Hurrah!

Just got call from Jeff at auto shop. $245.00 for alternator replacement! Apparently was not heartbroken as originally feared.

Sorry for the incomplete sentences. Was just reading "Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason." Everything I write/say sounds Bridget Jonesey.

All Good Things...

I may have made a big mistake today... I'm sure I'll find out soon enough.

A little background, first. As any woman can tell you, it's hard to find a good auto mechanic. Most think that it's their right to treat women like they're idiots, overcharge women for minor repairs, double the price of any estimated work, and take their sweet ol' time in getting the job done. I had a pretty good mechanic when I lived in Kirksville. His name was "Bud," and I think he thought I was a lesbian. I always made a point of wearing flannel shirts, holey jeans, and no makeup when I brought my car in for service, then I acted like I knew what the hell I was talking about.

When I moved to Columbus, it took me over a year to find somebody good. I finally found him, running a shop (conveniently enough) very close to our new apartment. He's about my age, nice, not condescending at all, sticks to the price that he estimates for the service, and doesn't do "added work" (for an added price) unless you ask for it. I'm sure he probably gouges me on the price like any other mechanic, but at least he's nice about it.

Well, today I had to take my car in (I think it's the alternator. ugh.), and made the mistake of mentioning Cory. To be honest, I thought I'd mentioned that I had a boyfriend before, but maybe I hadn't. It doesn't always come up in concersation. Anyway, he seemed... crestfallen. I hope this doesn't mean higher prices. Maybe he was just being nice because he thought I was available.

crap. Maybe I'm just being a pessimist, and he's really a nice guy, and my dating status has no bearing on the prices he charges. Keep your fingers crossed.

I guess we'll find out soon enough. A new alternator should run, what, maybe $150 for the part, and (I'm guessing) 2 hours of labor? So if I get charged more than about $270, I may have to start looking for a new mechanic.

Tossin' and Turnin'

For the second time in my life, I was in an earthquake and missed it. This morning at about 5am, there was an earthquake in Northern Alabama, about 175 miles north of here. I was asleep, and didn't even know about it until I showed up at work and everyone was talking about how the earthquake woke them up and that their pets were freaking out. As far as I know, Zoe slept through the whole thing, too.

The other time I missed an earthquake was in January 1986, when I was a junior in high school. We were happily singing away in choir class, and nobody even noticed it. Our classroom was an addition to the school, built on a concrete slab (the rest of the school was a 2-story structure, kind of built into a hill). A lot of kids in other parts of the building felt it, though.

Apparently, I'm oblivious to seismic activity. Now, tornadoes, those I've been in. A particularly nasty one missed us by about 1/10 of a mile in Bowling Green, Kentucky. A skylight exploded at the mall where we ate lunch, and the sign in front of the Wendy's down the street from our hotel crashed through the roof (of the Wendy's, not the hotel). Very strange to watch CNN later that night and see all the destruction we'd driven past just an hour earlier.

My Hobby

As you probably all know by now, my parents are birdwatchers. Very dedicated ones, in fact: My mother has over 500 bird species on her life-list (my father stopped counting because Jan was getting too competitive with him). They carry field guides, binoculars, and bird lists with them wherever they go.

My hobby has always been more people-watching, honed after years spent in shopping malls, on college campuses, and at sporting events and white-trash tourist destinations like Cedar Point.

Turns out, I'm not alone... and I'm not a people-watcher... I'm a freak-watcher. And the best part is, the Freak Watchers Textbook appears to have originated in the Detroit Metro Area, so perhaps when I go back to Michigan for Crackhouse Nicki's wedding, I can check a few off my life-list.

Disco Lives!

Village People, eat your hearts out!

I feel so... Appreciated

It's "Team Member Appreciation Week" at work, because we're all such a great team and work so well together (see post from 4/27 if you don't believe me). The funny thing is, though, the only "team members" who are appreciated seem to be the 9-to-5 staffers. Monday through Friday, station management tries to do nice things for all the employees, like cooking a pancake breakfast or having a catered luncheon. Here's the thing: The people who work on the 6pm and 11pm newscasts (our bread and butter) don't come in to work until 2pm or so (we do work until Midnight, after all). So, if we want to be appreciated at the noon luncheon, we have to come in two hours early.

Today was breakfast day... pancakes and eggs for the 9-to-5 folks when they got in to work. Management sent around an email saying that there would be "something special" for the evening staff, too. Apparently, the "something special" was the leftover cookies and soda that the day crew hadn't eaten. The cookies and pop were there when Cory got in at 1pm... and its all that was there for the rest of the night.

We have catered lunches the rest of the week... which means I'll be going to bed earlier just so I can be up in time to "be appreciated." Oh, and if I want to "be appreciated" for five days this week, I have to come in on my days off. See, only Monday-Friday employees are "appreciated", so management doesn't do anything special for the 20 employees who work on the weekends. Nobody in management works on weekends, so it doesn't count, right? Never mind the fact that 1/3 of the news, production, and master control staff work on those days.

Gellin' Like A Felon

On the upside, today I re-discovered hair gel. My bangs looked really good.

A Different World

I generally try to delude myself into thinking that working in television is just like working any other job. It's got the same BS that everyone has to deal with... too much paperwork, not enough money, messy officemates.

But there actually are a lot of differences. There's a lot more manual labor, and when you work in TV, and have a bad day at work, thousands of people know about it. But probably the biggest difference is in the type of people you work with. They're altogether a different breed.

Take for example, today. I screwed something up, admittedly. I was late updating a script for our 6pm show, and it didn't get updated in the teleprompter. But tell me, is there any other profession that your co-worker would literally scream about it in your face for five minutes after you mess up? (((CENSORED))) Now, I know that I may not be the easiest person in the world to get along with, but I also understand that yelling at co-workers is freakishly inappropriate. Is there any other profession on the face of the earth where this would be acceptable behavior?

Rome Is Burning

Sportscasters have a reputation for being loud and abrasive. As hard as it may be to believe, I'm one of the few who doesn't have that reputation (at least not on-air)! Jim Rome is probably the best example of an obnoxious sportswriter/sportscaster. He's by far my least favorite personality in this business. Well, I just found out he's left his job on the decidedly inferior Fox Sports Network for a new show on ESPN.

Actually, I did enjoy watching the Jim Rome Show once. It was the episode when Jim Everett (former LA Rams QB)punched him on the air. Some folks say it was staged. I don't care if it was... I just really enjoyed watching somebody smack him around a little.

Summer School

This afternoon, Comedy Central was airing the Kirstie Alley/Mark Harmon movie "Summer School." It's a pretty lame movie, about a high school gym teacher who's forced to teach remedial English to a bunch of rejects in summer school.

Anyway, it reminded me of my boyfriend from my senior year of high school, Dave. I went to prom with him, and we dated most of the summer after I graduated. Our last date was going to see "Summer School" at the now-defunct Winchester Mall. I had just gotten through with my two-day freshman orientation at Oakland University, and I was really cranky after the whole experience. We went to the movie, Dave really liked it, I thought it sucked, and I was really annoyed by the fact that he thought it was funny.

Neither of us really "broke up" with the other person... I just didn't call him the next day, and we never talked again. Not the most mature way to handle things, but I was 17 and he was 16... so what do you expect??

Those Damn Ducks

Blech. Stupid Stupid Mighty *ucks won just about 2:00 into the 5th OT.

sigh.

At least now I can go to bed.

Update

OT #4 just ended. It's now the 4th longest game in NHL history. It's like an obsession now. I can't stop watching.

Over and Over and Overtime

It's 1:05 am, and the Dallas Stars and the Anaheim Mighty *ucks are in the 4th overtime of the first game of their playoff series. In layman's terms, that means they've played about 2 1/3 hockey games tonight.

A little while ago, they said it's the 7th longest game in NHL history. They may have advanced past #7 by now. I remember a few years ago, the Flyers and the Penguins played a 5-overtime game in the first round of the playoffs. A bunch of us were watching it at Too Tall's in Kirksville, and we were pissed that they closed the bar before the game was over.

Tonight, both teams have had an overtime goal called back... those poor fans in Dallas keep hoping they get to go home, then they've gone back to their seats for more.

By the way, the Mighty *ucks took the Wings to triple-overtime in game one of their first-round series. We all know how that turned out. Go Dallas!!!

Crack-ing Up

Please, please, somebody with an insight into the world of fashion, help me out here: Why would anyone ever introduce the concept of "low-rider" jeans? Was the world facing a desperate ass-crack shortage that could only be resolved by crack-revealing pants? Who is the ad wizard who came up with that one??? Was Calvin Klein lounging around his penthouse one day, dreaming up the next great fad in the world of denim fashion, only to glance over and see his refrigerator repairman bent over, revealing several centimeters of butt-cleavage?

Picture Day

I know I've explained the whole fiasco before, but my first publicity shot at work was heinous. I'd worked something like 17 days in a row, had to come in at 9am one morning after working late (1:30am) the night before, and that's when they decide to take my picture. The lighting was so bad that it looked like I had a black eye, and Cory had to "airbrush" it out in Adobe Photoshop.
The Old Picture: The New Picture:

Now, I recognize that the new picture isn't great-- For one thing, my hair is so high on one side, I look like I have a brain tumor... and for another thing, I'm orange for some strange reason. But at least I don't have a black eye this time! Now, all I have to do is get rid of about 500 autographed copies of the old picture, and they'll make copies of the new one for me. First stop, Auburn's CityFest on Saturday.

On to "Plan C"

After the Red Wings got swept by Anaheim last week, I had to switch to "Plan B." See, I love hockey, and I hate to kiss the entire playoffs goodbye when my team gets eliminated. So, when fate deals Detroit a bad hand, I switch to my backup.
I think lots of sports fans have "backup" teams, even though most won't admit it. For several years now, my "Plan B" has been the St. Louis Blues. Cory and Rich are both big Blues fans, and I spent three years covering the Blues when I worked in Missouri, so it was a natural for me.

Well, the St. Loser Blows cocked it up again this season. What's a girl to do? Three more rounds of Stanley Cup Playoffs... and no team to follow. The Atlanta Thrashers would be the natural "Plan C," but they didn't even make the playoffs, so we won't go there.

Then, angels shone down upon the hockey world... and the upstart Minnesota Wild beat the truly evil Colorado Avalanche in overtime. I think I've found my backup to my backup.
There are lots of reasons to like the Wild, I suppose. Like the fact that Minneapolis/St. Paul truly deserves a hockey team, and ever since the (North)Stars moved to Dallas, they've been screwed. Or the fact that they're an expansion team, and therefore aren't ever expected to beat anybody... ever. And, perhaps most important, they beat Colorado. (Are you noticing a trend here? Colorado Avalanche=evil)

Anyhoo... Go Minnesota! Let's Go Wild!!! (Until they lose... then I'll find a new flavor of the month. Or maybe I'll just start watching more baseball.)

Go Down Gambling

Has anyone else had a chance to check out this show? Seriously good stuff. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I love Vegas, and John Corbett is pretty easy on the eyes.

On the other hand, The Anna Nicole Show has been seriously disappointing me this season. For some ridiculous reason, the producers have decided to script half the show, with Anna Nicole narrating much of the action. Big Mistake. She sounds like she's reading a script... which, of course she is. Way to make a truly heinous spectacle of television even worse, E!

Senility Reigns

So, I had about a dozen things I planned to blog about tonight. Then I got home, and Cory was on the computer burning CDs. By the time I got a chance to hop on the computer, I'd completely forgotten everything I planned to write about. Isn't 33 a little young for senility to already start kicking in?

Reality Check

Ever see a picture of yourself, and are surprised by what you see? I finally saw my new publicity shot from work... and I realized how desperately I need a haircut! I've been trying to grow my hair out, in order to compete with the sports hoochies of the world... but it's just not gonna work. I don't think it looks bad, it just looks really unprofessional. Time to get it all chopped off again. My heart is breaking.

I'll try to post the new picture sometime soon. It's about a million jillion times better than the old one... but it's still not a very good photo.

More Antmusic

The Adam Ant CDs (See post below) brought back a flood of strange memories from my junior high school years. My friend Anne and I thought he was the sexiest thing to ever walk the great green earth. One night, we sent him the most bizarre fan letter ever written. I honestly can't tell you what the hell it said, but it was filled with 13-year-old girl giddiness and stupidity. It must have been about twelve pages long, and I'm pretty sure that if he ever had the misfortune to read it he would probably have filed some sort of restraining order against both of us.

Ferris Sportslady's Day Off

No, I didn't call in sick... I actually took a day off (I have something like 20 comp days I need to take this year) on Saturday. Problem was, Cory and I couldn't think of a single damn thing to do. We ended up driving to Auburn, Alabama for the day. It's a college town, though in a lot of ways, it doesn't have as much of a college-town-atmosphere as someplace like Ann Arbor, Mich. or Columbia, Mo. Weekends during football season are, of course, the exception. Tailgating on campus starts three days before the game, and if the Tigers win, they're still tailgating on Sunday night.

Highlights of the day:
1. Going to Toomer's Corner (An Auburn Landmark) and having the best lemonade I've ever had in my life. Seriously. They make the Lemonade right in front of you, and I don't know how they do it, but it seriously is amazing. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

2. Heading over to Plainsman Park and watching the baseball game from the lawn outside the center field wall. We didn't have to pay, didn't feel obligated to stay the whole game, and watched everyone around us get drunk (except for the one stupid guy who was drinking his Natural Light straight from the can. The cops made him dump out his entire case. That'll teach him for drinking cheap beer!

3. Going to a couple music stores and having a junior high school flashback. Cory spotted a copy of Billy Idol's Greatest Hits in a used CD bin at one store. Then, at another store, I spotted The Essential Adam Ant. Another trip to the used bin brought a copy of B-Side Babies for just $0.99. I made Cory listen to Adam Ant the entire ride back.

Bolster your 401K

Apparently, I've been going about my retirement fund all wrong. The real money, apparently, is in time-travel.

Who knew?

Hey Northerners...

Sure, I have to deal with rampant racism, gargantuan cockroaches, and SEC football... but living in the South does have its advantages. I've had flowers in bloom on my patio for over a month and a half... and today, I noticed a couple of tomatoes already growing on my plants outside. Just a happy thought as you all wait for the snow to melt.

Don't worry. In a month, I'll be bitching about how frickin' hot it is here, then you can have your day in the sun, so to speak.

There's Still Hope

This week's issue of Sports Illustrated arrived today, and as per usual, I immediately flipped it open to Steve Rushin's column. He's one of my favorite columnists, second only to Mitch Albom.

Rushin writes a column called "Air and Space" which appears right after the letters to the editor section in every issue. This week's column is about how great Rebecca Lobo is. He's apparently Loco for Lobo... crazy about the wolf. At the end of the article, he mentions that he and Rebecca Lobo got married this weekend. A pro athlete and a sports reporter? Crazy.

Does this mean there's still hope for me and Grant Wistrom? hmmmmmmm...... (sorry, Cory)

Stayin' Alive

Last night, I done got meself sum kulture down here in Georgia! (Sorry, sometimes I get a little carried away.)

Anywhoo, for the first time since moving here, I got to go to a show at the Rivercenter. I have to say, it's a pretty classy joint. The theater was beautiful, though I never got to see the enormous pipe organ. Anyway, the station had some comp tickets to see the touring production of "Saturday Night Fever," so I went with Cory's boss while Cory toiled away at work.

The show was ok.... a lot of fun, though not much substance. The soundtrack songs went surprisingly well with the scenes from the musical- the characters sing all of the Bee Gees songs from the soundtrack. The problem is that they needed way too many expository scenes to set up the musical numbers. The way I see it, in a musical, the music should carry the plot, not just complement it. Of course, the dancing was fantastic. The famous John Travolta Dance scene (you know, the one where he's dancing solo, and the stage lights up with all sorts of patterns and colors) translated really well. They used a mirror, angled over the stage, so that the people down front had two views of him... both from the front and also from the top.

It got me to thinking, the last time I went to a Broadway-style show was, well, on Broadway, when I saw Titanic: The Musical (which, I always feel obligated to add, came out a few years before the movie). I saw it in 1998 (I think) It was the only show I had the chance to see on Broadway, though I fulfilled a decade-old dream by seeing "Forbidden Broadway," which is an off-broadway show that parodies all the shows on Broadway that season. Good stuff. If you're ever in the "Big Apple," and can't decide what show you want to see, go see that.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr...

bastards.
I had all sorts of things I wanted to write about tonight... but friggin' Jean-Sebastien Giguere sucked the life out of me yet again. Thursday's my day off... and I won't have hockey to distract me any more, so I'll blog more then.

Sigh. Now I'll have to appease Cory by following his team. As much as it pains me to say it: go blues. ugh.

This Website is Not Commercial-Free

This is the coolest commercial ever made (A close second would be Don Cherry' s "Bubba Beer" commercial I saw during Hockey Night In Canada Saturday).

Legal Advice, Please?

Can you get arrested for emotionally abusing a cat? Because if not, I may need to buy Zoe one of these:

Lucky for her, I can't read Japanese. Otherwise, I'd be sending my cash overseas in a flash.

How Excited Am I...

About this movie???

(By the way, the answer is "very excited")

Hockeytown

I had to go in to work early today... The Cottonmouths were having a press conference to announce whether or not they'll be around again next year. See, the owners lost about half a million dollars last season, and were thinking of calling it quits. The good news? They're sticking it out one more year. The even better news? They're going to have to cut the frills. That's right, kids... the Cottonmouths Cheerleaders are about to get the ol' heave-ho.

Misery Loves Company

As a northerner living in the heart of Dixie... and as a transplanted Detroit Red Wings fan, I sometimes have trouble finding people who share my feelings. But I've found someone who I can commiserate with: Phil Roberto, the Cottonmouths General Manager. Phil won a Stanley Cup with the Montreal Canadiens back in the day. He also played with the St. Louis Blues , and yes, with my beloved Wings (During the Marcel Dionne/Mickey Redmond era). Last week, we were shooting the breeze about hockey, and he said that he thought Detroit could take the cup. Today, I saw him again, and we shared our distress (and awe) for the Goaltending of Jean-Sebastien Giguere, as much as I hate to admit it.

His last words to me today? "Go Wings, eh?"

Ahhh, Live Television

Sometimes I say stupid stuff on TV. Tonight I couldn't pronounce "Jose Maria Olazabal." Sometimes stranger things happen... though thankfully not to me.

Squeeze Play

There's a radio play-by-play guy in town named Scott Miller. Nice guy, very good at what he does. He could probably work in a much bigger city than C-Town, but for whatever reason, he's pretty attached to calling sports for C-Town State University. I also like him, because he usually gives me a shout-out on the air if he sees me at the game. But that's beside the point.

Scott has a very unique catch phrase. See if the team gives up a lot of runs or goes into a scoring slump, he tells the listeners that the spot they're sitting in isn't very lucky, and that they need to listen to the game from someplace else... their "lucky spot." Being a very superstitious sports fan, I totally buy into it.

Then, if the team starts to rally, he tells the fans not to move from their "lucky spot." But it gets great when it's a really close game... bottom of the ninth, runners in scoring position, etc. He tells everyone, "find that lucky spot and squeeze it! Squeeze it tight!"

My point? After the Red Wings lost today, I apparently need to figure out where the hell my lucky spot is and squeeze it until it turns blue. I'd advise you all to do the same.

The Hunchback of....... C-Town?

I'm in a wedding this summer, and while some bridesmaids worry about breaking a nail or gaining weight before the big dress-up-like-a-girl day... I'm worried that I'm going to be a hunchback by the time September rolls around.

The last two days, I've shot five baseball and softball games. That translates to about eight hours of standing/sitting/kneeling with a 20 lb. camera propped on my shoulder. My back is so incredibly sore right now. And lucky me, more baseball tomorrow.

I've actually had a callous on my right shoulder for about a year and a half now, from the very same reason. It's about 2 inches in diameter, and I have to loofah it nearly every time I shower. Not surprisingly, it gets worse when baseball season starts every year.

Notes From A Disgruntled Hockey Fan

Stupid Jean-Sebastien Giguere.

Stupid, stupid Paul Kariya.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Mighty Ducks.

Oh, and stupid Golden Gophers.

Thank God for the First Amendment

You've got to be kidding me. Am I supposed to believe that John Walker Lindh is holding covert meetings with Julia Roberts, Casey Kasem and the Freakin' Dixie Chicks in an attempt to overthrow the US government?

A Cheery Thought:

As if I wasn't already depressed enough. I just found out I'm going to die on Wednesday June 29, 2067, at age of 90. That's only 64 years from now! What to do, what to do...

A Reprieve:

Don't know how, but I screwed up my day-4-death. Apparently, I'm going to pass this mortal coil on Sunday September 5, 2060, at age of 90. I did it twice, just to be sure, and came up with the same date this time. The important thing is that I'll still be ninety... But I've only got 57 years to prepare now!

Rain, Rain, Go Away

It's a rare day off in Sportslady-land, and, to be honest, it sucks. It's cold and rainy outside for the third straight day. I really wanted to go to the baseball home opener tonight, but I don't want to sit around being cold and wet. I've lost all motivation to do anything. I just want to eat chocolate and then curl up under the covers and mope.

I know, all of you in Michigan and New York are saying "Yeah, cry me a river. We've got a f**king foot of snow." Ok, that's true. But for whatever reason, you choose to live in a cold, snowy part of the country. I live in the South, and the nice weather this time of year is really the only thing the South has going for it. I didn't move here for the flying cockroaches, you know?

Why Wouldn't These People Hire Me?

On the great job hunt, two years ago, I applied for a job at KOTV in Tulsa. I remember the call letters because it incorporates my initials. A quick visit to their website turned up this little beauty of a news item.

Some People...

...have too much time on their hands.

Special to Michiganders: How many of you recognize the first few molested landmarks?

Facing Off (not a hockey-related post)

Good news for the terminally ugly.

Still Waiting

C-Town has a hundred-odd year history of Minor League Baseball. Golden Park is one of the nicest minor league ballparks around (and was also home of the 1996 Olympic Softball Competition), and some truly great players have passed through Golden Park on their way to the big time (Think Hank Aaron, who I met last summer).

A little over a year ago, the RedStixx announced that they'd be leaving C-Town to pursue a better life in Cleveland (They're an Indians affiliate... now known as the Lake County Captains). Now, not many people went to the RedStixx games. Folks here in C-Town have a reputation for not giving two shits about much of anything. But when they moved at the end of last season, it was like the city lost a little piece of it's history.

Two weeks ago, I went to Golden Park. It looked horrible. The field was weedy, the pitcher's mound was flat, and the paint was peeling off the walls. Then, New Life! Albany's South Georgia Waves had to make an emergency move, and just a week before the start of the season, they moved into Golden Park. You could practically feel the city breathe a sigh of relief.

The home opener was supposed to be tonight, but it poured all night Sunday and all day Monday, and four inches of rain isn't very condusive to playing ball. So we wait another day for the return of baseball to C-Town.

Withdrawl Symptoms

I'm suffering severe internet withdrawl. Something's f-ed up at Raycom's corporate offices, so none of us have internet or email access at work right now. In fact, not a single Raycom station has internet access or email. It seriously sucks, and not just from a social standpoint. I'm not getting press releases, scores, or anything else that I need to do my job. Fortunately, almost everything got rained out (or worse, snowed out) today, so I didn't need to worry too much about it. Tomorrow, though, may be another story.

Victory!

For the first time in my career as a professional sports lady, I've got the proof to back up my reputation. Guess who won the NCAA pool at work? Guess who won second place, too??? yep. I took first and second place. And just to close out the bracket, Cory took third. It's still not gonna pay my taxes, though!

Take A Chance On Me

My friend "Crackhouse Nicki" is getting married this September... and she's picked a DJ for the reception. Good call... you're always taking your life into your own hands when you hire a wedding band. For example, I just read that Russell Crowe has hired this band to play at his reception. Now, I love ABBA as much as the next disco-lovin' fool... but there is such a thing as taking a good thing too far.

I'm In the Money (maybe...)

All right... entering the weekend, I was in first place and fourth place in the office NCAA pool. Since then, I think I've locked myself into at least third place. My good bracket (the one that was in first place) still has Kansas going to the championship-- and winning the championship, in fact-- so if KU wins, then I think I'm probably in good shape.
My other bracket (the one that was in fourth place) has both Kansas and Syracuse in the championship game-- with the Orangemen winning. So if Syracuse wins, I think I'm golden on that bracket.
So things are looking good. We'll see after tomorrow night.

A Little Tax-Time Humor

Courtesy of my dad:

A dad walks into a market with his young son. The kid is holding a quarter. Suddenly, the boy starts choking, going blue in the face. The dad realizes the boy has swallowed the quarter and starts panicking, shouting for help.

A well dressed, attractive, but serious looking woman in a blue business suit is sitting at a coffee bar in the market reading her newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. At the sound of the commotion, she looks up, puts her coffee cup down on the saucer, neatly folds the newspaper and places it on the counter, gets up from her seat and makes her way, unhurried, across the market.

Reaching the boy, the woman carefully takes hold of the boy's testicles and starts to squeeze, gently at first and then ever more firmly. After a few seconds the boy convulses violently and coughs up the quarter, which the woman deftly catches in her free hand. Releasing the boy, the woman hands the coin to the father and walks back to her seat in the coffee bar without saying a word.

As soon as he is sure that his son has suffered no lasting ill effects, the father rushes over to the woman and starts thanking her saying,
"I've never seen anybody do anything like that before, it was fantastic. Are you a doctor?"

"No," the woman replies. "I work for the IRS".

I Renounce My Homeland (except for its hockey team)

Normally, when people ask me where I'm from, I say "Detroit." The city may not have the best reputation in the world, but telling people I'm a Detroiter is a whole lot easier than trying to explain where Rochester Hills is.

However, when I read news stories like this, I wonder what the hell I should tell people.

Pardon Our Progress

I'm in the process of remodeling around here. There are some new links on the left (mostly stuff I've referenced in blog entries past). There's also a new link called "Pictures From Columbus." Right now, there's only two pictures on it (and only one from Columbus), but I promise more in the future.

Road Trippin'

Ok, so here's one of the stories from Jan's visit. As I mentioned before, she's an avid bird-watcher. Her "life list" is at 550 different species (and if that doesn't seem that impressive, try to name all the different types of birds you've seen in the wild. I think most folks can name about 25). Total, there's somewhere over 800 different species found in the US.

Well, once you've gotten that many birds on your "life list," you can imagine that new birds get harder and harder to find. Either they only habitate one place in the whole country (Like Eurasian Tree Sparrows, who only live in the St. Louis Metro Area), or they're just hard to see (Barn Owls, for example, only come out at night).

Jan really wanted to find a Bachmann's Sparrow. She'd been looking for them a few times before, and never found one. They only live in the Southeast, and they only live in pine forests. So, one of the first days she was here, we headed off to Piedmont National Wildlife Refuge near Macon. There's no easy way to get to Macon from Columbus. It's only about 100 miles, but it takes over two hours one-way.

So we drive... and we drive... and we drive. The stretch to Macon is a very tedious trip. No hills, no valleys, really no towns between here and there. We get to Piedmont, and the park ranger tells us "The sparrows don't start singing until Mid-April." (note to self: Always call first before going to Macon for anything).

Let me explain something about Bachmann's Sparrows here. If the little bastards aren't singing, you aren't going to see them. They hide in the underbrush of the pine forests. When they feel a little frisky, they pop up onto a low branch, sing a little song, then hop back down to the underbrush again. Oh, and they're dirt-colored, so they blend in very well. Anyway, they weren't singing. We wandered around the woods for a few hours, found nothing but gnats, said "Screw this," and left.

Well, there's this tiny little town outside the NWR named Juliette, Georgia. We stop in town for a bite to eat, and it turns out that Juliette is where they filmed the movie "Fried Green Tomatoes." The whole town is actually smaller than a movie studio. In fact, it may be smaller than my apartment. We wanted to eat at the "Whistle Stop Cafe," but it was closed. Everything in Georgia is closed on Mondays. We settled for taking a picture in front of it, and ate at the other restaurant in town, of course dining on Fried Green Tomatoes.

We did eventually find the sparrow, though it required another day-long trip to Quitman, Georgia. 159 miles, one-way. You know what? He looked like a sparrow.

Diary of a Despot

And you thought Wil Wheaton was the most famous blogger out there. Check out Kim Jong Il's on-line journal.

Vacation Update

There'll be more stories from vacation coming up. I'm trying to get the pictures uploaded to a new webpage, and the whole process is taking a little longer than I thought. I don't get a day off until Thursday, so it may be a while for them.

Thank God for Mom and Dad

So, as you know, my mom visited last week. We didn't get on each other's nerves too much, so it was a pretty nice visit. She told me that it was the best vacation she'd been on in a long time, but I don't think that's saying much, since she always gets sick when she goes on vacation and has a miserable time as a result.

I have to say, it was a pretty good vacation for me. We were going to be doing a lot of driving, so we rented a car for the week. My car's pretty reliable, but it was in the upper 70s and low 80s all week, and my air conditioner's been busted for about a year and a half. Not fun in the hot Georgia sun.

Out of the blue, my dad, Steve, decided to pay (about $475) to get my A/C fixed. How cool is that? Then, on top of that, Jan bought me a new gas grill for our patio.

This leads me to a clash of ideals, though. I'm only child, so I was a little spoiled, but nothing to the extent that I've been seeing lately. I always mock my friends when their Moms and Dads baby them. For example, Cory's mom takes care of all his banking and credit card bills. Some of my co-workers live in the lap of luxury because their parents pay their rent. They drive cars that their mommies and daddies bought for them. Then, there's one of my former co-workers, who got fired a few months back. When she left town, her parents bought her a plane ticket, then her dad all the way down from Wisconsin to move all her stuff for her!

Am I becoming one of them???

Website of the Week:

I'm not joking... this website really exists.



I don't even know what to say.

A Really Bad Joke

I get much of my sense of humor from my father... who really digs bad jokes. Today, he emailed me this one... It's so bad, I think it might qualify as child abuse:

Far away in the tropical waters of the Caribbean, two prawns were swimming around in the sea - one called Justin and the other called Christian.
The prawns were constantly being harassed and threatened by sharks that patrolled the area.
Finally one day Justin said to Christian, "I'm bored and frustrated at being a prawn, I wish I was a shark, then I wouldn't have any worries about being eaten."
As Justin had his mind firmly on becoming a predator, a mysterious cod appeared and said, "Your wish is granted", and lo and behold, Justin turned into a shark.
Horrified, Christian immediately swam away, afraid of being eaten by his old mate.
Time went on (as it invariably does...) and Justin found himself becoming bored and lonely as a shark. All his old mates simply swam away whenever he came close to them. Justin finally realised that his new menacing appearance was the cause of his sad plight.
While out swimming alone one day he sees the mysterious cod again and can't believe his luck. Justin figured that the fish could change him back into a prawn. He begs the cod to change him back so, lo and behold, he is turned back into a prawn.
With tears of joy in his tiny little eyes, Justin swam back to his friends and bought them all a cocktail. (The punch line does not involve a prawn cocktail - it's much, much worse).
Looking around the gathering at the reef, he searched for his old pal.
"Where's Christian?" he asked.
"He's at home, distraught that his best friend changed sides to the enemy and became a shark", came the reply.
Eager to put things right again and end the mutual pain and torture, he set off to Christian's house. As he opened the coral gate the memories came flooding back. He banged on the door and shouted, "It's me, Justin, your old friend, come out and see me again. "
Christian replied "No way man, you'll eat me. You're a shark, the enemy and I'll not be tricked.
"Justin cried back "No, I'm not. That was the old me. I've changed."

(here it comes)

"I've found Cod. I'm a prawn again Christian"

ugh.