now have an extra $700 to spend on my daughters' shoes. It's just a reminder that A) when you can shop around, you should, and you should never assume you're getting the best deal, and B) when you can't shop around -- like for utilities or health insurance (if supplied by your employer) or auto registrations or sales tax rates -- it's a real pisser.

Big-vehicle driving douchebags.

2007-06-21T08:41:00.000-06:00

Okay. Look. I know you got a big-ass Superduty. I can see it. I can hear it. A full mile away from you, I can fucking see and hear it. I concede that you are King of the Road, Roger Miller. You and all your other Warning-Testosterone-Levels-At-Critical-Mass brothers out there own the road. You proved your point. So now, maybe, just maybe, how about you

GET
OFF
MY
ASS.

First of all, it doesn't matter how slow I'm driving, or in what lane I'm driving. You getting your big shiny chrome bumper two inches from my tailgate is GOING TO GET SOMEONE KILLED.

Let me state right here in this public forum that if it were guaranteed that you would be the only one you killed, I would pull into the left lane, drive 45 and put a big sign in my back window that says, "Please Tailgate Me!" I would root for your death.

The problem is, you and your brothers are never the ones who die. No, you just kill other people. People who, you know, like to drive the speed limit and obey traffic laws. People with kids in the car. Elderly people. My wife. My mom. Me.

Back. The. Fuck. Off.

If you want to go open up your Hemi and see what she's got under that hood of hers, get out to a clear, open stretch of road somewhere and let her rip. When I've got clear highway in front of me, baby I let it fly. Okay, I did before I got this, but that's a whole nother story.

But dude, you're in rush hour traffic. You got up late, you left late, now you're late because of YOU, not ME, so take a deep breath and give a little space there in front of you. Hey, here's a thought: smoke a bowl. Then you'll drive 10 under and leave 12 car lengths between you and the next car.

Oh, and ladies in big SUVs? WTF? Why are you acting like men with small dicks? Are you a man with a small dick? If so, well, read above and apply to you. If not, um, read above and apply to you. 'Cause while the majority of the douchebags about whom I'm speaking are male, that ratio is disturbingly increasing on the female side.

Don't act like a dude. That's just plain gross.

Gadgets are just too cool.

2007-06-21T08:39:00.000-06:00

My buddy just got a new digital camera. It's a little Canon point-and-shoot, 7.1 megapixels, blahbedy blahbedy blah. Anyway, it has this feature where you can select one color, then take the shot, and this is what it does:
Now the camera is doing what you used to have to spend hours learning Photoshop to do.

I know. I know I'm a geek. But damn, I love this shit.

Now I gotta get one...

I'm a Swingin' Guy

2007-06-20T09:07:00.000-06:00

I played 18 holes yesterday afternoon with my boss, and his boss, and another boss. It was a really great time. Well, other than the golfing part.

I SUCK.

I golf maybe once or twice a year, and it's typically some organized best-ball scramble event where lots of beers are consumed and lots of laughter is generated. And, because I'll typically have one good shot per hole, I'm a decent member of a best-ball foursome.

But playing 18 holes in a foursome and playing my own ball the whole time?

I SUCK.

The other three guys were bumming when they double-bogeyed a hole. The couple double-bogeys I had were miraculous. I even bogeyed one par-3, though a real golfer would have parred it with the drive and chip to within four feet of the hole I had. But no, those were anomalies. My drives were flying... to the left and to the right. After almost every drive (and I always hit last), I'd hear the same thing from the guys standing behind me.

"Whoa."

"Where'd it go?" I'd ask.

"To the right."

"How far?"

"You'll probably want to drop."

I SUCK.

But, lucky for me, the other guys weren't typical uptight golfers and we still had some fun. Plus, no one is going to laugh at me harder than me.

The best part of the day, however, was when one of the course monitors was sitting in his cart watching us, waiting to tell us we needed to move things along, and I had a 110-yard chip that landed about 3 feet from the hole. As I was walking to the hole, he said, "Nice putt," then asked us to pick up the pace a bit. Then he drove off.

And I three-putted.

I SUCK.

I'm Ambidextrous!

2007-06-19T10:29:00.000-06:00

I did a this some time ago (or one much like it), and the results this time around are pretty similar. Explains a lot about me. Particularly why I'm not a fan of sweeping generalizations about the Left or the Right.

Your Political Profile:

Overall: 45% Conservative, 55% Liberal

Social Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal

Personal Responsibility: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

Fiscal Issues: 100% Conservative, 0% Liberal

Ethics: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

Defense and Crime: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal

How Liberal Or Conservative Are You?

We Have Become...

2007-06-18T14:11:00.001-06:00

Minivan people. My wife disagrees -- she says we're now people with a minivan, but not minivan people. I say, what's the difference? We traded in the big, gas-guzzling Explorer for a fancy new dark blue '07 Toyota Sienna with rear side doors that open with the push of a button on the key remote, a DVD player in the back for the kidlets, tons and tons of space, a JBL surround-sound stereo system, and -- get this, Paula -- a jack to plug an iPod directly into the stereo. Oh, and about 25 mpg (vs. the 12 we were getting with the Explorer).

We now have a station wagon and and minivan.

We've arrived!

Accentuate the Positive

2007-06-18T09:59:00.000-06:00

That's what I'm going to be doing, and looking for, here in Blogovia. That's not to say that I'll never post about, nor comment on, topics of the "What the hell's this all about?" variety. But I'm through getting mired in comment wars. That's not an indictment of anyone other than myself. I've just got much better things to do with my time than following, let alone participating in, the antagonism that surfaces in the comments of some of the blogs I read.

In the real world, I rarely get the kinds of opportunities to hear multiple points of view that I do here in Blogovia. That's what I love about it. I love debate. When it's done with respect, I often learn things. Sometimes it's just learning a new perspective, other times it's learning new facts and developments. And because of that, sometimes my perspective changes. I never understand why so many people are so adverse to changing perspective, because when I do, it feels really good. It's a major accomplishment. Maintaining your position in the face of opposing points of view can often be admirable, proper and even necessary. But it's also pretty easy. Truly listening to and considering an opposing point of view is a phenomenal skill; allowing yourself to admit that the opposing point of view carries more weight than yours takes guts. I appreciate that. And no, I'm not talking about politicians who change their "beliefs" as the tide of public opinion changes. I'm talking about the individual, and what's in the individual's heart.

The problem is that many times, debates in Blogovia are anything but respectful. And once they digress to insults, name-calling and the equivalent of middle-school playground pushing and shoving, I'm no longer going to learn anything. All opportunity for me to get what I want from the conversation -- healthy debate, even enlightenment -- is gone down the shitter. I'm not above reproach; I've gotten wrapped up in some of that shit, only to look at it later and think, why the hell did I waste my time with that trainwreck? I will give myself some credit and say I always try to keep it respectful, even when other participants are not. But even then, my comments are still enabling those creating the cesspool.

I've done a pretty good job of keeping things here at Boiled Dinner relatively civil. But I can't control what happens at other blogs, nor can I control what other people do or say. I can only control Jeff K. And Jeff K just ain't gonna play in the shitbox anymore.

Jeff K also ain't gonna keep referring to himself in the third person, but at the moment, Jeff K feels it's the most powerful way to get his message across.

Charity

2007-06-15T11:43:00.000-06:00

A lot's being made of Michael Moore's supposed anonymous donation of $12,000 to the guy who runs Moorewatch.com (a very anti-Moore website), Jim Kenefick to aid in his wife's medical bills. Of course, the anti-Moore crowd are taking him to task, calling it nothing more than a publicity move coinciding with the release of his latest film, Sicko. And that's exactly what it was. You can read the story directly from Kenefick here.

Whether Moore got publicity from it or not, my question is, who cares? Is a good deed only worthy if it's done with complete anonymity? Was Warren Buffet's massive donation to the Gates Foundation a big crock of shit because he held a press conference to announce the move? Of course not. Even Kenefick admits that at the end of the post I linked to above. Moore helped the guy. I'm sure Moore, who'd been working on Sicko for quite some time, saw Kenefick's predicament and though, wow, the guy who hates me is in a situation that completely illustrates the point of my movie. That's ironic.

Then Moore cut the guy a check for $12,000.

That's pretty damn generous. Publicity or not. If you found out someone who was constantly badmouthing you on the Internet was in financial need, would you send him/her a check?

I seriously doubt it. I'm not sure I would.

Best of the Best

2007-06-14T14:28:00.000-06:00

TV ads from around the world vying for awards at Cannes this year.

Cannes Predictions 2007

I haven't watched them all yet, but so far the Altoids Sours "Fruit Pants" takes the case for the weirdest of them all.

Attention All Yous Newsreader Users

2007-06-14T11:49:00.000-06:00

You may have noticed a proliferation of my past posts popping up in your reader. My apologies. Having switched over to Blogger comments a while back, I'm now periodically reposting past posts with links to the Haloscan comments for said posts. I am doing this solely for my own enjoyment, and I apologize that you must come along for this ride.

13 Thursday 13s

2007-06-14T08:50:00.000-06:00

In the ultimate cop-out move, I am listing my 13 favorite Thursday 13s from Boiled Dinner's illustrious history. So sue me!

13. 13 Mythical Beasts

12. 13 Things People Frequently Say or Write that Annoy the Crap out of Me

11. 13 Favorite Comedy Teams

10. 13 Favorite Sitcoms

9. 13 Things that Make Me Happy

8. 13 Things that Annoy Me About Air Travel

7. 13 Things I Don't Get

6. 13 Words I Love

5. 13 Things about the Holidays that Bug Me

4. 13 Multiple-view Movies

3. 13 of My Super Powers

2. 13 Words (be sure to read the follow-up post too)

1. 13 Blog Sniglets

Blog Wonkiness

2007-06-13T09:04:00.001-06:00

I added a few fun widgets to my sidebar recently, but I think that made Boiled Dinner inaccessible for some of you (Jodie and Lucy, for sure... anyone else?) They were widgets from Widgetbox, so there must be some problem in that code. Anyway, I removed them so hopefully, no more problemos.

Babel

2007-06-11T16:49:00.000-06:00

MINOR SPOILER ALERT (nothing major, more plot-oriented)
Saw it. Didn't like it much. Thought the story was way too disjointed, so much so that I failed to become emotionally involved with any character. Okay, maybe a bit with Amelia the nanny, but not nearly as much as I could have and wanted to be. Way too many messages crammed into it as well. There was the language barrier message (thus the name). The media frenzy message. The "quick to judge" message. The illegal immigrant message. The gun message. The "dealing with grief" message. I'm sure I can come up with a handful more. Morality is fine in a movie, but to me, the movie can't be about morality. It needs to be about the people. Give me some characters I can care about. The entire sequence that took place in Japan was completely unnecessary. The stuff in Morocco and the stuff in Mexico were logically tied together. The time spent in Japan could have been spent exploring the depths of the other characters -- Pitt, Blanchett, the kids, Amelia the nanny and Garcia-Gernal. Instead we got scratches on the surface, that's all. This movie could have been so much more, especially because it featured some stellar acting. Instead I was left dissatisfied and unmoved. Very disappointing.

Chillin' in the pool, Sammy-style.

2007-06-11T15:30:00.001-06:00

Makes you want to be 13 months old again, doesn't it?

Just evil enough...

2007-06-11T10:33:00.001-06:00

You Are 36% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well.
In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

Judge to Paris: Get yo' skinny ass back in da joint.

2007-06-08T14:11:00.001-06:00

Gotta admit, this made me smile.

Maybe our justice system isn't quite as whack as I thought it was.

(you) essays deadline extended

2007-06-08T10:13:00.000-06:00

You should write something for the next issue of (you) essays, and you should get it to me by June 15th.

Raising the Cup

2007-06-07T13:07:00.000-06:00

Yes, this is a sports post. A hockey post, to be precise. But you don't have to be a sports fan, let alone a hockey fan, to appreciate what winning the Stanley Cup means to hockey players.

Hockey is what's called a "niche sport." It doesn't have much of a "casual fan" base to speak of. It has painfully low TV numbers. (I'm talking about here in the States, of course... not in our neighbors' country to the north) It has a rabid core fan base, but compared to the other big three sports it pales in comparison.

And yet Lord Stanley's Cup is widely regarded as the single greatest trophy in all of sports, the world over. First, it's the oldest professional trophy competed for in North America. Second, it has the names of the men who won it engraved it. And third, every player from the winning team gets to take the Cup for a day.

Hockey players don't get gigantic Nike shoe endorsements. They're not plastered all over billboards and TV and magazine ads. Sure, NHL players make good money, but nothing like the money made by players in the other big three sports. They don't play for glory.

They play for the Cup.

Until he wins the right to hoist it over their head, an NHL player won't touch that Cup. Will not touch it, no matter how close to it he gets. It's part superstition, and part deference. I don't want to jinx myself, and besides, I haven't earned the right.

Ask Rob Niedermayer. His brother, Scott, won the damn thing three times with New Jersey. In 2003, big brother Scott's Devils beat little brother Rob's Anaheim Ducks in game 7 of the finals. Rob's brother Scott had the Cup in his possession three times and Rob wouldn't touch it.

Last night, when the final horn blew and Anaheim had beaten Ottawa to win the series, Scott (named MVP of the playoffs) picked up that Cup, raised it over his head, and then handed it to little brother Rob, tears streaming down his face.

Hell, I wanted Ottawa to win and I had tears in my eyes.

But it's always that way. No matter whom I'm rooting for, no matter who's on the winning team, I get chills when I see that Cup being raised. I think to myself, there can't be a more awesome feeling of victory. Of reaching a monumental goal.

As a hockey player myself -- a sorry excuse for a hack of a weekend warrior hockey player -- I daydream of lifting that Cup over my head and skating around the ice.

Of course, given that that'll never happen, if I ever get close to that thing I'm touching the hell out of it.

Uninspirational Thought of the Day

2007-06-07T09:16:00.000-06:00

No matter what you're best at, there are a shitload of people in the world better at it than you.

I'm a Work of Art, New Edition

2007-06-05T15:32:00.000-06:00

El Greco

Boticelli

Modigliani

Manga

Afro-Caribean

West-Asian

Baby

Ape-Man

Drunk

Face Transformer swiped from Sour Grapes.

Sounds I Don't Like

2007-06-05T13:18:00.000-06:00

The squeak of a marker on paper.
An eraser on a chalk board.
Someone brushing their teeth (other than me).
Someone gagging (including me).
Snorting (the sucking-a-loogie-into-your-throat snort, not a laugh snort, which I find charming).
Someone chewing gum with her/his mouth open.
Cats (LOL or otherwise).
Ann Coulter's voice.

Back in the Saddle

2007-06-04T08:46:00.001-06:00

Thanks to everyone for the kind words regarding my Uncle's funeral. PJ wrote up a wonderful synopsis of the proceedings in the comments to the last post, so check that out if you're interested.

While the reason for the occasion may suck, funerals do offer an opportunity to be together as a family. And given that I have one of those huge families where cousins many-times-removed grew up together and aunts and uncles possess the same authority over the kids as parents, there was an abundance of hugs, kisses, laughter and tears. It's something special, and it's always hard to leave.

But it was awfully good to get back home to my wife and kids.

Uncle Ray

2007-05-29T09:22:00.001-06:00

Uncle Ray & Sammy
Originally uploaded by jeffkos

Uncle Ray died early Monday morning. As a veteran of the U.S. Navy, it was befitting that his last moments fell on Memorial Day. He was 68. This photo of him with great-nephew Sammy was taken last October. I feel awfully lucky that Sammy got to meet and laugh with his Uncle Ray on this day, just as I'm awfully lucky that I got to spend 38 years laughing with the man who was not just my Dad's oldest brother, but also my Godfather. Now he and my Dad are back together again. I'm sure they're already staking out their spots to watch tonight's Pistons-Cavs game 4. And my Grandma's yelling at them to get their feet off the coffee table.

Friday Confessions

2007-05-25T08:18:00.000-06:00

I lick the knife after putting peanut butter on my English muffin. When speaking, I rarely finish my... what I mean is... you know what I mean. I don't change my oil often enough. I'm reading The Wizard of Oz for the first time. The older I get, the more lactose intolerant I get. I love milk. And ice cream. I'm a Do-It-Yourselfer. I've thrown a Molotov Cocktail. I was once dared to stack four Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, put them all in my mouth and try to chew and swallow them. I tried. I really, really tried. I couldn't do it, therefore it can't be done. Height: 6'1", Weight: 185 lbs., Hair: Brown, Eyes: Hazel. I miss The Rockford Files. I think the song "You're So Vain" is about me. I like chocolate shakes, but lurrrrrve chocolate malts. I never anticipated how entertaining my son would be. I lick my finger and touch the iron to see if it's hot.

Hey Smoke Break Takers

2007-05-23T13:49:00.000-06:00

Get back to work! Holy shit, a couple 10-minute smoke breaks a day I can deal with, but 10-15 minutes every hour? You are the least productive workers BY FAR. There are a handful of you at my office, and I swear to God, you are standing outside the parking lot door half the work day. And you're not just smoking; no, that would be bad enough, but you go out there with your little cluster of fellow nic fiends and have a damn gossip session. Guess what? PEOPLE ARE TIRED OF PICKING UP YOUR SLACK. If you need that many breaks throughout the day, then you should be considered part-time and paid accordingly. Get back to work, damnit!

Common Ground

2007-05-22T12:17:00.000-06:00

While people from different nations & cultures have many, many differences, I'd also like to point out that we all share many things as well. These things are what bind us together as human beings. When it seems we exist only on opposite sides, think on this list of common ground. Perhaps add your own. It proves we are all brothers and sisters.

If one wishes to paint the walls one color but the trim another, one uses masking tape.

If one inhales pepper, one will sneeze.

If one is walking with a friend, and one's friend trips and falls in a goofy manner without injury, one will laugh, if only on the inside.

If one puts the top down on one's convertible, and it suddenly starts raining, one will either say or think, "Figures," in one's native language.

Stubbing one's pinky toe hurts like a bitch.

If one unexpectedly puts something bad-tasting in one's mouth, one will make a funny face, unless one is trying to be polite to the person who prepared the bad-tasting something, in which case one will still make a funny face, just not the same as the other funny face.

(you) essays

2007-05-21T14:34:00.001-06:00

Time to resurrect an old friend. Sorry it's been so long, but, you know, life 'n' all that.

If you don't know what (you) essays is, click the link and check it out.

I've had some submissions trickle in over the past few months, but I need more.

Many more.

So what are you waiting for? Time to write something for (you) essays.

You got two weeks.

Submissions due June 4th.

Uninspirational Thought of the Day

2007-05-21T08:03:00.000-06:00

Seems like everyone's into inspirational thoughts. They're on screensavers, in email sigs, on calendars, on widgets... I'm so inspired I could puke. So to help balance everything out, I'm going to contribute uninspirational thoughts. And since they're uninspirational, they'll not show up every single day, yet I'll still call them Uninspirational Thought of the Day.

Uninspirational Thought of the Day:

One who does not risk failure, will not fail.

Make Me Laugh

2007-05-18T11:41:00.000-06:00

Come on. It's Friday, it's been a shitty week. Leave me a comment and make me laugh. Don't care how, just do it!

C

2007-05-17T08:02:00.000-06:00

Four and a half years ago, C killed my dad. It was a rare type of thyroid C, and it took about 2-1/2 years from the time we discovered it until the day he died. He was only 51 when he died, and I still struggle with it daily. Try as I might, I just can't put it together in any sort of box that I can stash away. It's open, it's out, and it makes me really angry.

My grandfather -- Dad's Dad -- will be 95 this August. He's the Energizer rabbit. An astonishing man of physical and mental strength, and faith. He's buried five -- yes, 5 -- of his children in his lifetime. Four of them were truly children, and then my Dad in '02. My Dad's death took a lot out of my Grandpa. He slowed down a lot. He still lives on his own in a regular apartment (no nursing home, no assisted living), but he really struggled, particularly mentally. He recently admitted to me that he had been horribly depressed, and finally got help. The last time I talked to him, which was about two weeks ago, he was doing much better. He's still sharp as a tack, my Grandpa. Has a wicked sense of humor, and the stories he can tell -- he was born in 1912, so suffice it to say he's seen a lot. It was great hearing him sounding good, sounding happy.

My Uncle Ray -- Dad's brother -- has had C for a few years. They discovered it right after my Dad died. I'm not quite certain what the origin of his C is, but it's been manageable. Until now. Uncle Ray and his wife of nearly 40 years, Aunt Peg, have been in Florida where he's been undergoing some experimental treatment. We all thought it was working, but I guess not. My cousin called last night to say they're flying back to Michigan today and Hospice is being called in.

It's deja vu all over again. C just doesn't fuck around. C might give you some time, might give you some breaks, but when C wants to, C ends it. And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it. And while C may directly kill one person, C also wounds everyone in the vicinity without ever getting its grips on their bloodstreams. Grandpa had a skin C a number of years ago, but he beat it. Now C may still kill my Grandpa by killing his boys.

Why C has taken such a liking to my family, I'll never know. But I look at my step-mom, and my Aunt Peg, and my Grandpa, and my Uncle Doug, and my Aunt Bert, and my cousins and my mom and all the rest of my family and I say, damn you, C. Why don't you just fuck off and leave us alone?

Just leave us the hell alone.

Random Sports Rant

2007-05-16T08:04:00.000-06:00

Look, I hardly ever post about sports, even though I'm a sports nut, so give me a break. This is my therapy!

[begin sports rant]

David Stern has completely lost what credibility he had with his ruling over the fiasco during the San Antonio/Phoenix game. Suspending the Suns' Stoudamire and Diaw one game for doing nothing more than leaving the bench after the Spurs' Robert Horry sent their teammate (and MVP) Steve Nash flying is complete garbage. Horry gets two games for two separate dirty plays, and Stoudamire and Diaw get one game for... leaving the bench. They didn't get in anyone's face, didn't head-butt anyone, didn't throw a punch. They didn't touch anyone. They left the bench when they saw their all-star point guard shoved into chairs, but stopped well-short of reaching the other team. Now San Antonio loses a reserve player (yes, who can hit a big shot here and there, but come on, he's averaging 4.8 points per game in this series) for two games, and Phoenix loses a first-team all-NBA selection who's averaging 23.5 points and 10.3 rebounds in the series, as well as his backup in Diaw. And this with the series tied 2-2 and going back to Phoenix. Unlike a lot of people, I'm not counting Phoenix out of the next game because Nash is the kind of player who can will a team to victory, but this decision by the league has the potential to dramatically affect the outcome of this series, and that's just plain wrong. Horry tries to hurt a player, and his team ends up with the advantage? That's disgraceful.

The Wings vs. the Ducks. That's pretty funny sounding, if you think about it. Last night, the Wings bitch-slapped the Ducks and made them look like a minor-league club. How does 5-0 sound, Annaheim? Tomas Holmstrom was a monster with two goals, an assist, and 13 stitches after the Ducks' Rob Niedermayer and Chris Pronger cheap-shotted him into the boards. Niedermayer was given a five-minute major and a game misconduct for the hit (Pronger wasn't given any penalty, though he should have at least been given a boarding call). I was sure Holmstrom was done for the night with the way he was lying on the ice, blood running down his face and his eyes glazed over. But when the third period started, there he was back out on the ice causing havok in the Ducks' zone. Some tough dudes out on that ice. Oh, and to the Anaheim fans who cheered when Holmstrom went down and chanted "Ref, you suck" when Niedermayer was kicked out of the game: Fuck you. Learn the difference between a good hit and a bullshit cheap shot.

Hey, Pistons, how about you wake up and realize the Bulls aren't rolling over for you? Getting blown out at home in game 5? You better show the hell up in Chicago. I know no team has ever come back from a 3-0 deficit to win an NBA series, but it was that way in baseball until a certain Sox team punked a certain Yankee team a few years ago.

Tigers are playing good ball. So three of the major Detroit teams are championship caliber. If only the Lions could learn the game of (American) football...

[end sports rant]

Food & Travel -- What's better than that?

2007-05-14T09:14:00.000-06:00

Paula tagged me on this fun food meme. Watch out, Fodor's!

1. Add a direct link to your post below the name of the person who tagged you. Include the city/state and country you're in.

Nicole (Sydney, Australia)
velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)
LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)
Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)
Olivia (London, England)
ML (Utah, USA)
Lotus (Toronto, Canada)
tanabata (Saitama, Japan)
Andi (Dallas [ish], Texas, United States)
Todd (Louisville, Kentucky, United States)
miss kendra (los angeles, california, u.s.a)
Jiggs Casey (Berkeley, CA, USA! USA! USA!)
Tits McGee (New England, USA)
Kat (Ontario, Canada)
Cheezy (London, England)
Paula (Orange County, California, U.S.)
Jeff (Colorado, USA)

2. List out your top 5 favorite places to eat at your location.

City Grille: Carnivore? Best burger, hands down. Used to be we loved it but just couldn't go because it was so damn smokey in there. But ever since they passed the smoking ban (I know, I know, they're infringing on our rights and the rights of business owners and I agree but I gotta admit it's nice to be able to go to our favorite restaurants now!!!!!!) we can go, and we love it. The original is downtown near the Capitol, so it gets a great mix of everyone from politicians to construction workers to CFOs to Dead Heads. They opened another location about 1/2 mile from our house, so we're in heaven.

Strings: Best contemporary Italian. I've only gone a couple times, because it's not a cheap night out, but man, the food is fantastic. The decor is a little dated -- a little too 80s -- but you quickly get over that when you take a bite of their bread.

Sushi Den: Best Japanese. Sushi in Denver? I know, a little odd for such a landlocked state, but our surprisingly high Japanese population has brought the tradition here and we're loving it. Sushi Den gets fresh shipments in every day, so sushi and sashimi lovers can eat and eat and eat. Plus, those looking for something on the cooked side have plenty of options too. But wowy wowy wow, it's deceptively expensive. You just keep marking off on the little sheets, and food keeps coming, and then you get the bill and fall over.

Beau Jo's Best pizza -- but only if you've gone skiing or boarding for the day and then hit the original location in Idaho Springs on the way down from the hill. That's when it tastes like the best pizza ever created. Plus, there's something about the crust. They give you honey, with which you drench the crust, and it's a heavenly dessert.

Le Central: Wonderful (and wonderfully affordable) French restaurant. Sunday brunch is the best time to go, because their Eggs Benedict (and a variety of variations) are scrumdillyumptious.

3. Tag 5 other people (preferably from other countries/states) and let them know they’ve been tagged.

David (Oregon, U.S.)
Jackson (Devon, G.B.)
Gekko (Arizona, U.S.)
Fringe (Texas, U.S.)
Lucy (Somewhere in the U.K.)

Getting Political

2007-05-10T08:18:00.000-06:00

I don't typically delve into politics on my blog. I'll rant and rave about certain issues, but a quick click on my "Politics" label reveals that I've done 17 posts labeled "politics" since I started this blog in '04. And none, until my little 5-line post,Right to Life, abbreviated, was directed at G.W. Bush.

While that post only generated 21 comments (paltry!), it managed to spawn a number of posts and comments on other blogs all rooted in the fact that, to some, mine was a strawman argument.

Well, I've commented at those sites, but since it was my post that started the whole stinking thing (even though it was really Grapes 2.0 who started it), I'm going to bring it on home.

I stand by the point of my post: Bush saying he won't use taxpayer dollars for the destruction of human life is an outright lie. He is with Iraq. Case closed. That point cannot be argued.

Unless, of course, you begin a new argument debating whether abortion and war can be compared. Then you can argue.

But you're not arguing about what I said. You're on a tangent. One that has nothing to do with me, because I didn't compare abortion to war. In order to tie my post to an argument about abortion vs. war, you have to first begin a discussion about what Bush meant. He didn't mean what he said. He didn't say it right. He meant innocent lives. Oh, wait, that doesn't work either. He meant unborn innocent lives. Yeah, that's it. That's what he meant. Strawman!

Sorry, you lose this one. Classic debate structure: Did Bush say he will veto any measures that “allow taxpayer dollars to be used for the destruction of human life"? Yes, check. Has he, in fact, allowed taxpayer dollars to be used for the destruction of human life? Yes, check. Two truths equal true. Game over.

Now, let's say I did get into the tangental debate over whether abortion and war can be compared. Were I to do that, here's what I'd say (and did say, somewhat, over at Law Wench's):

I have about as much respect for pro-lifers who support war as I do for anti-war, tree-hugging pro-choicers. And of the former crowd, I'm particularly curious as to how those who base their pro-life stance in religion (as W does) can somehow justify the concept of collateral damange.

To me the two things absolutely are related. If enlisted U.S. military personnel and terrorists were truly the only ones getting killed, like they were stuck in a big paintball complex with real bullets, this would be a different argument (though still, I don't see an asterisk and disclaimer after Thou Shalt Not Kill). But innocent lives are being lost every single day because of the war. Innocent lives who, to paraphrase Wench, do not volunteer to be killed nor have they brought it on themselves to be killed. How are those innocent lives different from unborn lives? What differentiates them? Birth. That's it. That's the only difference. One group was (un)lucky enough to be born. Those lives are worth every single bit as much as yours, mine, Ws, or anyone else's on the planet, born or unborn. They're related.

Stupid English Language

2007-05-08T12:28:00.000-06:00

Why the hell is "knee" spelled with a "k" but "neck" is not?

God's Away on Business

2007-05-08T08:28:00.000-06:00

When he gets home and sees what a mess we've made of the house, he's going to be really, really pissed.

*Post title borrowed from the estimable Tom Waits

Right to Life, abbreviated

2007-05-04T11:23:00.000-06:00

Saw this at Grapes 2.0 and had to comment here.

From W to Congress, as reported in the New York Times:

He will veto any measures that “allow taxpayer dollars to be used for the destruction of human life.”

So, who's paying for Iraq?

I hate him.

Friday Confessions

2007-05-04T09:41:00.000-06:00

I hate workplace jargon, and go out of my way not to use it. When I was about 13 I once held the stem of a bottle rocket between my teeth, lit the fuse and launched it on a dare. We had a "party line" when I was growing up. Who knows what that is? (PJ, you are disqualified from answering that) I could climb trees like a monkey when I was a boy. Still can, but don't nearly enough. My college car, a 1979 Chevy Monza hatchback (can't believe I found that brochure online, because that's EXACTLY what my car looked like!), had a blown head gasket so it would literally throw oil whenever the car was running, getting on the engine and smoking so badly people would tell me that my car was on fire. It wasn't. I sometimes skip, just to add some variety to my walking routine. I can't stand watching auto racing, yet I have a secret desire to be a racecar driver. I could do it, too, you know. I'm that good. I have a sign in my office that says, "Complaints? Ask for Heywood Jablomy," and for the first time I had someone look at it and ask me who Heywood Jablomy is. I laughed a hearty laugh at that. I still love The Cars' first album, The Cars. I hate gum, and I hate hate hate it when people chew gum with their mouths open. Or chew anything with their mouths open, for that matter. I am irrationally afraid of being buried alive.

1

2007-05-03T10:27:00.000-06:00

Sam, Day 1
Sam, Day 365

Happy birthday, little man.

Daddy loves the hell out of you.

Slow down, you move too fast.

2007-05-01T09:29:00.000-06:00

Got to make the moment(s) last.

The family moments. The work moments. The project moments. The barbecue moments. The hockey moments.

You know, the real-life moments.

The moments I'm not blogging.

Gotta make those last a little more. Which means I gotta cut back on the blogging a bit.

No, I'm not pulling a Nobody/Jen/Teacake and stopping, I'm just slowing, that's all. Maybe a few times per week instead of (nearly) daily.

For those of you who don't care, you can stop reading six lines ago.

*Post title borrowed from Simon and Garfunky

Whiny Conservatives

2007-04-30T14:16:00.000-06:00

A recent post over at Joe's compelled me to tune in Glen Beck the other day, something I hadn't done in quite a while.

Once upon a time I listened to Beck fairly frequently, because unlike other conservative talk radio personalities, he could be funny. As a matter of fact, the promo for his show is, "More comedy, less politics." Problem is, that's no longer the case. Over the past couple years he's pretty much lost every ounce of entertainment value and is now just like every other talk radio dude.

Anyway, something hit me about 10 minutes into listening: Whine, whine, whine, whine, whine. All he was doing was whining about the Democrats. It got me to thinking about other big-time right-wing talkers like Limbaugh, Coulter, Hannity and O'Reilly.

Whine, whine, whine, whine, whine.

What the hell? I though liberals were supposed to be the whiny ones? Whatever happened to the good old "Fuck You and the Donkey You Rode in On" conservatives like this guy? I may not agree with everything they say, but I still respect anyone who can frighten me. When I hear these talk-radio pansies I want to put the gloves on, get them in the ring and see how fast they throw in the towel, crouch in the corner and suck their thumbs.

Don't get me wrong, there are still whiny liberals out there. But they're supposed to whine -- it's what's expected of them, and we know they're whining because they just care so damn much.

But whiny conservatives?

Sack up or STFU.

Friday Confessions

2007-04-27T09:39:00.000-06:00

I don't like being stranded in Dallas. Or anywhere, for that matter. I just got a new cell phone and it's really cool in a super-geek sort of way. I watch Lost. And Heroes. Steven Wright is one of my favorite comics ever. I have skinny legs. I crack my knuckles. I had lasik seven years ago, and it worked so well I can see through clothing. Not really, but I did order X-ray glasses off the back of a comic book when I was about 10 years old. They didn't work either. My son started walking when I was in Dallas. I love pie, all pie, any pie, including cheesecake, which is a pie. I've been making a concerted effort to eat a healthy diet and, what do you know, I feel a lot better. I still drink coffee, though. Love my coffee. I tried some guacamole on Tuesday. Still hate it. Pants: 36x34. Shirt: 16x35. Jacket: 44R. Shoes: 11-1/2.

Stranded!

2007-04-25T10:15:00.000-06:00

Been in Dallas since Monday on business. Supposed to be in Monday morning, out Tuesday night, but last night's lurvely weather stranded us here. Booked to head out around noon. And so I sing...

Show me the way to go home
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
And it went right to my head
Whereever I may roam
On land or sea or foam
You will always hear me singing this song
Show me the way to go home

Doing the right thing.

2007-04-20T08:33:00.000-06:00

UPDATE: My step-daughter's middle school is under lock-down right now because a kid brought a gun to school today. Her dad is there to get her out, so she's okay. As far as I know, the gun wasn't fired. I don't know anymore details, but I'd venture to say it's helping to make the case of this post.

NBC shit-cans Imus, claiming to have done so because of his insensitivity.

Then they air the package of photos, videos and writings that Cho Seung-Hui sent them between killings, claiming to have done so because it was important for us to understand why this disturbed young man did what he did.

Excuse me while I throw up for a while.

NBC fired Imus because of money. NBC aired Cho's stuff because of ratings, which equal money.

That's it. Their bottom line is the bottom line of all of this. Period.

Imus got what he deserved, what he's spent years all but asking for. But NBC made the decision out of fear of loss of revenue from sponsors.

Their decision to air the Cho footage, and make it available to other media outlets, was reprehensible. It was exactly what Cho wanted; he's a celebrity now, immortalized not by what he did, but by the exposure he received after he did it.

Cho's dead, so it doesn't mean shit to him.

But it means a shitload to all the other psychos out there who want to be immortalized too. The message to them is quite simple:

Wanna go out in a blaze of glory? Wanna be immortalized?

We'll help you.

There is absolutely no redeaming value to broadcasting that stuff throughout the world. None.

You turn it over to the authorities, you report that Cho left behind a whole mess of disturbing self-produced materials that further show he was deeply fucked up, and you leave it at that. You don't sate the morbid curiosity of the masses for your fucking ratings. You know, I bet there was even some pride felt at NBC because Cho chose them.

I would like to point out that while almost every other media outlet showed the stuff, CBS did not. And get this: They're taking heat for not showing it.

I'm so sick of the media showing people wondering how someone can get that messed up, blaming guns, blaming a lack of guns, screaming about warning signs, screaming about what the proper response should have been, blah blah blah, and not actually stopping to consider that YOU'RE HELPING TO CREATE THE FUCKING PROBLEM.

It's indefensible.

Interviewrama

2007-04-19T07:44:00.000-06:00

Here are links to all the people I interviewed. Read 'em and learn!

Don
Jodie
Joe
Looney
O'Tim
Ole Blue
Paula
PJ

Here are the answers to my questions from Paticus, if you didn't see 'em before.

I done been nominated!

2007-04-18T17:04:00.000-06:00

My new blog design has made quite an impression! Vanessa went and nominated me for Best Blog Design at the Bloggers Choice Awards, which was a very cool thing to do. If you click the icon below, it'll take you to the page where you can vote if you so choose. Unfortunately, the thumbnail they have of my blog is of my last interim design, not this kick-ass one, so hopefully they'll remedy that real quick-like.

Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, we need your adverbs here.

2007-04-18T07:58:00.000-06:00

Please allow me this language-geek moment.

If you want a word to modify a verb, you need an adverb.

Not an adjective.

Using adjectives instead of adverbs seems to have become an accepted de-evolution of the English language, and it drives me out of me head (thanks, Jodie).

drive safe
act different
run quick
think clear
clap loud

For Lolly's sake, people, throw an "ly" on the end of those adjectives!

I know you're busy. You have a lot to accomplish in a small amount of time and you're trying to trim every second you can. But here's a thought -- maybe replace a handful of the times you stick "like" in a sentence with an adverb or two? You can start slowly <--ADVERB!, like, cut out maybe, like, just one "like" in a sentence and, like, try that. Eventually, you might find that you've actually saved yourself some time.

Look, I know some people are beyond hope, like, say, the leader of our country. You can't... if you're gonna say a verb... an adverb... if you're gonna... the nucular... with an adjective... you can't... don't fool me again.

No, my hopes aren't that high. But how about advertisers? Reporters? Journalists? Public information officers? Teachers? Infomercial hosts? If you're speaking or writing to the public, a basic knowledge of the difference between adjectives and adverbs would be ever so refreshing.

Rage

2007-04-17T14:21:00.000-06:00

O'Tim tagged me, kinda, with this Rage thing. What I gathered was, I need to list 20 songs I'd like played on Rage radio. I must confess I didn't know much about Rage Radio, so I looked into it, and from what I can tell it's not a bunch of raging, angry songs, as I had assumed. But what got me interested in this thing was the idea of listing 20 raging, angry songs, so I'm doing it this way anyway because there ain't no meme police on the Internets.

Here are 20 songs that rage Kos-style. Most of you won't know these songs, but that's okay because not everyone can rage Kos-style. If you do, lemme know and we'll rage together a bit.

"Killing Time" by (hed) pe

"We Die Young" by Alice in Chains

"Bored" by the Deftones

"Minerva" by the Deftones

"One Step Closer by Linkin Park

"The Shortest Straw" by Metallica

"Creeping Death" by Metallica

"Whiplash" by Metallica

"Theme to a Fake Revolution" by Powerman 5000

"Landmine Spring" by Quicksand

"Freedom" by Rage Against the Machine

"Bullet in the Head" by Rage Against the Machine

"Bulls on Parade" by Rage Against the Machine

"Jesus Christ Pose" by Soundgarden

"Vicinity of Obscenity" by System of a Down

"Violent Pornography" by System of a Down

"Hooker With a Penis" by Tool

"Jerk-Off" by Tool

"Turn Me on Mr. Dead Man" by Union Underground

"Welcome to Planet Motherfucker/Psychotic Slag" by White Zombie

My Interview

2007-04-16T13:27:00.000-06:00

UPDATE: DON'T FORGET, ONCE YOU ANSWER THE QUESTIONS ON YOUR BLOG, COME BACK HERE AND POST A COMMENT LETTING EVERYONE KNOW YOU'RE FINISHED!

Paticus has this interview thingie on his site, and I thought it looked interesting, so I asked him to interview me. He sent me five questions to answer. Here they are:

1. What is the best movie remake ?

Ooh, tough one right out of the gate. The Fly comes to mind. As does The Thing and Casino Royale. But in the end, I gotta go with Scarface, which most people don't realize was a remake of a 1932 film.

2. What is your ultimate meal ?

Homemade chicken pot pie and mashed potatoes. Strawberry shortcake for dessert.

3. You have been asked to change the colors of M&M's - What 5 colors do you make them ?

Kelly green, forest green, hunter green, lime green and chartreuse green.

4. Why do fools fall in love ?

Everyone needs a hand to hold onto. Don't need to be no strong hand, don't need to be no rich hand. Everyone just needs a hand to hold onto.

5. What is the best joke you have ever heard ?

Okay, I had put a joke here with a disclaimer saying it's horribly politically incorrect, but I just can't post it. If you want to hear it, email me. Instead, I'll put this one, which is a Gary Shandling slice of brilliance:

I went to my doctor and told him, "My penis is burning."
He told me that means someone is talking about it.

Here are the rules if you want to keep it going:

Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
You will update your weblog with the answers to the questions, and let me know that you answered. If you don't have a blog, but would still like to play, I can send you the questions, and you can answer 'em in the comments.
You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Surprise, surprise, surprise.

2007-04-15T23:01:00.000-06:00

Wild hair + Macintosh + weekend = really, really new template.

This one's here to stay (other than a few design tweaks I still need to make).

Hey Film Freaks

2007-04-15T09:40:00.000-06:00

Get over there and start discussing!

iPod Meme

2007-04-13T16:59:00.000-06:00

Found this meme here. Who is this person? No idea. But she has the same last name as me (fun with Google searching!). I'm doing this with my iPod, though I think it was originally done with iTunes (I don't everything on my iPod that's on my iTunes, but I'm at work and my iTunes is on my home 'puter).

Grab your iPod and tell me:

How many total songs?
12,830 songs, 100 days, 48.79 GB

Sort by song title - first and last?
'til Kingdom Come (Hidden Track), Coldplay
ZZ Top Goes to Egypt, Camper Van Beethoven

Sort by time - shortest and longest?
32 Flavors 2, Ani DiFranco, :04
Heaven 90210, Urge Overkill, 28:38

Sort by Album - first and last?
...And Justice for All, Metallica
Zero, Smashing Pumpkins

Sort by Artist - first and last?
(hed) pe
Zwan

Find 'sex', how many songs show up?
68

Find 'death', how many songs show up?
51

Find 'love', how many songs show up?
765

Current:
MF from Hell, The Datsuns

Friday Confessions

2007-04-13T14:48:00.000-06:00

I shot and killed a bird with a BB gun when I was 12, and it made me cry. I went to a Lutheran school until 5th grade. I've owned 16 cars in 20 years. One of them was a 1984 Pontiac Fiero. It was PJ's before it was mine. I voted for Michael Dukakis. I can make my hiccups go away using nothing but pure will. I was in this movie with this actress. I've never seen it. My favorite temperature is 75˚ Farenheit. My favorite time of day is dusk. I can grow an impressively full beard in one week. I like McDonald's fries and Burger King's burgers. I love old martial arts flicks. I believe marijuana should be legalized, though I haven't smoked it in quite a long time. I have an alter ego named Ernie Campari. He's an infomercial host. I would love to run for office as Ernie Campari and see how long I could get away with it.

Experimenting with template again...

2007-04-13T10:44:00.000-06:00

Back off!

So it goes.

2007-04-12T10:26:00.000-06:00

UPDATE
I've moved my Vonnegut post to the top again because I caught shit for moving it before and I'm an impressionable sort. I also want to address Sour Grapes' comment regarding KV not writing solely in the SF genre: He's absolutely right, and it's an important point to be made. While his SF was what brought me to him in the first place, it was his writinig that kept me with him regardless of genre.

ORIGINAL POST
One of my very favoritest authors ever, Kurt Vonnegut, died at the young age of 84. When I was a boy, I was scifi geek through and through. As I got older and more sofisticated, Vonnegut introduced me to thinking SF. I started with the standard Slaughterhouse Five, then moved on to Deadeye Dick, Timequake, Slapstick, Cat's Cradle, The Sirens of Titan, Jailbird and Player Piano. I also really enjoyed Like Shaking Hands with God, a transcript of a couple conversations between Vonnegut and Lee Stringer. He's definitely not for everyone, but he was most definitely for me.

Embryonic Stem Cell Research

2007-04-12T08:34:00.000-06:00

I'm such a comment whore. Let's see what this post can garner me.

I've heard the arguments against embryonic stem cell research, and I just don't get it. Unlike many issues, where I'm able to at least see some of the other side, I can't for the life of me see the anti side here. Not a bit.

It seems so simple to me.

Couples go in for IVF. Six viable embryos are created. One gets implanted. THE REST GET THROWN OUT.

Thrown out. Disposed of. Flushed down. Washed away.

They're never going to develop into human life. Never ever ever ever.

So...

Scientists have the ability to pull a strand of cells out of the embryo (yes, the one that was going to be THROWN OUT), feed the cells and allow them to multiply. Later -- here's the crazy cool part, communicated in a way that I can understand -- those embryonic stem cells (because they are undifferentiated cells) have the ability to form ANY adult cell. Any. They can be turned into human tissue of any kind. This is big news in the fight against diseases like, oh, say cancer.

Hmm. Throw them out, or use them to potentially find cures for disease.

Tell me again why this is an issue, and why our fucking president is going to veto another bill?

Ye Olde Meme

2007-04-11T16:38:00.000-06:00

Stole this from Paticus.

1. What's your favorite color ? Green

2. Who's your favorite Beatle ? John

3. What's your favorite cooking spice ? Salt

4. What's your favorite book ? Lonesome Dove

5. Favorite explorer ? Neil Armstrong

6. Favorite post it note size ? 2" x 1.5"

7. Favorite Barbara Streisand movie ? Funny Lady

8. Favorite adjective ? Brilliant

9. Favorite car ? 1968 Mustang

10. Favorite Rat Packer ? The Voice/The Chairman of the Board/Ole Blue Eyes/Frank

11. Favorite Brat Packer ? Jud Nelson

12. Favorite Green Bay Packer ? Bart Starr

13. Favorite City ? San Francisco

14. Favorite song ? 10 Years Gone by Led Zeppelin

15. Favorite adhesive ? Scotch tape

16. Favorite ex of Liz Taylor's ? Richard Burton

17. Favorite Brady ? Jan

18. Favorite Christmas Carol ? O Holy Night

19. Favorite animated monkey ? Grape Ape

20. Favorite Writing Implement ? Pilot Dr. Grip Gel

21. Favorite soap ? Dial

22. Favorite vegetable ? Broccoli

23. Favorite superhero ? Batman

24. Favorite Brian Dennehey movie ? Silverado

25. Favorite prehistoric family ? The Marshall family from Land of the Lost

26. Favorite TV Show ? Of all time -- Twilight Zone. On TV right now -- Battlestar Galactica (new one, not old one)

27. Favorite movie villain ? Darth Vader

28. Favorite candy ? Kit Kat

29. Favorite movie ? On the Waterfront

30. Favorite berry ? Straw

31. Favorite breakfast cereal ? I cannot possibly answer this question, as A) Cereal is appropriate for any meal, any time of day, not just breakfast, and B) It's all about the appropriate cereal given the time and situation. I do loves me some Golden Grahams, though.

Grindhouse

2007-04-11T08:54:00.000-06:00

Saw Grindhouse last night. Absolutely loved both movies (it's a double feature of Planet Terror by Robert Rodriguez and Deathproof by Quentin Tarantino), as well as the mock trailers at the beginning and between the movies. The whole experience was a ton of fun. Tarantino and Rodriguez pay homage to old exploitation films, and have a blast doing it. Check out the website when you get a chance, btw, because it's done really well. But some caveats on my recommendation: A) For most women, this wouldn't be your bag; B) The movies are intentionally made to look like old films that have been passed between a thousands hands and theaters, so they're scratched up, there are "missing reels," the coloring gets off... it's all made to emulate the real experience of going to grindhouse or drive-in B-movie double features in the 60s and 70s; C) They ain't for the squeamish. Sound good? Go!

You know, I love Tarantino. I love how he makes movies, I love his dialoge, I love his audacity. But Robert Rodriguez? I damn near worship that guy. He wrote, produced, directed, edited and did the music for Planet Terror. That's one talented dude. If you're interested in film, pick up his book Rebel Without a Crew. It's about his experience making his first film, El Mariachi, for next to nothing. (some of Rodriguez's films include Desperado, Spy Kids and Sin City.

Done messing... for a while.

2007-04-10T14:39:00.001-06:00

The comments to this post make no sense now.

"Just kidding."

2007-04-10T11:18:00.000-06:00

Don't you hate having to say that? You crack a joke and can tell immediately that folks to whom you're talking aren't sure if you're serious or not, and then you have to decide, is it okay if they don't know, or should I let them know because they're my co-workers/supervisors/employees/in-laws, and it could cause unwarranted concern or criticism and possibly be reflected on my annual review/examination? So you say, "Just kidding," and you're really bummed out because the joke lost 75% of its beauty by having to be qualified.

What's even more annoying, however -- and this happens at work frequently -- is people being afraid to laugh at a joke because, well, we're in a meeting and people shouldn't say jokes in a meeting. Come on, that's when the best jokes are told -- when they're not supposed to be told! If I may take a moment to indulge in unbridled self-admiration, I'm quite brilliant at dropping jokes when they're least expected. And by jokes, I don't mean set-up punchline jokes. I mean dry wit delivered as if I'm serious.

Just today I was in a management session about interviewing legalities, and the presenter made a comment something to the effect of, "If someone is interviewing for a position at our agency and you happen to know that s/he beat the crap out of a former co-worker, it is perfectly legal for you to bring that to HR's attention." I raised my hand and asked, "What if you know for a fact that the person who was beat up deserved it?" Straight-faced as can be, because I'm that good, but come on, who thinks that's a serious question? Everyone in the room, apparently, because it was quiet. "Just kidding," I said. Dammit! Come on, people! Embrace the funny! Don't make me qualify my jokes!

Truth is, I usually don't. I love it when people don't know if I'm serious or not. Keeps them guessing and me in a position of power. But sometimes I gotta think about the bigger picture, and aw hell, I gotta attach the "just kidding."

On a completely unrelated note, it's quite the blustery day here in Denver. The wind is blowing so hard, children are rolling like tumbleweeds across the street.

Just kidding.

Come on!

A memorial, or a glorification of violence?

2007-04-09T13:13:00.000-06:00

The city of Littleton, Colorado, wants to honor Navy SEAL Danny Dietz, who was killed in Afghanistan in 2005, by erecting a statue to the fallen Littleton native. The statue, designed by sculptor Robert Henderson, would feature Dietz holding a rifle in a "parade-rest" position on one knee.

Some local parents, however, are protesting the design and location of the statue, which is close to a few schools, claiming that it glorifies violence because he's holding a weapon.

You can read the story from the Rocky Mountain News here.

I think the protest is ridiculous and the protestors are among the frighteningly large population of parents in this country who are petrified at the thought of having to actually parent. A statue like this lends a wonderful opportunity to have a conversation with your child.

But that's what I think. How about you?

You asked for it... Hempmento

2007-04-06T11:35:00.000-06:00

A few years ago my friends and I made the short film Hempmento, a 28-minute parody of the indie hit Memento. It's played in some film festivals, and always gets some good laughs. A number of you (and by you, I mean Looney) have asked to see it. Well, we finally got it on iFilm, so here it is. Again, it's 28 minutes long, and is quite, um, adult in language and subject matter. But if you've seen Memento, I think you'll enjoy it. If you haven't seen Memento, you'll still probably thing it's goofy because, well, it is, but it definitely helps to see its inspiration.

UPDATE: I just noticed that for some reason the video didn't show widescreen when embeded in my blog, but instead was stretched top and bottom. The link to watch it at the iFilm site, however, looks right, so I've removed the embeded video.

Just follow this link to watch the movie at the iFilm site.

"Providing aid and comfort to the enemy."

2007-04-05T16:17:00.000-06:00

If I hear one more wacko use this catchphrase I'm going to hurl.

People having the freedom to speak their minds, whether in agreement with or disagreement with the government, does not provide aid and comfort to the enemy. Telling people that if they don't agree with the government, they should keep their mouths shut? That provides aid and comfort to the enemy, because that's what they do.

But seriously, if you must cling to that flawed belief, at least try to come up with a new catchphrase.

Too damn funny.

2007-04-05T09:14:00.000-06:00

Eric Spitznagel, who writes the very funny blog Vonnegut's Asshole, posted an "interview" with Lieutenant Jim Dangle and Deputy Travis Junior from Reno 911.

Read it here and ROFLYMFAO.

Talking out loud.

2007-04-05T08:47:00.000-06:00

More and more, my inner monologue keeps slipping out.

Why? Why, as I approach 40, am now I saying out loud what I think I'm thinking?

It seems like it's always mid-sentence, too. I'll be driving to work, running through my morning to-do list in my head, and somewhere in the middle I'll start speaking.

"...time sheets in or they'll have my ass."

The scariest thing is, I don't realize I'm doing it until I've done it. I'll finish the thought out loud, and then think, wait a second, did I just say that out loud? It's not just when I'm alone, either. I'll catch myself doing it at work or in a store or out for a walk. What I haven't started, knock on wood, is doing it when someone I know is right there with me. But I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

What things are you finding yourself doing now that you didn't used to do when you were younger?

Why don't you eat breakfast?

2007-04-04T09:50:00.000-06:00

You know you should. Every doctor, every nutritionist, every teacher and every parent have told you it's the most important meal of the day. You know it's the most important meal of the day. Yet you still don't eat it, do you?

Why?

Whether Al Gore's full of an undetermined amount of shit or not...

2007-04-03T08:07:00.000-06:00

Who cares?

Here's a newsflash to all the "Global warming is a myth!" people:

Pollution is bad. Bad for you, bad for me, bad for everyone, bad for everything.

The crap that gets into the air -- crap that we put up there -- hangs out for us to breathe, contribuiting to all kinds of respiratory problems. It also comes back down again when it rains or snows, polluting the earth and the water. That affects what we drink and what we eat.

So when Al Gore's PowerPoint presentation on global warming wins an Oscar, the artist in me thinks, "You've got to be kidding me! Did you not see The U.S. vs. John Lennon? The horror!" But the human being in me, the one concerned with a trivial thing I like to call "health," thinks, "If this compels some people to rethink some of their behaviors regarding waste and environmental impact, where's the bad in that?"

Seriously, where's the bad in that? If you don't believe in Al Gore's theory of global warming, fine. Step back from that higher concept for a minute and bring it down to us here on the earth today. Tell me what harm would come from us putting fewer pollutants into the air, water and earth. At the very least, it will make for a healthier life, which benefits everyone, even capitalists. And maybe, just maybe, if there is something to this whole global warming thing, it might help reduce or even reverse that.

That just doesn't seem like a bad thing to me.

I'm back!

2007-04-01T11:47:00.000-06:00

Charleston is bee-you-tee-ful. We had a fantastic trip. I'm blessed with a family that loves to travel, and kids who travel very well. Poor Sammy got some virus and was sick on the way home Friday, and is only now starting to act himself again. Luckily it happened at the end of the trip instead of the beginning. Anyway, now I gotta turn around and fly to Cincinnati in a couple hours for work. Just one night at least. I promise I'll post something profoundly full of awesomeness either tonight or tomorrow. In the meantime, watch The U.S. vs. John Lennon, because it's really, really good and will make you want to go protest something.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

2007-03-23T15:44:00.000-06:00

That's where we'll be until next Friday.

You kids take care of the place while we're gone.

AND NO PARTIES!

And The Winner Is...

2007-03-23T08:20:00.000-06:00

Congratulations, Jen!!!! You ended with a whopping 115 points with an impressive bracket from first round to last. In fact, you only lost two picks after the second round! And there you were giving me the business over Midnight Cowboy... I know you said in comments that you were going to refuse the prize, but I don't feel right about that. How about this: Pick a DVD for your kids, any DVD. See, I don't want Looney to think I picked Casablanca to get out of having to give the winner a DVD. ;-)

Congratulations Looney! You came in second place with a 102, duking it out until the bitter end. Also, very impressive that you came in 2nd without picking the winner. Nice picking!

Thanks to everyone else for participating in what was a spur-of-the-moment idea I had while driving to work listening to the talk jocks chat about the March Madness basketball tournament. I had a royal blast doing it, and will definitely make it an annual event. Of course, even more importantly, out of this was born the Film Freaks Film Club, which will be the coolest thing ever in bloghistory.

Finally, thanks for keeping things fun, engaging, respectful and positive. We've all seen the nastiness that can go on throughout the blogosphere, so it's been extremely gratifying to have ol' Boiled Dinner be a respite from all that. I think I'll try to keep it that way.

Here are the final standings:

Jen: 115 (Casablanca)
Looney: 102 (On the Waterfront)
Schadenfreude: 82 (Casablanca)
Brad: 75 (To Kill a Mockingbird)
Paticus: 71 (Godfather)
Nat: 70 (To Kill a Mockingbird)
Sylvia: 64 (Casablanca)
Joe the Troll: 63 (Casablanca)
Don: 63 (Citizen Kane)
O'Tim: 60 (American Graffiti)
Ravenous: 57 (Citizen Kane)
Paula: 55 (Chinatown)
Fez: 51 (Godfather)
Jackson: 47 (The Graduate)
Lucy: 45 (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest)
Caley Adams: 41 (Star Wars)
Venessa: 39 (Gone With the Wind)
Emma: 39 (To Kill a Mockingbird)
Eden: 37 (Gone With the Wind)
Arleen: 34 (M*A*S*H)
Lady Strathconn: 34 (Godfather)
Jeff Adams: 31 (Star Wars)

Film Freaks Film Club

2007-03-22T14:22:00.000-06:00

I had this really cool idea while writing a comment to the post below this, and it's such a cool idea it deserves its own post.

Who would be up for a blog-based film club?

Each month (or perhaps every other), someone is designated to choose a film. That person posts the film on his/her blog, and everyone in the club (secret handshakes and wotnot) watches the film by the deadline. Then the person who chose the film begins a discussion on her/his blog by posting questions or discussion prompts.

Or, perhaps the film chooser posts some things to look for during the film, preparing us for the discussion ahead of time.

We'd create a sort of Film Freaks Circle of Blogs.

Or, we could create a single team blog and all members have posting priveleges. That could be Way Cool Junior.

Thoughts?

UPDATE: It is Way Cool Junior. Here's the site.