Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.

My internet has been acting all funky this morning- and it's really getting on my nerves. I almost lost the previous post, which, for some reason only known to those dieties in charge of the internet, wasn't posting. I have recently retaught myself the lesson to not repeatedly refresh when trying to post, but I managed to save it as a draft and post it eventually.

Anyways. Having not heard from my friend I was hoping to stay with when I reach St. Paul this weekend, I have started to look for a hotel. Generally speaking, a hotel is the best way to go. I'd stay with my dad, but he's got a full house already, what with all 3 of my stepsisters at home, and he's super-busy this time of year. He doesn't need my best friend and I lounging around, drinking all his beer and eating his food.

We'll see. I'm feelings rather weird, as the sunburn on my head is peeling profusely. It truly is a hard knocks life.

It's official.

I've just sent out two e-mails with the same title. I'm getting sick of typing that.

However, it is offical. I am heading up to St. Paul for the weekend. While there I will get to see a certain redheaded friend of mine and her beau, a certain accordion-sporting Canadian. I'm excited. I get to meet Joey for the first time. I also get to see my father and brother, a couple of hoodlums who are presently planning a trip to Chicago later this month.

Also official is my completion of the Time Traveler's Wife, a book recommended by J and commented on by All Thing Jen(nifer) in her blog. First off, I think the copy I read was defective. The last section was in there twice, so I read the last 20 pages or so before the bulk of the book. I intially thought that this was intentional- but now I don't think so. Someone should look into this. Anyways, one of Jen(nifer)'s readers was curious to know the male perspective on this, and although not being what I would consider to be the typical male, I'll try to do my best.

I liked the way the book was written, basically in a blog style, telling each side of a lifelong relationship. Although it was more romance than science fiction, it was still entertaining, but never really grabbed me. It was also fun to read the descriptions of Chicago, the city I fondly call home. I found the ending and the plot to be a little too predictable, but I'm having bad luck with plots lately. All in all, it was a nice read, but not something I would classify as something I would recommend. If it were a movie, I would call it a "date movie," so we'll call it a whole new beast, the "date book."

Movie reviews

I've been slacking on sharing the movies I've seen. Plus, I'm responding to a comment as to whether or not I got to see Fahrenheit 9/11. I may spoil a thing or two, so read at your own risk.

I didn't. J and I walked up to the theatre last night to find that the 7:30 show was sold out. Kinda freaky for the Davis on a Monday, but it is a popular movie, it seems.

Last week, however, for J's birthday, I took her to see Coffee and Cigarettes, which was a fun movie to watch, even though at times the pace was strange, and some of the jokes were repeated too often, but I liked it overall, and was rewarded for my patience time and again(who doesn't want to hear the line 'Groundhog Day, Ghostbustin' mutha-fucka' Bill Murray!'). One thing I couldn't figure out, and just found out, is that the scene that was older(this film was 17 years in the making) was the first one- I was surprised to learn that.

So, after being thwarted in my attempt to see 9/11 yesterday, J and I decided to head back to the local rental store and check out Mystic River. I was less than impressed. Although the movie was very well acted, the "twist" at the end was predictable and almost trite- and the character development seemed almost an afterthought- especially early on. I didn't identify with anyone until we were more than halfway through the movie. Seeing all the Boston views made me miss my second favorite city.

I am planning on seeing 9/11 this week, provided I can get to the theatre before tickets sell out. I will blog my official review afterwards.

The magic of the 4-day work week.

I've had an overabundance of 4-day work weeks lately, and I'm going to sorely miss them when they're gone. First off, way back in May, I missed a day sick. The next week, well that Monday was Memorial Day. After that, Reagan died, so I got another day off. Then I had a normal work week, followed by another, then I took yesterday off, for recovery from the ride(and my subsequent hangover), and I get next Monday off!

Who ever knew working in this field yielded so many days off? I sure didn't!

A knee update: still bad, but managable- I expect I'll feel better in a couple days. This does not delay the seeing of the doctor- I've only got 363 days until the next MS Ride, and I'm not planning on being hindered by knee problems at all!

Lessons learned and other things.

This weekend was one of the most fun weekends I've had. Sadly, my right knee decided it wasn't going to be as fun as I wanted it to be. It went out around mile 37 on Saturday's ride. I still managed to do almost 80 miles, but couldn't do the century, which was my overall goal for the weekend. Yesterday I wanted to do the 75-mile course, but knew that my knee wouldn't do it, so I biked the 35-mile course. The lesson to be learned in this case is: get your knees fixed before the ride.

Don't worry. I'm off to the doctor this week, and will hopefully at least one surgery before the end of summer.

The ride was immense fun. Coming into each town with people cheering us on, coming into the finish lines with people cheering and thanking me was outstanding.

My best friend couldn't make the trip, so my friend J stepped up and helped us out by being our equipment manager for the weekend. Without her, we couldn't have gotten through the weekend.

A very, very big thank you to all those who supported me and helped raise money for my cause. I have topped $3500 now, and am looking for $1500 more. Please, if you can, contribute to my cause. If you've already contributed, thank you again.

Well, I've got the day off from work to recover(mostly from my hangover). I'm probably going to try to see Fahrenheit 9/11, if I can find a movie theatre that's close enough to the train. And if I can manage to get myself off my ass.

Jack or George?

I've said before in this blog(sorry, too lazy to track down the link) that Jack Ryan shouldn't try to run. It's too soon for Illinois voters, who only associate the name Ryan with George H., and the licenses for bribes scandal which pretty well ruined Illinois republicans for years.

I will agree with what Peter Fitzgerald, retiring republican senator:

"I told him that it troubled me greatly that so many party leaders who had no trouble stomaching years and years of corruption and insider deals and scandals under George Ryan were now lining up to throw stones at Jack (no relation to George Ryan)," Fitzgerald said.

"I think the public stoning of Jack Ryan is one of the most grotesque things I've seen in politics," he said. He said he talked to Ryan on Thursday but hadn't spoken with him since then.

It is grotesque. It's image saving. It's the christian right saying, well, you can sin with drugs and greed and draft-dodging, but be damned if you do something weird with your penis, even if it is with your wife.

I am reminded of a Dharma and Greg episode where Greg is running for some office and is caught having sex with his wife in his car, and is lauded for actually having sex with his wife in his car.

And in the end, if I were married to Jeri Ryan, well...

UPDATED: Virtual Reality?

My friend A. sent me a link to this, a German site where you are to help guide a drunken reveller home. I've tried it a few times, apparently you're supposed to move your mouse left and right to counter-act his teetering(my German isn't that good). My best so far is 69 meters.

Give it a whirl. It's fun.

Good call Pat, for noticing that I forgot to post the link. My best, BTW, is up to 72 meters.

I'm still a bit concussed, methinks.

How does a bald guy know so much hair metal?

Well, I wasn't always bald, for one thing. Remind me to get an old picture of the early 90's Dave up on here sometime- you can see all the hair glory.

Anyways- take the 80's Hair Metal Quiz here. I'll admit I only got 8 out of 10- but I second-guessed myself and lost a point there. My bad. The other one I should have known, but just plain forgot. It happens.

Rock on!

The Time Traveler's Dave?

I had a rather interesting Time Traveler's Wife style moment this morning. I went to bed last night, rather exhausted, probably around 11. I am an old man, and 5 am comes earlier every damn day. Anyways, I distinctly remember my alarm going off, being unable to find the snooze button(which is ironic, as it is on most alarm clocks, the largest button on the clock) so I reset the alarm for 5:20, and went back to sleep, half worried that I didn't set it right, and would sleep through the alarm. Suddenly, I awake to a group of people outside my window singing "Redemption Song" who aren't getting many of the words right. I presume they are drunk, but I look at my clock and see it tell me that it is 7:21 in the morning. In a panic I shoot out of bed and run to the bathroom. On my way, I realize that it is far too dark out to be 7:21, unless it's really cloudy out. I stopped at my computer, and tried to read the clock- it said 1:22. I found my watch -same results- 1:22. I went back to my bedroom, read both the VCR and alarm clock, and realized it must have actually been 1:30. But I needed proof- I needed the only clock in my house that is updated via satellite- my cell phone. Sure as hell, it was only 1:30. I uneasily went back to bed, only to wake up 3 hours later, well before my alarm, again confused and a little pissy that I was awake. I double-checked what time my alarm was set for, and sure enough, 5:20.

So, do I have any DeTamble genes in me? I doubt it. At least, I hope not. It is a weird course of events, though.

You take the good, you take the bad...

From On Being (un)Funny, you can link to one of the strangest things I've ever read, and if you're really brave, you can go to the homesite. Try to avoid giggling helplessly.

Even I daydream at work, but never have I gone this far...

It's a long read(if you get into the details), but a necessary one. Read this. Try not to laugh too much. Or be too freaked out. I expect most reactions will be a combination of the two.

In much sadder news, a major contributor to the computer world has died.

Post #900

How exciting to be able to keep track of how many posts I've made. After 1000, I'll stop reminding everyone how many posts I've made.

It's been a busy morning(hence the late blogging)- one of us has the next two days off, and my boss is out of the office, so his phones are forwarded to us. Not to mention I've been putting the final touches on the MS Ride coordination I have to do for my team, so I've been a busy guy this morning.

There is good news, too. My headache seems to be subsiding, so I should be back to 100% soon- just in the nick of time, as it were, what with the ride in 2 days. Of course, it could just be the drugs working really, really well.

As always, we shall see.

Ta me air meisce!

Take the quiz: "Which Random Irish Gaelic Phrase Are You? "

Ta me air meisce
Ta me air meisce - 'I am drunk.'You enjoy a drink - or five - now and then. You can usually be found in a pub - it doesn't matter which one, because they all look the same after a few drinks - or hugging the porcelain.

A couple of my readers should notice something about question number 5 that I found incredibly amusing.

Questions I would add.

This earlier post asked the ever-popular questions about things that effected our lives, relatively specifically tuned to those of us who were growing up in the 80's. Here's a couple questions I will ask, and try to answer for myself:

7. Where were you during the Miracle on Ice?
I was watching TV in the living room with my dad and brother, rooting on Team USA.

8. Where were you when Reagan was shot?
I think I was at school, because I remember hearing about it over a loudspeaker.

That's all I can think of, for now.

Songs they forgot about

The AFI is at it again, producing a list of the best movie songs of all time. Here's what they forgot:

Darth Vader's March from the Star Wars Original Trilogy
Every goddamn song from Blazing Saddles
Theme from Orgazmo
Faber College Theme from Animal House
Ghostbusters by Ray Parker, Jr from Ghostbusters
Spies Like Us from Spies Like Us
Pretty much every song from the Hi Fidelity soundtrack
Same thing for Grosse Point Blank(c'mon, Joe Strummer was music director)
The entire soundtrack for Spanking the Monkey(music by Morphine)
Uncle Fucka from South Park
Better Off Dead from Better Off Dead
Soundtrack for Yellow Submarine
Hotdogs with Everything and Love Kills from Sid & Nancy
Police Academy Theme
We'll Meet Again from Dr. Stranglove

There's more, but I'm separated from my DVD collection and not in the best state of mental health, so I'll have to append as I think of more. I would link to each movie, but I'm going to leave it to you, my dear readers, to go to imdb.com and look up each song, if you are so inclined.

I'm also willing to entertain additions. You know where to leave them.

UPDATED: Those were the days...

Way back when I was in 9th grade, I had a wonderful girlfriend, and we were mad about each other. It was nice. We used to hang out all the time, and tell our parents that we were playing Cribbage- when we were actually making out. At first we really were playing, then it got progressively dirtier. It was fun. It was devious. Nowadays, I can't for the life of me remember how to play the damn game, and I was rather amused to discover this on the Yahoo! Games website "history of Cribbage" section:

Invented by English poet and playwright Sir John Suckling around 1631, this fast-paced card game is unusual in that it traditionally uses a board to keep track of the score.

I chortle at the inventor's name. Mostly because a much, much younger Logan's Dave spent quite a bit of time sucking face, and giving hickies during marathon matches that lasted for hours. I could go into more details, but I'd like to avoid turning my silly little blog into a sexblog. I will say that we would sometimes engage in activites similar to this, but never got caught.

Unless, of course, I've got a really, really good story to tell.

UPDATED: The funny thing post

Was screwing up my blog. So I deleted it. More accurately, I edited out the picture, and mistakenly hit "Save as Draft" instead of "Publish Post." I have no idea where it's gone to. Maybe I'll look for it later. Or I'll track down the link and repost it.

My DSL works like a charm now. If only my computer did the same thing, I'd be getting somewhere. If my brain worked properly, I might be in even better shape. I was hoping to be through the headaches by today- the symptoms usually fade within 82 hours- but last longer as you get older and if you have had multiple concussions. I am, of course, pushing on 31, and this is my fourth- not a good recipe.

We'll have to see.

I reposted it, without the picture. Turns out I still have some reasoning skills left!

DSL! DSL! DSL will fix everything!

After some serious setbacks, I finally got the damn thing running. What could a computer professional like myself consider serious setbacks? Windows ME. It crashed 4 times(count 'em, four) during the installation. After that, I had gotten so fed up I started to upgrade to XP- only to have that installation fail, after running for 45 minutes. Then there was 20 minutes of uninstall time, after which there was finally success.

So, this is my first blog entry with a DSL. Sorry, I was hoping it was going to be several hours earlier and quite a bit happier.

It's like the Friday Five, just 80's oriented.

From All Things Jen(nifer):

1. Where were you when you heard that Ronald Reagan died?
Just got home from a bike ride, and turned on the TV.

2. Where were you on September 11, 2001?
I had gone to bed the night before at 5am or so, and was sleeping when my girlfriend woke me up and told me about the first plane. I was shocked, but fell back to sleep, thinking it was an accident. When she woke me up for the second one, I thought the first time was a dream. I was awake after that, watching the TV constantly until I had to leave for work at 3.

3. Where were you when you heard that Princess Diana died?
At a bar on the Southwest side of Chicago- a woman who worked for me moonlighted as a bartender, so I was trashed on Okochim and VO- all for the cost of $5. My friend T and I were playing pool.

4. Do you remember where you were when you heard Kurt Cobain had died?
I had walked into my fellow RA's dorm room, and he told me. I wasn't that concerned.


5. Where were you when the Challenger exploded?
6th grade Math class, sitting next to E.M., a girl I had a HUGE crush on. The computer lab guy came in and told us.

6. Where were you when the 0J verdict was announced?
Probably doing something along the lines of not caring. It was obvious who did it, and he got off. I lost a lot of faith in the system that day.

I'd expand on this, but I'm leaving work in 2 minutes. Maybe later.
After I install my DSL and maybe take a nap- clear the head a bit.

Funny thing about this-

[Imagine that this space is filled with a picture of a depressed-looking John Cusak sitting amongst pile after pile of vinyl.]

Good. You know your music. You should be able to
work at Championship Vinyl with Rob, Dick and
Barry


Do You Know Your Music (Sorry MTV Generation I Doubt You Can Handle This One)
brought to you by Quizilla

Once, when I was working in a record store, my friend D and I(both of us were supervisors) were standing by the playstack making fun of customers when someone came up, asked us a question, which we expertly answered, and the customer said we reminded her of John Cusak and Jack Black from the Hi Fidelity.

My response was "so, I'm John Cusak and he's Jack Black, right?"
[note: this was back when I still had hair, so it was conceivable to think I looked a little like John Cusak]

A long, long time ago...

I was on a kick on this blog about prime numbers. It's happened more than once. I know. I was displaying my extraordinary geekness. I apologize.

Yesterday I picked up my packet for the MS Ride. My number, for those who want to know, is 487, which is a prime number. It's silly. I'll stop.

Got some good stories about other people's head injuries in response to this entry. Thanks for the those.

I'm still cloudy this morning, but mostly just headachy, which is, believe it or not, a good sign. This means I'll be bitching about something else soon. My DSL package was finally delivered yesterday as well, but because this company is so slow about updating phone lists, I have yet to be added on. Otherwise, I probably would have spent today at home playing around with my new DSL. So, tonight, I will be installing and playing around with it. This potentially means an increase in my blogging. Please don't all groan at once.

A Brief History of My Head Injuries

I figured, since I can't stop thinking about it, why not write them all out:

June 2004: The collision. See this post.

1997: The Accident.
I was in the back of a cab on a slightly rainy night. Cab hits car turning left. Dave hits plexiglass divider with his forehead. Hospital trip at 3 am follows, uncluding CAT scans. Results: Concussion.

1991: The Dance.
I was at a weekend retreat where they threw us a dance. It was quite lively. We were all dancing to "Blister in the Sun" by the Violent Femmes. During the quiet part, everyone started crouching down. I decided to dash through real quick and get a drink when the song gets real loud again, and someone shot up and cracked me on the side of the head. Everything goes flying and I wind up on the floor. Results: Concussion.

1983: The Trip.
I'm playing with friends outside when I take off running after one of them. Somehow I wind up horizontal, and hit my right knee on the cement stairs to their deck, and my head on their wooden stairs. After being helped back to my house, I realized blood was running down my head. Hospital trip and an uncomfortable interview for my parents ensues. Results: Three stitches and a concussion.

Not bad for a guy just starting his 30's. I haven't gotten into the really heavy hurting of myself yet. I'm sure that will come closer to 35 or so.

Fun!

Good Idea, Bad Idea

Good idea:

Taking it easy after having a minor head trauma.

Bad idea:

Going to work when you have a minor head trauma.

It's not horrible, but I'm not giving myself any chance to recover. This would also be the longest period of time I've been upright since I bonked myself into next Thursday. The combination is not fun. If I were still at Tower, I'd tell the clerks to not page for a sup unless absolutely necessary, and crawl to the break room table and just take a nap. Not the most comfortable thing to sleep on, but at least it was moderately acceptable behavior. My new-fangled real job doesn't have a picnic table in the break room. We got super nice chairs with small round tables.

Such is life.

In reality, the only reason I decided to come to work today was because my DSL equipment should be arriving. It hasn't yet, making me wonder whether or not UPS got around to rerouting my package here, instead of at home. I can see myself getting a touch pissed about it going to the wrong place. By a touch, of course, I mean extremely pissed off. I hate UPS, for reasons we already know, multiple times.

Vertigo and train-riding.

The skies are still cloudy, inside my head. But I have made it to work. Barely. One of the things I do not recommend to anyone is reading while riding the el with a concussion. It adds to the dizziness, which you really don't need any more of. It probably would have helped had I sat facing forwards, instead of sideways. I'll try to remember that for when I go home.

Vertigo kicked in as I descended the stairs to Wells St this morning. I got another taste of it as I crossed the river at Jackson... not good feelings. I was making jokes about it yesterday with my part-time caretaker, J. I kept saying lines from the movie. I should buy that. It's one of my favorites.

Anyways, I'm off to muddle through my day.

Lycos, being MIP, and a festive weekend.

Lycos mail pulled a fast one on me this morning. I logged in to find that I had 17 new messages, and thought that my fishing for donations worked, and that a lot of people contributed. Alas, no. They simply marked a bunch of messages as unmarked, at random, and I had to go through and re-load each message. My annoyance level was heightened significantly.

Yesterday's softball game was wonderful fun, but I was not named MVP this week. I was MIP, for most injured person. I was playing Short Center when a guy popped up to right field. Both the right fielder and I went for it, and we collided. I might be a little concussed, so I'm taking it really easy, along with a lot of headache remedies. You'll also never hear me call baseball players wusses when I see them collide anymore. It really hurts. I'm even bruised where my head hit whatever part of the right fielder I hit. She wasn't hurt- but I got rung up pretty damn good.

Yesterday was my cat's birthday. She is 7 now. She's moving quite gracefully into middle age, too. Today is Father's Day, which is cool. I will be placing that phone call a little later, because my dad is so cool. Mia(my cat) still needs a present, and I think I've earned one, too, after all, I am her daddy, so I should get something, right?

We'll see. I've got some bike riding to do. I've got some groceries to buy. I promised myself to buy some new work clothes, too. Maybe that should be my present.

Levity- this blog needs a good dose.

The devil went down to Georgia...

This article makes me want to do two things: vomit, and get cable. I'm sure you'll understand why.

Before you see The Terminal.

Please read up on the man who this really has happened to.

Anger, Apathy, and the 30-something male.

I'm a little pissy this morning, as it seems that Lycos has gone for a nice excursion up shit creek. It happens. Unfortunately, all too often. This time, I think, will be the last time. I'm going to take the plunge. I'm going to move everything to my gmail account, and just dump Lycos.

So, last night I was going to have a meeting with my MS Ride team. Sadly, only half of us were there. While we did get some talking done about the ride, we also spent some time talking about relationships. We are both 30-something single men. We're comfortable with that. We got to talking about one-nighters(I recanted a particularly sordid tale), and relationships. He's considering breaking off the one he's in, because "she's much more into it than I am." I've been thinking about this, quite a bit. I haven't had a serious relationship in about a year, mostly because I get bored so easily. I meet someone, think they're great, and lose interest between 45 minutes and 2 weeks. I have started to become apathetic towards relationships, because I can't seem to find someone I can enjoy for more than a week. We talked a bit about this and decided the question becomes am I just being too picky, or are there no quality women left in Chicago?

I'd like to think that there are still quality women out there. I know plenty, but they're friends, some of them so much so that I would never consider crossing that line. This is not a new struggle for me. Most all of my life, I have had closer female friends than male friends. Anyways. Those friends try to sent me up with their friends, and inevitably, I lose interest. Some of the more dynamic turn-offs I've heard recently:

"I miss Friends."
"What do you mean, megalomaniacal?"
"So, is this hockey?"
"What kind of car do you drive?"

Of course, as recently as last night, I've had some concersations that did a wonderful job of catching my interest. Some examples:

"I love [insert band name]- they sound like them?"
"You look very nice tonight." (It should be noted that I was actually somewhat dressed-up, considering I wasn't at work, in that I wore a shirt with buttons, instead of my usual t-shirt.)
"A day off suits you- you look so relaxed and at peace."
(commenting favorably on my work clothes) "I could get used to this."

Half of those sayings were from women who I consider to be too close of friends to go beyond.

I am what might be called a flirt. I love women. I love talking to them. I've kissed a lot of frogs, as the saying goes. Am I just getting impatient? Was it seeing an old friend in my alumni magazine getting married? Am I tired? Am I hungry? Is it a male biological clock? Is all that pressure from my family starting to crack at my previously strong facade? The question most on my mind is, where is my princess?

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to complain, I have no regrets. I spent my 20's living in 3 different cities, one of them twice, had 6 jobs(three for the same company, but I was transferred), lived in countless different apartments and travelled all over the US. I lived the life of a rover. Now, however, I think I might be done. It might be time to settle down- and that's a scary thought.

I have to say this.

Attacking Iraq because they have WMD: Mistaken.

Attacking Iraq because they have ties to Al-Qaeda: Unfounded.

Finishing the job your daddy didn't at the expense of the American People and without their approval: Despicable.

Interesting...

From the blog of All Things Jen(nifer), you can link to an inkblot test. It takes a while to complete, but it is rather entertaining. My results are the same as hers:

dave, your subconscious mind is driven most by Peace

You are driven by a higher purpose than most people. You have a deeply-rooted desire to facilitate peacefulness in the world. Whether through subtle interactions with love ones, or through getting involved in social causes, it is important to you to influence the world.

You are driven by a desire to encourage others to think about the positive side of things instead of focusing on the negative. The reason your unconscious is consumed by this might stem from an innate fear of war and turmoil. Thus, to avoid that uncomfortable place for you, your unconscious seeks out the peace in your environment.

Usually, the thing that underlies this unconscious drive is a deep respect for humankind. You care about the future of the world, even beyond your own involvement in it. As a result, your personal integrity acts as a surrogate for your deeper drive toward peace and guides you in daily life towards decisions that are respectful toward yourself and others.

Though your unconscious mind is driven most strongly by Peace, there is much more to who you are at your core.

Interesting. Sounds like I might be a Libra or something. Oh yeah. I am.

Improvements

Things are starting to fall into place for the MS Ride next weekend. I'm not saying it's perfectly set up, but we're definitely getting there.

At least, I feel like we're getting there. Slowly.

More tomorrow, I'm sure.

Songs stuck in my head...

Earlier today I had the horrible anthem "Lovin' Every Minute of It" playing over and over in my head. Much to my chagrin, I was unable to dislodge it from my consciousness using my cure-all "Private Dancer" by Tina Turner. In order to remove this song, I played some songs I have stored on my PC at work for just this emergency. I played this song, then an acoustic version of "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake, and it was gone.

Suddenly, after all that, I have You Spin Me Round stuck in my head- all due to this article.

I have a hard time believing anything our government says anymore. Not after attacking Iraq, who apparently didn't have WMD. Not after taking my shoes off at the airport for 2 1/2 years, only to be told that there already is a terrorist cell here. Not after 2 years of hunting for Osama without catching him.

I have always had a love-hate relationship with this country, and I believe that most people do. But there's got to be an answer. They say that voter apathy is high. Of course it is. We elected a president without electing him, who attacked a country without popular support. Why would we care anymore? Hello? Is this thing on?

There's a place for people like you.

If you haven't heard(I saw this on the news last night), there's this asshole in Texas who almost hurt a 4-year-old last night while diving for a foul ball at a Rangers game. After being swatted by the boy's mother, he refused to relinquish the ball to the child. Needless to say, he was taunted by the section, the announcers, and eventually, by the entire stadium. Thankfully, he left the game early. Thankfully, both the Cardinals and Rangers responded by bringing the child signed bats, balls, and other souvenirs. Even the Mets are sending the boy items.

I'll fully admit to not always paying attention to those with children at sporting events, in that I tend to swear a lot and be very loud. I am, however, aware of those around me, and wouldn't jump on a child to get something as stupid as a foul ball.

Of course, I've been known to spit beer at the opposing team's pitchers. I'll tell that story later.

For now, shame on you, asshole from Texas(his name is in the article, FYI).

Is anyone actually surprised?

You're a Pint of Guinness!


What Type of Alcoholic Beverage Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Not me. Not at all. You are what you drink, after all.

I'll be raising a pint later. I hope.

Busy, busy, busy(again).

I'm trying to coordinate my MS Ride team to get everything set for next weekend(wow, it's only 10 days until the ride). This involves planning on my part that hasn't happened yet, and should have. My bad. I hope they're not too mad at me for not having things written in pen, if not stone, earlier.

In other news, they crazy swearing guy was on my train again this morning. Today's rant was "get the fuck out of my way, or I'll push you next time." I often wonder if he's considered seeking help.

So, I'm here, at work, and we're short a guy today. This makes for an interesting day, but not a tough one. At least I hope it's not a tough one.

You might notice that in the next 10 days or so that I make a lot of references to the MS Ride. There are two reasons for this, firstly that it's coming up and I'm going to become really busy preparing for it, and secondly that I'm fishing for your donations. I know, I feel weird about it, but I'm become somewhat of a celebrity around the Illinois Chapter of the MS Society, and I'm trying to maintain that celebrity status, and increase funding for MS research and programs to help those with MS. At the very least, read up on my site, and understand why this is so important to me. If you can't donate, try to find out if there are volunteer opportunities in your area- every little bit does help.

Unprepared

I'm feeling horribly unprepared for my MS Ride, which is a very fast 11 days away.

I'm all worried, as a team captain, that I haven't gotten my team adequately prepared for this ride. As it stands, I still haven't confirmed how I'm getting out there, much less when.

So, there's a fair amount of worry. Hopefully, I'll clear it up in the next couple days. I don't like to feel out on a limb, and I most certainly do right now.

The blogs I read and why I read them, or: I'm too damn lazy to code a blogroll.

Ok, I promised this in the morning, and I'm going to just bite the bullet and do it(in no particular order):

*Still Untitled* I literally just started reading this. Like a minute ago. I like her style, honestly. She's funny and edgy.

Reagan's Youth Linked to me recently(I think), while still using Obscure Superstardom. I am quite amused to read this blog about music and the 80's. I'm a slave to my childhood, after all.

All things Jen(nifer) is a very well written blog which touches on a lot of personal things- it's true. Not to mention that the author likes Great Big Sea, one of my favorite bands.

Lucky Lucy commented on a post of mine some time ago, and I got to reading her blog. Unfortunately, she hasn't written lately, but I like what she writes.

The Video Store Guy cracks me up, especially as a former video store guy myself(worse off, I was the hated collections guy). He's sharp, opinionated, and damn funny.

Cowgirl Up left a comment a while ago, and I've been reading her ever since. She's funny and sincere. And her subtitle cracks me up every time I open her page.

The Redhead Wore Crimson is my long-time friend from Boston. Kurt Vonnegut said that every writer writes for an audience of one- and this is the person I write for. She's the reason I started blogging in the first place, and the reason I'm still going. She's the best- accept no substitutes.

The Adventures of Accordion Guy in the 21st Century is the Redhead's north-of-the-border boyfriend who was nominated for Blog of the Year 2004. His wit and charm are more than enough reason to read his work, not to mention his technical pointers on blogging.

On Being (un)Funny is the Redhead's co-worker and all around wonderful woman. She's strong, and not afraid to tell you exactly what's on her mind.

Those are the ones I frequent these days. I hope I did them each a service by displaying links here. One of these days, perhaps even this week, I'll work on finding code to add a blogroll of my own. For now, I hope you have time to check them out.

Proof positive that even I learn something new every day.

Yesterday, I went for another of my infamous bike rides. My latest route is to go up Damen Avenue from my house to Bryn Mawr, head over to Sheridan, go north to the lakefront bike path's start, then head all the way down to it's termination, at the South Shore Cultural Center. My boss lives around the corner, and when I told him about my rides there, he encouraged me to ride around inside the gates and check out the grounds. As I was riding up(you might notice this in the picture on the page I linked to), I realized that I had seen this building before, and it didn't take me long until I realized where I knew it from.

The interior for the Blues Brothers' concert was the Hollywood Palladium. Audience members were recruited through radio station promotion. The exterior was Chicago's South Shore Country Club, which was later purchased by the city and reopened as the South Shore Cultural Center.

As many of you who know me personally, it is a long-standing tradition that I watch the Blues Brothers every year on my birthday. I've been doing it since I was about 14 or so, and haven't missed a year yet. I just never realized that was the building they used. Then again, Chicago is a very big city, and I'm very, very infrequently on the south side, at least, rarely that far south.

Isn't it good to know that old dogs can learn new tricks?

Seems we're becoming mainstream.

Blogs are many things to many people. That's the focus of this article from Time Magazine.

You might be wondering what the hell this blog is about. Intially, it was an attempt to share the philosophical and emotional changes I went through as I approached my 30th birthday. I even kept a countdown running, and tried to be funny and tried to post things to help other people who were facing the end of their twenties. I'd like to think that I've helped at least one person get through that- me. Maybe that was the true purpose. We may never know, after all, I've been babbling about this for ages.

Later on today, after I make my usual rounds of the other blogs I read(I have my routine), I'll try to add a blogroll on here, something I've been meaning to do, but I'm extremely lazy. Maybe I'll just take the time to write about the ones I read, and give you a my reasons for reading them.

We'll just have to see, won't we?

Funny story

I spent about 40 minutes on the phone with my grandmother yesterday, just to say hi, and to take care of some unfinished business. She received a call from Cook County Jail some time ago, hung up on the caller, thought it might have been me, left me a message on my cell phone. Unfortunately the message was garbled, so I didn't hear the full gravity of the situation. When I finally got a hold of them a couple days later, I left a message. I got a letter with some pictures from them a couple days after that, and in the letter she told me about the call from CCJ. I immediately called and wound up leaving another message, explaining that rumors of my incarceration were greatly exaggerated, and not to worry.

Finally, I got a hold of her, yesterday morning. We laughed about the jail phone call. Then she told me a story about boiling some eggs. She started boiling some eggs to make whatever one needs boiled eggs for and walked down to the garage, where my grandfather was washing his aunt's old car. The decided to go for a drive, just to keep the car in good working order. Of course, she forgot about the eggs.

When they arrived home some 2 hours later, there was bits of egg on the ceiling, stuck to the bottom of the microwave, and all over her shelves of antiques. She said she was mad about it then, but can laugh about it now. I just had to share, because I was laughing uproariously about it with her.

I have yet another funny story, but I'm going to get permission from someone before I recant it. It's funny, and hard to keep in, though.

Maybe I won't enter...

A friend of mine forwarded some information to me about a kilt wearing contest at Chief O'Neill's this Friday, but after reading this article, I'm a little gunshy about participating. The contest itself isn't really about the kilt, it's about the legs. Apparently a panel of local female celebrities will be judging our legs. Now, while I know I've got pretty decent gams(frequent bike riding has its benefits), they will be looking specifically at the knees. Mine are pretty beat up. Between surgery scars and well, more scars, they're not the best looking. I dunno. This may be the last time I could enter such a contest, as I have the feeling that my next knee surgery will be a major one, as opposed to the nice orthoscopic ones I had last time around.

We shall see. If I do participate, you can count on pictures being posted.

MVP

Not trying to toot my own horn(actually, I am), but our softball team captain named me MVP for the week. Why?

Because I hit a home run. First of the year for our team.

And I'm a pretty kick ass fielder.

Photo updates!

As I was viewing the post I made earlier, I saw the ad I think the Redhead saw the other day, at least, it's a combination of the bowling ones I saw and the midlife crisis ones she saw.


It's just too funny.
Posted by Hello

And, as promised, the picture of the 2nd tattoo, the events leading up to were discussed here. Apologies for the out-of-focusness of it, it's the only digital picture of my arm I could find. I'll try again when I get some free time.


Don't bother enlarging this one, it only gets blurrier.
Posted by Hello

You know you're getting old when...

I've been combating knee pain from all my bike riding with a 2-pronged approach. Alleve, and ArthoFlex TDS. It's a kind of Aspercreme, just it was cheaper. What scares me about the whole thing is that I own the stuff.

It works relatively well, but usually the pain wins out in the end. I'm just glad it doesn't smell too bad. That would be tragic. And stinky.

So, yesterday's ride was a nice, even 45 miles. I did the whole thing in just under 3 hours, so I'm feeling pretty good about myself. Today, I'm going to do a little less than that, play softball, and then put some more miles on.

Seems the wise thing to do.

Productive morning.

Ok, not the most productive. But I did go to my favorite computer store and got myself some toys, namely a new optical mouse(a steal at $6.99), the Simpsons Hit and Run game, because, well, I don't know. And finally, upon my usual trip through the DVD section, the movie that started this blog, Logan's Run.

Upon returning home, I installed my new mouse and wasted time online. I'm good at this, after all.

Next up, burning a CD for a friend, a bike ride(now that the sun is finally shining).

More later, provided I'm not completely addicted to my new game.

There isn't anything wrong with the action in those keys.

Rest in peace Ray Charles.

Are the fates communicating with me through online adverts?

I was thinking about going bowling tonight, as I have tomorrow off, and well, I'm supposed to hang out with a friend who loves bowling more than I. So, the Redhead e-mailed me to check out the adverts on my blog. I just about peed myself.


Message from above?
Posted by Hello

If I were christian, I'd perceive this as a sign from god.

But I'm not, so I'll say that the goddess of bowling is telling me to hit the lanes.

UPDATED!

The Redhead sent a subsequent e-mail, informing me of the following, even funnier ads that were on:

Oh! They were different a few minutes ago, they were about "midlife
crisis at thirty."

What a great day to be alive. 30-year-olds having the big Midlife Crisis and Bowling.

I *heart* blogger.com!

Howard Jones was right.

He told me, way back in the day, that things can only get better.

And they are. First of all, let me bask in the Virtual Friday I'm enjoying.

Second, remember in Casablanca, there's a scene where the Nazis are singing their national anthem, then Victor Lazlo gets everyone else singing the French National Anthem?

I just about burst into a re-enactment when I read about this.

A little bit about myself and why my day started on the wrong foot.

I am from the upper midwest. I was born in Sterling, IL and grew up in Chicago, Kitchener, ONT, and St. Paul, MN, respectively. All these places have one thing in common: they're not that warm. Ergo, I am rather accustomed to cold. I wear shorts in the winger. I revel in temperatures between 52 and 72 degrees(that's 11 and 22 Centigrade). So this morning, as I'm sitting on the train, I sit, as I usually do, next to the window so I can rest my arm on the air conditioning vent(I like it cool). I sit there for the whole ride, just looking out the window and keeping my arm cool. It's raining, so I'm happy for the temperature drop and unhappy with being wet. But my arm is unusually cool today. Finally, I look down, and realize that the window has a leak, and my arm is resting on an air-conditioned puddle of water.

This story doesn't include the conversation the crazy guy was having with I don't know who. He just kept talking, I presumed to someone behind me, but I wasn't paying that close of attention to him. He could have been talking to me, honestly, but I never gave him my attention. I was happy when he got off the train before me, because he had a bike with him and was going to be impossible to navigate around.

Anyways- as I was walking in the rain to work(although I shouldn't bitch too much, it was down to a drizzle), a garbage barge went under the bridge at Jackson right as I was walking over. I am sensitive to smells. This was not a pleasant one.

To end my bitch-fest, we're having random logon problem day around here, which means I get a lot of calls that are thankfully easy to solve, but a pain in the ass to get the clients to conform to.

The bitch session ends.

Now.

Thanks for listening!

It's official.

I have Friday off. There was a chance to get some OT and the like, but ultimately, I just want to sleep in on Friday.

I'm happy- I'll get a day to ride my bike and probably do some shopping- time to summer up the work wardrobe. Of course, it's supposed to rain like hell, but we'll see what happens.

So, is it me, or something in the air?

I should have know this morning when I hit the snooze bar(a rare occurence for me) and then went back to having a bizarre dream about throwing bunches of marijuana plants over a leveed Mississippi River while sharpshooters did their best to stop us in the act. We were shooting back, it should be noted, and we were better shots.

Again- this is what happens when I don't control my dreams. Freud would have a field day.

Anyways, I left the house late, missed my train, kept smelling stinky farts in the air on the whole ride down(I assure you they weren't from me), got here late, was pissy about it, and thus far haven't had more than one pleasant phone call this morning, and that was with a friend who works here. Every customer has been bitchy, even combative, and, as usual, dumber than a cereal box.

I need a nap.

If only!

Read this article about how the Lightning actually lost game 7 on Monday. Then, just wish, like myself, the entire nation of Canada, and all other hockey fans north of the Mason-Dixon Line, that it were true.

Now, if they used this kind of tactic on the young Republicans, imagine what the Democratic party could accomplish!

The incredible story of the second tattoo.

As promised last Friday, I shall recant the story of the second tattoo, again using those beloved time travelling effects from last week:

[insert time-travelling effects here]

Way back when I was 22, my girlfriend and I decided to take a weekend off and go camping. We packed up her tent and sleeping bags in my car, loaded up a couple coolers with food, and headed north towards Duluth(I was living in St. Paul at the time). We left relatively late, probably about 6 or 7 o'clock on a Friday, and hit I-35 in a hurry. We drove all the way up to Duluth, stopping at three campgrounds on the way, all of which were full. We decided to cut our losses and just head into town and get a hotel for the night and try to camp again the next day. Little did we know, but our luck would be soured by a Harley-Davidson convention and a hot rod convention. We turned around, hoping to find a casino or a hotel somewhere on the way back that would accomodate us, which, as it turns out, didn't exist. There wasn't a single room available along I-35. I was amazed. So, we drove all the way back to St. Paul, got back to my apartment around 2 or so, and went to bed.

In the morning, we realized that we had all this food that needed to be eaten, so we decided to have a nice picnic along the shores of the St. Croix River in Stillwater. It was a lovely day, and we had so much fun we decided to walk around downtown to shop, or find a bar, or both. We didn't expect to find a tattoo shop, though. We walked in, we browsed, looked at their books, and realized they were really, really good. I took a card and we left, each secretly planning our own return sometime in the future.

We found a bar, and settled in to playing a few games of pool and pinball. We got to talking about it, and each had ideas about what we would get done if we were to get tattoos that day. Finally she said "it's a bummer we don't have cash enough on us to get work done.

Then, the all-fateful words came out of my mouth "it says on the card that they take plastic."

Fifteen minutes later, we were back in the tattoo parlor, ten minutes after that I was on my way to having my second tattoo. It's my favorite, for now, and I love it. I'd rather post a picture than describe it, so you'll just have to wait for the picture.

Won't you help to sing?

Upon my arrival home from work today, I discovered two things. One, that it was time to turn on the air. Electric bill be damned. Second, that my Johnny Cash Unearthed Box Set had arrived.

I've been known to buy CD's solely to obtain one song. It's not the most economical way to live, but I fully admit that I'll do it. I'll usually find something else I like on it, and in this case, I was going to buy this anyway. I was simply waiting for a time when I had the money to do so comfortably. When I was CD shopping last week, I took another hard look at this, and for the first time noticed something that made it worth spending any amount on. Disc 3, Track 3 is Redemption Song. Johnny is performing with none other than Joe Strummer.

Two of my favorite musicians performing my favorite reggae song. Both of which died in the last 18 months, I teared up, and I felt every word.

Every word.

The unofficial official good news

I'm jinxing myself by blogging about this, but it sounds like I'll have Friday off, as the markets are closing in honor of Reagan's funeral. It's not like I'll be attending or anything, not even planning on watching it on tv, but I would love a day to get some shopping done, get a good, long bike ride in, and maybe even go out Thursday night(that's right kids, he's been on the prowl!).

What would I rather do? Well, I'd rather go canoeing, but I need a partner for that. And a car. Other than these facts, it's a good idea, though, yes?

Watch this drive.

I'm not the hugest fan of Michael Moore. I'll admit that right now. I will, however, be seeing his latest movie as soon as I can(probably the day after the MS Ride). I highly recommend watching the trailer here. The best part comes at the very end, as GW is asking for support to stop the terrorists. Wait for it. It's so worth it.

Not nearly as funny, I suppose, as his nearly offensive stating the obvious from last week.

Makes you wonder what happens inside that head of his.

UPDATED! An old favorite

An old favorite.
Posted by Hello
It was just brought to my attention that I did not give credit where credit was due in this post. My bad!

Photo thanks to Jen Nelson, Graphic Designer Emeritus

My previous desktop picture, because I wanted to share it.
Posted by Hello

Atlantis

The song, by Donovan, is stuck in my head. It's been bouncing in and out of there for about 10 days now. I haven't figured out why. I have, however, downloaded it so I can listen to it at my leisure. The problem lies with the fact that it's also at home on my computer, not here at work, where I could listen to it again and hopefully chase it out of my head. Specifically, this part:

Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be,
Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be,
Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be.
Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be,
Way down below the ocean where I wanna be she may be.

Anyways.

In other news, the team I didn't want to win won last night. I was unhappy, but there's little I can do to change it, so I'm not going to worry about it. Unless, of course, I learn to skate with a remarkable proficiency, have my knees fixed, and make the Calgary Flames next season. Provided there is a next season.

This one couldn't run a hamster wheel.

It's my favorite way of expressing idiocy in people. Just slightly more favored than "they're not the sharpest stick in the sharp stick drawer."

Earlier today this happened:

Me: The last digit in your password is a zero, not an O.
Customer: you mean it's a number, not a letter?

Just a couple minutes ago:

Me: He's not in until 4 Chicago time.
customer: so, it's 1:30 California time and we're 2 hours behind, so he's in now?

How do these people function in the world?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Everybody's talking about it, so here's my two cents.

The passing of Ronald Reagan is an important thing to a lot of people. Myself, I'm not mourning a great president. I didn't agree with his economic policies(although I do have a place in my heart for his challenge to Gorbachev), I hated him for Iran-Contra, and I spent my pre-teen years in a nihilistic fear that the world was going to end any minute in a nuclear war.

For me, and my little neck of the world, it's a strange feeling. It's a local boy does good story which makes my family and their neighbors very proud. I was born in Sterling, IL, some 15 miles from his hometown of Tampico. I've had lunch at Dutch's Diner, named after him. I went to his boyhood home in Dixon with my brother and grandmother.

I might not have liked his politics, but I have to admit being proud of him.

Enough of my two cents.

Leftovers from Friday

I was going to blog about this on Friday, but I had places to go and people to see(i.e. class), and there was no time left on the clock. So, here's something that made me angry, why? Because no one consulted me, and I couldn't agree less. There are so many missing and even more confusion as to how Phil Collins could be number one...

I'd go on, but there's too much. We'd be here for a couple days.

I will say this much before I leave it alone: How could they pass up "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die" and include a line from A Boy Named Sue?

Mind you, I love both songs, but let's face it, one is better than the other.

Enough on that.

On being bald.

As promised earlier, I am now going to recant the story of how I started shaving my head. It should be stated that while I didn't have a whole head of hair, I was thinning up top, my main complaint was all the grey hairs that were very, very prevalent once I started wearing my hair short. Anyways, I know you were all on pins and needles waiting for this, so let's just jump right in and set the way-back machine to early July, 2002.

[insert time-travelling special effect here]

So, my roommate and I have just moved into our wonderful apartment, I've just finished finals, and I'm enjoying the first free time I've had in what feels like ages. I'm also suffering from the just-moved-in-to-a-new-place budget crunch that inevitably happens. My roommate, a friend, and I decide to go out bowling for the evening, because the bowling is cheap and the drinks are cheaper. The woman I am seeing is going to join us later on, once her babysitter has arrived. So, we bowl. And we drink. And I'm constantly complaining about how I haven't had time to get my hair cut for almost two months(at the time I had a hairstyle that required frequent trims, at least once every 5 or 6 weeks), and I couldn't stand how bad my hair looked. The woman I was seeing said "well, I could cut it for you."

Of all the dumb, drunken things I've done, this isn't one I regret very much, although at the time, I wasn't terribly happy. We got home probably about 12:30 or so, and I ran into the bathroom. I grabbed my beard and mustache trimmer, handed it to her, and said, "let's go." It was at this point she learned that it wasn't advisable to cut hair drunk, especially since she wasn't a professional. Things seemed to be going fine, but every little mistake made my hair shorter and shorter. Eventually, I was left with my entire head full of hair down to a 2-blade. M was apologizing profusely, thinking that she had done something so dreadful that I didn't want to see her anymore. I was happy about it, not thrilled, but I knew that it would grow back in time. We went to bed(I'll be skipping those details, if you don't mind), and she had to leave early, so when I woke up the next morning, I was nude and suddenly without much hair. I looked in the mirror the first time and thought that I looked pretty good, so I kept it. It took a couple weeks of getting used to, not to mention that I had to spend more time getting ready in the morning, but I have no complaints.

Now, of course, I have the whole thing down to a science, and it takes me about 5 minutes(usually less) to shave my entire face and head. When people ask why, I tell them that I've found a way to beat mother nature: you can't be balding or greying if you shave it all off.

Maybe next week I'll tell the story of how my second tattoo came to be.

Great. Now my ego's completely inflated.

You can tell it's a slow day around here when I spend waaaaaaaay too much time posting things I find on the internet. My apologies. Later on, because of a response to this post, I will re-tell the story of how I started shaving my head.

For now, bow to me, because I am:

Mournful, angsty, dark, passionate. You are Louis,
you poor, tortured soul.


Which Anne Rice Vampire Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Shut your friggin' cake-hole.

There are few things that could make our "leader" seem any more idiotic, but this is one of the greatest examples of stating the obvious:

Bush then presented the pope with the medal, calling John Paul "a devoted servant of God."

No shit. I thought he only had a passing interest in god.

My source? CNN.com

Amazing.

It is only 4 months til my birthday...

As the Redhead stated yesterday, our birthdays are coming up.

Thinking of sending something Chicago-way? Here's an idea.

Me, I'm thinking I might spend my 31st birthday in Boston, celebrating the Redhead's 30th. That Saturday, my best friend turns 30 on the same day my roommate turns 33. There's a lot of October birthdays in my world(too many to mention). I like it like that. Sadly, I see very little excitement in turning 31. There's really nothing remarkable about being in your 30's. I feel like I'm just treading water until I turn 40. Maybe I should get on the whole start a family and settle down thing. Maybe not. I think I've got some party days left in me. I seem to remember saying something along these lines last weekend: "you know all those people who think you should be married and have kids by the time you're thirty? They had to be home at 7. Let's go to the karaoke bar."

Long live rock.

Sharif, he don't like it!

Of all the things to start my friday off with, an article about a suspected terrorist who was doing nothing but texting lyrics to his bandmate, and got the wrong number.

My thoughts:

When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

I miss Joe Strummer.

What're you two talking about?

Football, of course.

The Badgers are now doing Soccer.

I love the Weebl.

My one, true calling in life.

I've been searching, hoping, clawing, and putting myself through hell to come up with my life's goal. Seems the Onion has gone and done it for me. My horoscope for the week:

Libra: (Sept. 23—Oct. 23)
You don't know a lot about art, but you do know what you like. This situation will lead to a curatorship at the National Museum Of Things I Like.

Suggested donation will be something lewd, I can assure you.

Just warning you.

It's a jump to conclusions mat!

I've been trying to figure out how to connect the thoughts I had related to this article about the price of gasoline.

I'm not sure how much they cost on that side of the great pond, but it seems to me that a gallon of gas in Britain costs slightly less than a pack of cigarettes in Chicago.

Coincidence? I'll let you decide.

A little bit of music trivia.

Through one of my mySpace connections, I got a link that will look up what song was Number 1 on the US and UK charts for a specific day. It was sent to me as a chain, to find out what song was number one on my birthday, which was We're an American Band by Grand Funk Railroad in the US and Eye Level by the Simon Park Orchestra in the UK. It should be noted that this song is instrumental.

It's a fun thing to play with. I recommend adding yours to the comments section.

Enjoy!

Reliving younger days... again.

This weekend, I will be proctoring the CFA exam. It's not a bad gig. I get paid lots of money to do a job that I barely made minimum wage doing 15 years ago. That's kinda scary- one of the reasons I left corporate America the first time. I had the horrible realization that by the time I was 30, I would have spent half my life working for the same company.

I just couldn't have that.

But today, I am reading through the manual and remembering how strange and bizarre the test administration world is. I've received my assingment, but I don't know what the code means, so I'm clueless as to how I'm going to spend my Saturday.

On Tuesday, after class, I stopped by good ol' Tower to buy the latest Beta Band album. One of my former co-workers asked me if I missed the fun and excitement of the Saturday morning Ticket onsales. I have to admit that I do, it sure is fun to spend a hungover Saturday morning yelling at people who should understand simple things. Crowd control is my forte, and I miss it. Especially the yelling part.

Of course, one could argue that I get to do the same thing here, in a reduced manner. Well, somewhat reduced. Maybe, just maybe, I'll get to do the same thing on this Saturday. Maybe.

The Urban Cowboy?
Posted by Hello

Frustration

It could be the old man I had an argument over whether or not his Windows program had a desktop, btt I'm at my wit's end today. Which doesn't make what I'm trying to do here any easier.

As of right now, I'm trying to enhance my reader's experiences by adding a photo to my Blogger profile, so just in case we ever meet on the street you can shout out "I know you! You're Logan's Dave!" or something similar to make me feel self-conscious and silly. Trust me, it will be fun for both of us.

For now, I can't figure it out. I think my brain is a little out of tune. I think I need a nap. I think I need a bike ride. Anyways, here's my first attempt at posting a picture to my blog, which is one of my favorite pictures of me. Here goes nothing!

In the days of my youth...

Sorry for the Led Zeppelin reference. If it's any consolation, I have that song stuck in my head now, too.

Anyways, because of the miracle of comments, I'm learning about more and more readers, which in turn means I'm reading more and more blogs, and that leads to me finding things I like on those blogs and feeling like I should write about them. Case in point: this entry by a blogger on a blogroll of a reader of mine(thanks for reading and blog rolling me!) about learning to read.

My own story of my fledgling school career is funny. I learned how to read extrememly young. My dad was convinced I was going to be smart, and I like to think he was right. Anyways, when we moved back to the US from Kitchener, Ontario(I attended day care for a brief time, which is why I still sing O, Canada at hockey games), my parents tried to enter me into kindergarten, but they wouldn't take me, because a) my birthday is in October, b) I was only 4, going on 5, and c) they didn't think I was intellectually ready.

So, instead of being a member of the class of 1991, I was going to be in the class of 1992. Not that this was a problem. As an alternative, they placed me in a kind of "advanced day care" school where we weren't graded or anything, but we were taught reading and science and all that. It was only half a day long, and my mother was at home anyways with my little brother, so it was really just to keep my mind growing. Basically it was a public-school type pre-school.

Now, I don't really recall this, but both my parents have separately told me about my teacher pulling them aside and asking them about my reading habits. She wasn't really concerned, but rather amazed that during reading time I would ask the teacher for the sports page of her newspaper. I read the hockey and football articles religously. Sometimes, if I finished early, I would even ask to read the main news section as well. I was also notorious for helping the teacher's aides sound out unfamiliar words when they read to us as a group.

So, what happened? That's my big question. I'm not much of a reader, just when I'm on the train to pass the time. I never learned to read terribly fast, but I am unusually adept at picking up new languages. I also never really enjoyed school, as a matter of fact, I started to hate it after a while. I seem to remember saying during my college "I think required courses are bullshit." Not surprisingly, my test scores got me in, in addition to my feisty attitude.

Anyways, that's the story of my early academic career.

I've got everything but Georgia on my mind.

It's true. Sad, but still true.

We're not busy today, at least not as busy as yesterday's hellacious pace, but my mind is racing.

I'll figure something out and blog for real later.

I'ts just like falling in love all over again.

I apologize for the excessive silly bloggling I've been doing this afternoon, but I had to share one of my boyhood loves with everyone.

I promise to say something poignant later on.

In addition to the previous post...

Why, exactly, does the BBC care about some American Civil War Widow? Are they trying to prove to us how superior they are? A kind of "look what happened after we let go of the reigns?"

I would pose, as fodder to this argument, this article.

As Bart once said: "Who's cuter now?"

File this under huh?

I'm just curious as to whose grandson this woman married. Was it a grandson from her second husband's first marriage, or was it her biological grandson as well?

What the hell is going on down there?

I wanna rock!

Ooooh. You're SO BAD. and you son't want to take
shit from anyone. Unfortunately for you,
you're going to have to, because your image
isn't so much tough as it is hilarious.


What band from the 80s are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Again, I'm not positive on the scientific validity of this, but it was worth checking out. Honestly, as I was taking it, I kinda felt like I knew where I was going.

News you can use. Again and again.

I know I spend too much time finding little articles to share with my blog readers, and I like it.

Here's one that makes me wish I was still living in a city that truely loved hockey.

This one makes me wonder. Who was surprised he butchered it?

Anyways. It's all too silly, isn't it?

Busy, busy, busy.

Our web-site changed over the weekend, and now people can't find the Client Login button.

It's been a busy morning of telling people to scroll to the right.

It's going to be a busy week of telling people this.

I'm looking so forward to this.