tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16306212023-11-16T10:27:24.093-05:00Off-TopicBill Walsh of The Slot (www.theslot.com) rants about things other than language.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger393125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-30636635809777470252011-11-28T11:54:00.001-05:002011-11-28T11:57:24.557-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>I'M STILL ALIVE, </b>but if you're interested in my off-topic commentary, you're better off following <a href="http://www.twitter.com/thebillwalsh">my @TheBillWalsh account</a> on Twitter.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-13052127849225711242009-04-26T10:53:00.003-04:002009-04-26T10:55:59.894-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mzd0VX1_wZE9NgRIbSilA2J58wpISyi3krwRs8FLJjPJLlXRPlwV6j3l2eZqmTmfksz4KBlqsi5awNDnB4CRh6ZAxts9bmaU9YciJNWEtCeGDyQS_Z_A36zOu86YDC4ElQ/s1600-h/spring.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 104px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mzd0VX1_wZE9NgRIbSilA2J58wpISyi3krwRs8FLJjPJLlXRPlwV6j3l2eZqmTmfksz4KBlqsi5awNDnB4CRh6ZAxts9bmaU9YciJNWEtCeGDyQS_Z_A36zOu86YDC4ElQ/s400/spring.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329013959970041570" /></a><br /><B>MY WIFE AND I</b> always joke about how the D.C. area goes straight from winter to summer, shivering to smoldering, 40 to 90. I created this ultra-scientific graph to prove the point this year. As you can see, spring was ... Friday.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-56265954175271315452009-04-21T14:31:00.002-04:002009-04-21T14:33:11.020-04:00<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pUUPEZjRXvU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pUUPEZjRXvU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><p><br /><br /><b>HERE'S A PHILOSOPHY</b> I can get behind. "The first duty of everybody in life is to realize that they're a piece of shit."<br /><br />This should be required viewing for parents.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-53479844618073133822009-02-25T02:27:00.002-05:002009-02-25T02:29:58.647-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4sCeGFC9es4RABERO8nUJKBUq0MHmS6IcZYRPeBKvMOniVEk1J-pteYFVtPa_-q8Dv8ltRlJZmOa3Vf50oUEJDxJu-OJuDXI7TYPO33urXicn5DINS3K2xE6JBlTB5_diA/s1600-h/jeff.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4sCeGFC9es4RABERO8nUJKBUq0MHmS6IcZYRPeBKvMOniVEk1J-pteYFVtPa_-q8Dv8ltRlJZmOa3Vf50oUEJDxJu-OJuDXI7TYPO33urXicn5DINS3K2xE6JBlTB5_diA/s400/jeff.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306633863822011490" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">YOU WATCH</span> "<a href="http://www.aetv.com/intervention/index.jsp">Intervention</a>," right? You want a Jeff vanVonderen T-shirt, right? Well, <a href="http://www.cafepress.com/lovelikecrazy/">here's your chance</a>!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-5770585723548851352008-08-26T13:53:00.003-04:002008-08-28T02:48:56.825-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzyj61jrkqUfFJn9bHb6jBYfax-EneoWeU91RM3bw1kdaSY8aTHM1FR-TlyUbH9gYlFU5j7reV1I1gfpz1Yc-gNJ5HCJjNxqvNb1ocQLl92ICsp4mKO5dcPIrlhJ1DtwRMg/s1600-h/kraft1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzyj61jrkqUfFJn9bHb6jBYfax-EneoWeU91RM3bw1kdaSY8aTHM1FR-TlyUbH9gYlFU5j7reV1I1gfpz1Yc-gNJ5HCJjNxqvNb1ocQLl92ICsp4mKO5dcPIrlhJ1DtwRMg/s400/kraft1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239456926329085458" /></a><br /><b>WHITE TRASH CUISINE:</b> Kraft Dinner and tuna sauce.<br /><br />First and last in a series -- because I'm now a man of wealth and taste and all -- but this dish is so good I will never renounce it.<br /><br />It must have been a back-of-the-box recipe at some point, but I've never heard of it outside my family. My mom made it all the time when my brothers and I were growing up, and I'm continuing the tradition.<br /><br />Get the recipe <a href="http://www.theslot.com/kraft/">here</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-46995649904574084322008-07-30T22:14:00.006-04:002008-07-30T22:29:05.197-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHhotkF0BzihhseEquLUqzOEXkMnPJVTS-hA75WGIG8vrHWm9YiLgOQobWY3T1QpfNeRVwJTYXkObhw5XIWKlCcaPOC5slaLE4fKtl55tWzgN9zZkxwjxOzotM_fPmEZpaA/s1600-h/kunstler"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHhotkF0BzihhseEquLUqzOEXkMnPJVTS-hA75WGIG8vrHWm9YiLgOQobWY3T1QpfNeRVwJTYXkObhw5XIWKlCcaPOC5slaLE4fKtl55tWzgN9zZkxwjxOzotM_fPmEZpaA/s400/kunstler" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228997051042983234" /></a><br /><h2>Ask Jim Kunstler</h2><br /><i>Ask Jim Kunstler</i> is a periodic advice feature with James Howard Kunstler, the author of <a href="http://jameshowardkunstler.typepad.com/clusterfuck_nation/" target="_blank">Clusterfuck Nation</a> and "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Long-Emergency-Converging-Catastrophes-Twenty-First/dp/0871138883" target="_blank">The Long Emergency</a>."<br /><br /><b>Dear Mr. Kunstler,<br />I was recently laid off from my minimum-wage job as a greeter at Wal-Mart, and I cannot make the monthly payment on my 1993 Ford Mustang. Do you think things will take a turn for the better soon?<br />-- John, Peoria, Ill.</b><br /><br />Dear John,<br />Frankly, I don't want that version of America to survive -- the America of chain stores, and muscle cars, and grown men obsessed with video games, drugs, and pornography, and women decorated like cannibals, and the vast, crushing purposelessness of it all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-80784486554195634782008-07-24T12:12:00.000-04:002008-07-24T12:15:01.598-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8CfqS0u0MKqVqCdiz7UH-RGZ8syAQpreWFL_6n64YW7q62Kyj1Gipq7AJecbEaGOV4rb1npxxGyxVQnLmysP2jnEW6BAZrt_2BumEX60iAEY6jHh41gZ9mcEA8vyDSq5Ww/s1600-h/meter.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8CfqS0u0MKqVqCdiz7UH-RGZ8syAQpreWFL_6n64YW7q62Kyj1Gipq7AJecbEaGOV4rb1npxxGyxVQnLmysP2jnEW6BAZrt_2BumEX60iAEY6jHh41gZ9mcEA8vyDSq5Ww/s400/meter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226614422223543682" /></a><br /><b>REINVENTING THE PARKING METER!</b> In theory, this is a great idea. In the old days, as we all know, every car was the same size and every man, woman and child wore one of those Good Humor-truck-driver clinky-clinky change-maker thingies on his or her belt. Today, nobody can find two nickels to rub together but we all carry around dozens of credit cards. <br /><br />So, quite logically, we now have meters that take either cash or credit cards and print out dashboard receipts to allow free-form parking (a block might accommodate 20 Smart cars or three Hummers). So far, so good.<br /><br />Anyone tried to use one of them? I have, in Washington and Miami Beach and New Orleans and New York, and guess what: They never work. The interface is impossibly complicated, but even once you get past that ... they never work, at least not with plastic. No matter what credit card I slide in, no matter in what city, whatever meter I choose is UNABLE TO READ CARD. The last time this happened, at 72nd Street and Broadway in New York, I then tried to use quarters and <i>the coin slot was jammed</i>.<br /><br />This can't be happening only to me. Can it?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-4314716304418694982008-02-17T10:20:00.003-05:002008-02-17T10:24:11.745-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhslPR5MTXW5jnMdU9vnmhYtrIqyuA0OH32YCF5oDz3Z92yBGEMTLxpKz1VAT_KC6Dve2n65WvlS1kPved1__A8yK5EZyuSfo8fweritPVbj5dyzhFuRtVC-m1iyvL5JZ7vMw/s1600-h/revolutionaryroad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhslPR5MTXW5jnMdU9vnmhYtrIqyuA0OH32YCF5oDz3Z92yBGEMTLxpKz1VAT_KC6Dve2n65WvlS1kPved1__A8yK5EZyuSfo8fweritPVbj5dyzhFuRtVC-m1iyvL5JZ7vMw/s200/revolutionaryroad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167969864256764978" /></a><br /><br /><b>IF YOU STILL</b> haven't read "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/redirect.html?ie=UTF8&location=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2FRevolutionary-Road-Richard-Yates%2Fdp%2F0375708448&tag=theslotaspotforc&linkCode=ur2&camp=1789&creative=9325">Revolutionary Road</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=theslotaspotforc&l=ur2&o=1" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" />," hurry up, before they go and <a href="http://books.guardian.co.uk/departments/generalfiction/story/0,,2257484,00.html" target="_blank">ruin it</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-10939802762383778252007-11-09T17:32:00.000-05:002007-11-09T17:36:02.128-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZVfge0D1hW-mUGDb4lVAAWwoW1Vwkgu5tMWhsMyGlkhXX1xt_Jt95-JPPPSe9uhIjNUzdjifeMDIVTktMLhB0MX1bR_aAuvcYvEdlp3Jd9eiBct-3Sr9xJuicLOwecKUEA/s1600-h/heart.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZVfge0D1hW-mUGDb4lVAAWwoW1Vwkgu5tMWhsMyGlkhXX1xt_Jt95-JPPPSe9uhIjNUzdjifeMDIVTktMLhB0MX1bR_aAuvcYvEdlp3Jd9eiBct-3Sr9xJuicLOwecKUEA/s400/heart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130972339144435778" /></a><br /><strong>THE WEB IS WHERE THE HEART IS. </strong> <a href="http://www.azcentral.com">AZCentral.com</a>, the Arizona Republic's Web site, inadvertently illustrates the perils of dynamically generated text-link advertising in <a href="http://www.azcentral.com/travel/arizona/features/articles/1108azhotels1109.html" target="_blank">an article on historic hotels</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-17742238500673281192007-11-06T14:53:00.000-05:002007-11-06T15:02:10.704-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxL158m6VRd_wQuCz7mOShJuy-pdGoKIqkpoIVgAoLQHDEI2_-ND2dREZRGVeWl2PrOmI0EwKGFsJLaV_hHsYFTEdcN0O2PSotgzyi82JDhrcrXbTZ_j7e1lKs4aM02N1XZw/s1600-h/Nov2007+001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxL158m6VRd_wQuCz7mOShJuy-pdGoKIqkpoIVgAoLQHDEI2_-ND2dREZRGVeWl2PrOmI0EwKGFsJLaV_hHsYFTEdcN0O2PSotgzyi82JDhrcrXbTZ_j7e1lKs4aM02N1XZw/s400/Nov2007+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129818777825894914" /></a><br /><strong>'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS!</strong> Well, not really, but during the Redskins-Jets game Sunday I noticed this image and immediately thought, "Clement Moore! 'A Visit From St. Nicholas'!" I paused the DVR and grabbed my camera to capture it, and later I rewound to show it to Jacqueline. Just to make sure I'm not a moron, I did a Web search for Clement Moore's name and confirmed that I was right. Many references also included his <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clement_Clarke_Moore" target="_blank">middle name</a>, and as I walked back to the TV I thought, "It's a shame there's nobody on the team named ..." <br /><br />And there he was, on the right of the screen -- out of order, but still -- a player named Clarke. I was sure he was in the pics I took earlier, but my cropping was a little too good. So this would be an even better entry, but I'm a moron.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-65581505201732160672007-10-29T10:34:00.000-04:002007-10-29T10:51:00.493-04:00<b>DON'T WANT TO LOSE BIG? DON'T BE A BIG LOSER.</b> Once again I'm hearing the jockosphere bellyaching about "<a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/10/28/AR2007102801741.html" target="_blank">running up the score</a>." This time the issue was the New England Patriots' decision to go for a first down (and a touchdown) at first-and-goal late in their rout of the Washington Redskins. <br /><br />Apparently Redskins Coach Joe Gibbs was Not Happy. Patriots Coach Bill Belichick: "What do you want us to do, kick a field goal?" Exactly. I'm not privy to the he-man code by which every Bud-swilling La-Z-Boy jockey instinctively knows precisely at what point a winning team is supposed to stop trying to play the game to avoid hurting the other guys' feelings, but if actually trying to score points is an insult, I think piling up an automatic and meaningless three points would clearly be a bigger insult than trying for the more difficult six or seven while risking coming away with zero. <br /><br />As I've said before, plenty of little girls playing 12-and-under tennis lose 6-0, 6-0 with more dignity than the "Don't rub it in" losers of men's team sports. And I bet Houston wished it had "run up the score" against Notre Dame in the 1979 Cottom Bowl.<br /><br />No, Bill, they didn't want you to kick a field goal. They wanted your team to <em>punt </em>from their team's 4-yard line. Or maybe just forfeit, to let one of the other teams win for a change, you big undefeated bullies.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-71057870049376410792007-10-22T13:06:00.000-04:002007-10-22T13:09:54.856-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47Thv8eMgNml4MGs3rz22acKDEGXf6ohZEJCBARsJk4RYFMSnBwBUfHOI8Uex1DGxKJFfTOv23dKwCNKII-gd1mXwdmqSZF4YQiRFo35TNxrwuXYqRiAWdMp9uBdHDy7thA/s1600-h/kunstler.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47Thv8eMgNml4MGs3rz22acKDEGXf6ohZEJCBARsJk4RYFMSnBwBUfHOI8Uex1DGxKJFfTOv23dKwCNKII-gd1mXwdmqSZF4YQiRFo35TNxrwuXYqRiAWdMp9uBdHDy7thA/s400/kunstler.jpg" border="0" alt="Stewie as Kunstler" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124209076311996914" /></a><br /><b>FUN *AND* EDUCATIONAL:</b> For today's homework, read the sometimes wise, always cranky rants of <a href="http://jameshowardkunstler.typepad.com/clusterfuck_nation/2007/10/peak-universe.html" target="_blank">Jim Kunstler</a> in the voice of Stewie from "<a href="http://www.familyguy.com/" target="_blank">Family Guy</a>."Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-27532885336992138222007-10-11T13:45:00.000-04:002007-10-11T13:58:51.712-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXj-WabMi2_yJxQUOTIH_4CewBPMFFR7CT-9ISjwBjA4pyAqfcqGpiv8vZmhKQDtdvXPN6EYBMGI8bcD60qq6Q7ejsdy6PDQ4gja6awA44XA7TV23vYvtVfMlDLcMrePMOBQ/s1600-h/drunk.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXj-WabMi2_yJxQUOTIH_4CewBPMFFR7CT-9ISjwBjA4pyAqfcqGpiv8vZmhKQDtdvXPN6EYBMGI8bcD60qq6Q7ejsdy6PDQ4gja6awA44XA7TV23vYvtVfMlDLcMrePMOBQ/s400/drunk.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120137700718459298" /></a><br /><b>NOW, LOOK HERE,</b> Po-Siam, 3807 Mount Vernon Ave., Alexandria, Va. 22305:<br /><br /><i>You</i> write "DRUNKEN NOODLES" and <i>I'll</i> take care of the wiseacre translation.<br /><br />(And if lettuce is outlawed, only outlaws will have lettuce.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-32689587074393773612007-09-27T02:51:00.000-04:002007-09-27T02:53:33.417-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-nidN8y4V8KNJciRAMxxeq70pTROxA1LoPX6yga4wpdrwQHPACURjqMeO6poNDZXwGj1jgK1fz_yE15a9u5Ku60IZAytomlSrOda-TYeuZ_0LDdqJxIQRe4Eb64uAJq5CA/s1600-h/GallInTheFamily.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-nidN8y4V8KNJciRAMxxeq70pTROxA1LoPX6yga4wpdrwQHPACURjqMeO6poNDZXwGj1jgK1fz_yE15a9u5Ku60IZAytomlSrOda-TYeuZ_0LDdqJxIQRe4Eb64uAJq5CA/s400/GallInTheFamily.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114773144831834482" /></a><br /><b>I'M NOT SURE</b> how I would have grown up without Mad magazine. (Click on the cartoon to find out the answer to my previous question.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-9604613518967298532007-09-14T14:56:00.001-04:002007-09-14T14:56:36.567-04:00<b>IT ISN'T QUITE</b> a <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/05/23/AR2007052301290.html" target="_blank">Googlenope</a>, but darn close, so I thought I'd put the question out there: Can anyone, outside my family, identify the source of the delightful phrase "gay, black, Jewish-Italian commie rapist with a sinus condition"?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-61219816813729354122007-08-04T00:13:00.000-04:002007-08-04T02:17:16.933-04:00<b>COMPLIMENTARY DRIVER-EDUCATION LESSON:</b> If you're turning right, unless signs or markings direct otherwise, you do so from the right lane.<br /><br />This is easily understandable (if not always followed) advice if you're on a road with more than one traffic lane in the direction in which you're driving, but sometimes it's more subtle. Sometimes you are morally obligated to create a right lane where there is no right lane.<br /><br />Take a look, for example, at Figure 1. The red car is turning right from a road in which there is only one travel lane <i>but there is a lane devoted to parallel parking</i>. The parking stops well before the intersection, and therefore the driver of the red car, by ignoring this de facto right-turn lane, <i>is turning right from the left lane</i>. The green car is forced to wait for no reason.<br /><br />Figure 2 illustrates the proper positioning. It's the correct solution not because the law requires it, but rather <i>because the driver of the red car is not the only freaking person in the world</i>.<br /><br />Thanks for listening.<br /><br /><em>Figure 1: Inconsiderate Dumb-Ass Driver Waiting to Make a Right Turn</em><br /><img src="http://www.theslot.com/wrong.jpg"><br /><br /><em>Figure 2: Upstanding Citizen Waiting to Make a Right Turn</em><br /><img src="http://www.theslot.com/right.jpg">Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-90961103948039265322007-08-03T17:30:00.001-04:002007-08-03T17:30:48.925-04:00IT'S OFFICIAL: I'm an <a href="http://www.piepalace.ca/blog/asperger-test-aq-test/" target="_blank">Assburger</a>. (I scored 33.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-1156077845828922172007-07-07T12:52:00.000-04:002007-07-07T13:01:47.107-04:00<br><img src="http://www.theslot.com/gifs/BWsimpsons2.jpg" border=1><br><br /><b>THE WEB SITE</b> for the "Simpsons" movie has a pretty good <a href="http://www.simpsonsmovie.com" target="_blank">avatar creator</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-52779413313192777572007-06-29T02:12:00.000-04:002007-06-29T02:13:06.889-04:00<strong>I'VE NEVER ASKED </strong>my niece or my nephew to write a pop song. But if I did, I imagine it would go something like this:<br /><br />"OK, let's write a song."<br /><br />"No!"<br /><br />"Oh, come on. It'll be fun!"<br /><br />"Um, all right, Uncle Bill."<br /><br />"Now, what's the first line? What do you want the song to be about?"<br /><br />"I dunno."<br /><br />"Just think of something -- anything."<br /><br />"Um, everybody gonna dance tonight."<br /><br />"Good! Now we need another line."<br /><br />"Um, everybody gonna feel all right."<br /><br />"Keep going!"<br /><br />"Everybody gonna dance around tonight."<br /><br />"Good!"<br /><br />"Everybody gonna jump and shout. Everybody's gonna sing it out. Everybody's gonna dance around tonight." Who knew Elizabeth and A.J. were as talented as one of the greatest songwriters who has ever lived?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tD2mS4GAVBc" target="_blank"><img src = "http://www.theslot.com/gifs/paul1.jpg" border = 0> <img src = "http://www.theslot.com/gifs/paul2.jpg" border = 0> <img src = "http://www.theslot.com/gifs/paul3.jpg" border = 0></a><br /><br />If writing about music is like dancing about architecture, what's singing about dancing? OK, OK, it's sort of the essence of rock 'n' roll, but perhaps Sir Paul could do it with more skill than a 3- or 4- or 5-year-old when he's 64? And a song about dancing is one thing, but <i>dancing around</i>? Dancing around is what you do when you have to go pee real bad. Now, that's something my nephew and niece would know about.<br /><br />Back when I wasn't old, John Doe and Exene Cervenka weighed in on appropriate subjects for songwriters:<br /><br /><i>It's about time, it's about space<br />It's about some people in a strange place<br />Woody Guthrie sang about B-E-E-T-S, not B-E-A-T-S<br />I must not think bad thoughts</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-37112071550362333972007-05-28T18:29:00.000-04:002007-05-28T18:30:18.278-04:00<b>THERE WERE CLUES.</b> <i>Dog</i>fighting? I don't know much about <a href="http://www.freep.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070528/SPORTS11/705280350/1048/SPORTS" target="_blank">Michael Vick</a>, but people who pay attention to football could have seen this coming if they'd paid a little <i>more</i> attention.<br /><br />*<br /><br />"Whether he was playing or not, we came out and played hard. He didn't really do anything when he was in there. We wanted to let them know they were going to be in a <b>dogfight</b> from the start."<br /><i>-- Virginia Tech defensive end Jamaal Green on the Hokies' largely Vick-less 2000 loss to Miami (Richmond Times Dispatch, Nov. 5, 2000).<br /><br /></i>*<br /><br />"We know it is going to be a <b>dogfight</b> and a hostile environment and the thing we have to do is go out and concentrate and focus and execute."<br /><i>-- Michael Vick, before a 2003 game at Green Bay (San Diego Union Tribune, Jan. 2, 2003).<br /><br /></i>*<br /><br />"Michael Vick and Donovan McNabb are very similar quarterbacks, so it really should be a <b>dogfight</b>."<br /><i>-- Carol Costello, CNN, Jan. 10, 2003.<br /><br /></i>*<br /><br />"Coming into this game, we knew it would be a <b>dogfight</b> and we knew stopping [Vick] would be a real challenge."<br /><i>-- Philadelphia Eagles linebacker Levon Kirkland after a 2003 game against Atlanta (Wilmington News Journal, Jan. 12, 2003).<br /><br /></i>*<br /><br /><b>DOGFIGHT</b>: NFC SOUTH COULD BE TOUGHEST DIVISION<br /><i>-- Winston-Salem Journal, Sept. 4, 2003, in a preview focusing on an injured Vick.<br /><br /></i>*<br /><br />"Well, we're in a fight, we're in a <b>dogfight</b>."<br /><i>-- Jim Mora, coach of Vick's Falcons, on the remainder of the 2005 season (Associated Press, Dec. 13, 2005).<br /><br /></i>*<br /><br />"Both NFC South teams are on the skids: The Saints have dropped two in a row, and the Falcons have lost three consecutive games. The division is a <b>dogfight</b> between three teams."<br /><i>-- The San Francisco Chronicle, Nov. 24, 2006, previewing a Falcons-Saints game.</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-52514653026735095932007-05-16T22:30:00.000-04:002007-06-13T18:53:32.648-04:00<b>ALBERTA, LA BELLE PROVINCE . . .</b> <br /><br />So, I'm booking trains and hotels for a glorious summer jaunt to Montreal and Quebec City <br />-- a vacation that will re-create my Frenglish pod's 1976 outing (yes, "Frenglish pod." Don't ask.). <br /><br />Our lodging choice for Quebec City, based on something in between a glance at and a study of <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotels-g155033-Quebec_City_Quebec-Hotels.html" target="_blank">TripAdvisor.com</a>, is the Hotel Champlain in Vieux Quebec (the old city). TripAdvisor offers a price-comparison feature that calls up Expedia, Orbitz, Travelocity and such, and based on that I started booking the room through <a href="http://hotels.travelocity.com/hotel/HotelDateLessListDetail.do;jsessionid=428043ED5AB835F899644F1EFCDFFCFB.p0230?marketId=162&propertyId=69111&airport=YQB&city=Quebec" target="_blank">Travelocity</a>. <br /><br />I was about to hit the final confirmation button when a little detail in the hotel's address stopped me:<br /><blockquote>Hotel Champlain<br />115 rue Ste-Anne<br />Vieux Quebec, AB G1R3X6</blockquote>Now, I've studied Canadian postal abbreviations a fair amount (don't get me started on the demise of the lovely PQ), and I know that AB is the prairie province of Alberta. Nevada's geometry writ large. No place for a Frenglish pod. Based on the other context clues, not the least of which is <i>Rue Ste-Anne</i>, I was 99 percent sure that the hotel is in PQ (pardonnez-moi -- <i>QC</i>), and that indeed there is no burg of Vieux Quebec in Alberta, but then again Michigan has its Frankenmuth and California has its Solvang and I wanted that extra percentage point, so I wrote to Travelocity.<br /><br /><blockquote>I'm 99 percent sure this is just an error on your site, but I made a reservation at the Hotel Champlain in Quebec City, but then at some point it starts being identified as being in Vieux Quebec, AB, which would mean the very different province of Alberta. It *is* QC, right?</blockquote>Later in the afternoon, the reply came:<br /><blockquote>Thank you for writing to Travelocity.<br /><br />We reviewed your reservation with the trip id xxxxxxxx and see that the hotel reservation you have booked is located in Vieux Quebec, AB . and not QC.<br /><br />To modify or cancel the reservation, we request you to contact our customer service center at the toll free number 888-872-8356 and one of our agent will certainly help you with the same.<br /><br />Your cooperation and patience are appreciated.</blockquote>By "reviewed," I assume they mean "glanced at," and so I called that toll-free number and got a very nice young man who essentially repeated that sort of boilerplate several times until I finally convinced him he didn't understand the issue I was raising. He then put me on hold so long that I was eventually cut off. (Travelocity's hold recording, by the way, isn't Muzak or "Your business is important to us," but rather a longish series of conversations in which an annoying male voice and an annoying female voice take turns playing the doofus role in solving various travel-booking conundrums. I was assured several times that there's normally no need to cancel a car-rental reservation if it turns out you don't want the car.)<br /><br />While on hold, I also wrote back:<br /><blockquote>There's just no way this hotel is in Alberta. Despite the AB, your site also says:<br /><br />>In the center of old Quebec with views of Chateau Frontenac, Hotel<br />>Champlain is approximately half a mile from St. Paul Street and the <br />>old port and 10 miles Quebec Airport. Rue du Tresor, Chateau Frontenac/<br />>Terrace Dufferin, and the Notre Dame Cathedral are roughly 200 meters <br />>from the hotel. The parliament buildings are half a mile away and the <br />>cruise terminal is a mile away.<br /><br />Le Chateau Frontenac is a prominent landmark in Quebec City, which is in Quebec, not Alberta. Everything else about this hotel, including countless other Web sites, points to QC. I believe this is simply an error on the site.</blockquote>The man on the phone did give me a phone number for the hotel, so I called it. "Bonjour, Hotel Champlain?" Ah, oui. Madame found my story tres amusant.<br /><br />And then another reply from Travelocity:<br /><blockquote>Thank you for writing to Travelocity.<br /><br />Please note per the details the address saved is as stated below.<br /><br />Hotel Champlain<br />115 rue Ste-Anne<br />Vieux Quebec, AB G1R3X6<br /><br />Bill, if this is the hotel you are looking for we request you to write back to call our 24 hour customer care number and our agent will guide you further.<br /><br />Le Champlain Hotel<br />115 Rue Sainte-Anne, Quebec City, Quebec G1R 3X6, Canada<br /><br />We appreciate the apportunity to serve your travel needs.</blockquote>I have no idea what all that means, but I'm pretty sure I have a good reporting candidate for the <a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/huffpost/20070515/cm_huffpost/048494" target="_blank">Pasadena Star-News</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-65132650281141258222007-04-12T14:08:00.001-04:002007-04-12T14:13:30.919-04:00<b>YOU MIGHT EXPECT</b> me to be in the "Lies, lies, lies!" camp in the whole <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Me-Talk-Pretty-One-Day/dp/0316776963" target="_blank">David</a> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dress-Your-Family-Corduroy-Denim/dp/0316010790/ref=ed_oe_p/102-0453147-2372959" target="_blank">Sedaris</a> <a href="http://www.tnr.com/user/nregi.mhtml?i=20070319&s=heard031907" target="_blank">imbroglio</a>, but I'm afraid I can't work up <a href="http://www.slate.com/id/2163957?nav=tap3" target="_blank">Jack Shafer</a>-size outrage.<br /><br />I've never considered the memoir to be a subcategory of nonfiction. I had no idea anybody really believed that all those things really happened to Sedaris, or <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Running-Scissors-Memoir-Augusten-Burroughs/dp/031242227X/ref=pd_sim_b_5/102-0453147-2372959" target="_blank">Augusten Burroughs</a>, exactly the way they told the stories. I loved "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Glass-Castle-Memoir-Jeannette-Walls/dp/074324754X/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-0453147-2372959?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176401146&sr=1-1" target="_blank">The Glass Castle</a>" and have no doubts about Jeannette Walls's integrity, but I assumed her fantastic life story was maybe 81 percent true. I agree that <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Million-Little-Pieces-James-Frey/dp/0307276902/ref=pd_bbs_2/102-0453147-2372959?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176401179&sr=1-2" target="_blank">James Frey</a> went <a href="http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0104061jamesfrey1.html" target="_blank">too far</a>, but I remain surprised at the extent of the public reaction.<br /><br />I wouldn't trust myself to give you an accurate quote from a conversation I had three hours ago, let alone three decades ago. And yet memoirs, autobiographies, biographies and history books are full of quotes. So it should be obvious that a memoir, and even an autobiography, is at least partially made up. Are the two genres identical in their balance between nonfiction and fiction, and different only in scope? Sometimes. There's memoir and then there's memoir. Arthur Ashe published three memoirs -- one a diary of a season on the tennis tour, one a look at his off-the-court life, and a third looking back from the perspective of his final years. I know he must have gotten some things wrong, but I trust there was no deliberate exaggeration. <br /><br />What Sedaris and Burroughs do falls into another side of the memoir category -- it's a genre without a name, but you know it when you see it. I've done <a href="http://www.theslot.com/vegas/abrahams/index.html" target="_blank">a little of it</a> myself. Exaggeration, hyperbole and even fabrication don't count as deception when you present them in such a way that nobody of sound mind would believe what they're hearing or reading in the first place. The difference between deception and the Sedaris genre is the difference between "Veteran actor John Goodman now weighs 2,000 pounds, The Washington Post has learned" and "Have you seen John Goodman lately? He must weigh a ton!"Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-16676018189325840922007-03-27T01:52:00.000-04:002007-03-27T01:54:23.762-04:00<p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrsBBeRVzgnHAkVmwygXgfkm8SazrEHuo719yoe8gyTdxmICMGMAmA_osG4cj1rGqqysZt_zuyCPwsunl7NVqIk0qTNf_7TTX-VHAhGb4d7SZ8l_woaJVs3MqJ-Tej0gCbw/s1600-h/voight.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrsBBeRVzgnHAkVmwygXgfkm8SazrEHuo719yoe8gyTdxmICMGMAmA_osG4cj1rGqqysZt_zuyCPwsunl7NVqIk0qTNf_7TTX-VHAhGb4d7SZ8l_woaJVs3MqJ-Tej0gCbw/s400/voight.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046478334222788610" /></a><br /><p><br /><b>WHO ARE THE PEOPLE IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD?</b> Well, I'm guessing maybe George Costanza. Why else would I be staring every day at <a href="http://www.seinfeldscripts.com/TheMomAndPopStore.html" target="_blank">a car once owned by Jon Voight</a>?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-66744396881182840212007-03-23T13:56:00.000-04:002007-03-23T13:58:22.020-04:00<strong>MORE FUN WITH MANAGED CARE. </strong>Two Saturdays ago Jacqueline and I flew home from a vacation to Phoenix and Las Vegas, a vacation that started with her being sick and ended with my being very sick (I came down with something the second we landed in Las Vegas, so there was a lot of me staying in bed while she lost money -- very "Lost in America").<br /><br />As the plane descended, my eustachian tubes did that thing they do when planes descend -- that thing that a lot of people have trouble with but which I can always clear up simply by starting to yawn. Well, I yawned, and my ears stayed blocked. And stayed blocked. And stayed blocked. I did some research and found that you're supposed to get help if the blockage persists for more than two hours, and so I called my doctor's office first thing Monday the 12th, and I got a same-day appointment. She gave me drugs for the head cold that she thought would fix the ears as well, and she told me to come back in a week if things were still stopped up.<br /><br />The cold symptoms went away this week, but the ears stayed blocked, and so I called for another appointment yesterday. My doctor was booked up, but the office squeezed me in with another doctor. He prescribed steroids (steroids that leave a yucky taste in my mouth but which I hope will help my tennis rise to Mariano Puerta-Guillermo Canas heights) and referred me to an otolaryngologist. I muttered the usual "What about my insurance?" question and he told me to check the coverage and call right back. Ask for him and he'll get a referral faxed over. (Ask for <i>him</i>? You can <i>do</i> that?)<br /><br />Well, the ENT doctor does indeed take my insurance, and I was able to get an appointment for next Thursday. I called my primary-care physician's office and asked for the doctor who told me to ask for him, but they said he was seeing patients. So I left a message.<br /><br />This morning I was awakened by a phone call from a woman asking how I wanted that referral delivered. I told her about the doctor's plan to fax the referral to the specialist, and she seemed puzzled. (Wasn't he supposed to take care of this?) "Do you have the specialist's fax nubmer?" Um, no, the faxing part wasn't my idea. I told her the doctor probably knew it, but she still seemed puzzled. All right, then, mail it to me. Whatever.<br /><br />This afternoon at 1:25 I was in the shower and heard the phone ring. When I got out, there was a very snotty message from the referral guy saying he had <i>no idea</i> why I wanted this referral and asking me to call him back. (If he didn't know the reason, how did he know I needed the referral?) I called back immediately and got a recording saying the office was closed until 1:30 for lunch.<br /><br />At 1:31 I got through and was told the referral coordinator had gone home for the day. But, but, but ...?<br /><br />The receptionist offered to help me, and so I tried to contain my exasperation as I explained the whole affair.<br /><br />"Do you have the specialist's fax number?"Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1630621.post-1164344235819614032006-11-23T23:52:00.000-05:002006-11-24T00:01:45.053-05:00<b>BOXING WAS MY LIFE</b> for what seems like forever, but what actually was more like the mid- to late '70s, mainly 1975 and 1976. For the most part this just meant I was a huge fan. At one point I was so huge a fan that I could pretty much type out a top-100 ranking for each of the 12 weight classes that existed at the time -- and did, during "free type" time in junior-high typing class.<br /><br />But it also went so far that I did some boxing myself. Or at least I -- and my brother Terence -- trained and sparred and hit the bag. I even climbed into the ring in an actual amateur competition, one that included future world champions. You can see how that turned out here (that's me in the green shirt, after a few seconds of my brothers goofing around):<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KgRlBhRd9T4"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KgRlBhRd9T4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center><br /><p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com