tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-211183412024-03-12T21:12:30.398-07:00Analyst CatalystAnalyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.comBlogger494125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-68737797370015165522010-11-11T09:29:00.001-08:002010-11-11T09:29:00.289-08:00Huh. I'm on the Internet<a href="http://www.sfplayhouse.org/season1011/solo.php">Freddy and Me</a>Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-62402748108297946342010-11-10T21:15:00.001-08:002010-11-10T21:25:27.809-08:00I Just Think This Is Brilliant<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/TNt8ynpkuQI/AAAAAAAAAI0/3zR4WTVv4Tw/s1600/banksy-flower-thrower-316-p.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 292px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/TNt8ynpkuQI/AAAAAAAAAI0/3zR4WTVv4Tw/s400/banksy-flower-thrower-316-p.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538157375860816130" border="0" /></a><br />The above is a graphic that the British street artist Banksy originally sketched on a wall in Israel.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8826310@N05/sets/72157625182158555/detail/">This links to photos of someone who used this graphic as the inspiration for a Halloween costume.</a><br /><br />Just wow.<br /><br />As a side note, I whole-heartedly encourage anyone reading this to watch the documentary <a href="http://movies.nytimes.com/2010/04/16/movies/16exit.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">Exit Through the Gift Shop</span></a> which features Banksy. It's a slippery slope of identity, and there are some who think the whole thing is a joke/prank/hoax by Banksy. It's interesting, albeit sometimes foul-mouthed, stuff.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-77864708981419986882010-11-04T22:29:00.000-07:002010-11-04T22:38:31.739-07:00An Open LetterDear Chinese Food Restaurant Who Delivers to my Apartment,<br /><br />First off, thanks for delivering. It really helps bridge the gap between lack of exercise and excess caloric consumption. Soon my goal of becoming the world's fattest man will be a reality.<br /><br />Here's the thing though: I know that many of your dishes are perhaps unfamiliar to most palates, so believe me, when you put a little star by your menu options that says "Must Try!", I give those foods some serious consideration. I want my palate to be cultured, and not with bacteria.<br /><br />However, when I order one of those items, and it turns out to be an inexplicably bony, cold (!) piece of chicken, I get a little grossed out. Okay, a lot grossed out. I guess I'll stick to fried rice from now on.<br /><br />Love and Bony Kisses,<br />ACAnalyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-3416478654708901292010-11-03T21:15:00.000-07:002010-11-03T21:26:24.753-07:00Day of the Dead (A Dead Day Late)Although I didn't participate this year, last year I went and walked along the route of the Day of the Dead parade up here in San Francisco. Although its proximity to Halloween might make people think that it's a scary holiday, it's actually more of a night to celebrate life while at the same time remembering those close to us who have recently passed away. <br /><br />As something of an homage to the holiday, below is something that I wrote for a storytelling class as part of an exercise called "Ancestral Evocation." It's about one of my grandmothers who passed away a couple of years ago. 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priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">When I took part in the ancestral evocation exercise in class, some phrases by my family members came very quickly to mind, whether it was my mother’s inappropriate comment to me before one of my first dates, “Keep it in your pants,” or my grandfather softly signing, “Don’t let the smoke get in your eyes.”<span style=""> </span>But for one of my family members, the words were a little more difficult to hear.<span style=""> </span>When it came time to evoke a phrase from my grandmother, the first thing that came to me was my remembrance of her little giggle.</span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style=""> </span>I’m sure many of us have or have had grandmas that interact with us in this way.<span style=""> </span>If our parent’s job is to raise us and to discipline us, many grandparents’ job seems to be to spoil us and to be amused by us.<span style=""> </span>My dad’s side of the family was loud and joyous and loved to have a good time, and my grandmother was always there, loving every minute of it, and expressing her love for it by her giggle.<span style=""> </span>One of the first times that I remember her laughing was when I was really little, maybe four or five years old.<span style=""> </span>She had this ceramic, blue cookie jar that was in the shape of a very rotund chef, complete with chef’s hat and hands on his belly, ostensibly to keep him from exploding from being too full.<span style=""> </span>I looked up at her (you know how everyone looks so big when you’re little?), and, I said, “Grandma, can I please have a cookie?”<span style=""> </span>Her first response was just to giggle her little giggle, in the way that grandmas do when you’re being a cute little kid, and she went over to the cookie jar, pulled me out a cookie, and handed it to me.<span style=""> </span>It was just a Fig Newton, but beggars can’t be choosers as far as cookies are concerned.</span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style=""> </span>One of the next times I remember her giggling like that was when I was in high school, and we were celebrating Christmas at her house.<span style=""> </span>In the middle of everything, she got up, walked back to her room, and came back with a box from a department store.<span style=""> </span>She opened it up, and what my 80 year old grandma pulled out wasn’t lingerie, exactly, but it was silky and pink and pretty definitely designed for wearing to “bed.”<span style=""> </span>Her pronouncement about this garment was: “Look at what grandpa got me for Christmas.”<span style=""> </span>And again she giggled.<span style=""> </span>Though this one sounded the same, this was more the laugh of someone who knows they’re being funny; this was the laugh of an equal who was letting me in on the joke.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style=""> </span>One last scene with my grandma was a couple years after grandpa had died.<span style=""> </span>After his death, her health got worse and worse, and the family put her into house with a couple of other older people who couldn’t take care of themselves like they used to.<span style=""> </span>The night before I saw her, my dad had a dream that featured Grandpa, and in the dream, grandpa had told my dad to go see grandma.<span style=""> </span>So, we piled into the car, and drove up to see her.<span style=""> </span>Grandma wasn’t giggling any more.<span style=""> </span>Though she had been a healthy, somewhat plump woman, my grandma now weighed less than ninety pounds.<span style=""> </span>She was lying, crunched up on her bed, sleeping, with her mouth almost gasping for air, like a person coming up from under water.<span style=""> </span>Now I was the more physically powerful figure, but there was no way that I could help her like she had helped me when I was little to get that cookie.<span style=""> </span>As I watched her, and as we said our goodbyes, I remembered her giggle, and what that had meant to me.<span style=""> </span>She passed away two hours after we left.</span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style=""> </span>But her death’s not what I want to remember about my grandmother.<span style=""> </span>I want to remember her joy for life and her family that was expressed in her little giggle.<span style=""> </span>I haven’t imitated it in this story because I don’t want to taint my remembrance, because if I sit still and think for a moment, I can still remember how it sounded.<span style=""> </span>That laugh is how I want to remember her.</span></p>Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-28547842512149576952010-11-02T11:57:00.000-07:002010-11-02T11:59:47.635-07:00A Couple of LinksHigh Brow:<br /><br />I've added this to my blog list over on the left, but it bears repeating over here: the New York Times is trying blog the events of the Civil War in a real time fashion. <a href="http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/category/disunion/">It's interesting to check out</a>.<br /><br />Low Brow:<br /><br />Somebody built a tiny catapult and is using it to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6nshKhqyqU&feature=player_embedded">throw even tinier pies at insects</a>. Enjoy.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-40745175236425137482010-11-01T16:16:00.000-07:002010-11-01T16:29:41.509-07:00On the Eve of ElectionWith all of the political ads on the television of late, it's getting more and more difficult to forget that there's an election tomorrow. Nevertheless, these ads got me thinking: if I were running for office, what would I need to do to get elected (other than "silencing" the scores of arms dealers I have illegally dealt with in my brief tenure as gunrunner* for various juntas down South America way)?<br /><br />These are my ideas for how I would run my campaign:<br /><br />1) My slogan (and platform) would be: "Vote for AC -- He'd Vote for You!"<br /><br />2) I would purchase ads on bus stop benches that just had my smiling face. I might also include a website address, but that site would have little to do with the campaign (such as <a href="http://iamawesome.com">iamawesome.com</a>).<br /><br />3) I would change my last name to something difficult to spell, and then run as a <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2010/09/17/source-murkowski-pursue-write-candidacy/">write-in candidate in Alaska</a>.**<br /><br />4) I would move to Alaska.<br /><br />5) I would win. Boom.<br /><br />*Oddly enough, this is also an elected office.<br />**I wrote myself in as my vote for President in 2004. True story. I did not win.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-46908838638109236622010-04-26T22:32:00.000-07:002010-04-26T23:13:03.788-07:00Defective (Also, This Isn't Really Funny, or Well-Written, So I'd Skip It If I Were You) (Don't Be Fooled by the Opening Lines; It Goes Downhill Fast)Because we are part of the genteel, leisured class, my wife and I sometimes go to do crazy expensive things, like instruct our servants to engage in small-arms combat for our amusement, purchase diamond-encrusted monocles with diamonds for lenses, and pay full-price for a movie in the theaters.*<br /><br />Such was the case this very Sunday evening. My wife and I went on a date night to go see <span style="font-style: italic;">Date Night</span>. While it was amusing, it was not near as funny as she or I thought it would be.<br /><br />Today, I was speaking with a coworker, and I told her my opinion of the movie, and she said that, while my reaction was very similar to her husband's, she actually thought that the movie was hilarious. Her explanation was something along the lines of how "if you're more boring like me, some of the jokes really hit home." Further, she said that she hadn't heard a lot about the movie beforehand, so going to see it was a pleasant experience.<br /><br />This got me to thinking a couple of things. One, the movie clearly worked for at least one person. However, the more that I thought about it, I realized that the movie had worked for me as well, just not as much as I would have liked. My question out of this, then, is: is it a fair criticism of any work to art to say that something was not as _______ as you would have liked it to be? A comedy is trying to be funny; if it makes you laugh or smile at all, in a sense, it has succeeded. Saying that it is not as funny as you thought it would be implies that you had a set understanding about it before going into it, and it further implies that you were either misinformed about the movie or else you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">misperceived</span> the data regarding the movie you had previously been given. Is it possible that the movie trailer misrepresent how funny it would be? If so, isn't it the trailer's (and not the movie's) fault for misleading you? Shouldn't my criticism be, "The movie was funny; however, the previews for the movie lead me to think that it would be riotously funny; therefore, my perception of the movie was skewed unfavorably by disingenuous advertising, and I cannot fully articulate how I would have enjoyed it going in blank."<br /><br />I know that this is making a mountain out of a mole hill,** but it seems like a) it's impossible to effectively trace an emotional (or even intellectual) response back to why we feel/think it, and b) if we accept that art is designed to promote a response in the viewer, how can we really ascertain why we think that way or whether our conclusion is worthwhile.<br /><br />Dear Internet: please help.<br /><br />*<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">BAZINGA</span>!<br />**P.S.: This phrase is hackneyed, trite, and asinine, but I will not change it because now I have a footnote, and heaven knows how I love footnotes.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-82411306562944836802010-04-19T06:40:00.000-07:002010-04-19T21:26:57.595-07:00I Am the Center of NarcissismThis is not something that I am proud of, but let's spend a little time sharing, shall we? Perhaps sharing will let the metaphorical* crazy out.<br /><br />Sometimes, I am concerned that people can hear what I'm thinking. Like, really. Like, for real-real, not for play-play. This happens particularly in my grad classes, where I would like to keep up the facade that I am a reasonably intelligent person, and not someone who occasionally lets his mind wander to favorite Ren and Stimpy episodes when we're discussing the ramifications of a writer's ethnicity on the work that he/she produced. Nevertheless, I will sometimes provide some unspoken color commentary,** and another member of the class will look at me, and I swear that they have heard what I thought.<br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br />And so, what I do, is to pretend to scream at the top of my lungs in my head under the assumption that if everybody <em>can</em> hear me that everyone will look at me due to this outburst.*** I will then have solid evidence that I am not crazy. This looks like this:<br /><br />TYPICAL CONVERSATION:<br />Student A: I think it shows an obvious sense of imperialism for Peter Brook, an Englishman, to adapt the Mahabharata, an Indian set of scriptures, for the stage.<br />Me: (<span style="font-style: italic;">in my head</span>) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUnGXTjmc9E">It's log! Log! It's big, it's heavy, it's wood!</a><br />Student A: (<em>Glancing at me</em>)<br />Me: (<span style="font-style: italic;">in my head</span>) AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!<br />Everyone else: (<em>Nothing. No response. They're very tricky.</em>)<br /><br />This line of thinking is not normal, people. This is not normal.<br /><br />P.s.: Dear Sweetspotsweetie: I will happily accept a diagnosis from your husband. Very happily.<br /><br />*Read: actual.<br />**Even some that is irrelevant to the discussion! Zing!<br />***Inburst?Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-79138554132490253352010-03-31T06:43:00.000-07:002010-03-31T13:07:43.053-07:00If the Blog Fits, Wear It...wait, what?So, I'm six months into grad school, and I have found that I am specifically good at one thing: coming up with titles. Bear in mind that I am only adequate at writing papers and formulating analyses and wearing corduroy, leather-elbowed suit jackets while pontificating on Marxist theory in <em>My Fair Lady</em> and all other things that one would assume that a grad student in drama would be good at, but I'm loving imagining titles.<br /><br />As an explanation, from time to time one of my professors will give us an exercise where we'll, in class, come up with titles for papers that we'd like to write. I think that this is a lot of fun, and my classmates are amused at what I come up with (though I remain concerned about the laughing at/laughing with dynamic). However, I feel that the papers that come out of these ideas are a little cumbersome.<br /><br />But, still, I am pretty good at titles, and I even enjoy daydreaming about titles of papers I will someday write. To break the silence of AC*, here are a few titles that have been rolling around in my head the last couple of days.<br /><br />"A Reevaluation of Prominent 20th Century Female Playwrights: <em>Is </em>that what she said?"<br /><br />"She's So Heavy: Fat Folk in Theatre"<br /><br />"Analyzing Improvised Theatre: Is the Play the Thing?"<br /><br />For one of the exercises from the professor, he asked us to come up with a title for the paper we were working on as if it were on the front page of a tabloid. My paper concerned similarities between the time periods of Sophocles and Shakespeare as evidenced through their work. My tabloid title was "Shakespeare Steals Sophocles Stories? Survey Says: Sorta."<br /><br />There was a playwright/critic named Brecht who emphasized, among other things, that plays needed to "alienate" so that the audience wouldn't get as caught up in empathizing with the characters and the audience would spend time intellectually evaluating what was being presented. This sounded like something that I saw in popular culture, so my idea for a paper was "Brecht's Alienation: Is Family Guy What He Intended?"<br /><br />Trust me, people think this stuff is great in grad school.<br /><br />*Doesn't this sound like a Spike Lee movie? Also, it seemed like you all were having fun writing on your own blogs, so I decided to get in on that fun.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-4330064523750616302009-10-14T00:13:00.000-07:002009-10-14T00:24:19.232-07:00If I Had Class, I Could Have Been a Contender, Instead of a Bum, Which I AmIn one of my classes, we discussed different ways of incorporating figurative language into our writing about the theatre. This gave me an idea, which I will attempt here. I have decided to use similes that are too specific to be useful. As in:<br /><br />"Today was as cold as October 14, 2009. My wife's eyes were as blue as Paula's eyes ever are. I, like a graduate student, carefully studied them, and I believed them to be as beautiful as the most beautiful eyes my wife ever had."<br /><br />I discussed this idea with a friend tonight, who said if I could come up with three critics who agree with this usage (especially if I could sell it as a means of writing that is immediately useful, and then with each passing second becomes less useful) I could start a whole new field of literary criticism. <br /><br />One can only dream.<br /><br />P.S.: I, like Christie, will aim to get back to funny poop stories soon, although, to be fair, a poop story from me is not as funny. I guess I have been harrowed by it ever since a poop shot my father in cold blood.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-86101670658953148172009-08-24T22:29:00.000-07:002009-08-24T23:24:46.430-07:00Grad School Travels - Part 1 - Waiting for Godot (the 88)I pull into the Balboa Park BART Station in San Francisco. It is worth noting that there is a Balboa Park in San Diego also, though, to be fair, San Diego actually has a park, whereas, upon exiting Balboa Park station, all I am met with is a man who wants a cigarette.<br /><br />"Sorry man, I don't have any."<br /><br />"I gotta quarter. You know in these tough times, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nobody's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">givin</span>' anything up for free."<br /><br />"Yeah, I guess that's right."<br /><br />I watch him walk over to a girl sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette. She tells him she doesn't have any. He starts to walk back over to me. "Times is tough," is all he can say. He is an African-American man, maybe 30 years old. He's a little hefty, but his clothes are fairly nice. He seems like a nice enough guy.<br /><br />I take this quiet moment to evaluate my surroundings. Based on my research, I know that I'm looking for the 88 bus. I see on the bus stop that one of the buses that stops there is the 88, and I think it would be going in the direction of my hotel.<br /><br />A bus pulls up. It's the 45, so it's wrong for me, but my cigarette seeking friend has a new group of people to ask. He pounces on this opportunity. "Hey black," he says to an African-American guy, "You got a smoke?"<br /><br />"Nah man, I don't got any of that crap."<br /><br />He walks back to me. "Times is tough. It's still a great country though. Except we got this President that looks in the mirror and hates what he see. Dude wishes he was white. Whatever though man. People going to get by. People be tripping, but I don't. Not unless it's about taking care of my family. That's the only thing I trip about."<br /><br />"That's good man. You got to take care of your family."<br /><br />"I sure do. See here?" He gestures to a bag with a couple of shoe boxes. I nod. "I been out since early today getting shoes for my daughter, and I just heard back from my baby momma that I got the wrong size. I got a good price on them though. Twenty-five bucks a piece. That's fifty bucks, man. I'm going back to the store to get the right size. I spent fifty bucks, man, they better hook me up, you know?"<br /><br />"Yeah, makes sense."<br /><br />Another bus pulls up. It's the 29. Wrong again. This time my companion sees a Mexican guy and says, "Hey <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">homie</span>! You gotta smoke? I give you a quarter for a smoke." The other guys just shakes his head and starts walking down the stairs.<br /><br />The guy walks back to me, and clicks his quarter against the glass wall of the bus stop. "Times is tough."<br /><br />Wanting to continue the conversation, I ask, "How <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">old's</span> your daughter?"<br /><br />"Well, I got four kids. Two are eleven, one is seven, and one's four. That youngest one, she's crazy though. She just hits. It's crazy sometimes. These shoes are for the eleven year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">olds</span>."<br /><br />He clicks the quarter against the glass a few more times, and our conversation fizzles out. Finally, he takes off down the block, and I'm left alone. The 9x bus comes. The 45 comes again. Then the 29 comes again.<br /><br />I see a few more cycles of the same wrong buses, and I decide just to walk it. I've now spent an hour waiting for this bus that apparently isn't coming, and I just want to get to my hotel.<br /><br />I check my map again, and I take off one way expecting to find a specific cross street. I cross a few streets only to realize that I'm going the wrong way. I sigh at my inability to do basic tasks, and take off the other way, this time, thankfully, down hill. Half way to my hotel, it reverts to going uphill, making my trip effectively up hill both ways. Somebody tell grandpa he was right; it is possible.<br /><br />A mile and a half later through some of the safest streets of San Francisco (you can tell it's a safe area because the bars across the windows and doors in conjunction with the prevalence of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">graffiti</span> really scare away all the unsavory characters) I finally make it to my hotel. <br /><br />Times is tough, all right. But things are looking up.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-51039829745710634292009-08-21T01:50:00.000-07:002009-08-21T19:12:36.908-07:00Doctor Feel Good? or This Post Is Rated PG-13I went to a specialist yesterday. You see, I have an indentation on my right shin-bone (that's tibia to you dorks out there) that seems like it has been slowly growing since high school. It doesn't hurt at all, but my mind can't seem to help thinking about the possibility of me going out for a run, only to have my tibia shatter like so many glass bottles against so many heads of so many heroes of so many western movies in so many bar fights.<br /><br />I went to my primary care physician (or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phencyclidine">PCP</a> to you druggies out there) last year and told him about this (because at the time I was watching a lot of House, and it seemed like it was always the mundane detail that the patient neglected to bring up that made that patient lose their life/leg/face). He felt around on my leg and looked perplexed. Then he said, "Well, let's get you an x-ray to see if we can't figure this out."<br /><br />I got my x-rays (in January 2009), and then at my last doctor's appointment (in August 2009), he reviewed the pictures. Given that there is a large hole in my leg bone, you would think that it would be easy to see on an x-ray. I can why you're not a doctor.<br /><br />He pulls up the picture on the screen, and looks at it and then looks at the other one, and, sure enough, there is nothing to be seen. So he sends me to the specialist I referenced earlier, because the next step, in his opinion, would be an MRI, and only the specialist can order that procedure. I had my appointment yesterday.<br /><br />My time at the specialist's office started off with them taking my weight. The scale is around the corner from the nurse's station; despite the name, a good number of doctors hang out there also. As I couldn't be seen by the staff, I overheard the following exchange:<br /><br />Male Doctor 1 - Looks like you got a package in the mail.<br />Male Doctor 2 - Must be that [sex toy typically used by women]* I ordered.<br />Every other doctor and nurse in the area - SHHHHHHH!!!!!<br /><br />This calm and professional environment really put me at ease, so you can imagine my surprise when they took my blood pressure a few minutes later and it was higher than normal. I made some excuse about how I've had coffee that morning, and that is what it was chalked up to.<br /><br />I wait for a few minutes until the doctor comes in. She seemed like a nice lady. That is, it seemed like she was a nice lady up until she laughed.<br /><br />Now, I consider myself a student of the human experience, and I have found that when people are in friendly conversation, they may chuckle for one to three seconds either nervously or in an effort to be polite. But this lady laughed for a good ten to fifteen seconds at a time.<br /><br />I don't believe I am exaggerating at all when I claim that this was the most AWKWARD EXPERIENCE IN MY YOUNG LIFE.<br /><br />Why, you may ask? Well, her laugh was very similar to Janice's on Friends. I submit the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuYUOJp2fPI">following clip as exhibit A</a>.<br /><br />Except it went on for ten to fifteen seconds.<br /><br />Here is a clip from our conversation:<br /><br />Doctor - So your blood pressure is high and I notice you're sweating.<br />AC - Yeah, it's a little warm in here.<br />Doctor - Sure, and I bet it's a little nerve-wracking to come to a new doctor.<br />AC - (<em>Trying to be friendly</em>) Well, you've been pretty nice...so far.<br />Doctor - HAHHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHH!<br />AC - (<em>Chuckling politely</em>)<br />Doctor - HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!<br />AC - (<em>Chuckling politely and looking Doctor in the eye to ascertain just what is going on here</em>)<br />Doctor - HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!<br />AC - (<em>Trying to chuckle politely, yet wanting desperately to shoot himself in the face to get away from this insane laughter, but, having no weapon, opts instead to look at the floor</em>)<br />Doctor - HAHAHAHAHA! So, I don't know what's wrong with your leg. I'll measure the indentation, and then you can make an appointment to come back and we'll see if it has grown. Does that sound like a good plan?<br />AC - (<em>Thankful the aural assault has concluded, and not wanting to set her off again</em>) Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.<br />Doctor - Okay. HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA!<br /><br />And the whole thing repeats again.<br /><br />I did not make a follow-up appointment, and I don't know that I will. It's a real horse race in my mind between coming back and letting my shin shatter. I'm just saying a wheel chair is looking real good about now.<br /><br />*I couldn't bring myself to type it. I guess that's why I'll never write for Larry David. Also, it's why this post isn't rated R.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-81463835881614749322009-08-18T03:11:00.000-07:002009-08-18T10:55:52.164-07:00Ten on Tuesday: K1: Kielbasa - This is delicious.<br /><div></div><br /><div>2: Kerouac, Jack - I don't really consider myself a prude, but when I tried to read <em>On the Road</em> in high school I found that I couldn't get through it. I had gotten to a point where Kerouac's friend Dean had left his wife and young children without explanation to go on another road trip with Jack, and I was too offended to continue. I don't think I would be quite as offended now, but it was profoundly offensive to me then.</div><div></div><br /><div>3: King Stahlman Bail Bonds - I think it is a safe assessment to say that everybody in San Diego has heard of King Stahlman. His advertisements run across every form of local media. There is a location of his bail bond store (?) near my office, and painted on the same building, it is referred to both as <em>"King" Stahlman Bail Bonds</em> and <em>King Stahlman Bail Bonds</em>. I take the difference in quotation marks to mean that on certain sides of the building he is an actual king and on certain sides he is only playing a "king."*</div><div></div><br /><div>4: 311 - A friend of mine in high school claimed that the band 311 got it's name because it was a white supremacist group, as <em>K</em> is the eleventh letter of the alphabet, and so 311 would therefore equal KKK. It seemed pretty unlikely to me, but the rumor was apparently pretty widespread as it has received <a href="http://www.snopes.com/music/artists/311.asp">mention over at snopes.com</a>. However, according to Snopes, the real story behind the name is that 311 is allegedly the police code for indecent exposure, which the band figured out when one member got a ticket for skinny dipping. Take that high school friend!</div><div></div><br /><div>5: <a href="http://www.klondikepizza.com/">Klondike Pizza</a> - This little pizza restaurant started in a small town ("The Village of Arroyo Grande" as their sign says) near my home town and then started another location in my home town. It is my favorite pizza, bar none. Friday nights for me as a kid were pizza nights, and I did my fair share of begging to be taken here. From the peanut shells on the floor to the numerous posters for the Iditarod to their motto "We cheat the other guy and pass the savings on to you!", this place it good times.</div><div></div><br /><div>6: KHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!</div><div></div><br /><div>7: Kart, Mario - A supremely frustrating game for the Nintendo 64 as the game would actually cheat (by having computer characters move much more quickly than they are supposed to) if you got too good at the game. This is why I don't have any hair. Thanks a lot Mario.</div><br /><div></div><a href="http://otakunogamers.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/princess-is-in-another-castle.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 335px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px" alt="" src="http://otakunogamers.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/princess-is-in-another-castle.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>8: Koopa - While on the subject of Mario, in the original Super Mario Bros. game, at the end of the fourth level in every world, you would try to defeat King Koopa with the expectation that you would rescue the Princess after you defeat him. For the first seven worlds, there would just be a baby waiting for you, and a message would play saying "Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another castle!" At the end of the eighth world, you have to go through a ridiculous maze that, if you make a wrong turn, just repeats itself over and over again until you die by running out of time. I am not sure how anybody figured that maze out without the internet guiding the way; it was ridiculous for the designers to expect me as a five year old to be happy about getting to the last level only to lose life after life and ultimately have to start the game over. If you manage to get to and beat Koopa, you now have a Princess to fawn over you as well as seven illegitimate children to look after. I'm pretty sure this is why American men then to shy away from relationships.</div><div> </div><div>9: Kilgore Trout - This is Kurt Vonnegut's alter-ego in many of his novels. Both are just so brilliant.</div><div> </div><div>10: Krab - This is how artificial crab is frequently spelled in sushi restaurants. While it tastes virtually identical, one can't help but wonder if there is some pernicious Soviet influence at work with this imitation meat.</div><div></div><br /><div>*I felt this was more appropriate in a foot note. In verifying how to spell his name, I learned that he passed away <a href="http://www.10news.com/news/18713233/detail.html">earlier this year</a>. I was unaware.</div>Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-2666089270719733372009-08-11T00:50:00.000-07:002009-08-11T11:36:38.475-07:00Ten on Tuesday: J (With Extra Footnotes to Make Amends for Last Week)1: Jeremiah - Was a bull frog (also, he was a good friend of mine).<br /><br />2: Junk - When I was in college, a phrase that gained popularity when you were playfully mad at someone else was, "I'm going to punch you in the junk," or, instead of "punch," you could instead say some other violent action like "I'm going to kick you in the junk," or "I'm going to atom bomb and send smallpox to your junk".***** When somebody said this (and it was, quite frequently, <a href="http://christies-sweetspot.blogspot.com/">Christie</a>), I liked to add something along the lines of "Yeah! Right in their Chinese ship!" I was greatly amused.<br /><br />3: Jersey Boys - I saw it with my brother on the <a href="http://analystcatalyst.blogspot.com/2009/07/retrospective.html">Vegas trip with the guys</a>, and I saw it again last week with my lovely wife. It was terrific both times; I highly recommend it.<br /><br />4: "Jamaica Me Crazy" - At a get-together with some friends in my home town last year, I decided it would be funny to, whenever I saw one friend in particular, say the phrase "Jamaica me crazy!" and then playfully poke and tickle him.* His response was always to run away. I don't know whether he enjoyed it as much as I did, but I do know that the second time I did so, he disappeared from the party for about an hour.<br /><br />5: James Buchanan - I, on a whim, <a href="http://analystcatalyst.blogspot.com/2009/01/miseducation-of-ac.html">researched him earlier this year</a>, and I even contemplated getting a <a href="http://analystcatalyst.blogspot.com/2009/01/beating-dead-horse.html">mouse pad with his likeness</a> (though I decided it was a bad idea). I'm not sure why I have any friends.<br /><br />6: Jar Jar Binks - When I was sixteen going on seventeen, I queried my mother by saying, "Mother dear, if you find it prudent, I would sincerely appreciate the opportunity to go see <em>The Phantom Menace</em> with some upstanding members of the community." She, in turn, allowed me to go to the midnight showing of <em>Star Wars: Episode 1</em> with some friends. I was stoked; after all, that movie was going to be awesome, and I was going to be a part of the cultural force that got to see it first. As you all likely know, to say that that movie was a bit of a disappointment is like saying Tom Brady is only a little bit like <a href="http://icanhaspixiedust.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/belleandgaston.jpg">Gaston</a> -- it's an incredible understatement. Let me add to that the observation that at two in the morning, Jar Jar Binks gets real old, real fast. "Me-sa want-uh blow my head off!"<br /><br />7: Jello - Is there really always room for it?<br /><br />8: Al Jolson - When I was Snoopy in <em>Snoopy!!!</em> a few years back, the director wanted me to sing one of my song's like Al Jolson. So, I listened to some of his music, and I gave it my best shot. The director said something like, "Do you even know who Al Jolson is?" I don't think I ever got it the way he wanted me to get it. Looking back now, I wonder if he wanted me to do it in black-face.**<br /><br />9: Jimmy Eat World - One of the first jobs I had when I got out of college was teaching voice at a music store.*** In between students, I would talk with one of the other teachers (who also worked as the cashier) about music and bands that we liked. One day, she said, "What makes Jimmy Eat World so good? Why are all of their songs so catchy?" I said, "I was thinking about that, and I really think it's the vocal harmonies."**** She looked at me with a look that looked like looking was the last courtesy she would afford me, and then she changed the subject.<br /><br />10: Jalopy - This is my weekly old-timey word that I wish people would use more. As in, the cranky curmudgeon hopped in his jalopy and went to the haberdashery.********<br /><br />*I have done straighter things in my life.*********<br />**Which is just offensive. I mean, absolutely morbidly obese.<br />***The store went out of business pretty quickly (in five or six months), which I don't really consider my fault, but I guess I'll never know.<br />****In my defense, I was listening to a lot of music at the time, trying to find songs for my students in the rock genre which I hadn't had as much formal experience with. I knew that I liked their harmonies. Would I still say that their harmonies are what made their songs catchy? I guess that would depend on how pretentious I was feeling that day.<br />*****Somewhat surprisingly, this one never really caught on.******<br />******Yes, I know these are out of order. It's called revising and rewriting.*******<br />*******(And being too lazy to re-asterisk your footnotes).<br />********Bam! Full circle!<br />*********And by "Straighter," I mean, "More heterosexual." In case anyone was wondering.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-35548927254107727642009-08-04T21:21:00.000-07:002009-08-04T21:25:41.456-07:00Ten on Tuesday: I1: Incomplete - See this list. We'll see you at <span style="font-style: italic;">J</span>!*<br /><br />*Yes, I know this is a cop-out.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-10711402539393142652009-07-28T00:01:00.000-07:002009-07-28T13:03:17.733-07:00Ten on Tuesday: H1: Highlander - There (and it) can only be one.<br /><br />2: Handwriting - When I was in elementary school, it was not uncommon for me to get, when the report cards came around, all <em>A</em>s and then one lousy <em>B- </em>or <em>C</em> in handwriting/penmanship. I'm just saying, I was valedictorian for both junior high and high school, but I wasn't even in the running in grade school because of my handwriting. I think I was relatively pleased about this in sixth grade because I didn't really want to give a speech anyway. Still, in retrospect, it would have been nice to pull off the trifecta.<br /><br />3: Humility - As you can see from #2, I embody this principle.<br /><br /><br />4: Helen of Troy - From my fractured remembrance of history/mythology, I find it fascinating that this woman was supposedly so beautiful that men would bring armies to fight over her. One would think somewhere down the chain of command, one of the grunts would have thought, "Hmm, the possibility of my imminent and immediate death kind of outweighs how much I care about my boss's boss's boss getting a girlfriend. Hey guys! Let's just go get gyros!"<br /><br /><br />5: Herbivore's Dilemma, The - They don't realize how delicious meat is.<br /><br /><br />6: H - I think I saw somewhere that the phonetic representation of that letter is "aitch." I have no commentary on this.<br /><br /><br />7: Harry Potter - I have not read any of these books. For some reason, the prospect of a book series really scares me as it is such a commitment. Somehow, it doesn't bother me that I don't finish most books that I start even if they are not part of a series. I have also never read <em>The Chronicles of Narnia</em>. In fact, I think the only book series I ever read all the way through was the <em>My Teacher Is an Alien</em> series back when I was in grade school, which is, as you know, quite high art.<br /><br /><br />8: High Art - What separates high art from low art? I've spent a fair number of hours trying to work out this question. Right now, I'm reading a book called <em>The Necessity of Theater</em> that considers which parts of the human experience should be counted as theatre and which should not, which, in some ways, is a similar question. Though I find his definition a little broad, I think he's touching on some key points, and I'm looking forward to seeing where he goes with his idea.<br /><br />9: Haberdashery - I wish there were more stores that simply sold hats simply because I wish this word were more common.<br /><br />10: How many roads must a man walk down, before you can call him a man? - 7.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-51404949360843600662009-07-21T00:00:00.000-07:002009-07-21T00:00:01.284-07:00Ten on Tuesday: G1: Googleplex <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Carebear</span> - I went on a chorale trip to Hungary and Romania, and in one of those countries, the words for "Thank you" sounded to me a lot like the words googleplex <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">carebear</span>, so that's what I said, oftentimes with a slight lisp. Mostly I think I just said it to my chorale mates. I'd hate to think I'm an ugly American.<br /><br />2: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Gollum's</span> Cave - I did a play version of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Hobbit </span>in which I played the Bilbo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Baggins</span>, who is, you know, the hobbit. Get it? Anyways, there is a part in the show in which Bilbo is supposed to be lost in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Gollum's</span> cave, and he cries out "Is there anyone out there?" I was usually met with silence, but one matinee, I called out, and a little boy responded loudly, "No!" I pretty much broke character at that and had a good laugh. Wouldn't you? <br /><br />3: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Goonies</span> - I have never seen it. I don't know why I have never seen it, but I haven't. Everyone is surprised at this. I am not surprised.<br /><br />4: Goody Wife - This is how I will sometimes refer to my wife. I apparently believe the year to be 1620 and each of my shoes to have a large buckle on top.<br /><br />5: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Groundlings</span> - This is an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">improv</span> group up in L.A. that my wife took me and my brother to go see one time. Many of their cast members go on to be in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">SNL</span>. I would love to take a class from them<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"></span>, but the commute continually proves to be problematic. One day I'll get there.<br /><br />6: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Gramma</span> - When I was littler (read: 14 or 15), I used give my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">gramma</span> some chips, and then, while she was chewing, I would stick the back of my neck under her chin while she chewed because it tickled me. That was funny times, man. I love my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">gramma</span>.<br /><br />7: Grapes - This may be my favorite joke*: A duck walks into a grocery store and asks the cashier, "Got any grapes?" The cashier replies, "Nope, sorry, we don't carry them." The duck says, "Thanks," and leaves.<br />The next day, the duck comes back and says, "Got any grapes?" The cashier looks at him quizzically and replies, "Nope, like I told you yesterday, we don't carry them." The duck says, "Thanks," and leaves.<br />This continues every day that week, until the cashier is wholly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">frusted</span>. On Friday, the duck comes in, but before he can ask, the cashier says, "Listen duck, we don't have any grapes, and if you ask me that one more time, I'm going to nail your bill to my cash register." The duck says, "Thanks," and leaves.<br />The next day the duck walks in and asks the cashier if he has any nails. The cashier, thankful that the duck isn't again asking about grapes, laughs and says, "No, silly duck, this is a grocery store; we don't have any nails." <br />To this news, the duck replies, "Got any grapes?"<br /><br />8: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Golem</span> - In some Jewish folklore, there is a story a man made out of clay called the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">golem</span> who will one day rise up and save the Jewish people and/or destroy the world. A friend and I in junior high thought this (the destroying the world bit) was hilarious and wrote a very short song that we thought the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">golem</span> would sing. It goes, "I am the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">golem</span>, squish your head." With lyric writing like that, I'm not sure how I ended up a music major.<br /><br />9: Groove Daddies - This was a band in my home town while I was in high school. I was in a different band, and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">bandmates</span> and I envisioned a West Side Story standoff between our band and their band. Or, maybe I just envisioned it.<br /><br />10: Grover - No matter what you think about Family Guy, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OTEJrXCKwM">this clip is very funny</a>. Okay, at least it's kind of funny. Okay, it's not really funny at all, but I needed a #10. Okay, I didn't really need a #10, because I was going to do this top nine list like Buttercup does over on her blog, but I thought better of myself.<br /><br />*My new favorite joke is in the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">Up</span> and it is told by a talking dog**. It goes something like, what did the squirrel say to the tree? It said, "Oh tree, I forgot to harvest my acorns in you during the summer and now it is winter and I am dead."<br />**Spoiler alert! Sorry, I should have put that first.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-23828061621161644052009-07-14T10:12:00.000-07:002009-07-14T10:51:37.744-07:00Ten on Tuesday: F<a href="http://www.bigbendgallery.com/uploads/files/far-side.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 375px" alt="" src="http://www.bigbendgallery.com/uploads/files/far-side.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>1: Far Side - Gary Larson is a funny man.</div><br /><div></div><br /><p>2: Facebook - A bucket in which an embarrassing amount of my liquid time goes to die.</p><p>3: Falafel - There was a hamburger(!) place in my home town called King Falafel. They may have also sold falafel, which would make sense, given their name. I didn't like their food when I was a little kid, mostly because it wasn't McDonald's. However, as I aged, I realized how delicious it was. It was like there was a party in my mouth and everybody was invited. Mmm. I wonder if that place is still around.</p><p>4: Fark - Because I am not a good person, I used to write a blog about celebrities (read: celebrity gossip blog) under the assumption that doing so would earn me fame and fortune. One day, one of my stories ended up on <a href="http://www.blogger.com/fark.com">fark.com</a>, which is a kind of news aggregator for weird or offbeat news. Though I usually got 50 visitors a day, that day, I received close to ten thousand. From my advertisements, I received about one dollar and I did not receive any fame. Disenchanted, I closed the site down not too long afterwards.</p><p>5: I'm taking a ride on a Flying Festoon - Just as soon as he learns how to fly.</p><p>6: Friendster - I think this is the only major social networking site that I do not belong to. Apparently I want everybody to be able to find me. What's funny is that when I first started using the internet (circa 1995-6), all that anybody used to say was that you should absolutely not, under any circumstances, put any personal information online. Now it seems like that's all anybody does. It's weird and a bit disturbing.</p><p>7: Fox - This network produces "So You Think You Can Dance," which is my surprise favorite show of the summer. I had been watching "American Idol" pretty faithfully this year, and, when it ended, a buddy of mine said that he liked SYTYCD better than Idol. I checked it out, and I was not disappointed. A key difference between the shows is that to be an amazing dancer, you pretty much have to train your whole life, or at least a goodly portion of it, so in the later rounds of the show, every dancer dances at an expert level; whereas, in singing, a lot of times people just have natural talent, which, while fun to watch, isn't usually as engaging as seeing people doing what they trained their whole lives for. I realize that I seem to cry at the drop of a hat filled with spilled milk*, but I do tend to tear up about once a week. Some of the stuff they do is just beautiful, some of it funny, and some of it spectacular. I recommend it highly.</p><p>8: Fox News - Not that I disagree with them across the board, but it makes me giggle a little bit when I hear them describe themselves as fair and balanced.</p><p>9: Sir John Falstaff - I look forward to learning more about you and the plays you are in.</p><p>10: Form or Function - Oddly, I tend to prefer function.</p><p>*Was the milk spilled into the hat prior to when the hat was dropped? That's up to you to decide.</p>Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-34739295598632378072009-07-11T22:28:00.000-07:002009-07-12T12:58:58.174-07:00A RetrospectiveI.<br />"Pull over."<br />We've hit the border, and we're eager, anxious even. Four hours in a car with the only stop being for a delicious, albeit greasy, breakfast can make a man that way.<br />We get off the freeway and pull into the entrance. There's no parking garage, only a sea of black top; this fact is reinforced as we tumble out of the SUV and the heats blasts us both from above and below. We grab the wrappers and Styrofoam containers -- out with the old, and in with the new -- because we are, if nothing else, polite and excellent car guests. Plus, we don't want any bad juju affecting our luck. Sunglasses are adjusted, and smiles spread like wildfire as we head towards the shade of the entrance.<br />Yes we can, we think; yes we can.<br /><br />II.<br />"We Are the Champions, My Friends."<br />A light show to the music of Queen blinks and pops overhead. We see pictures of Freddie Mercury with his fine moustache. The band hardly ever smiles in its pictures, which is apparently how we are to know that they're cool. They stare at us, unsmiling, and we stare back, jaws slacked and necks arched. In this way, they are different.<br />I look at the people around me. Many are singing along; who doesn't want to be a champion, after all? Or, maybe it should be said, who doesn't want to feel like a champ for a few minutes?<br />Some people are wearing beads, some have their hands clasped together, some have their hands over their back pockets, desperately trying to protect the money they will happily give away in a few minutes to a different type of light show, one with spinning wheels featuring sevens or cherries.<br />But for a moment, monetary concerns are forgotten. The producers have made sure it's loud enough and bright enough to make you forget that this place is one where angels fear to tread.<br /><br />III.<br />"This Is Where I Get It All Back."<br />It's Thursday. For most of us, the places in our wallets that used to be primarily the color of money are now primarily the color of wallet. Still, the one thing we couldn't overlook was one glorious buffet. We get in towards the end of breakfast time so that we pay the breakfast price, but, in a few minutes, we get to eat lunch food too. It's the best of both worlds.<br />"I question your manliness if you don't eat at least five plates, I know I'm planning to; this is where I get it all back."<br />There are laughs and general agreement with this notion. It should be noted that the excuse for the trip was a weight loss contest, and that excuse is nowhere more flimsy then when you consider that this is the third all-you-can-eat buffet that we've been to in a twenty-four hour period. I'm not sure that you'd call us gluttons, but I suspect that that is mostly because you're polite.<br />"Oh, by the way J, when you take us back to our hotel, would you mind stopping on the strip for a few minutes? I placed a bet yesterday on the Padres game, and I won. Let's just say that it's time for Caeser to render unto me."<br /><br />IV.<br />"I Thought We Were Playing 26."<br />Now it's just my brother and I. The rest have started the trek back through the desert. My boss asked me to attend a meeting in San Francisco on Friday, and it seemed like a great idea a few weeks ago to stay an extra day with my brother, and then fly to San Fran direct from Vegas; now that I'm down to my last twenty I've budgeted for the trip, I'm questioning the wisdom of that decision. Nevertheless, here we are in Rome so we go and do as the Romans do by hitting a blackjack table on the way back to the room. I float my twenty down to the table and receive four five dollar chips in return. My brother does the same. We look at each other and think maybe this table will be different.<br />We sit there for a few minutes, winning and losing, winning and losing, until my brother has had enough, and he sticks his twenty in chips into the betting circle. He draws a seventeen to the dealer's twenty.<br />I tell him I'll do the same thing and then either cash out or head back to the room. My first two cards equal 12. I'll need a small card. Hit me.<br />I draw a two. Dang. Too small. 14. Hit me.<br />I draw an ace. 15. Hilarious. Hit me.<br />Another ace. 16. I'm having trouble remembering why I enjoy this game. Hit me.<br />26. Too many.<br />I thank the dealer (if nothing else, I'm polite, remember?), and I walk the walk of shame back to the room. I'd say it could have been worse, but when you lose all the money you've budgeted, well, that's about as bad as it gets, right? Only then do I remember that I still don't get to see my wife for another day. I guess it can always get worse.<br /><br />V.<br />"Walk Like a Man, Talk Like a Man."<br />That night, my brother and I get dressed up to go see a show. We decided on <span style="font-style: italic;">Jersey Boys</span>, which is a retelling of the story of Frankie Valli and the Four Season. It won the Tony for Best Musical in 2006. I've been wanting to see it since then, and it doesn't disappoint.<br />Perhaps the most interesting part of the evening is how the crowd cheers for each new song the actors sing. Remember, the people singing are not the real people the show is based on. These people are cheering for fakes. I remember back to the Queen show a few nights before, and I am amazed at how much this music, that I had always thought was kind of silly due to the sky-high falsetto of Valli, means to these people.<br />Nevertheless, by the end, I too get lost in the songs and the stories of the songs and I'm having to hold back tears. The ideas in these songs are so pure and genuine, it's hard not to get lost in them. Falling in love. Falling out of love. Encouragement to be the best person you can be.<br />All this time, I've missed the forest of the human experience detailed in these songs for the trees of that once silly, now haunting falsetto voice.<br />I leave feeling better about life, and those I meet in it.<br /><br />VI.<br />"What the Deuce?"<br />My brother and I took a bus (called the Deuce) down to the strip to see the show. Now, three hours past the show's end and two buses filled past capacity that we cannot therefore get on, our spirits are, to say the least, a little sour.<br />All the walking on that hot desert night while trying to find transportation back to our hotel has made us thirsty, so we hit a Subway sandwich shop at the base of a hotel to get a couple of Cokes. They are icy and spicy and delicious, and we greedily drink. We walk along the base of the hotel, and pass a lounge that has dueling piano players. Our feet are tired, so we sit and hope again for musical respite, and we are not disappointed. First comes the unmistakable instrumental solo, then, "She's just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world..."<br />I smile from ear to ear. This song used to crack me up in its pure eighties-ness, but now I just love it. I look at my bro, and he smiles too. I won't stop believing.<br /><br />VII.<br />"Leaving, On a Jet Plane, Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again."<br />Sometimes, the takeoffs are rough. Sometimes, the plane seems like it's losing power in the engine closest to you as the plane feels like it's slowing down after takeoff, which doesn't feel like a good thing. Sometimes, you wish you would have told your brother when you hugged goodbye at the airport to tell your wife you love her. On Friday morning, all those things happened to me. As you may have ascertained, I got through it.<br />I look out my window at the sprawling desert community. The television had a lot of commercials for lawyers offering legal aid for people who had been foreclosed upon. I wonder how many of the houses below me are still occupied, and a wave of gratitude washes over me for the fact that I've got a home and beautiful wife to come back to.<br />I'm happy this part of the trip is over, and I'm more happy that the plane has started to speed up, and I'm most happy that I hear that engine going again.<br />I chose to wear a suit today, though it will be a little fancy for the meeting. The suit I'm wearing has alternating black fabric running in vertical lines. Amazon had a deal on suits, and I wanted one for the trip so I could pretend to be a high roller. Once in Vegas, though, I opted to save it for my flight out. Even though I hadn't earned a million dollars, I wanted to feel like one.<br /><br />VIII.<br />"You Are My Sunshine."<br />My meeting was a breeze. It was in regards to a monthly report, and all that was basically said was that we should continue to do it the same way. It took two and a half hours to say that, but still, it's nice to know that there won't be extra work.<br />I haul my luggage back to the BART station to head back to the airport, and the train is packed. I stand and try not to fall over during its brisk starts and stops. After a few stops, however, people get off, and I am able to find a seat.<br />At the next stop, a family of three gets on. The third is a little girl, who can't be much more than four or five, and she is a happy little girl. Her mother tells her to sit on a seat by herself with her little pink suitcase, and she obeys right away. She then starts carefully zipping and unzipping the sides with a huge smile on her face. I can't remember the last time I was so unabashedly happy at such a small situation.<br />The parents are talking; the mom says something about New Orleans and how she'd like to go there for her birthday. The man seems like he suspects it won't happen, but he gives the standard "Oh, okay" response that comes printed on the back of the man-card the federation sends you when you hit puberty. The woman lowered her head and looked at the man with a tone of voice that said, "We'll just see about that."<br />The woman looks over at the little girl and smiles, and she is right to do so. I hope my daughter is half as cute. Then the mom, in a voice as thin as paper, starts to sing:<br /><br />"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,<br />You make me happy, when skies are gray..."<br /><br />At this point the daughter starts to sing along:<br /><br />"You'll never know dear, how much I love you,<br />Please don't take my sunshine away."<br /><br />My mom used to sing that song to me. Fortunately, I'm wearing my big sunglasses, so folks don't notice when my eyes well up.<br />I used to excuse people when they did bad things under the assumption that everybody was just trying to do the best they could with what they had. I don't think I believe that across the board anymore, but here, in my little corner of the universe, in the back of that BART train, I was reminded that sometimes, just sometimes, it was still true. Sometimes, people do nice things just to have done something nice. Now that's a human experience I can get behind.<br /><br />IX.<br />"Where Are You?"<br />I'm on the ground in San Diego waiting for my wife to pull up. The traffic is horrible, and people like to drive stupidly at the airport. Oddly enough, that second parts seems to have a direct correlation on the first.<br />I see my wife has called me on my phone. I didn't hear it ring, even though I had set it to loud. I call her back, and she asks me where I am. In just a minute, she pulls up, and she is all smiles. So am I. <br />So am I.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-35816620334801170062009-07-05T21:44:00.000-07:002009-07-05T22:14:39.861-07:00Ten on Tuesday: E (Two Days Early; Deal With It)1: Early - On Tuesday, I will be picked up from my apartment at 4:30 in the morning for a fun-filled trip to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Las</span> Vegas. Now that is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">determination</span>.<br /><br />2: Evelyn Waugh - I read a dual biography (primarily during a stint where I was called for jury duty but didn't get assigned a case) of Waugh and George Orwell a few months ago. The book included a story about how, during World War II, fruits were rationed, and the Waugh family received just a few bananas one month. Evelyn called his family to the table, and then proceeded to eat the entire family's rations of bananas. All I could think was, if I were a man named Evelyn, I'd probably be a cranky curmudgeon as well.<br /><br />3: Eggs - I had a hard time eating eggs as a kid because I thought it was really weird that they went from being a liquid when freshly cracked to being a solid when cooked. Think about it. It's gross. I still have a hard time with it.<br /><br />4: <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Existentialism</span> - How many <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">existentialists</span> does it take to screw in a light bulb? Fish.<br /><br />5: Eels - On my honeymoon, my wife and I briefly saw an eel while snorkeling. Fortunately for my sense of terror, my wife, while snorkeling, had taken to singing through her snorkel. She's a funny lady, and never too non-plussed about immediate doom.<br /><br />6: Eleven - July 11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">th</span> is 7/11 Day, and it is also <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">International</span> A.C. Day, and my beautiful wife makes it a point to make that day special for me. Please note the July 11 is not my birthday, she's just a sweetie that way. Please also note that one year she had me kidnapped, which I guess goes to show that sometimes people have different ideas of what "fun" is.<br /><br />7: Eclipse - This was my little brother's nickname in football in high school. Pretty cool, right? You know what my nickname was? Linus. NOT COOL AT ALL! Thank you very much musical theatre!<br /><br />8: Egg <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Nog</span> - <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Surprisingly</span>, though eggs are always weird for me, I loves me some egg <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">nog</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Mmm</span>. Delicious.<br /><br />9: Egypt - Over the weekend, the wife and I went to the King Tut exhibit up in San Francisco, only to find out that none of Tut's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">sarcophagi</span> were on display. There was, however, some other lady's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">sarcophagus</span> on display (his possible grandmother, I think). Overall, it was a very interesting afternoon, but what is the first thing that you think of when you think of King Tut? Those golden coffins with the smiling faces, right? I'm just saying, it was a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">disappointing</span>.<br /><br />10: Edgar Allen Poe - In college, I did an arrangement for Poe's poem "Annabel Lee." It would be a lot cooler if I could link to a recording of that right now, as opposed to doing nothing, which is what I will do, but I don't have it with me. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Nevertheless</span>, I shall try to upload for you all. Prepare to have your minds blown by how awesome it is.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-39140582911599590982009-06-29T21:10:00.000-07:002009-06-30T09:51:05.924-07:00Ten on Tuesday: D1: Deliberate - I think one of the most beautiful parts of being human is a deliberate act of kindness, either ones that catches you unawares by someone else or one that you have planned for someone else. It always makes me tear up when it happens in the movies (an example is in <em>Stranger Than Fiction</em> when Will Ferrell's character is in love with a baker, and he brings her flours, as opposed to flowers).<br /><br />2: Dog - I find that I can gauge how well I am doing as a person by how well I treat my little dog Scrabble.<br /><br />3: DRW - These are my dad's, my older brother's, and his first son's initials. My grandpa's initials were DW. I think that's pretty cool.<br /><br />4: Drains - Useful or not, I still think it's hilarious that people buy drain cleaners and then literally pour their purchase down the drain.<br /><br />5: David Foster Wallace - There is a portion of <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Infinite Jest</span>, approximately pages 17-27, that chronicles an addict waiting for a drug dealer. The way it was written perfectly describes the neurosis of somebody trying to hide something that he desperately wants coupled with the anxiety that accompanies anticipation. In this section you really know you're reading the writing of a genius.<br /><br />6: Dagwood's - There used to a be a restaurant near Pismo Beach called Dagwood's, the name of which was in reference to the husband in the comic strip <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blondie_(comic_strip)">Blondie</a> (per that link, that strip has been running forever! Also, there was a Blondie series of movies in the 30's and 40's. And here I thought Hollywood was having a hard time come up with new ideas nowadays). I only ever ate there once, but the place stuck in my head because you were encouraged to shoot toothpicks into the ceiling, by means of placing them in one end of your straw and then blowing forcefully into the other end. I suppose their closure is a mystery no one will ever possibly discern.<br /><br />7: Ducktales - This is one of the only games I ever managed to beat on the old Nintendo Entertainment System when I was a kid. (Woo-oo).<br /><br />8: Deo - Me say De-e-e-o; day light come and me want to go home.<br /><br />9: Desktop - I recently gave my old desktop to Best Buy to be recycled. I got that computer right before I entered college (in the year 2000, for those keeping score at home), and it was good to me. Of course, it was woefully outdated; computing with that computer was like going to a tank fight armed only with a spear (Windows 98? 128 MB of RAM?) Nevertheless, it was surprisingly hard to get rid of. Even after I left it there, I kept asking my wife if I should go get it back somehow, perhaps by means of a courageous break-in or heist. My impulse to hoard useless things continues to surprise me, and I was definitely in a worser (sadder) mood after getting rid of it; maybe I'll end up a curmudgeon (!) after all.<br /><br />10: Drama - What an interesting thing to get a degree in. Perhaps I should look into that.<br /><br />Finally, and in honor of the trip I'm taking next week, here's something that makes me laugh:<br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jf89N1_uz_A&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jf89N1_uz_A&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-40363651760641861582009-06-29T10:02:00.000-07:002009-06-30T09:31:25.469-07:00A Public ServiceSo...the wife and I nearly got scammed on Craigslist, and I wanted to put this out on the internet so that people could maybe search and find it.<br /><br />It started because we, in an effort to pare down, are trying to sell our exercise machine. It cost us a few hundred bucks, so we're trying to sell it for about that. You can imagine how excited we were to get the following email:<br /><blockquote>"Hello, I saw your posting and i seems to have found what i am looking for, I<br />will be purchasing this from you if its still available for sale, kindly let me<br />know ASAP.regards."</blockquote><br />Sure, the guy's English is bad, but he seems to pretty assuredly want it. Right on! I wrote him back to tell him we'd be home all day Sunday so he could come back and pick it up whenever suited him. This was his response:<br /><br /><blockquote><p>"Thank for the prompt response my secretary will process and mail<br />acertified draft to cover the cost as am completely satisfied with it.I<br />will need the details of whom & where to mail the payment</p><p>1.Name to be on the check</p><p>2.Home address</p><p>3.Mobile #</p><p>Please note 'United Parcel Service' do not deliver to P.O.Boxaddresses and i will not be mailing a draft to one. My mover will becoming over for the pick up right only after the payment as beendelivered and cleared. Kindly delete the posting as am totallycommitted to buyingfrom you to save cost,.. Here is my relay phone # is (210) 209-8524drop message, i will receive your phone messages via email, regards."</p></blockquote><br />Hmm. This is definitely a little off-putting. However, I was still pretty stoked to unload the exercise machine. I didn't really want to send him my address, but I figured he was going to need it if his "mover" was going to come pick it up, so I sent it to him and awaited a response. Please note that Craigslist advises you never to accept checks or money orders in that they can usually be faked pretty easily, so I should have called it off right here, but I suspended my disbelief in the hopes of paring down.<br /><br />Nevertheless, the guy could have probably gotten me pretty easily had he not gotten too greedy in his next email:<br /><blockquote>"I since receive the confirmation from my Secretary,that the paymentas been<br />issued out and was mailed by the United Parcel Service. itwill be<br />delivered to your address one business day from now accordingto the courier ,but<br />to my greatest surprise the draft was issued outfor the sum of $2425 instead of<br />the actual cost of my purchase .Sheclaimed that i requested for that amount to<br />be issued out to you butam very sure i only made a request for just the cost of<br />mypurchase.This is a terrible mistake and i was just informed about thisso<br />please once the check is delivered please take it to your Bank andhave it<br />cashed .<br /><br />You will then deduct the cost of my purchase plus an extra $100<br />tooffset the cost of your run around expenses.The rest of the fundshould be sent<br />to my mover via western union the same day youreceive the payment so that<br />my mover can make the trip over for thepick up at once.<br /><br />**I will need you immediate response via email assuring me that i<br />cantrust you to handle this with utmost care and have the remaining<br />fundreturned appropriately as requested and will hope that your<br />intentionsremains noble though out the duration of this transaction**"<br /></blockquote><br />Sounds pretty sweet right? Not only do I get to sell my machine, but I get an extra hundred bucks for my trouble?<br /><br />As you can imagine, the alarms were really going off at this point in my head, so I headed over to the Craigslist scams page, where I was informed not to accept checks, avoid doing business through the mail, and to NEVER use Western Union, all of which he had advised me to do. So I wrote him back and told him that I would mail his check back to him, and, if he still really wanted it, he could have his "mover" come and pay me in cash.<br /><br />Lessons learned:<br />1) When seling on Craigslist, beware of things that seem too good to be true.<br />2) If the language the prospective buyer is writing in sounds the same as a spam email, it's probably not reputable.<br />3) If the buyer doesn't even mention the item by name in the body of his emails, it's probably some sort of form letter used to scam lots of people.<br /><br />In retrospect, I should have caught on earlier, but I really wanted to get rid of the darn thing. Also, I left his phone number in this post in case anybody googles it, and here's his email address and the name on his email: <a href="mailto:felixarry001@gmail.com">felixarry001@gmail.com</a> and jeff sandsnow (it is uncapitalized).<br /><br />This is a different sort of post than I usually do, but I hope it proves useful for someone.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-10934255307071420922009-06-28T23:43:00.000-07:002009-06-29T00:04:52.877-07:00The Last One About The Pens (Until the Next One)I had a whole big post planned about how happy I was to get the five pounds of pens, but for several reasons I never got around to it. So, instead, I will simply post the pictures that were to accompany that post for your viewing "enjoyment." Please disregard the poor quality of the pictures (which I feel adds to the overall impressionism of the piece) as well as the rip in my shorts (which I feel adds to the overall short-sightedness of the piece).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhkWWRxr0I/AAAAAAAAAGk/T3_mgIynfyA/s1600-h/014.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhkWWRxr0I/AAAAAAAAAGk/T3_mgIynfyA/s320/014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352638492229873474" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhkeE69_BI/AAAAAAAAAGs/LUyw5t7qJEM/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhkeE69_BI/AAAAAAAAAGs/LUyw5t7qJEM/s320/015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352638625009761298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhk5RTamSI/AAAAAAAAAHE/b-QBvC8E_2k/s1600-h/016.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhk5RTamSI/AAAAAAAAAHE/b-QBvC8E_2k/s320/016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352639092189993250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlBGLxThI/AAAAAAAAAHM/-dmnpf47MzQ/s1600-h/017.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlBGLxThI/AAAAAAAAAHM/-dmnpf47MzQ/s320/017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352639226644090386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlKVv4rmI/AAAAAAAAAHU/UQX71put6hg/s1600-h/018.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlKVv4rmI/AAAAAAAAAHU/UQX71put6hg/s320/018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352639385440923234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlTgyxX3I/AAAAAAAAAHc/47-IE5QSJHQ/s1600-h/019.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlTgyxX3I/AAAAAAAAAHc/47-IE5QSJHQ/s320/019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352639543024639858" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlbRk8YGI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Ju8tBav4yik/s1600-h/020.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhlbRk8YGI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Ju8tBav4yik/s320/020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352639676379062370" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhlj77vInI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6PY5XduxBtU/s1600-h/022.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhlj77vInI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6PY5XduxBtU/s320/022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352639825187906162" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhluV7L8WI/AAAAAAAAAH0/dv3u36j0ZtI/s1600-h/023.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhluV7L8WI/AAAAAAAAAH0/dv3u36j0ZtI/s320/023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352640003963613538" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhl3Z3xLFI/AAAAAAAAAH8/I0F9vXRMOsI/s1600-h/024.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhl3Z3xLFI/AAAAAAAAAH8/I0F9vXRMOsI/s320/024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352640159641840722" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhl_J-mMnI/AAAAAAAAAIE/G14BHFOnZT8/s1600-h/025.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhl_J-mMnI/AAAAAAAAAIE/G14BHFOnZT8/s320/025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352640292814467698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhmHpFlwzI/AAAAAAAAAIM/oI41CDMrMiA/s1600-h/026.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhmHpFlwzI/AAAAAAAAAIM/oI41CDMrMiA/s320/026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352640438604251954" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhmYNWHa9I/AAAAAAAAAIU/X8OahEAykXs/s1600-h/027.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/SkhmYNWHa9I/AAAAAAAAAIU/X8OahEAykXs/s320/027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352640723215150034" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhmh0Lm6LI/AAAAAAAAAIc/fGB91y8plyU/s1600-h/028.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhmh0Lm6LI/AAAAAAAAAIc/fGB91y8plyU/s320/028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352640888258881714" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhm4hfEY5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/eYBGBAsgj70/s1600-h/030.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b90j_7F4hXk/Skhm4hfEY5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/eYBGBAsgj70/s320/030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352641278377223058" border="0" /></a><br />It's a lot of pens! Get it?Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-44145717355993324042009-06-23T09:58:00.000-07:002009-06-23T10:39:08.502-07:00Ten on Tuesday: C1: Chargers (the San Diego variety) - Some season they'll go all the way. Will it be this one? I hope so!<br /><br />2: Cupcakes - My wife has an affinity for purchasing cupcakes from cupcake boutiques in downtown San Diego, and I must admit that I am growing rather fond of the little guys (not that I ever disliked them, per se). How can I not like a store that makes cupcakes for dogs?<br /><br />3: Check Requests - <a href="http://analystcatalyst.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-regular-regulator.html">They can be a dangerous (and melodramatic) affair</a>.<br /><br />4: Chantilly Lace - And a pretty face. And a pony tail. Hanging down.<br /><br />5: Coldstone Creamery - An entirely delicious place until the guy making your ice cream coughs on it. Then it's just mostly delicious.*<br /><br />6: Comedy - My cubicle neighbor is currently laughing pretty hysterically, and when he was queried as to why, he pointed at the television which is showing an Obama press conference. I guess I just don't get it.<br /><br />7: Coupons - I browse deal sites on the web like crocodiles capture gazelles: swiftly and without mercy.** As an example, I got a pair of Oakleys a few days ago for a reasonable price (which is pretty unheard of as nearly everything Oakley makes is sold for an unreasonable price -- Thank you REI closeout sale!). As another example, I love taking my 40% coupons that I find into Borders and slapping it down on the counter with such force as if to say, "Hey! I am a crafty consumer!" Also, we all remember the drama of the <a href="http://analystcatalyst.blogspot.com/2009/01/unreasonable.html">five pounds of pens</a>.<br /><br />8: "Consider the Lobster" - This is an essay that David Foster Wallace*** (an admitted meat eater) wrote for <em>Gourmet</em> magazine (which concerns itself with the preparation and enjoyment of delicious food) about whether it is a morally defensible position to boil lobsters alive (which is the preferred method of cooking them). <em>Gourmet</em> has it <a href="http://www.gourmet.com/magazine/2000s/2004/08/consider_the_lobster">posted at this link if you'd like to read it</a>, though it is split up over ten separate web pages, which makes getting back and forth between the end notes and the essay a cumbersome affair. While I do not consider myself an animal rights activist, this essay certainly makes me consider, at the very least, if there aren't more humane ways to prepare them.<br /><br />9: Connecticut - Definitely my least favorite state to prepare reports for. Their commission is unreasonable and ridiculous.<br /><br />10: Curmudgeon - This is a funny word that doesn't get enough play, in my opinion. To help rectify this situation, I'll try to use it in my next five posts.<br /><br />*True story. I was so grossed out, I only ate most of it.****<br />**That simile got a lot more violent that I intended it to.<br />***I am currently working on his magnum opus <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0316066524?ie=UTF8&tag=analycatal-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0316066524">Infinite Jest</a><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; MARGIN: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" height="1" alt="" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=analycatal-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0316066524" width="1" border="0" />. </em>My interest was inspired mostly by the website <a href="http://www.blogger.com/infinitesummer.org">infinitesummer.org</a>. The book is strange and non-linear and wonderful so far.<br />****It didn't help that what I ordered had both caramel sauce and fudge, both of which have a texture not so different from what people cough up.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21118341.post-32405307712081811552009-06-17T15:33:00.001-07:002009-06-17T16:03:28.510-07:00Two Shorts Films About AC1. I have a friend who comes and visits me from time to time. Usually, the time we spend together is concluded by his coming to lunch downtown on a workday, after which we head off our separate ways. On one such lunch engagement, we had eaten like Vikings minus the horns, and I suggested that we also head off to Ghirardelli's for dessert, because, really, who wants to go back to work after a heavy lunch? It's much finer to daydream and go for strolls while stuffed to the gills than it is to stare at spreadsheets.<br /><br />As we started walking towards the ice cream shop, we started to think better of ourselves. We were already stuffed past contentment. My friend jokingly posed the question, "AC, how fat do I want to be?" We turned around, and headed back to the car.<br /><br />2. There is a fellow who, while not being a bad guy necessarily, has fairly antithetical views from my own on the answer to life, the universe, and everything.* As luck would have it, I am around him nearly every day. As such, we converse from time to time, about current events and pop culture mostly, but I am frequently left aggravated. Here are a couple of quotes that I hope will give you an idea of his personality:<br /><br /> A. "The thing about football is that you're usually just rooting for the uniforms nowadays, what with the players switching teams so frequently because they only care about the money."<br /> B. "I don't really like team sports anymore; now I'm into tennis."<br /> C. "I'm not really impressed by the Beatles. I don't know what people see in them."<br /><br />His attitude may be in earnest, but it seems to me that he likes to dislike things that are popular for the sake of being different.** Now, while I am not always a beacon of hope and light, I feel that he is driven by a pessimistic cynicism, and this cynicism kind of drags me down. That is to say, it makes me cranky; all sarcasm and no optimism makes AC a cranky boy. It's gotten to the point that I secretly despise how he eats his yogurt (why does he fill it so full?), which, I'm sure you'll all agree, is an absolutely unreasonable reaction.<br /><br />I am fairly surprised at this mindset I have developed. I am generally a pretty even-keel, go with the flow sort of person, so I look with some wonder upon my mindset. <br /><br />As I ruminated on this this afternoon, I remembered that first story, and I had to ask myself, "AC, how cranky do I want to be?" The answer is not at all. <br /><br />Now I've just got to figure out how to walk away.<br /><br />*I say it's 42.<br />**This is a fault I also see in myself from time to time. Maybe that's why it bugs me so much.Analyst Catalysthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920558121494608363noreply@blogger.com1