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  • Cool Ranch Soon

    Taco Bell is toying with me.

    My love for all things Taco Bell is no secret, and their addition of the taco with a Doritos shell was one of the great moments of 2012.  I wrote at the time how amazing it would be to have a Cool Ranch flavor, which the company has announced is on the way.

    During Sunday’s Super Bowl, Doritos ran a number of commercials, leading to this exchange on Twitter:

    @cjhannas Here you go: …obellhaveacoolranchdoritostacoyet.com
    — TACO BELL (@TacoBell) February 4, 2013

    Yes, Taco Bell set up a simple, ridiculous website to say the Cool Ranch tacos are coming soon.

    In fact, they didn’t stop there.  I scrolled through their Twitter feed and found they responded to a bunch of people that night, with at least THREE MORE of those websites:

    AreDoritosCoolRanchTacosReal.com
    IsTheTacoBellCoolRanchTacoOutYet.com
    CanIEatACoolRanchTacoYet.com

    Naturally, I applaud this effort.  If only they would actually say when I will be able to realize my Cool Ranch taco dreams.  I have a life to plan.

    [UPDATE: March 7 is the magical day.]

    February 7, 2013 food Taco Bell Uncategorized
  • Not So Miserables

    I’ve read books and later seen their corresponding movies.  I’ve seen movies first and then read the books.  Les Miserables is the first movie I’ve seen while in the middle of the book.

    My goal, of course, was to finish the book first, but despite a few marathon reading sessions I was only 550 pages into the 829-page tome by the time my friends arranged to hit the theater.  The result was pretty interesting.

    Because of the film, I knew the general plot for the big points at the end of the book.  Yet at the same time, I knew the movie had left out a ton of details and even changed the chronology of some pieces, meaning there was still a lot left for me to experience.

    I wish for the sake of those who haven’t read the book that the movie did a better job of connecting the characters to one another.  We get the big relationships, but Victor Hugo weaves such an intricate web that in many ways drives the motivations of these characters.  The movie stands by itself as a perfectly good story, but even small things, like knowing Gavroche is Eponine’s brother, or the backstory between Marius and Thenardier, would have given that extra bit of depth the book provides.

    Of course, that is why we still value books, right?  I don’t think we’re ready for the 14-hour Les Mis movie.

    Maybe it was because I was really plowing through this book (at nearly double my normal page consumption), but I didn’t flag very many pages along the way.  I did have to laugh at Hugo’s description of Jean Valjean’s restless sleep, which for him was partially due to having an actual bed after years of being in prison:

    “When many diverse sensations have disturbed the day, when the mind is preoccupied, we can fall asleep once, but not a second time.  Sleep comes at first much more readily than it comes again.  Such was the case with Jean Valjean.”

    Such is the case with me.  I’m a great fall-asleeper, not so good at the getting back to sleep part.  Since we’re on the topic of sleep, this book twice uses the word “somnambulism.”  I flagged it the first time to look up the definition (an abnormal condition of sleep in which motor acts are performed), which helped tremendously when it popped up again and I thought, “Wait, I’ve seen that word recently…”

    I also blame Family Guy for distracting me at one point.  Anyone reading in 1998 or earlier would have flown right through this section, but obviously the existence of Stewie in our modern world makes things different.  Jean Valjean thinks he sees the inspector Javert, but looks again to find it is someone else:

    “What the deuce was I about to fancy that I saw Javert?”

    Hugo obviously wrote Les Miserables in French, so the version I had was a translation, but there is a passage I thought would be right at home in any love story written today:

    “When the mine is loaded, and the match is ready, nothing is simpler.  A match is a spark.  It was all over with him.  Marius loved a woman.  His destiny was entering upon the unknown.”

    Like I mentioned earlier, I think Hugo created a plausible world with a lot of crazy interwoven relationships.  But there was one line near the end of the book that I had to question.  It comes in the description of Marius and Cosette’s wedding:

    “…hand in hand, admired and envied by all, Marius in black, she in white, preceded by the usher in colonel’s epaulettes, striking the pavement with his halberd, between two hedges of marvelling spectators, they arrived under the portal of the church…”

    Hedges of spectators?  Who were these people?  The bride’s side of things consists of a reformed convict who has spend the past dozen years doing everything possible to lay low and not form the kind of personal connection that would lead to a wedding invite.  Cosette, for her part, seems to spend every waking moment at Jean Valjean’s side, not out making tons of friends who would end up at this ceremony.

    Marius did have a group of friends…but they were kind of all killed in the fighting that almost got him too.  His parents aren’t around either.  So the only possible explanation is that all the guests at this wedding are friends of his grandfather.  Sounds like an amazingly fun event.

    Finally, let me close with a quote from one of the revolutionaries with whom Marius fought.  They have endured an assault by French soldiers upon their barricade, and now are sitting through the night, awaiting the dawn that brings the final blow upon them all.  Enjolras speaks to the remaining group:

    “Let us understand each other in regard to equality; for, if liberty is the summit, equality is the base.”

    Well said.

    February 1, 2013 books Uncategorized
  • Make Mine in a Glass

    Every time I go through the Taco Bell drive-thru and they ask me what kind of sauce I want, I always blank for a second before spitting out, “uhhh mild and verde, please.”

    It’s a question I’ve answered many times, always the same way, and yet my brain needs a second to process what’s going on.

    Last night, I was getting a pre-movie (Les Mis) drink with some friends and was presented with a question my mouth answered with no hesitation while my brain continued to try to conceptualize the issue.

    Me: “I’ll have a Coke.”
    Bartender: “Sure, how do you like it?”

    I think a lifetime of drinking soda without specifying how it is presented validates that I was taken aback by the question.  But then this morning I watched the latest episode of Parks and Recreation and realized it wasn’t silly at all:

    Next time I’ll be sure to get my Coke in the form of a flash.

    January 19, 2013 food Uncategorized
  • Charting the Pages

    I’m pretty sure keeping data on my reading habits is the nerdiest thing I do. 

    December 30, 2012 book recap books
  • Your Cheryl is at Another Email

    Cheryl Wilburn needs to get on a better email list.

    In the run-up to the 2008 election, then-candidate Obama sent her emails all the time.  Granted, there was obviously a typo in the address and they came to me instead, but still, the effort was there.

    The tone of the previous ones became more familiar, ending up with them addressing Cheryl by her first name.  But for some reason, during the past three years I can’t recall getting any emails directed to her.

    That is, until last week.

    The “Dear Cheryl” is gone, replaced simply by “Friend.”  I’m not sure if this is an upgrade.  Whatever the case, it’s clear that while Cheryl hasn’t been getting emails, she played an important role in the president’s re-election.

    The latest email starts with, “I’ll be taking the oath of office again on January 21st because of people like you.”  It says she was a part of the last inauguration and he would like her to do the same this time around.

    The note is signed simply, “Barack.”  Clearly Cheryl and the president are BFFs, and yet are tragically unable to connect through email.

    I can’t help but picture Joe Biden firing up his Hotmail account, wondering who Cheryl Wilburn is and why she’s sending him messages addressed to Obama.  Then he shrugs, clicks over to the next tab to check on the indiegogo campaign to buy him a Trans Am.  “Niiiice,” he says.  “Niice.”

    December 30, 2012 Uncategorized
  • Tag Team Champions

    Last week, video game maker THQ filed for bankruptcy.  To most of you, this news is completely irrelevant, but to me it immediately triggered a flood of memories from the summer of 2000.

    My younger brother Pat and I took all of our old original Nintendo stuff and traded it in for two Nintendo 64 games, one called Perfect Dark and the other, made by THQ, called Wrestlemania 2000.

    Neither of us were major wrestling fans, but the game was extraordinarily fun.  The main feature though, is that it allows you to edit any of the dozens of characters.  You can change the name, their moves, and most importantly, their appearance.  The result: an entire fleet of wrestlers from our own imaginations, including some inspired by real life.

    Some were very simple, like taking The Rock, shrinking him down to a 5-foot-tall version and changing his name to The Pebble:

    Others were more involved, but the ability to customize their face, hair and clothing from many options yielded some impressive look-alikes, such as Michael Jackson (one glove is not an option):

    One thing we discovered is that if you set every option to 0, you end up with a crash dummy, which we naturally called Crash Dummy:

    At the time, we created a guy named Jimmy Dean who today would clearly be called Ron Swanson:

    Each of us had “our” guy we used when we played.  Mine is a giant, glasses-wearing, blue-haired behemoth named Dr. Pain, Ph.D.:

     My brother branched out a bit, but one of his main guys was Disco Stu:

    There are so many others it would take me forever to post individually, so I’m going to just show them all in a nice little montage.  You’ll notice some thematically similar characters appearing together — we tried to give each guy a tag team partner.  Also note that some of the personas are complete inside jokes that will likely be incomprehensible.  Enjoy:

    If you’ve never seen Michael Jackson hit Mr. Clean with a chair, you’re missing out.  And call me.  We can make this happen.

    December 27, 2012 Uncategorized video games
  • Pennsylvania Story

    Knowing an author changes your reading experience, whether it’s reading into certain characters to try to pick out people from real life, or simply knowing something about them that reveals something about the story before the words do.

    This was the case with “Last Call in the City of Bridges” by Salvatore Pane, a guy I went to college with at Susquehanna.  I’m pretty sure we were also both members of the film club.  I’m also pretty sure the film club no longer exists.

    Because the novel is written in first-person, it’s impossible not to imagine him as the main character.  I’ve read books this year that had already been turned into movies, meaning I knew the actors and actresses who played vital roles and used them to picture the characters in the book.  I guess my brain just took the easy way out with this one and went to the most convenient image it could muster.

    One thing that is clear about Sal is his reverence for Kanye West.  If you follow him on any form of social media, you will see Kanye frequently.  He uses a Kanye quote in the beginning of the book.  So when he leads off a later chapter with a vague story about an ambitious guy who crashed his car and had to have his jaw wired shut, it took about .0023 seconds to know he was making a point using the one and only Kanye.  I wonder how non-acquainted readers experienced not only that section, but the main Michael Bishop character overall.

    The story brings up a lot about our society, the influences of our technological culture and how that effects our interpersonal relationships.  Anyone born in the 1980s is right at home with the role Nintendo, comic books and the beginning days of Facebook have with the characters.

    “Suddenly we were taking pictures with the express intent of posting them on the Internet, to prove our individual self-worth!  Because that’s what Facebook does.  It makes everyone matter.  It gives everyone a voice, albeit a voice contained within the parameters of the Facebook corporate entity.  Facebook is reality television for the everyday human.”

    As much as we recognize that that’s the case, and no matter how much we decry that behavior, we all do it.  If it’s not posted, pinned, Instagrammed or tweeted these days, did it happen?  Does your relationship “count” if its every event and evolution isn’t displayed on Facebook for everyone to see?

    But beyond the devices, it’s a story about young adults trying to find their way, to figure out how they fit together and into the city and world around them.  Anyone can identify with that.  Read this book!!

    Even before cracking open this story, I had been talking recently with a friend about the whole social media society and the way in which it changes the way people act.  I hesitate to share this anecdote because I absolutely cannot think of a way to tell the story without it sounding completely pretentious, but I do think it speaks to this idea.

    A few weeks ago I was taking the Metro home from a friend’s birthday celebration in Washington.  It was about 1:45 on Sunday morning, so you can imagine that several of my fellow riders were under the influence of something.  One poor kid was unable to contain the contents of his night (poor Metro employee who had to clean that up.)  But about 10 stations from my destination, a young woman I’ll estimate to be 24 laid down on a seat right next to the door in the middle of the car.  She used her purse as a pillow and slept soundly with a hole in the right knee of her stockings.  Obviously a rough night in some form.

    As we got to one of the last stations on the line, another young woman sitting in front of me pulled out her phone, lined up a perfect shot, and took a picture of the sleeping girl.  She got off the train with phone in hand, and no doubt the picture appeared in seconds on Facebook or Twitter with a mocking caption.

    I made eye contact with another young woman on the other side of the car who had been glancing over at the sleeping girl from time to time.  We pulled into the final stop, and she walked over to the middle door — a foot away from the sleeping girl — she looked at her, then stepped out onto the dark platform and went on with her night.  Other people filed out too, leaving just me, a male twice the size of a girl PASSED OUT at the end of a dark platform at nearly 2 a.m.  Obviously you know I was no threat, but unless I have the most innocent face in the world, none of those people should have assumed that.

    So to recap, we have a girl who clearly needed the tiniest bit of help — a nudge and an “Are you ok?” — and the most anyone else did was take a picture to make fun of her.  Is this how we acted before Facebook?

    (She assured me she was fine.)

    December 22, 2012 books Susquehanna Uncategorized
  • Supreme Knowledge

    If there were a channel that aired behind-the-scenes shows about the Supreme Court, I would need a bigger DVR.  The little things about the court fascinate me, just as the day-to-day work draws my interest.

    My latest read, Jeffrey Toobin’s “The Oath: The Obama White House and the Supreme Court,” naturally fed every bit of that.  It follows, as the name suggests, the work of the Court during the Obama administration, particularly the influence of Chief Justice John Roberts.

    The book is a companion to Toobin’s earlier work “The Nine,” which I read a few years ago (during a period in which I was not posting about every book.  But I did note it in the 2009 records.)

    The great thing about Toobin’s writing is that he tells a larger arc story — in this case, the influences that led up to the landmark health care and campaign finance decisions — while also dropping in personal details about the justices that you don’t get from their written opinions.

    Before reading this book I certainly didn’t know that Roberts played Peppermint Patty in his high school drama club’s production of “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.”  Same goes for Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s past as a high school cheerleader or the fact that Justice Antonin Scalia has nine kids.

    Toobin also points out how ardently former Chief Justice William Rehnquist insisted people call him “chief justice” while Roberts is more lenient in demanding the title.  In a world of immense coincidences, the day after I read this section of the book,  Roberts had an exchange with a lawyer at the court (as reported in the New York Times) illuminating just that point:

    “Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. asked Ms. Gilley for her position, and she responded with a discussion of an opinion by ‘Justice Rehnquist.’  Chief Justice Roberts corrected her reference to his predecessor, Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist. ‘He was the chief justice, by the way,’ Chief Justice Roberts said. ‘It matters to one of us.'”

    You may recall that during President Obama’s first inauguration, there was a little confusion about the oath, leading to Roberts administering it a second time.  Toobin gives a background of the legal discussions surrounding whether it was technically necessary for a president to say the oath at all, but also includes the interesting detail of where the mulligan oath was performed at the White House:

    “Presidents had long used the Map Room as a kind of hybrid, for occasions that they didn’t want to recognize as presidential business but that weren’t personal either.   A decade earlier, for that reason, Bill Clinton gave his grand jury testimony to the Kenneth Starr investigation in the Map Room.”

    Clearly we need a section in each room of the White House that tells the history of everything that happened there.  I’m sure there is a wealth of fascinating juxtapositions.

    If you follow the court at all, you know that Justice Anthony Kennedy has often been the swing vote that clinches a 5-4 majority.  But Toobin perfectly describes the way in which Kennedy sides with liberals on some issues and conservatives on others:

    “Kennedy was not a moderate but an extremist — of varied enthusiasms.”

    Easily the most interesting background section in the book for me though is about former Justice John Paul Stevens.  You’ll remember him as the guy who always wore a bow tie.  Toobin writes about how Stevens’s family opened a hotel in Chicago in 1927, then known as the Stevens Hotel.  It’s still there, now the Chicago Hilton.  I just checked, and you can stay there tonight for $119.

    Toobin’s insight to the interpersonal relationships between the justices is truly fascinating.  Justices you would think of as mortal enemies because of their polar opposite positions on cases are great friends outside of their work.  They even have fun with each other inside the seemingly boring text of their opinions.  He writes about how Stevens did a clerkship with former Justice Wiley B. Rutledge, “an FDR appointee Stevens always revered.”

    “When Stevens’s colleagues wanted to needle him, they would cite one of Rutledge’s opinions against him. (Kennedy referred to Rutledge three times in his Citizens United [v. Federal Election Commission] opinion.)”

    That anecdote is why I enjoy Toobin’s work so much.  Here, in one of the biggest decisions in years, a hotly anticipated case that was actually argued a rare two times, Kennedy couldn’t help but cite the decisions of Stevens’s mentor.  Who doesn’t have co-workers like that?

    December 22, 2012 books Supreme Court Uncategorized
  • Ending Rudolph’s Reign

    Rudolph, the reindeer with the red nose, has been around in song form since 1949, but after more than 60 years it’s time to re-examine the way we look at him.

    Gene Autry recorded that first version, beginning the song with the familiar: “You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen.  But do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?”

    The accepted interpretation is that he’s asking, “Do you remember this Rudolph guy?”  Until last night, I saw it that way too.  That is, until a friend of mine complained that this is a ridiculous notion.  If we know the lesser reindeer by name, why wouldn’t we remember the most famous one?

    My answer:  we’ve been looking at the song all wrong.  He’s not asking if we remember Rudolph, but rather if we want to end his reign of reindeer leadership through a recall election.  I may have spent too long thinking about this, but stay with me.

    Consider the structure of the Santa/reindeer team.  We have Santa, the unquestioned North Pole authority who plays a vital role in all of Christmas.  The reindeer, while not directly in charge, are necessary to guide the sleigh to houses all over the world.  At any point, they could go on strike and Christmas doesn’t happen.

    What we have is a system of divided government with an executive who needs the support of the legislature.  Santa can use his veto power to boss around the reindeer, but Rudolph and crew can just as easily shut down any of Santa’s proposals.

    The singer in this song obviously supports Santa and derides the reindeer as a know-nothing group that blindly follows its incompetent leader.  He wants to throw all of them out, but especially the overhyped one with the red nose.

    “All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names.  They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games.”

    Here he acknowledges that at one point even the other reindeer didn’t take Rudolph seriously.  Sure, he was on a few committees, but minor ones like the Sawdust Committee.  They never let him do anything that mattered.

    Then there was a “foggy Christmas Eve,” a day in which a Santa/reindeer rift threatened everything.  Santa cashes in all of his political chips and gets a shakeup in reindeer leadership.  He gets Rudolph appointed as their leader.  All of a sudden, the reindeer throw out all of their previous thoughts about Rudolph, everything they knew about this hopeless sad sack with antlers, and pretend he’s the greatest thing that ever happened.

    “They shouted out with glee, ‘Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, you’ll go down in history!!!!!'”

    The singer’s words are soaked in a syrupy glaze of sarcasm.  Everyone agrees this Rudolph guy is a loser, but now that he’s the leader, you’re all going to just pretend he’s the greatest thing that’s ever hit the North Pole?

    The other reindeer have long been a joke — “You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen…”

    But the biggest threat to Christmas is clearly Rudolph.  So, do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?

    My Christmas gift to you all — a picture of the National Christmas Tree!!

    December 21, 2012 Christmas Uncategorized
  • 12 in ’12 on 12/12/12

    This is the time of year you see a thousand stories recapping the past 12 months in some way — trends in entertainment, political happenings, whatever.  I’ve developed a similar system the past few years, beginning with compiling a list of what I thought were the best 9 posts of 2009, 10 in 2010 and 11 in 2011.

    As you may guess, today we’re here to knock out the 12 highlights of 2012.  I’m posting this on 12/12/12 but will not be waiting until 12:12 p.m. to do it.  I’m not crazy (and I’ll be asleep).  This is actually a really interesting exercise for me, reading back through my year and seeing what stands out.  So whether these are new to you, or you’re seeing them again too (in chronological order, not by merit), enjoy:

    Call Me Aunt Clara
    As a college sophomore, I bought a mini pink bunny suit as a gag Christmas gift in homage to “A Christmas Story.”  It became a family tradition to re-gift it each year, and we finally had a recipient small enough to wear it.  Includes cute video!

    Lame Lameness
    I’ve had some freak injuries, but tearing something in my knee while walking was certainly the most ridiculous one (I hope) I will ever suffer.  Maybe I just shouldn’t ride Metro.

    Carding Mr. Deeds & Tommy, Get Your Milk Carton
    I spot a moment in both Mr. Deeds and Snatch — movies I’ve seen many, many times — that make me re-think something fundamental about each story. (These are related, so they count as one entry.)

    You Think You Know
    A survey-style post more common on blogs of 14-year-old girls, but I found answering these questions about myself to be really interesting (and much more time consuming than I expected).

    Houston We Have a Draft
    After far too many hours typing away at Starbucks, I finally finish the first draft of my novel.  I’m still working on revising, but this was a HUGE milestone.

    If Left is Wrong, I Don’t Want to be Right
    After seeing an article about the downsides of being left-handed, I went to the important lefties in my life to get their perspective on our awesomeness.

    Put Me In Coach
    I make my debut pitching off a Major League mound.  Never mind that it was in the bullpen and the home Nationals weren’t even playing that day.

    Uncle Needs a Chill Pill
    Metro rides are often mundane, but sometimes they are hilarious.  Of course, it’s hard to deal with statements you think are funny when the speaker is two feet away, not talking to you and completely serious.

    And The Gold Medal Goes To…
    What began as a joke about marrying a duchess evolved into an Oscar winner.  When the Olympics hit London, I set my eyes on a different kind of gold.  This includes a bonus flashback to the “Call Me Maybe” era in America courtesy of the U.S. swim team.

    The Land Where Pizzas Smile
    A long quest to get a pizza place to arrange my pepperonis in the shape of a smiley face finally ends with success.  All I had to do was go to another state.

    Moshi Moshi Man
    Another shameless use of my niece to entice readers, but this one includes her quoting Michelle from “Full House.”  You’re welcome.

    Playoff Werthy
    The Washington Nationals and Jayson Werth provide perhaps the most incredible three innings of baseball I will ever witness.

    December 12, 2012 best of Uncategorized
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