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February 29, 2008

Glutton for punishment

There's this restaurant by my office in the Loop, and on Fridays I usually get sent out to file documents at the courthouse. On a bad day, I can spend 90 minutes running around the Loop filing lawsuits, doing Freedom of Information Act Requests, and other mundane law office stuff. Every now and then I'll stop into this restaurant after finishing my tasks and sit down for some lunch and a little relaxation. I don't know why I keep doing this.

The waitresses are crabby. They aren't crabby in the sort-of charming way waitress can be crabby. They're just sour. Every time I go there, the waitresses are crabby. She called me 'sweetie' today, but it was more out of habit than any real affection.

The owners are unpleasant. They never let me sit in a big booth, by the window. They put me in tiny two-person booths, where there isn't enough room for my food and my newspaper to fit comfortably. They do this even when the restaurant is nearly empty, as if a sudden onrush of people seeking lunch at 1:30 pm will necessitate the use of the four person booth.

The food is so-so. Today I ordered fish and chips, but it was more like Gorton's fish sticks and french fries. They have a decent chicken parm, but the chef always burns it. My water glass is small, and refills are slow and inconsistent.

Why do I keep coming back? I think I secretly hope that one day, they will recognize me as the guy who keeps coming back. They will give me that booth by the window. The waitress will smile at me, and stop to give me my food instead of dropping it on the table as she walks by. But mostly I think I just don't want to go to McDonald's.

Posted at 03:25 PM | Comments (1)

February 28, 2008

More fun with Con Law

Well well, the Constitutional Law scholars are at it again. After the rather dubious argument by one citizen that women, especially Hillary Clinton, can't be president, others are suggesting John McCain can't be president. The problem: McCain was born in the Panama Canal Zone to his military family, who were US citizens there at the behest of the government. Alas, the Constitution says only natural-born citizens can be president. The logic: so dastardly foreigners, like George III or Arnold Schwarzenegger, can't come in and turn the United States into a monarchy. Now, there is plenty of support that McCain can be president, mostly that children born to US citizens abroad are considered natural born. Personally, I think he is perfectly eligible.

But others admit it isn't a gimme:

Mr. McCain’s likely nomination as the Republican candidate for president and the happenstance of his birth in the Panama Canal Zone in 1936 are reviving a musty debate that has surfaced periodically since the founders first set quill to parchment and declared that only a “natural-born citizen” can hold the nation’s highest office.

Almost since those words were written in 1787 with scant explanation, their precise meaning has been the stuff of confusion, law school review articles, whisper campaigns and civics class debates over whether only those delivered on American soil can be truly natural born. To date, no American to take the presidential oath has had an official birthplace outside the 50 states.

It will be interesting to see how this develops as the election goes on. Which Democrat toadie will bring it up? Even I, as an Obama supporter, will be quite PO'ed if somebody in a Democrat campaign tries to bring this up.

Posted at 01:13 PM | Comments (2)

February 27, 2008

Not Miss Cleo

The picture above is HMS Barham, which exploded after taking three torpedoes from a German U-Boat in the early part of World War II. At the time, the Royal Navy was undermanned and it couldn't afford to lose another battleship. Naturally, they didn't want the Germans to know that the ship had actually sunk, so they censored news of the Barham's demise. Unfortunately, a psychic medium named Helen Duncan scuppered these plans:

She organized frequent séances for people seeking to communicate with deceased relatives. During one séance held shortly after the Barham’s loss in late 1941 she reportedly summoned the spirit of a sailor who announced, “My ship is sunk” to the astonished audience. The sailor reportedly wore a Royal Navy hatband with the name “HMS Barham.” This episode occurred while Barham’s loss remained a heavily guarded secret. When news of the event reached the Admiralty, they feared Duncan’s séances would unravel their extensive measures of concealment.

The Navy authorities got wind of this, but they didn't take any action against Duncan, until 1944 rolled around, and the D-Day landings were about to take place. The plan needed the utmost secrecy to succeed, and this time they didn't want Duncan to spoil the surprise - much like the infamous crossword puzzle incident. Naturally, they threw her in jail:

Helen Duncan was not arrested in the aftermath of the Barham incident, and she continued to organize séances throughout the country. But authorities watched her more closely. In 1942 Duncan began to lead spiritualist demonstrations in Portsmouth, a naval town on England’s southern coast. She was conducting a séance in Portsmouth on January 19, 1944 when suddenly a whistle blew and a participant rushed forward to grab the floating ectoplasm. Others in the audience turned on the lights and ushered in the police. Undercover naval and police officers had infiltrated the meeting, and Duncan and three other shocked participants were arrested and charged with vagrancy before the Portsmouth magistrates.

Higher authorities intervened, however, and the police transported Duncan to London to face charges from the Director of Public Prosecutions. The more serious accusation of conspiracy, punishable by death in wartime, replaced her original infraction. Finally, the prosecutors decided to charge her with violating the 1735 Witchcraft Act, a law originally passed during the reign of King George II that had lain dormant for a hundred years.

Follow the link for the whole fascinating story, which is both amazing and disturbing. The steps governments take to conceal secrets is quite astonishing, especially in times of war.

Posted at 02:20 PM | Comments (0)

They're probably smoking big cigars

I glanced at the funny pages today, and I saw a cartoon that combines two of my favorite things: the law and Johnny Cash. Though somehow those two things seem mutually exclusive.

Posted at 12:37 PM | Comments (0)

February 26, 2008

Happy trails

Today is the infamous NHL trading deadline, where hockey teams get their final chance to load up on talent for a run at the Stanley Cup. My beloved Sabres, sadly, aren't looking like they have much of a chance to win the Cup this year. As such, they shipped Brian Campbell, known as "Soupy," to San Jose. He was going to be a free agent at the end of the season, and I think there was the thought that Buffalo ought to get something for him.

Anyway, these are my two favorite Brian Campbell moments. They can be appreciated by hockey fans and non-hockey fans alike:

Posted at 01:47 PM | Comments (0)

February 22, 2008

Superstar!

Jesus Christ Superstar is, by far, my favorite musical/rock opera. So, when I heard it was coming to town I just had to go - and I saw it last night. The whole experience left me mildly disappointed, though it was still pretty good.

I think my main problem was with the two main characters: Jesus and Judas. You see, playing Jesus was Ted Neeley, who also played Jesus in the 1973 film. Ted is now 65 years old, and honestly, I don't buy Jesus as a 65 year old: Neeley's voice can't handle the screaming that the role entails. On the other hand, Corey Glover, who apparently used to be in a band called Living Colour, played Judas. Alas, the movie Judas, Carl Anderson, passed away some four years ago. He played the part perfectly, and Glover's rendition just seemed flat.

Of course, it was still an interesting production overall, but I think next time they need a new Jesus. My parents saw the show where Sebastian Bach of Skid Row played Jesus, but he was a disaster who got fired a few days after they saw him. But I am sure there is somebody out there who can do the Jesus part justice.

Posted at 03:33 PM | Comments (0)

February 21, 2008

I knew it

I'm not Hillary Clinton's biggest fan, so I was pleased to see that a constitutional law scholar has concluded that the Constitution prohibits women from being president:

Most people believe not only that the 19th Amendment permitted women the right to vote but that since women serve in Congress, the courts and other offices of government, the office of president of the United States has been de-genderized.

Not true. This important legal question exists now and has not been constitutionally addressed. The language and syntax of the 19th Amendment merely removed the barriers that prevented women from voting. It did not identify women to be qualified to become elected president.

The language is clear. The 19th Amendment says: "The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex."

We cannot read into the amendment something that is not there. Now, had the amendment said, "The right of citizens of the United States to vote or hold public office shall not be denied," it would have accomplished what the feminists think took place.

Of course, this analysis ignores the part in the Constitution which actually says who can be President:

No person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty-five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States.

I couldn't help but notice it doesn't say whether or not the president has to be a man. I mean, sure, the framers of the Constitution probably never thought a woman would be president, but they sure didn't prohibit it. Whoops!

Posted at 01:23 PM | Comments (1)

February 20, 2008

Stick it to the man

This man was rather generous. If I had wanted to do this, I would've given them a big pile of unrolled coins:

The Knox County Trustee's Office has some extra spare change on hand, after one Knox County couple paid a property tax bill almost entirely in coins.

"I went, 'Oh please, no,'" Angie Fields said of the idea from her husband, Brian.

Brian came up with the idea last year and followed through this year.

"All of our elected officials pretty much act childish," he said. "I figured I would do a little bit, too."

His childish act: sending his wife to pay their property tax bill with $1,700 in golden Sacagawea Dollars.

Now, a few years ago I rolled up about $100 in various loose change and brought it to my bank. They made me write my name on each roll of coins, and my account number, before they would accept it for deposit. If they wanted to find a way to keep people from taking change to the bank, they did it.

Posted at 02:55 PM | Comments (0)

February 19, 2008

Hero dog, my foot

The last time I got woken up by a dog in the middle of the night, he wanted to go outside to look around. He didn't even go to the bathroom! I just hope if my house ever catches on fire and I have a dog, he at least has the good sense to wake me up.

Hubcap, a 10-pound Chihuahua, smelled smoke and alerted his owner Kym Sullivan by jumping up on her bed and licking her face.

"I woke up and asked him what he wanted. It was 2 in the morning," said Sullivan, 46. "He ran to the back door. I opened the door and could see and smell the white smoke throughout the hallway."

Minutes later, the fire alarms went off, and firefighters arrived at the three-story apartment complex in the 7800 block of South Rutherford Avenue.

Firefighters temporarily evacuated the tenants living in the 18 units. No one was injured.

Posted at 01:13 PM | Comments (0)

February 18, 2008

Spring is coming

As the excellent people over at Bleed Cubbie Blue say, five of the most beautiful words in the English language are "pitchers and catchers report today." Well said. (Okay, technically the Cubs started Spring Training a few days ago, but I'm finally getting to it now.)

When I was a wee lad I had an illustrated "Casey At The Bat," which featured water-colored paintings of 19th century ballplayers, including Elmer Flick (that's him at the top of this entry), who was used as a model for the mighty Casey.

Through the magic of me never throwing out a book, I found that illustrated Casey At The Bat, and in fact I am currently holding it as I type this. It is surely a great poem, and through the less-exciting magic of expired copyrights, here is the poem. Baseball season is coming soon, and I myself can hardly wait.

Casey at the Bat
A Ballad of the Republic, Sung in the Year 1888

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day; The score stood four to two with but one inning more to play. And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A sickly silence fell upon of the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast. They thought if only Casey could but get a whack at that- We'd put even money now with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was lulu and the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred, There was Johnnie safe at second, and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 thoats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place; There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt; Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt. Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped- "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on the stern and distant shore. "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult, he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew; But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike Two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "fraud"; But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed; They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate; He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate. And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright; The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout; But there is no joy in Mudville -mighty Casey has struck out.

Posted at 12:25 AM | Comments (1)

February 15, 2008

Gimme some Dunkin

I stopped off at Dunkin Donuts before work today. The man in front of me was buying two boxes of a dozen donuts, but his plan hit a snag: they were all out of glazed. It took what felt like a whole minute for the cashier to explain to the fellow that they had no more glazed donuts.

He then got on his cell phone, and had a very animated conversation with his boss. When he was done, he told the cashier he didn't want the donuts, and he was going to go to another Dunkin because his boss wanted the glazed. He walked out, leaving two dozen donuts sitting on the counter. I thought, man, that guy must really like glazed donuts.

Posted at 12:02 PM | Comments (0)

February 14, 2008

Happy Valentine's Day

In honor of Valentine's Day, here is a very special message about love from my new favorite TV show, The Flight of the Conchords:

Posted at 01:19 PM | Comments (0)

February 13, 2008

Mmm!

Somebody on Craigslist is giving away a "case" of cole slaw:

I have a case of dixieland-style coleslaw that I'm giving away. it expires in less than a week so unless you have a small army or a work at a homeless shelter you will end up discarding at least a container. I assure you its still good and I rather give it away than throw it away.

That sounds kind of gross. For the longest time, I hated cole slaw, and for the most part, I still do. However, two restaurants have cole slaw that I like: France's and Boston Blackie's. It goes great on their sandwiches and burgers, though I still can't stand to eat the stuff by itself. Maybe cole slaw is joining the ranks of ketchup, mustard and marinara sauce as stuff that tastes good with other things, but pretty untolerable otherwise.

I'm such a finicky eater.

Posted at 08:54 PM | Comments (0)

February 12, 2008

Monkey see, monkey do

During the Sabres games, HSBC has been advertising lately. They've been using this rather strange commercial, featuring gorillas:

Now, if you get to about 15 seconds in, the screen reads "evolved," while showing a picture of a gorilla picking his nose and EATING it.

How is this evolved? Nose picking, I suppose, is sort of evolved. I don't think you need opposable thumbs to properly pick, but then I've never seen a dog pick his nose. Dogs, however, do eat their own poop and vomit. I don't know if apes eat their own poop, though they have been known to fling it. Cats don't eat their own poop, but they also don't pick their noses. I guess that's because cats are supposed to be clean.

Lots of other animals can't even pick their noses. Fish? Dolphins? Alligators? They can't even reach their noses.

Clearly, nose picking is a sign of higher mental development. So, fellows, the next time your wife starts complaining about your picking, show her that commercial. That will set her straight.

Posted at 11:58 PM | Comments (0)

February 11, 2008

A bass issue

I've been thinking alot about this lately... I like Mike Huckabee as a person. He seems like a really nice fellow. Apart from his occasionally progressive, sometimes reactionary opinions on the issues, I don't think the guy should be president.

Now I have a completely superficial reason for thinking so: he plays bass guitar. The bass guy isn't the star. He's a side player. The bass man is, undoubtedly, very important, but he's not the focus. You want the president to have a little pizazz, to be The Man. The bass man isn't the man. He stands of to the side, plucking away. He lets somebody else grab the spotlight, take the risk.

How many bass players are also the most famous members of their bands? Not many. Sting plays bass, but do you want Sting to be the President? The other bass player who is the most famous member of his band is Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy. Is Pete Wentz presidential? Nah! What about Bill Wyman? Not even American. Paul McCartney was a reluctant bassist, because the Beatles already had two guitarists. Again, not American. Then there's Flea. President Flea? I don't think so. Once more, also not American.

All these non-American bass players also suggests the bass is... Unamerican! In summary, you have a guy who doesn't want the spotlight, playing an unamerican instrument. Is this really somebody you want as President?

Posted at 01:50 PM | Comments (1)

February 07, 2008

You had one thing to do

I'm sure this story is making the rounds, but how much bad publicity is Obama Girl going to get now that she admitted she didn't actually vote for Barack on Tuesday? (Speaking of which, how come nobody has mentioned that Barack Obama's initials are BO? You'd think somebody would have made fun of him for that by now. My dad used to tell me he would always make sure that when he named us, he made sure we didn't have initials. Hence why I have no siblings whose initials are BO, or POO, or FOO, or HO.)

The story goes that Obama Girl, who became an internet sensation with her I've Got A Crush On Obama video, couldn't make the journey from New York City to New Jersey to cast her vote. Her excuse? She was sick. Heard that one before, Obama Girl!

Interestingly, this particular information was gathered at a party on election night:

On Tuesday night, City Room ran into Ms. Ettinger at an election-watching party in Greenwich Village and asked how things went at the polls.

“I didn’t get a chance to vote today because I’m not registered to vote in New York,” she said.

So where is Obama Girl registered to vote?

“New Jersey.”

Um, but didn’t New Jersey also hold a primary?

True. The problem, she explained, was that she was sick in New York City and was unable to get back across the Hudson River to the polls in Jersey City.

Whatever, yo. Of course, the smart, politician type thing to do would have been to lie about it. "Oh you bet I voted!" Nobody would be the wiser.

And in case you were wondering, yes, I did vote. Or am I lying to cover my hypocrisy? Only I know!

Posted at 11:02 PM | Comments (0)

Happy trails

I was saddened today to read the obituary of Harry Landis, the second to last surviving American veteran of the Great war. He has a ripe old 108, and by all accounts led a long and fulfilling life. I was amused by a quote from his caregiver in his Tribune obituary:

"He only took vitamins and eye drops, no other medication," Riley said Wednesday. "He was 108 and a healthy man. That's why all of this was sudden and unexpected. He was so full of life."

How come whenever an old person dies, his friends and family always say he lived like a roughneck: "He smoke, he drank, he caroused, he didn't exercise. But he was healthy as an ox." I know people need remarkable genes to become a centenarian, but not all 108 year old people in nursing homes can be like this... It's just not possible.

For once, I'd like to see the obituary of a 110 year old woman that quotes her 65 year old grandson as saying, "She had two hip replacements, an artificial knee and the doctors took her left foot cause of diabetes. And she let everybody in her wing of the nursing home know it, too. She wouldn't shut up about it. God, what a bitch!"

There has to be somebody like that in a nursing home, somewhere.

Posted at 03:55 PM | Comments (0)

Good neighbors

Apparently I have a pretty dicky neighbor. Nothing annoys me more than a few days after a snowstorm than to be walking down the street and encountering an unshoveled sidewalk. As I sort of guessed, people are legally required to shovel their sidewalks. There are several houses around the corner on Fullerton Parkway who never shovel the sidewalk, but this particular house on my block irritates me to no end. Know why? Because the people who live their shovel the walkway leading to their house, but never the actual sidewalk. They've done this for every major snowfall this winter, and I think it's pretty despicable.

I'm surprised my landlord hasn't done anything about it. He's kind of the neighborhood enforcer, or something. The other day, after a snowstorm, somebody had parked in front of the house. In order to get into the space, he shoveled it out and dumped all the snow onto our freshly shoveled sidewalk. Later, I saw a note on the car that said, "If you are going to dig out spaces and dump the snow on shoveled sidewalks, PARK YOUR CAR ELSEWHERE." And it was enclosed in a plastic baggie to make sure it didn't get soaked. Oh, snap!

Posted at 03:45 PM | Comments (0)

February 06, 2008

The joy of caller ID

I wonder how the victim in this case caught the perpetrator. Do you think she star-69'ed him? Hee hee hee!

A 21-year-old German man has been convicted of sending a photograph of his penis to an unknown woman via mobile phone, authorities said on Wednesday.

"We all had a bit of a laugh when we saw the thing," said Christian Kropp, presiding judge at the court in the eastern town of Sondershausen.

The woman reported the sender to police after receiving the photo attachment of the man's genitals, the court said. Officers found evidence he may have sent similar images to other women.

Posted at 11:46 PM | Comments (0)

February 04, 2008

A ghost from the past

Ernie Pyle is probably one of my favorite writers to read. I'm pretty much a World War 2 junkie, and his reports brought to life what the war was like for the average soldier. In many ways, I think that's more valuable than many other writings about the war.

Of course, he didn't survive the war. A Japanese machine gun struck him in the head. Now, a new photograph of that day has emerged:

The figure in the photograph is clad in Army fatigues, boots, and helmet, lying on his back in peaceful repose, folded hands holding a military cap.

But he is not asleep; he is dead. And this is not just another fallen GI; it is Ernie Pyle, the most celebrated war correspondent of World War II.

As far as can be determined, the photograph has never been published. Sixty-three years after Pyle was killed by the Japanese, it has surfaced - surprising historians and reminding the world of a humble correspondent who artfully and ardently told the story of a war from the foxholes.

"It's a striking and painful image, but Ernie Pyle wanted people to see and understand the sacrifices that soldiers had to make, so it's fitting, in a way, that this photo of his own death . . . drives home the reality and the finality of that sacrifice," said James E. Tobin, a professor at Miami University of Ohio.

Tobin, author of a 1997 biography, "Ernie Pyle's War," and Owen V. Johnson, an Indiana University professor who collects Pyle-related correspondence, said they had never seen the photo. The negative is long lost, and only a few prints are known to exist. Retired naval officer Richard Strasser, 88, of Goshen, Ind., who obtained a copy while serving in the Okinawa campaign, recently provided it to the Associated Press.

Here's a great site with some of his columns. I'd also recommend this book. It helps to remind you of how horrible war can be.

Posted at 04:34 PM | Comments (0)

February 03, 2008

No actual sports must have been on

Today, apparently, is the Super Bowl. I always look on the Super Bowl with a certain bitterness, which can best be traced back to this. Or maybe this. At any rate, the NFL's two week lovefest will be over soon, and the best part about it will be that I don't have to put up with all the crap that goes along with the Super Bowl.

As if two straight weeks of talk isn't enough, today I discovered something else to hate: a televised Madden Football tournament. I was at the gym, running on a treadmill, and was subjected to a whole hour of watching grown men play a video game. Not only were they playing video games, they were acting like idiots while doing so.

As a rule, I don't like trash talk. I think it's rude and unsportsmanlike. But these video game players were trash talking in a video game. It was boring enough watching men play a video game, but it was downright nauseating to see a guy actually get in his opponent's face and talk smack during the course of said game. My one thought during all of this was, their mothers must be very proud of them. I can only assume ESPN (who must have run out of poker tournaments to televise) asked the players to ham it up - perhaps ESPN understood that watching people play a video game is not good TV.

I mean, if you see people playing a video game, you don't want to watch them play; you want to play. Why would I sit down and watch people do it on TV? Beats me.

Posted at 04:01 PM | Comments (0)