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  • Where’s My Medal, and How You Like Them Apples?

    They’ve probably seen this day coming for a while, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Today the International Olympic Committee stripped Marion Jones’ teammates of their relay medals from the 2000 Olympics.

    Now the question is, how will they respond? Egg her house? Let the air out of her tires? Order a dozen pizzas and have them sent to her house? I wonder what the appropriate “screw you, hippie” action is after your Olympic medal is taken for someone else’s actions.

    Because Jones is currently serving a six-month prison sentence, I vote for a more targeted approach. The relay team members should visit Jones every day. They should bring photos of themselves giving Jones’ favorite belongings to random people on the street with big goofy grins. Each visit should also end with a song and dance routine titled “Where’s my medal, how you like them apples?”

    In short, I’d be pissed. There is a glimmer of hope for the gold-winning 400m team and the bronze medal 1600m team. They can still appeal the case, though it doesn’t appear they have much of a chance at keeping the hardware.

    At least they live in a world where bears can play ice hockey.

    Before I saw that bear, this was the most entertaining video of the week. Sea Lions need to get out more.

    Also for Garfield fans, check out the strip if you take out everything but Jon Arbuckle. Only slightly disturbing.

    And when good hugs go bad.

  • Life on the Row

    “Cannery Row in Monterrey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.”

    It is also a superb little novel by John Steinbeck that begins with that opening line. It is also, as Steinbeck writes in the next line, “the gathered and scattered, tin and iron and rust and splintered wood, chipped pavement and weedy lots and junk heaps, sardine canneries of corrugated iron, honky tonks, restaurants and whore houses, and little crowded groceries, and laboratories and flop houses.”

    Cannery Row is about this town, one that is full of people so ordinary even the simplest pleasure is a major event. Its key resident is Doc, a scientist who experiments with nature and holds the reverence of every single person in Cannery Row. They all owe him something, though few monetarily. Everyone seems to want to do good by Doc.

    If you’ve never read Steinbeck, I wouldn’t recommend you start with Cannery Row. There are more iconic novels in his collection. But once you’ve finished with The Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden, I’d certainly suggest this member of the family.

    Doc, in addition to being the most respected man in town, also loves hamburgers and beer. How often do those things go together?

    In fact, on one of his trips to collect marine samples for his work, he makes several stops for such sustenance. He even once tries a beer milkshake for the sole reason that someone once joked he would, and he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. (Don’t try it).

    After several of the beer stops (he’s driving himself hundreds of miles down California highways), he decides to pick up a hitch hiker to help pass the time. He carefully selects one who won’t talk too much and they get in the car. They drive a bit, only to stop for another beer. The hitch hiker suggests maybe it’s not such a good idea to drink and drive. Doc disagrees: “Get out of the car…I’m going to punch you in the nose if you aren’t out of this car by the time I count to ten.

    It’s clear why Doc is the most respected man in town.

    One of the things I love about Steinbeck is he always has chapters that have absolutely zero to do with the plot, but help give the character of the town. One in Cannery Row talks about a guy breaking his own record for ice skating on top of a pole in town. The whole town comes to watch as he stays up there day and night. Several chapters later, Steinbeck goes back to a random guy in town who can’t sleep. He’s tossing in turning, his mind churning over the possibilities of an unknown answer. So the man walks a distance into town and yells up at the sleeping skater. He wants to know how the man goes to the bathroom up on the pole. He walks back home, and climbs back in bed with his wife. “He’s got a can up there.”

    Cannery Row is really a story about people trying to do well with what they have. But in the end, it’s also important to do things the right way as well. For these people who have so little, being respected–or at least as respected as they once were–is paramount.

    The residents know they have to deal with one another so they accept certain realities in order to best get on with their own lives. The store owner who would like to continue his business without some thugs burning it down lets the men sleep in his extra house rent free. They talk at first about a monthly rate, but both know it is just a show.

    The proprietor of the bordello pays exorbitant taxes and makes astronomical donations to every charitable event in town. She knows that’s the only way to keep the cops at bay and city leaders from banning her practice.

    That’s life in Cannery Row.

    Next Up: F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Beautiful and Damned”

    April 8, 2008 books Uncategorized
  • Paying the Not-Paying-Attention Tax

    Today I charged myself a tax. Granted, it was only 50 cents, but its effect will be long-lasting.

    After grabbing a sandwich from Subway, I went up to the vending machine area at work to grab a soda. In my hand was a crisp one dollar bill, which I planned to use on one 50-cent can of soda goodness.

    I looked for a moment at the bottled soda, which costs a dollar but does provide more overall ounces. But as I inserted the dollar into the machine, I figured I could get more soda for that dollar if I just got two cans.

    And then I out-thought myself. Seeing root beer in the machine, my question of which kind of canned soda to acquire was instantly answered. I punched in B6 and waited for root beer glory to descend into the customer pickup area at the bottom.

    No sooner did I hit the numbers did I realize I was a dumbass. This particular machine has a clear front, so you can see the cans just like bags of pretzels in a snack machine. Only in the root beer section, the first two slots were empty meaning there was exactly a -34989 chance I was getting a root beer.

    As I picked my change out of the machine I pondered my next move. I could walk down the hall to the vending machine powers that be and issue a complaint for a refund. But then I decided I very much deserved that 50-cent punishment for being an idiot.

    I used the remaining pair of quarters to get a Dr. Pepper and move on with my life having learned a valuable lesson.

    Here’s to never paying the not-paying-attention tax ever again.

    March 25, 2008 food not smart Uncategorized
  • The Audacity of Hope

    This has nothing to do with Eliot Spitzer or prostitutes.

    Rather a politician who has not yet been linked to such a scandal, and hopefully never will. I just finished Barack Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope,” which is book number four on the year if you are counting at home.

    It took me a lot longer to read than I thought, mainly because of the density and thoroughness with which Obama tackles each subject. I’m certainly not complaining either, since it was nice to go so in-depth with where a candidate is coming from rather than relying on a third-party article or a soundbite.

    If you don’t have the desire or the time to tackle the entire book, check it for a few days and read the chapters on Race and The World Beyond Our Borders. Obama discusses the challenges of race in America, and how the fight that reached its apex in the 1960s is far from over. He also talks about how those discussions and the outcomes of the civil rights movement are progressing into an America that is no longer a black-and-white discussion.

    “Such a shift in emphasis is not easy: Old habits die hard, and there is always a fear on the part of many minorities that unless racial discrimination, past and present, stays on the front burner, white America will be let off the hook and hard-fought gains may be reversed. I understand these fears–nowhere is it ordained that history moves in a straight line, and during difficult times it is possible that the imperatives of racial equality get shunted aside.”

    It took me a while to pick out a section of this chapter. But the point of history sometimes have to move laterally, or even take a few steps back before moving forward the right way captures Obama’s point. Just before that paragraph, he talks about how to best address minority problems. His solutions include “strategies that help all Americans” to go after the underlying issues making it more difficult for portions of society to break out of cycles of self-defeat. Those are people of all backgrounds who end up “stuck” in situations that make it harder to achieve “success.”

    “Schools that teach, jobs that pay, health care for everyone who needs it, a government that helps out after a flood, a long with measures that ensure our laws apply equally to everyone.”

    Obama argues that some domestic failure is a product of kids who aren’t prepared for the structured environment of school because of broken homes from the start. They don’t end up with the qualifications to get jobs that pay well, or end up with criminal records that preclude certain fields. Without health insurance, they can’t afford preventive care or economically catastrophic medical bills.

    I can’t fully do this section justice. A lot of interesting points informed by historical and economic measures.

    Later Obama turns his attention to America’s place in the world. Again, an effective history makes his arguments poignant and relevant. He uses his experience growing up in Indonesia and the United States’ policies towards that nation as a microchasm of larger U.S. foreign policy.

    After several years of toxic moves in relation to America’s image and influence by the current administration, Obama’s outlook is refreshing. He says it’s hard for the U.S. to demand other countries change standards and habits when it comes to environmental policy, nuclear disarmament, human rights and hostile regimes when we don’t lead the way in making those changes ourselves.

    Obama lays out what he would do in Iraq and how he would work to reestablish America as a positive influence internationally.

    Even if you disagree with his politics, or at least what you know, the book is certainly worth a read to better understand his positions. Obama is a great storyteller, using a plethora of history to weave lessons of the past into arguments of today in a thoughtful fashion.

    Next up, “Cannery Row” by John Steinbeck.

    March 10, 2008 books Uncategorized
  • What Big Eyes You Have

    This image thing has gone a little too far.

    It’s one thing for celebrities or other looks-minded adults to get plastic surgery, or for models to be airbrushed to touch up professional photos. But kids should just be kids.

    In last week’s issue of Newsweek there is an article about parents paying for touch-ups in their kids’ school photos. School. Photo. Touch-ups.

    That defeats the entire purpose of picture day. You want to capture what the kid looked like in second grade and look back later with a comical comment. If you change Timmy’s freckles or that piece of hair sticking up, you might as well just print out a random kid’s photo from the Internet.

    The article says the service started as a way to take out scrapes and bumps. That’s fine. Those are things that changed the kid’s appearance for a few days, and just happened to come at the wrong time.

    But another company cited offers customers “new hair, skin, makeup, eyebrows and even facial expressions.” That’s completely ridiculous.

    I hated picture day. I’m not the biggest fan of being in pictures today. Yet even with an ability to use Photoshop, I would never think of seriously changing a photo like that. Sure, it’s fun to put your head on Elmo’s body once in a while, but you wouldn’t change the picture you send to Grandma.

    The only good side is that people shallow enough to want to pay for such a service are allowed to hand over money to people willing to take advantage of their vanity. God bless America.

    February 28, 2008 kids technology Uncategorized
  • Rooting for the Bad Guy(s)

    Any sports fan can tell you sometimes you watch a game just because you like the sport. It doesn’t matter who is playing, and thus you don’t really care who wins.

    Oscar Wilde’s “The Picture of Dorian Gray” is like that. It’s hard to find someone to really get behind, but the event, the story is such that you still need to know what happens.

    This is the first book in the project to be recommended by a friend. Well more like endorsed after I had selected it, but whatever. It’s always nice to know someone you can discuss a piece of art with, especially after you’ve invested so much energy in enjoying it yourself.

    And especially when you’re trying to figure out who the “good” guy is in the story.

    I can’t remember reading a book where the protagonist didn’t live up to the “pro” in his name. Maybe I’m completely blanking, but it seems to me the basic structure of effective storytelling in novels usually involves the reader’s support of the main character.

    Dorian Gray is a hard guy to support. He’s rich. Everyone tells him he’s the most beautiful person they’ve ever seen. He doesn’t work. He’s moody. He’s incredibly vain. All he needs is a small dog to carry around everywhere and a catch phrase like “that’s dandy” to make him a 19th century British Paris Hilton.

    And who wants to root for that? You’d be more likely to wish for his hansom to run off the side of a cobblestone street and run into a tree.

    Yet Wilde creates this life for Gray and the people around him that is so intruiging you have to keep reading. Maybe it’s the fact that the obvious outcome is to have Gray or one of his cohorts to have some sort of revelation and become a good person. You want to see that happen as a confirmation that you’re on the right side of the moral fence.

    If the Oscars were handed out to books in Wilde’s day, the Best Supporting Actor would go to the most pessimistic man ever written. Yet his diatribes are some of the best parts of the book:

    “The basis of optimism is sheer terror. We think that we are generous because we credit our neighbor with the possession of those virtues that are likely to be a benefit to us…I have the greatest contempt for optimism. As for a spoiled life, no life is spoiled but one whose growth is arrested.”

    This is the epitome of Lord Henry. The first half of his speech is off-putting; what’s so wrong with having a positive outlook? Then he comes back with a better point about personal growth–it doesn’t matter what you are doing, just keep working at improving yourself in some way.

    This is the man giving advice to “Paris.” It’s like having multiple people who are so rich they don’t have to work, who value beauty and societal stature above just about anything, who KNOW they are better than everyone and live with a complete disregard for normality all running around one of the world’s largest cities together. If only Wilde had written with a little more verisimilitude…

    Quick side note, verisimilitude is one of my favorite words that you really have to try to incorporate in everyday use. That’s probably the first time I’ve ever done it. I’m excited. And to save you the trip to the dictionary website, it’s a noun meaning the depiction of reality (as in art or literature).

    I took a chance in grabbing this one on a bookstore trip, expecting maybe a B experience. But Wilde delivered a solid A in one of the surprisingly good reads I’ve had in a while. If you like some of the “classic”–Dickens/Hugo-esque stuff, you’ll enjoy it.

    Next up: Barack Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope”

    February 25, 2008 books Uncategorized
  • May You Rest in Peace

    This morning I read a story about a guy paying $17,000 for pieces of hair that may have been George Washington’s.

    MAY have been. For $17,000 I want video of Washington cutting it off his own head, signing it and extensive DNA testing to confirm the authenticity.

    But that’s not even the best part of the story. The Associated Press article was printed all over the country with a final line about just how that hair MAY have been obtained. It said the hair might have been snipped when Washington’s body was disinterred in 1837. End of article.

    Wait just a minute here. Our first president was disinterred 38 years after his death? AP, you’re just going to throw that out there without an explanation? I thought maybe this was some sort of common knowledge that I somehow missed growing up in the shadow of Washington’s city. But after a little Google searching, I don’t think that’s the case.

    According to a source I’m not entirely confident about, Washington’s tomb at Mt. Vernon wasn’t all that great. Grave robbers made an attempt at some of his family’s remains, so a better tomb was built and Washington’s body was moved.

    Ok, not that exciting. But at another site, I came across a surprising trend. If you want to rest in peace, in one place, don’t be president of the United States. Grave robbers also made an attempt at Abraham Lincoln’s remains. Six, yes SIX other presidents were either exhumed or disinterred after being laid to rest.

    John Quincy Adams, James K. Polk, Zachary Taylor, Rutherford B. Hayes, William McKinley and Warren Harding were all moved at some point following their death. How did I miss this information? I feel robbed. Not grave robbed, but maybe grave robbed of the mind.

    Book report tomorrow.

    February 24, 2008 Uncategorized
  • World Out of Order

    Four words.

    That’s all it took to completely change the course of my day.

    Let me set the scene. It’s Sunday morning, about 10:30. I’m exhausted after leaving my second overnight shift of the weekend. I’m also hungry–not a good combination.

    But things aren’t that dire. Having worked those weekend shifts, I have the next two days off. In fact, it’s more like three days off since I still had the rest of Sunday.

    So I decide to attack one of my main problems, the hunger, and swing by Taco Bell on my way home. It’s an easy trip, with TB just off the main road I take home every day.

    I pull into the drive thru, no line. I bark out my order, “Two Cheesy Gordita Crunches and a large Wild Cherry Pepsi.”

    At this point, I am mere minutes from several foodstuffs that make me quite happy. There’s Wild Cherry Pepsi, a delicacy rarely seen at restaurants. TB just happens to be such a high-quality establishment that they offer the fine beverage. Then there’s the Cheesy Gordita Crunch, a crunchy, chewy, cheesy slice of Mexican heaven.

    For years I have partaken in Taco Bell feasts, almost always involving the Mexican Pizza. But being a growing boy, I need another item to compliment the M-P. I searched and sampled, mixed it up and went through pretty much the entire menu. There was the Nacho Cheese Chalupa, the Enchirito, Spicy Chicken Burrito and the basic Crunchy Taco. All are serviceable sidekicks, but nothing tops the Cheesy Gordita Crunch as the perfect compliment to the M-P.

    It’s like pairing an All-Star shooting guard with the perfect point guard. Nature is full of perfect duos. I mean, Batman is good and all, but Batman & Robin are a force to be reckoned with. The Cheesy Gordita Crunch is the perfect Robin.

    Until today.

    The four words that destroyed Sunday? “We don’t have those.”

    WHAT.

    “We don’t have those.”

    Flustered and confused, my mind tried to wrap around this new reality while my stomach screamed for an alternate solution. I backpedaled and stammered, brought myself back from the brink of unconscious disbelief and managed to spit out a backup order. I was two miles down the road before I even knew what food I had chosen.

    Superman is dead. The Earth revolves around Mars. Michael Jordan is a soccer player. Bacon is health food. Water is toxic. Waves move backwards into the sea. Snow is boiling hot. My world is in disarray.

    February 17, 2008 Taco Bell Uncategorized
  • Money Management

    I’m not going to pretend to be an economic expert. I have never taken any classes in economics, personal finance or in contract law. But I feel like I have a grasp on at least a small sense of reality and a basic ability to crunch some numbers.

    That’s why this story about Latrell Sprewell had me scratching my head. Years ago when Spree complained about not being able to support his family with a 3 year, $21 million contract I just thought he was crazy. Apparently, he’s so bad at money management that $21 million is nowhere close to what he needs to scrape by.

    Take this latest news. He sells is $1.5 million yacht and his house is in danger of foreclosure. Read further and you see that he’s only paid $200,000 on the yacht. Then there’s the $110,000 he’s paid on a $405,000 house.

    To recap, on what are probably two of the biggest purchases in his life, Spree has paid $310,000 of close to $2 million that he owes.

    That’s from a man who made $14 million in the same year he turned down that $21 million deal.

    $14 million in one year. He has played 13 seasons in the NBA. Even at the NBA’s minimum salary, Sprewell should have plenty to cover those costs. Or maybe buying a $1.5 million yacht isn’t the best idea to begin with.

    But that brings up the question of just where all of that cash went. I don’t know the man or anyone who does. Frankly, I don’t feel like taking some time on Google to find out more about his habits. I’d much rather speculate on what Spree is buying.

    I bet he has at least one llama. Maybe even a few alpacas. They’re fun and seem like the kind of thing a rich guy would buy just because he had a $14 million contract. I know I would.

    What about pop rocks? I bet Spree has an entire closet full of pop rocks in all kinds of flavors. Maybe there’s that one flavor he doesn’t like, so if you’re hanging out at his house and love sour apple you’re SOL.

    158 LCD monitors in his vehicle. He can only watch one of them at a time, and really there’s no need for even that. But he’s the only guy he knows with 158 of them. That’s how he rolls.

    What better to watch on your 158 LCD screens in your car than every Land Before Time DVD. I think there are about 34839 of them buy now. Then throw in that he probably has one copy for the car and a separate copy of each one at home for the kids, and that’s a lot of scratch down the drain.

    No ridiculous waste of money collection is complete without your very own carousel, especially one that utilizes live horses. Sure, it seems like a cool idea at first. But then they start wanting food and to be cared for. Suddenly a small investment turns into a huge money pit.

    So sorry Spree. I guess I didn’t think it through when I started to criticize your money management skills. I realize now you had a lot of expensive necessities to take care of.

    Say hi to the alpacas for me.

    Another quick money note. Reports have Hillary Clinton loaning $5 million to her campaign. In a CNN.com story I learned it’s not exactly a new thing. John Kerry did the same in 2004. But what was enlightening was that you are allowed under campaign finance laws to charge interest to your own campaign when you are reimbursed.

    Maybe Spree should have run for president.

    February 14, 2008 basketball Uncategorized
  • Living by the Book

    The second book in the Year of 20 is a tale of one man’s quest to follow the Bible as closely as possible for one year. The author, A.J. Jacobs, is not the inventor of the one-year self quest, but is part of my inspiration. The humorous ways he strings together his experiences with his off-beat goals makes has him climbing my list of heroes.

    “The Year of Living Biblically” is a follow up to a book of his I read last summer called “The Know-It-All.” That project was reading the Encyclopaedia Brittainica from cover to cover, and if you’re going to be one of the 57 percent of Americans who read just one book this year, that should be it.

    Shockingly, Jacobs is still married when this book begins. And when it ends. You know you’ve found “the one” when she puts up with crazy quests that consume large portions of your time for several years. Especially when young children are involved.

    Jacobs starts with the Old Testament, and makes a list of biblical rules he finds. When he prints it out, the set of rules comprises 72 pages. Like any any good quest, he thinks about the scope at the beginning and comes up with guidelines. He makes a practical decision early on to focus on certain rules to make the quest even possible. He divides them into to two basic groups–the “big” ones and the bizarre ones.

    My favorite odd rule, or rather the way he lives it out, is paying your workers at the end of each day. “Wages of a hired servant shall not remain with you all night until the morning,” (Leviticus 19:13).

    His babysitter needs to be paid by check at the end of each week for her tax purposes. So Jacobs pays her in cash each day, and then asks her to return it at the end of the week in exchange for a check. Can you imagine going to work one day and having your boss propose that kind of setup? I’d probably just walk out of the room and come back in again like the conversation never took place. Also take into account, he hasn’t shaved in several months and has switched to a wardrobe of nothing but white clothing.

    His daily wear is a great mental visual. Jacobs lives in New York city, and recounts his feelings about walking out on the streets with the aforementioned attire, beard, and sometimes a 10-string harp or walking stick. He talks about a wonderful moment on the subway where he looks up to see a monk, who gives him a smile and a nod like he’s in some kind of dedicated multi-faith religious community. It’s interesting to see how small changes on the outside completely change how some people view and treat him.

    But by far the funniest rule he attempts to follow is the stoning of adulterers and Sabbath breakers. He decides a loophole in the stoning ritual is the lack of mention of how big the stones have to be. So he gathers a bunch of pebbles and puts them in his pocket. He seeks out people working on the Sabbath and flicks them into their back, or casually drops them on the person’s shoe. Unfortunately, everyone notices, so he apologizes, picks up his stone and quickly walks away.

    Until he meets a guy in the park. “Hey, you’re dressed queer,” an old man says. After a brief discussion, Jacobs learns the man is an adulterer. The man says he’ll punch Jacobs in the face if he hits the man with a stone. So of course Jacobs flicks one right into the man’s chest. That’s just brilliant commitment to your project.

    If you’re not going to read the book, at least go to a bookstore and look at the pictures. They are high-larious. And if there wasn’t massive itching and discomfort involved, I would totally go for his massive year-long-beard look. It’s quite enviable.

    If you’ve ever had any sort of religious background, or are interested in Judeo-Christian teachings, there is an interesting examination behind the humor. Jacobs brings a host of scholars and historical perspectives to examine the rules he is following and tries to discover why they are what they are. In many cases, there is a camp that has an explicit reasoning for a particular item, while another points out that for as much as we think we understand there is so much we never can.

    Jacobs has a Jewish background but is not practicing. One of the things he struggles with at the beginning is praying several times a day. He grows to find that a time he looks forward to and gets something out of, even if he’s not entirely sure what he believes. An interesting take on slowing down for parts of each day and each week to reflect, give thanks and focus on being a better person.

    “The Year of Living Biblically: One Man’s Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible” by A.J. Jacobs.

    Starting tomorrow….”The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

    January 28, 2008 books nerdness Uncategorized
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