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October 31, 2006
Take a look at yourself
I read a pretty cool story in the Tribune today that suggests elephants are one of the few animals that know they are looking at themselves in the mirror, and not another animal:
If you're Happy and you know it, pat your head. That, in a peanut shell, is how a 34-year-old female Asian elephant in the Bronx Zoo showed researchers that pachyderms can recognize themselves in a mirror complex behaviour observed in only a few other species.
The test results suggest elephants or at least Happy are self- aware. The ability to distinguish oneself from others had been shown only in humans, chimpanzees and, to a limited extent, dolphins.
That self-recognition may underlie the social complexity seen in elephants, and could be linked to the empathy and altruism that the big-brained animals have been known to display, said researcher Diana Reiss, of the Wildlife Conservation Society, which manages the Bronx Zoo.
In a 2005 experiment, Happy faced her reflection in an 8-by-8- foot mirror and repeatedly used her trunk to touch an "X" painted above her eye. The elephant could not have seen the mark except in her reflection. Furthermore, Happy ignored a similar mark, made on the opposite side of her head in paint of an identical smell and texture, that was invisible unless seen under black light.
Personally, if I was an elephant, the first thing I would do is find a way to get the zookeepers to help me out so that I'm not standing in my own shit all day.
Posted at 08:47 PM | Comments (1)
Learn to park
About 10:30 last night, I was on my way home from seeing Christy when I got my car to my street and began the arduous task of looking for a parking spot. I came upon this sight:

I don't know how well you can see this, but these are two cars parked just far enough apart that another car wouldn't be able to fit it in the space. In essence, one of these guys parked so that one whole parking spot was eliminated. You can't see in the picture, but the car in front had about five feet in front of it and the car in back had about three feet; thus, somebody parked rather stupidly. I even tried to fit my car into the spot, but there was barely not enough space. I gave the front fellow's bumper a good workover in the process.
This is what I refer to as "poor space management." Every so often I'll be looking for a place to park or walking down the street when I see cars parked in such a way that a whole other potential parking spot is neutralized. Sometimes there'll be room for two cars, but one car will be parked right in the middle; another time there will be a big "no parking here to corner" sign, but a car will be parked 6 feet in front of the sign so another car would be way into the forbidden zone. My favorite is when somebody parks next to a parking meter instead of behind it.
I really hate this. I think it's inconsiderate and mean. Now, I know that many times a messed up parking job is a function of other cars leaving and making spaces that weren't there before, or having to park stupidly because other cars are parked stupidly. But I also know other times people just park like oafs, either intentionally or unintentionally, though I suspect many times it's unintentional.
In my picture above, the car in front could have parked two feet further up the street, and there would be a whole other parking space there, instead of the tempting pseudo-space that many people tried to fit there car into. I don't think it's too much to ask that when parking your car, you should make an effort to save other parking spots by your car. It's a common courtesy, especially when you live i n a neighborhood where parking is scarce.
Posted at 03:27 PM | Comments (0)
Egads
I hadn't watched the Daily Show in a few weeks, but when I heard they were spending the whole week broadcasting from Columbus, I made a point to watch. It did not disappoint. The first few minutes were spent making fun of Ohio (and its plethora of Applebee's), but just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, it did.
Samantha Bee was interviewing Ohio Rep. Dan Stewart, and she asked him to say something interesting about Ohio. He had nothing, and then all of a sudden yells "O-H!" and then says some more about "The" Ohio State University.
Now I think one of my main complaints about living in Columbus was that it was Ohio State all day, every day. I could wake up in April and see something in the newspaper about the damn Buckeyes. So I was mildly perturbed to see a political figure unable to say anything nice about Columbus other than it's where the Buckeyes play. I mean, dammit, there are other things to do there besides watch the Buckeyes, talk about the Buckeyes, think about the Buckeyes, or bitch about Michigan. But you wouldn't know it, because everybody from Columbus is incapable of going 30 seconds without wanting to talk about Jim Tressel's sweater.
Anyway, that Applebee's thing was funny. Oh yes.
Posted at 09:40 AM | Comments (0)
October 30, 2006
Definitely a folly
Back in Ohio, one of the great collectible items are Longaberger baskets. My mom loves these things, and she has a pretty big collection of them. I have to say, as far as baskets go, they are pretty neat. But, I don't really have much of a use for baskets, unless I am going on a picnic.
So, Longaberger Baskets has its headquarters in Newark, a rathole of a town about 30 minutes north of Lancaster. Well it's not really a rathole, but Lancaster and Newark or sort of rivals, so I have to say that. As you probably know, people from Lancaster pronounce it "Lane-kiss-ter," but people from Newark pronounce their town in an even more stupid way: Nerk. So when you make fun of the way I say Lancaster, be glad I'm not from Newark.
Anyway, as I was saying, Longaberger has its headquarters in Newark. They have a peculiar building, and I am of the opinion that its an eyesore:
It's a giant basket! Who came up with this idea? That thing was impressive maybe the first time I saw it, and then after that, I was merely annoyed by it. So the reason I am writing this is because there's a name for stupid buildings like this: folly architecture. Of course, many buildings dubbed follies eventually become famous and renowned, such as the Eiffel Tower. But the giant basket? Not so much.
Posted at 04:56 PM | Comments (0)
October 27, 2006
It's a total eclipse
Speaking of the 80's, I've definitely been on a corny 80's song kick lately. Presumbly, when these songs came out they were taken seriously, but now I love them because they are so campy and just scream 1980's. I'm talking, of course, about Journey's Don't Stop Believing - which was the Cleveland Indians' song last year before AJ Pierzynski stole it; It's Raining Men, and two Bonnie Tyler classics: Total Eclipse of the Heart and Holding Out For A Hero.
I think it's pretty obvious why Total Eclipse of the Heart is popular:
Holding Out For a Hero has a special place in my heart, as well. Short Circuit 2 was a silly movie I used to love watching back in the day, and in the climactic scene, Johnny 5 chases the villain to that song. Let me tell you, that brings back some memories. (See about 4:50 into this Johnny 5 revenge montage):
Posted at 01:34 PM | Comments (0)
I'm so excited
You know, I never really watched Saved by the Bell that much when I was a kid, but I sort of wish I did if only because of this scene, wherein Jesse Spano's caffeine pill addiction finally takes its horrible toll:
Posted at 01:32 PM | Comments (0)
Call me weird
You know something? I really like the national anthem of Israel. I think it's a pretty melody, and well, it just SOUNDS like it should be Israel's national anthem. However, I don't like it so much of Barbra Streisand is singing it.
I'm also a fan of O Canada (and not simply because I love Canada). However, I will also admit that there are times in this life of mine when nothing hits the spot quite like a well-done version of the Star Spangled Banner. Count me as one of those people who thinks our National Anthem should always be that song - even if it's tough to sing.
Posted at 12:10 AM | Comments (1)
October 26, 2006
No fun
Why yes, you can prove lots of things with science and math. This includes disproving the idea of vampires!
University of Central Florida physics professor Costas Efthimiou's work debunks pseudoscientific ideas, such as vampires and zombies, in an attempt to enhance public literacy. Not only does the public believe in such topics, but the percentages are at dangerously high level, Efthimiou told LiveScience.
Legend has it that vampires feed on human blood and once bitten a person turns into a vampire and starts feasting on the blood of others.
Efthimiou's debunking logic: On Jan 1, 1600, the human population was 536,870,911. If the first vampire came into existence that day and bit one person a month, there would have been two vampires by Feb. 1, 1600. A month later there would have been four, and so on. In just two-and-a-half years the original human population would all have become vampires with nobody left to feed on.
Good show! Of course, this feeds on the notion that vampires bite people and those people become vampires when they are bitten. On the other hand, maybe vampires are so rare simply because there are so few people for them to bite. Maybe that is why they have to resort to silly schemes to get people to visit their castles. However, I think it is fair to say there are lots of other people who get their rocks off by drinking blood, sleeping in coffins and living in gothic castles. I am not one of these people.
Posted at 01:49 PM | Comments (0)
October 25, 2006
Father of the year
One of your typical domestic disputes was resolved in court a few days ago:
A Cook County judge has sided with a divorced father who did not want his 9-year-old son circumcised, in a case that has drawn attention from groups opposed to the medical procedure.
Circuit Judge Jordan Kaplan's ruling, issued Tuesday, said the boy can decide for himself when he turns 18. Until then, there will be no circumcision, a surgery that removes the foreskin of the penis.
The boy's parents had feuded over the procedure in court. The couple's 2003 divorce decree gave the father the right to offer advice on medical decisions. When the two disagreed, he sued to block the circumcision.
The father believed circumcision could cause the boy long-term physical and psychological harm. The child's mother wanted the procedure to prevent recurring infections.
Hmm, okay. I wonder what would cause more long-term psychological harm? Getting whacked, or having an argument about getting whacked all over the newspaper so that everyone you know can read it? Then, not only does it go to court, I imagine there was a trial wherein the judge heard evidence about this fellow's little fellow. That sounds pretty psychologically harmful to me.
But, what really strikes me as weird is that this whole dispute comes after the kid begged for help:
Alan Toback, the father's attorney, said the father is extremely happy with the judge's decision and feels he saved part of his son's anatomy.
A telephone call from The Associated Press to the mother's attorney on Tuesday was not immediately returned. The mother had testified that her son suffered five bouts of painful inflammation and had begged her to help him.
Posted at 04:31 PM | Comments (0)
Now that's a pumpkin
This giant pumpkin is in the Foodlife at Water Tower Place. As you can see, it dwarfs Christy. Apparently they are going to carve that thing up this Thursday, but I have to wonder exactly how many people it will take to get all the goop out of the inside. I bet you could drown a person inside that thing!

Posted at 10:24 AM | Comments (0)
October 24, 2006
Yuck!
I am a stupid, stupid man. Christy and I made a bet a few weeks ago regarding the outcome of the Buffalo Bills vs. the Chicago Bears. If you've read this here commentary for any amount of time, you know that I love all things Buffalo, NY. (Well... Not all things.)
Anyway, I bet Christy that if the Bills won, she had to eat ten buffalo wings, which she detests. If the Bears won, I had to eat ten green olives, which I consider a food of the most objectionable variety. It's right up there on my hate-scale with cottage cheese and applesauce. The smell of a green olive makes me gag. I never understood how Christy, this sweet, dainty girl, could put such a thing in her mouth, nor how she could crave olives so much that she squirts olive juice in her martinis.
Well, you probably know what happened in the football game. Christy is never one to forget an opportunity to humiliate me, so last Saturday I finally had to eat my olives. She even had a special t-shirt made for me, and a video camera to record the whole event.
The ten olives sat on the plate, their pimento insides mocking me, waiting for me to consume them. I was shaking in my shoes. I picked the first olive up, considered it for a moment, and then I quickly placed it in my mouth. I chewed it in the back of my mouth, as far away from my tastebuds as I could keep it. I chewed the olive for 45 seconds or so, until I was able to swallow it with one big gulp. I winced when the chewy pimento started to cruch. I hated the idea of having to eat 9 more.
But I did eat 9 more. I drank lots of water, and ate lots of bread in an effort to keep the awful olive taste at bay. I only gagged once, on the fourth olive. But I did it, and it was magnificent. Christy offered me $100 to eat ten more. I didn't hesitate: hell no! I probably wouldn't do it for $1000. All I can say is, there's no way a buffalo wing is as bad as an olive.
Posted at 10:25 AM | Comments (2)
October 23, 2006
The couch pillow
I'm not entirely sure what Christy is trying to pull, but she loves one of the pillows on my bed so much that she just had to have it. So, after some begging and pleading, she finally convinced me to give her this pillow:

We call it the Couch Pillow because it used to be on my couch, and so every time she wanted it she'd have to ask for the couch pillow. I guess I'm allowed to visit the pillow every now and then, but she claims she is going to hide it so that I can't take it back when I come over. Personally I think that's a bit extreme, but hey, she wants the pillow, and I'm going to let her have it. Christy, don't say I never did anything for you!
Posted at 12:33 AM | Comments (1)
October 22, 2006
You F-ing nerd!
I found this on YouTube, and it is just too awesome not to share. I think if you're going to yell "fuck you" at somebody, it HAS to be done with a better ending than "you fucking nerd."
Posted at 08:55 PM | Comments (0)
October 20, 2006
Did you see THAT?
I have to say, Maxim Online occasionally has some good, pure guy stuff on it. Today they have the best horror movie kills, a compendium on ten truly gruesome horror movie deaths. Well, take a look. Some of them are pretty damn gross.
It doesn't have what I consider the most awful thing I've ever seen on film, which is one character's death in Robocop. The character is doused with acid, which starts to dissolve the poor fellow's skin. In obvious pain, the character starts to stumple around, into the path of an oncoming car. I so wish there was some video of this, but this picture summary will have to suffice. Even thinking about this still gives me the willies.
Posted at 01:35 PM | Comments (0)
October 19, 2006
On cookies
After school today, I decided to shimmy over to the White Hen on Chicago Ave, and make a purchase. As I was walking to the store, I observed a 40ish fellow in a conservative suit, long beige coat and a hat like you would see in the 40's, or on top of Jack Abramoff. He didn't look very fun.
I went into White Hen and forgot about him. When I was waiting in line, I looked around and saw the very same man standing in line beside me, his right hand clutching one of these cookies:

If I was going to guess what kind of cookie that guy eats, I didn't think it'd be one of those. He looked boring, bland, kind of boorish. I had him pegged as an oatmeal cookie guy. Oatmeal cookies are cookies for people who don't want to have any fun with their cookies, like that guy. He didn't look fun. Once again, it shows how very little perceptive skill I have. I bet he's a regular old clown normally!
This isn't to disparage oatmeal, mind you. I love oatmeal. It's one of my favorite breakfast foods, or snacks even. But oatmeal in cookie form? No thank you. Know what's worse than an oatmeal cookie? An oatmeal raisin cookie.
Every so often, I will think I am buying a chocolate chip cookie, but in reality it's an oatmeal raisin cookie. When that happens, I make a face and throw the cookie in the garbage. With the price of cookies nowadays, that's usually a waste of $1.50. Everyone is complaining about the rising cost of gas. I want to know why cookies are so damn expensive. With the way things are going with these cookie prices, Mrs. Field probably owns her own private island.
The worst part about this is that White Hen didn't even have what I needed. But at least it gave me an excuse to write about cookies.
Posted at 07:51 PM | Comments (1)
October 18, 2006
Worth a try
Maybe he earns points for creativity, but I doubt it:
One of Oklahoma's nominees for state superintendent of education has proposed a unique idea for protecting students from outbreaks of violence.
Bill Crozier, a Union City Republican going against incumbent Democrat Sandy Garrett, said he believes old textbooks could be used to stop bullets shot from weapons wielded by school intruders.
If elected, he said he would put thick used textbooks under every desk for students to use in self-defense.
Posted at 05:41 PM | Comments (1)
Breath of fresh air
I think it's official: the CTA is a pain in my ass. To wit: yesterday, I get out of class and go hang out in the library for a bit, and do some reading. About 6:15, I roll down to the Chicago Ave. Red Line stop, and wait for the train to come take me home. Fifteen minutes later (with it being rush hour, there should be one every 5-7 minutes), I am still waiting. The platform fills with commuters, until everyone is standing in lines 8 people deep.
A train finally arrives, but it is so full nobody can board it. I see another train coming up right behind it, but that one is too full. I said those immortal words to myself, and decided to take the bus home. If you've been reading, you know what I think about the efficacy of the bus. So, I waited about ten minutes for the bus, and finally one comes. Needless to say, it is too full for anyone to get on. But... Then my savior! Another bus is right behind it, and there is nobody on that one, and that one finally brought me home.
Today, I didn't learn my lesson. Again I got on the bus, and my ride home was going just fine until we got to about Division St., when a homeless man boarded. This wasn't a big deal, but as he passed me, I got a very strong whiff of poop. Lots and lots of poop. The bus soon filled with the stench of stale poop, and it was overwhelming: people put their shirts over their noses; a guy in a tracksuit talking too loudly on the phone complained about it; and more than a few people got off the bus. A few blocks later, the driver pulled over and opened all the windows.
I decided to stick it out, my face crinkled into an unhappy scowl, until finally I got to my stop. Never had I been so happy to breath the dirty, grimy air of the city than when I finally got off that bus.
Posted at 02:43 PM | Comments (0)
October 17, 2006
Going down?
Christy and I went to lovely Cleveland for the wedding of our friends Mike and Katie (congrats you crazy kids!) and we stayed at a cool hotel in downtown Cleveland.
Sunday morning rolled around, and it was time to check out. As we stumbled out of our room in a post-reception stupor, I pressed the down button at the bank of elevators, the button lit up, and we waited for the said elevator to arrive. As we waited, another couple approached and waited for the elevator.
Then, the woman did a thing that always irritates me: she pressed the down button again. Needless to say, it did not make the button light up a second time or brighter or anything like that. I don't know why people do this.
I'm pretty sure I do it sometimes too. But as far as I know, pressing that button again doesn't make the elevator come any faster, or any more urgently. There's no little man who monitors the elevators and notices when the button on one floor gets pressed a bunch of times.
So why do it? Do we think the person before us is an imbecile who can't press elevator buttons? Did the button light up without being pressed in an attempt to fake us out? I don't get it, and I probably never will. To be honest, when I am waiting for the elevator and someone presses the button after I've already clearly pressed it, I take it as a personal affront. If there's a reason other than assuming I don't know how to properly summon an elevator, I'd like to hear it.
Posted at 09:55 PM | Comments (0)
October 16, 2006
Sweet Lou
In other sports news, the Cubs hired Lou Piniella as their manager. This might work; it might not. Nothing has worked for the Cubs for 98 years, but maybe this will. I am not pleased, however, that Lou wants the Cubs to go after Alex Rodriguez.
One of my favorite memories growing up was when the Cincinnati Reds won the 1990 World Series, and that team was managed by Lou Piniella. I am pretty sure that there are certain people who still have a special place in their hearts for Eric Davis (still my all-time favorite player), Todd Benzinger, Jose Rijo, Joe Oliver, Hal Morris, Tom Browning, The Nasty Boys and, of course, Chris Sabo:

Piniella, I think, is pretty famous for his temper. Next year I want to go to Cub games just due to the off chance Lou Piniella might throw a base again:

Posted at 10:58 PM | Comments (1)
Ditka 47, God 0
Apparently the Chicago Bears are pretty good this year. I found this out firsthand when Christy and I went to the Bears/Buffalo Bills game last weekend, and my Bills were trounced. It was not pretty, and I was thoroughly shamed. They ended up losing so badly, 40-7, that the people in my section bought me a beer because they felt so bad for me.
Anyway, people in this town are already talking like the Bears are going to go 16-0, then blow through the playoffs to finish with a grand total of 19 wins and no losses. I am predicting right now that the Bears will not go undefeated. It just cannot happen.
I thought for sure the Bears were going to get knocked off by the Arizona Cardinals tonight, but then they managed to escape when the game-winning field goal missed. Thanks a lot, Cardinals.
However, the best part about this Bears team is that there are plenty of opportunities to throw in Superfans references.
Posted at 10:48 PM | Comments (0)
October 13, 2006
So much for summer
I awoke yesterday morning to snow falling outside my window, although it wasn't quite cold enough for the snow to stick to the ground. But my family in Buffalo wasn't so fortunate. They got walloped with 14 (!!) inches of snow:
Less than three weeks removed from summer's waning days, a thundering lake-effect snowstorm blitzed Buffalo Niagara on Thursday, knocking out power to more than 100,000 homes, felling large trees and creating havoc for travelers.
The early-autumn blast of winter, fueled by Lake Erie's 60-degree water, scored a direct hit on the Buffalo metro area and its northern and eastern suburbs. Trees still carrying their autumn leaves became too heavy with snow and their branches crashed to the ground, damaging homes, cars and power lines.
There is nothing quite like a little Lake Effect snow in October, eh?
Posted at 07:16 AM | Comments (0)
October 12, 2006
Good riddance, I say
Today Zorn has an article about the decline of cursive handwriting. Apparently because so much schoolwork is done on computers nowadays, handwriting is declining in importance. Personally, I believe penmanship is important. Handwriting is unique, like every person, and there is always something exciting about seeing something written with a person's own hand. This is especially so when it's written by a famous person. But that doesn't mean cursive is the devil.
Let me tell you why: back in the day, I was a young feller at Medill Elementary School in Lancaster. In 2d grade, we had to learn cursive. This coincided with the time my brother dropped a bowling ball on my hand, causing me to break my middle finger. So, for the first few weeks of cursive writing lessons, I had to write either with my wrong hand or without the use of my middle finger. Since then, my cursive was pretty much a lost cause, and I refused to write in cursive unless forced to. My mom claims cursive was the most stressed out I ever was in elementary school.
This became a problem when I was in the 5th grade, and my evil teacher Miss Matz assigned a paper for us to write. I wrote the thing out in semi-readable printing, and turned it in. Miss Matz shook her head, handed it back to me, and said, "In the fifth grade, we don't print. We use cursive. Rewrite this." Bitch. Man was I pissed. After I escaped fifth grade, I reverted to my printing ways. Today my handwriting, I suppose, is a bit of a mishmash of printing and cursive. Take that, Miss M!
I have some crappy handwriting, as does my dad and both my brothers. Let me tell you how bad my little brother's handwriting is: he is left-handed, and will use any opportunity to complain how that makes him disadvantaged. His handwriting is god awful. Back when I was in high school, I too thought it would be cool to be left-handed, because left-handed is different, so I taught myself to do a variety of tasks with my left hand, including writing. My unschooled lefty writing is clearly more legible than his writing, and he has been doing it since kindergarten. Now THAT's a tragedy.
But otherwise, to cursive, I think it is wise to say "good day to you." Yes, penmanship is important. Continue to teach people how to write properly, and neatly. I don't think it matters if that good penmanship is in cursive, print, or a combo, so long as it's readable. But whatever you do, don't make poor fifth graders rewrite something!
Posted at 09:37 AM | Comments (1)
October 10, 2006
How not to rock
If you've ever talked to Christy, you know that she loves Aerosmith. It's her favorite band of all time, no if's and's or buts. She's loved them since the 7th grade. When I was in 7th grade, my music collection consisted almost exclusively of Weird Al Yankovic CDs. Saturday, she finally got me to a concert, and I can say this: Aerosmith brought the rock, and I was rocked. I quite enjoyed it.
This guy was sitting in front of us, and he also was rocked:

This may be the most un-rock n roll pose I have ever seen. There are certain things that can be held aloft at a rock concert: beers. Joints. Cigarette lighters (power ballads only.) But never, and I mean never, are you supposed to make the devil horns while holding a pretzel. Pretzels, especially $8 corporate ones, are not rock n roll, unless almost killing the President is rock n roll - which, I suppose, it could be. Actually that's probably more anarchist. Anyway...
My point is, if you are going to show up at a rock n roll concert and wave your arms in the air, put down the pretzel. Next time, pretzel man, take a cue from Liam Gallagher.
Posted at 12:15 AM | Comments (2)
October 09, 2006
Another doozy
Here's the latest press release from W Ketchup, which as usual is a potshot at Democrats. Maybe they are taking press release lessons from North Korea?
W Ketchup Wishes its Customers a Happy Columbus Day
Eagle Bridge, NY — October 9, 2006 — W Ketchup would like to wish all of its customers and all Americans a happy Columbus Day. W Ketchup believes in the spirit of exploration and discovery that Columbus embodied and condemns efforts by the guilt-driven Left to vilify the explorer as insufficiently culturally sensitive.
Bill Zachary, Chairman of W Ketchup, commented: “We give thanks for Columbus’s journey because without him many of us would be still be Europeans.” Unlike other ketchup companies, W Ketchup only sells its ketchup in America.
He's right. Not only that, it's a good thing we didn't give up when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor. For me, at least, I think it's hard not to be a little guilty about the whole European exploration thing. But, at the same time, that's the way the world works. I'm not gonna pack up and move to England because I'm guilty about what the Spanish did. Before the Europeans showed up, Native Americans were killing each other left and right and battling for land, so it's not as if this was a new thing for them. But at the same time, I think it would be unwise to praise fellows like Cortez, Pissaro and De Soto as virtuous.
But am I guilty about it? Let's just say I don't lose any sleep at night.
Posted at 09:36 PM | Comments (1)
Keep trying
I don't know what sort of expert this fellow is, but the Top 40 guide on About.com offers his list of the top ten pop singalong songs of all time. This may have been the worst list I've ever seen:
1. Baha Men, Who Let The Dogs Out
2. Beatles, Hey Jude
3. Bee Gees, Stayin' Alive
4. Whitney Houston, I Will Always Love You
5. Tommy James, Mony Mony
6. Joan Jett, I Love Rock N' Roll
7. Don McLean, American Pie
8. Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody
9. Santa f/Rob Thomas, Smooth
10. Village People, YMCA.
Okay, alltogether now: W. T. F? Who Let The Dogs Out is the greatest singalong of all time? Is this a joke? This is a song that has inspired a not-too-flattering t-shirt. This is a song that was unwelcome about the third time you heard it on the radio. This is a song that is overplayed at every football stadium. There is no way THAT is the number one singalong of all time. Now, I can't really quibble with 2, 6, 7, 8 and 10, but the other ones simply have to go.
Stayin' Alive? I Will Always Love You? Smooth? I don't think I can think of any circumstance where a whole room of people would all sing Whitney Houston's vocal chord-tearing tune in unison, unless maybe you happen to be in a room with nothing but American Idol rejects. Smooth? That's a great song, but it's not the sort of song that makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs.
I think there are certain songs that are classic singalongs. I'd put, oh, Bon Jovi's Livin On A Prayer, BNL's If I Had A Million Dollars, or even something like Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne on my list. But Whitney Houston? Surely you jest.
Posted at 02:58 PM | Comments (0)
Also seen about town
Friday I went up to do some studying at my gastronomical nemesis, and I saw this sign plastered to a newspaper box at Clark & Belmont:

Now I know circumcision is an, uh, touchy issue, but who decides to make ending male circumcision his life's pursuit? Yeah, female circumcision is nasty and ought to be ended, but male circumcision just doesn't seem like a big deal to me. I'm sure somebody will tell me otherwise, though!
Posted at 02:50 AM | Comments (1)
October 08, 2006
Seen about town
I was cruising around town on Saturday, when I found myself on Devon Ave. All I hear about Devon is how it is the place where all the people from India hang out, so I thought I'd take a look to see what was happening there. I wasn't disappointed - in fact, I thought it was really cool to see all the Indian looking buildings and stores, and it was just a fascinating bit of Chicago I'd never seen before. However, the air smelled liked curry. I didn't like that one bit.
Before I got to the Indian part, I was at Devon and California. This intersection also happened the be the intersection of two honorary streets. I thought it was a strange dichotomy:

I wonder who'd win in a fight, Golda Meir or Mother Theresa? Actually, that's a stupid question. Golda Meir would. Mother Theresa was a pacifist, I think, while Golda Meir didn't fuck around.
Posted at 10:41 PM | Comments (0)
Suitcase shenanigans
Christy doesn't look pleased to be inside a suitcase:

And here she is inside the suitcase:

Posted at 07:53 PM | Comments (1)
October 06, 2006
Tortoise and the hare
I've taken to riding the bus to school lately. I don't why I do it, because it is never on time, it's always crowded, and it seems like it takes 30 minutes to go the 2 miles to school. As I was sitting on the bus the other day, an idea popped into my head: I bet I could run faster than that stupid bus moves. Today I attempted the feat: I would race a CTA bus from the Clark & Fullerton intersection down to North Avenue, a distance of 1.1 miles. I left my house and shimmied down to the intersection, and waiting at the intersection was the #36 Broadway bus, with an old lady trying to board. I bolted down Clark Street, knowing I had to take every advantage I could out of the bus's frequent stops to pick up riders.
I hoofed it down Clark, past the Tower Records at Belden. I dodged around pedestrians. I looked back, and the bus was nowhere in sight. I kept running. As I got to Webster, about 1/4 of the way to North, I could hear the bus rumbling up beside me, and I cursed as I saw the bus pass me. But my sorrow soon turned to jubilation, as construction on Clark created a bottleneck. The bus was stuck in a line of about fifteen cars, and there were passengers waiting at the stop who would not step into traffic to board.
I passed the bus again, and blew across Webster even though I had the red light. I was starting to tire now, but I used every ounce of my energy to keep going. I soon got to Armitage, halfway between Fullerton and North. I heard that rumble again, but this time it was a truck. I still did not see the bus - it was obviously still caught in traffic.
South of Armitage, Clark expands into two lanes each way. This is when I thought the bus would overtake me, because there were no more road construction traffic jams. I strained to keep running, but I still did not see the bus behind me. Next I came upon LaSalle Drive, with North Avenue only a long block away. I dodged through the first lane of traffic on LaSalle and stood on the median. Then, when a gap opened up in the other direction, I crossed the other lane and was now on the last block of my journey. I could finally see the #36 bus looming up behind me.
I ran even faster. As I approached North Ave, a great sense of accomplishment washed over me. I looked back, and the bus still had not gotten across LaSalle Dr. I stopped, grabbed the streetlight pole at the intersection of North & Clark, and watched as the bus rolled up a full 30 seconds after I had arrived. Yes, a mere mortal had bested the great CTA monolith. I ain't no John Henry, but it was still an accomplishment. I also will have to rethink my transportation choices.
Posted at 01:01 PM | Comments (1)
Ditka 87, The Pope 0
So this Sunday my beloved Buffalo Bills are playing the Bears at Soldier Field. And you bet your bottom dollar I'm going to be there, with Christy, her roommate and her roommate's boyfriend there to antagonize me as they cheer for the Bears. I think the Bills can win, but football is a crazy game.
What is with the Bears this year? They are 4 and 0, and people are already anointing them Super Bowl champions. I have to say, for a town that worships a team from 1985, it's pretty interesting. I'm fascinated to see how this will play out. But for now, all I can say is, Go Bills!
Posted at 11:19 AM | Comments (0)
October 05, 2006
Ole!
Momentous things are afoot. Since moving to Chicago, I have had a love affair with the quesadilla. One of the finest purveyors of the quesadilla is Taco & Burrito Palace #2, on Halsted St. I have spent many a night there studying and munching quesadillas, to the point where the staff remembers my order. (Which is always embarassing to me...)
So, I noticed one day that they had a sign saying they were moving to a new location. That move happened a month or so ago, and they relocated their store to a glamorous new space about four doors north of where they are. It's brand new tables, shiny floors, a TV, and a nice bathroom, not to mention about five times as big. I'm glad to see they are doing well, and even gladder that I have room to spread out. It's quite a step up from the fairly spartan building they previously inhabited.
Today, however, the strangest thing happened. I did a little workout at the gay Bally's, then shuffled over to the Palace. I was the only person in there, until a garrulous fellow came in yapping about how he didn't know they had moved. Then, after ordering, he sits down at MY table, even though I am the only person there, and starts reading my newspaper. I was like, huh? I wish I had a cool story like I beat the crap out of him, but instead I waited until he got up. I then took my newspaper and went home. Great story.
Posted at 10:38 PM | Comments (1)
Go back to Texas
There's this song by the band Bowling For Soup called "Ohio (Come Back To Texas.)
The first couple lines go something like this:
She said she needed a break A little time to think But then she went to Cleveland With some guy named Leland That she met at the bank. Theres nothing wrong with Ohio Except the snow and the rain. I really like Drew Carey And i'd love to see The Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame.
Now wait just a damn second! As you probably know, I spent the first 22 years or so of my life in Ohio, and I can tell you there are lots of things wrong with Ohio, but the snow and the rain is not the first thing I'd pick out. For the record, I think the weather in Ohio is a lot more pleasant than the weather in Texas. Sure, it doesn't snow that often in Texas, but then in Ohio we don't have 110 degree days, giant tornadoes, duststorms, and hurricanes. And when it rains in Texas, it RAINS. I bet there's golf-ball sized hail, too. I guess my point is, Bowling For Soup fellows, that the weather in Texas is a little less tolerable than the weather in Ohio. Humpfh!
Posted at 03:53 PM | Comments (0)
October 04, 2006
Of course!
I was poking around on ESPN, when I discovered a "Chicago CityGuide," which gives travelers to Chicago a rundown of places to go. Naturally I looked to see if there was anything in there I knew about - well, it didn't disappoint, with the usual fare of Cubby Bear and Sluggers. But what, oh what, was the first thing on ESPN's list of restaurants to check out?
ESPN Zone 43 E. Ohio St. (River North) 312-664-3776 This place is like an amusement park. You can enter a boxing ring and trade punches with a simulated opponent. You can face off against a computerized hockey goalie. Or you can watch live sports events on one of 37 screens, some of them HD. The food and drink is better than you'll find at most sports bars. The Screening Room features a 16-foot TV surrounded by private skybox suites.
Oh ESPN. Oh oh oh. Did you really have to plug the Zone right there? I mean, it's good and all, if you like paying $10 for a hamburger. I mean, I've been to ESPN Zone once or twice, but it's not even remotely close to being the best sports bar in the city. For shame!
Posted at 05:07 PM | Comments (0)
Top shelf where mama hides the cookies!
It's October, and you know what that means. The Sabres are back! And with new uniforms, no less. If there's one thing you have to love about winter, it's ice hockey.
Posted at 03:52 PM | Comments (1)
October 03, 2006
Well I thought it was funny
I guess Christy is steamed at me. You see, she had this giant suitcase that she needed to put in her apartment's storage unit. Being the fabulous gentleman that I am, I helped her carry it down. But I noticed that the suitcase was so large, and Christy is so little, that I wondered if Christy couldn't fit inside the suitcase. I told her this, and stupidly she agreed to try it.
Doncha know, she actually FITS inside a suitcase. I could mail her to Abu Dhabi if I wanted. Or I could have tossed her into Lake Michigan, or thrown her into a giant pit of fire like in Temple of Doom. But I like Christy, so I'm not going to do that. Instead, I zipped her up inside the suitcase, and then contemplated my next action. I thought it would be good to take a picture of this as proof of her flexibility, so I walked off searching for a camera.
About this time, Christy's roommate Emily came home, so I decided to have a little fun. I hid, and waited to see what happened when Emily discovered her roommate zipped up in a suitcase. Oh my mind was awash with hilarious occurences, such as screaming and crying, followed by a frantic 911 call, whereupon I emerge from my lair, laughing like a hyena. Well that didn't happen. There may have been some swearing, but no crying or screaming or other cool stuff you'd expect to happen when you find your roommate locked in a suitcase. Alas... I meant well.
Posted at 11:01 PM | Comments (2)
His name's Dusty, not Messiah
Hey, let's say fare thee well to Dusty Baker, who won't be back at Cubs manager next year. I think this was a decent move, but what do I know? It's not like any team of mine has won something after firing the coach, and God knows some of my teams have been through lots of coaches. Of course, I bought into the Dusty Baker mystique many years ago, as I am the proud owner of one of these shirts. Maybe that will have to go in the pile next to my shrine to Buffalo's greatest running back.
Anyway, here's one more picture of Dusty and his ridiculous toothpicks:

Posted at 11:39 AM | Comments (0)
October 02, 2006
Happy trails
Oh the times, they are a-changin'. The latest casualty is Toots, a hot-dog stand located on the corner of Central and Montrose in the Portage Park neighborhood:
The 561-square-foot shack, a neighborhood landmark since 1955, will be razed to make room for a strip mall. The business itself will relocate in a different neighborhood. Owner Glen Weiberg , who worked the stand as a teenager and bought the business in 1980, said he knew the stand's days were numbered when the corner property went on the market for $1.8 million. The land was sold, and Weiberg lost his lease.
"This is the end, and it's been quite a fond farewell," said Weiberg, who was shocked by the size, scope and sentimentality of the Toots sendoff.
For many in this Northwest Side neighborhood, the Toots tradition started when they were kids, the best place to stop for a swirl cone after a Little League game.
Teenagers found it an ideal hangout, crowding around the outdoor picnic tables in all weather and flirting shamelessly over the curly fries. For the twenty-somethings, Toots became the 3 a.m. stop for cheese fries and mini-tacos after the bars closed.
And when those days of late-night partying ended, loyal customers would come back with their children--and sometimes grandkids--for the dogs and specialty shakes.
Toots, believe it or not, has a special place in my heart. It was the first warm day of 2003, and I was in a delightful mood. I was cruising home from work in my then new car, Yoshi, and I decided to go home a different way than usual. As I puttered along Montrose, my car began to have weird lights light up on the dashboard, and then it died at the next signal light.
There, to my right, was Toots, a ramshackle hot dog stand with few seats inside and a ragtag group of people hanging around the outside. A few of them helped me push Yoshi into the parking lot, and then I got on the horn with the AAA, my parents and various friends discussing what to do.
And so it was, I hung out at Toot's for about three hours waiting for AAA to come help me with my car. I drank a milkshake, enjoyed the scenery, if you know what I mean, and read the newspaper. I was bored out of my mind.
Thus, I bid farewell to you, Toot's. You helped me in my hour of need with your tasty milkshakes and parking lot. I thank you.
Posted at 01:00 PM | Comments (2)
Man laws
I'm getting pretty sick of those Miller Lite Man Law commercials. I think this guy hit the nail on the head when he said a lot of them just aren't funny.
I thought some of them were a little funny at first, but the campaign took a real nose dive when I saw a billboard ad that said, "No man shall ask for help in opening his Miller Lite." Wait just a god damn second. Who EVER needs help opening a bottle of Miller Lite? It's either a can, or a twist-off cap. The only scenario I can envision in which somebody would need help opening a bottle of Miller Lite is if his hands are frostbitten so severely that they are numb and the flesh is actually dead. However, if your hands do happen to be frostbitten like that, you probably have more problems than a bottle of beer can solve. Or a 5 year boy probably couldn't open a bottle of Miller Lite, but 5 year old boys aren't supposed to be drinking beer. I should mention, however, that Miller Lite may have accomplished one goal: they definitely have people talking about their beer.
Then there is another problem with Man Laws. This sort of thing looks a bit like Fight Club: the first rule of Man Laws is, do not talk about Man Laws. I don't know if people should be talking about this stuff in public. Most man laws to me are fairly self-evident. If you don't know them by now, you're hopeless. But, under no circumstances are they supposed to be talked about. Thus, you may be asking me, hey, what do you think should be a Man Law? To you I say, "If you need to ask, you probably aren't a man. Nevertheless, I am not allowed to tell you. Good day to you." And that is that.
Posted at 09:00 AM | Comments (0)
October 01, 2006
Unsavory
Ah, politics. I'm a little dissatisfied that in the wake of this whole Congressman Foley mess, the Democratic leadership is accusing the Republicans of covering up the scandal.
Senate Democratic Leader Harry Reid of Nevada called the Foley case "repugnant, but equally as bad is the possibility that Republican leaders in the House of Representatives knew there was a problem and ignored it to preserve a congressional seat this election year.
Maybe they did, maybe they didn't. I suppose if a Democrat had been the one sending nasty messages to teenage boys, the Republicans would be doing the same thing. But that's how it goes.
Posted at 03:49 PM | Comments (1)
Another sex scandal!
In case you haven't heard, Florida Congressman Mark Foley had to resign a few days ago when ABC News found out he had been exchanging dirty instant messages with his former Congressional page who just happened to be sixteen years old at the time - and a boy! And for those of you who love delicious irony, Foley has campaigned for years and drafted laws against sexual predators of children. Oops!
Anyway, because it was better than doing homework, I read the transcript of some of the IM's in question. It's not pretty.
Posted at 12:50 AM | Comments (0)