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Thursday, December 11th, 2008
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11:21 am - Ever notice that Jack White has Bobby Peru teeth?
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| Monday, December 8th, 2008
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11:46 pm - Segue City
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My brother-in-law has a magic iPod. He has several stories about times that its "random" function has put together surprisingly serendipitous selections. For example, one time it played two different covers of the same Beatles song, followed by the Beatles original. Stuff like that.
I've always been jealous of that. My iPod is a pretty good DJ--it can string together a nice collection of genre-related jams--but it has never done anything magic. Until tonight.
First it played "Kentucky Waltz" by Bill Monroe, which contains the lyric "We were walking that night in Kentucky/Beneath a beautiful harvest moon."
Then the very next song it played was "June" by Camper Van Beethoven, which has the lyric "Are you weary of the lengthening days/Do you secretly wish for November's rain/And the harvest moon to wane in the sky?"
Unfortunately, it hasn't played any other moon references, but two in a row is pretty good. Especially considering that, earlier this evening, I was listening to my wife's CD compilation of moon-related songs, including Neil Young's "Harvest Moon." My iPod was in the next room at the time. Maybe it overheard.
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| Monday, December 1st, 2008
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2:05 pm - Sack Blabbath
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Last night, as I was waiting to check out at the H-E-B, I observed the checker. He was a big guy, semi-dangerous looking, possibly an ex-con, a good Austin eccentric. He was talking to a UT sorority girl who had come in to buy cold medicine. He quizzed her about her symptoms and allergies and then launched into a lengthy explanation of natural cures she could try, as she squirmed uncomfortably and eyed the exit.
Finally he was done and it was my turn. As he scanned my groceries, I sacked them. That's a quirky thing about my H-E-B. You end up sacking your own groceries quite a bit, especially if you're there late. It's a 24-hour store, and they seem to send the sackers home at 10 pm. It was 11:30, so I was on my own.
I don't mind sacking groceries; in fact, I enjoy it. In my first job in high school I was a grocery sacker at a Tom Thumb. I loved that job. It was hard work, but I got a feeling of great satisfaction from it. There's an art to packing the bags just right. You should stack things so the bag holds its shape and the groceries don't fall into a heap of rubble. It's like playing Tetris. I also prided myself on my speed. I'd pick up and throw groceries with my right hand, catch and pack them with my left. I could get going pretty fast and sometimes customers would gasp in amazement and delight as their bottles of salad dressing whizzed through the air with dizzying speed.
I received on-the-job training at Tom Thumb, but later I learned there was actually a training manual. I looked at it once. It had a picture of a bag with eggs on the bottom and cans on the top. This picture was labeled "WRONG." Next to it was a picture of a bag with cans on the bottom and eggs on the top, labeled "RIGHT." We sackers had a good laugh about that.
Anyway, back to last night. As I started sacking my groceries, I decided to strike up a conversation with the checker since he seemed like an interesting guy. I made a joke, saying, "How does it go--eggs on bottom and cans on top, or the other way around? I can never remember."
The checker looked at me sincerely and said, "You put cans on the bottom and eggs on top. That way they don't break." He went on to provide a bunch of other sacking advice, and he was being so nice and non-judgmental about it that I didn't have the heart to tell him I was kidding.
So, there I was, letting a stranger believe I would be stupid enough to stack a bunch of cans on top a carton of eggs. Oh well. No biggie. I know in my heart that I'm a professional.
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| Friday, October 31st, 2008
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10:46 am - Happy Halloween
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| Thursday, October 30th, 2008
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11:18 pm - How to get Andrew's tip
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I met Sean for lunch today at the Gattis by campus. I walked up to the register to purchase a buffet. The Gattis Guy behind the counter looked at my shirt and said, "Hello, Mr. Lee." I remembered that I was wearing the Bruce Lee T-shirt that Liz gave me.
Gattis Guy said, "Are you surprised that I knew it was Bruce Lee on your shirt?"
I said, "Actually, yeah. A lot of people get it wrong. One guy told me he thought it was Neil Young."
GG narrowed his eyes and peered at the image on the shirt. "I'm not seeing it. His eyes don't look very Asian in that picture, but still. I could see how someone could think it was Eddie Van Halen, but not Neil Young."
He handed me the credit card slip. Even though the place is a self-serve buffet, I added a tip for the guy.
You mention Bruce Lee and Eddie Van Halen in the first two minutes you meet me, and I'm going to tip you, by God.
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| Monday, October 13th, 2008
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12:52 am - Proof that dogs can't read
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| Friday, September 26th, 2008
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12:38 am - New-parent hygiene
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I'm not complaining. I love having a baby. But one of the compromises I've had to make to accommodate the new-parent lifestyle is personal hygiene.
I used to shower and shave every day. These days--not so much. I try to stay clean, but it's rare that I have the luxury of taking a steaming hot shower and then lathering up for a nice invigorating shave. I could do that every day, but I'd have to forgo sleep. I'm not willing to do that, so I have to sneak in my cleaning in small increments.
To give you an example, here's a typical day. I sleep in as long as possible in the morning. I work from home, so when I sleep late I must immediately log in and start working. So, no shower.
At lunchtime, I need to run to the bank. I don't want the bank teller to think me malodorous, so before I leave the house I sponge bathe under my arms and put on some deodorant.
At 3 pm, I step in some coagulated apple juice that spilled out of the baby's bottle. My foot's all sticky, so I wash it off.
At 9 pm, I give the baby a bath in his little plastic bath tub. He thinks it's fun to splash water on me, so my lower legs get a nice rinse.
At midnight, I try to go to sleep, but my face is too itchy. I get up and have a quick shave. It is a painful shave because my beard isn't softened from a shower, but at least it feels good when I'm done. Also, I don't have to worry if I cut myself, because it will surely have stopped bleeding by morning.
At 3 am, the baby wakes up crying. I carry him around and sing him back to sleep. Just before he dozes off, he spits up some milk on my shoulder. I put him back to bed and rinse off the milk.
See? In 24 hours, I've managed to wash both underarms, one foot, both shins, half my face, and one shoulder. It all adds up, and over the course of a few days I eventually wash every spot.
OK; enough blogging for the evening. It's late, and I need a shave.
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| Monday, August 25th, 2008
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8:57 am - Happy Birthday Rob Halford!
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| Sunday, August 17th, 2008
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11:36 pm - Say Goodbye To My Foxy Asso
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On my first trip to Rome in 2001, I spotted something in a grocery store that I thought was pretty funny, in a Beavis-and-Butt-Head kind of way:
Yes, it's the Foxy Asso. It's not funny in Italian--"asso" is short for "assorbente" which means "absorbent." But in English, it's a laff riot, at least if, like me, you are entertained by fourth-grade-level toilet humor.
(Don't tell anyone, but it's actually paper towels, not toilet paper. The Italian TP is simply called Foxy. Apparently, in Italy absorbency is a desired quality only when dealing with paper towels.)
On my next trip to Rome two years later, I saw the Foxy Asso again. I decided to bring some home. I wasn't sure what I'd do with it, but I had to have it. I bought it (trying to keep a straight face), stuffed it in my already overstuffed suitcase, and brought it back to the States.
After I got it home, the novelty wore off pretty quickly. I left it on the back of the toilet a couple of times when guests came over, but that was about it.
Still, though, I never threw away the Foxy Asso; in fact, I never opened it. After all, to replace it, I'd have to fly all the way to Rome and back. It lived under the sink in my house for years.
It even made the move to my new house. I stored it in the back of the bathroom cabinet, still not quite able to part with my Foxy Asso.
Then it happened. One day I was in the bathroom and I realized I was out of toilet paper. Completely out. I considered my options. Was there a reasonable substitute nearby? There was a box of kleenex in the bedroom, but it was the kind with Vick's VapoRub in it. Not a good option. Then I saw it: the Foxy Asso. I sighed. I knew its time had come.
It was a sad day. But now that I think about it, it's probably better this way. I think that every roll of paper towels longs to be used. It was probably sad languishing like that in the back of the bathroom cabinet. It has finally served its purpose, so it is at peace.
Besides, now that I've blogged about it, the Foxy Asso is immortalized, but it's no longer taking up space in my house. Just like the cool 7-11 smock that I had so much trouble parting with last year. Remember that? The decision still pains me, but I have to admit I haven't had a need to wear it since I gave it away.
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| Monday, August 11th, 2008
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11:09 pm - Rubberbabybuggyproofing
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Bodhi started to crawl this week. So begins the babyproofing.
Actually, I started it a few weeks ago when he learned how to slam open and shut the drawers of his changing table. At 10 pm. I was up till midnight with the drill and screwdriver putting latches on all the drawers and doors.
But now that he's crawling, we have to babyproof more and more areas. Last night, he pulled himself up to standing on his baby gate. So we have to start babyproofing everything that is reachable from three feet off the ground instead of just one foot.
I mentioned all of this daunting babyproofing work in an email to my friend Earl. He assured me that babyproofing is a never-ending task. He wrote, "Just when you think you've got everything sealed, latched, put away or hidden, out pops baby with a beaker of fuming sulfuric acid that you thought you threw out long ago."
I'm pretty sure I threw out the last beaker, but if there is one hanging around somewhere, Bodhi is sure to find it.
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| Thursday, July 17th, 2008
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10:49 am - Groverfield
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| Tuesday, July 15th, 2008
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1:17 pm - Camel toe
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| Tuesday, July 1st, 2008
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11:59 pm - Midyear check-in
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Today is the 183rd day of the year. There are 183 days left. We're at the exact middle point of 2008. Now would be a good time to check in on my New Years resolution.
As you may remember, my resolution for 2008 was to do qigong (energy and breathing exercises) twice a day. You may also remember that I decided to use the Seinfeld method of using a wet-erase calendar to track my progress.
If I skipped a day, it would be pretty obvious. Keeps the pressure on.
I made some rules for myself to keep myself honest. Each practice had to be at least 10 minutes long. The two practices had to be at least four hours apart. (Previously, I had been known to do two 10-minute practices back-to-back and count it as two in a day.) Both practices had to be completed before sun-up the next day.
How am I doing? As Larry David would say, pritty pritty pritty good. In the 183 days of 2008 so far, I've never missed a day. And I've managed to fit in two practices almost every day. One sad day in June I woke up to realize I had only practiced once the day before. (The calendar shows half an X on that day.) Still, it's a pretty good record, and my system is really working for me. I do not want to break the chain of Xs on the calendar.
There were some close calls, though. Several times, I would realize at midnight that I hadn't practiced yet. On those occasions, I would immediately practice, then set my alarm for 4 am. And yes, I would get up at 4 am and practice. Because I did not want to break the chain of Xs.
On a couple of occasions, I realized at 1 am that I hadn't practiced yet. On those days, I had to set the alarm for 5 am for the second practice, and just hope the sun hadn't come up yet. A couple of times, the sun came up as I practiced, but never before I started. So the practice counted.
Maybe this sounds a little crazy to you, but that's how my mind works.
Anyway, it's close to midnight and I haven't practiced yet today. Gotta go get the first one in, and set my alarm for 4:00.
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| Friday, June 20th, 2008
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8:45 am - Say Hello Kitty To My Little Friend
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I found this WTF item on Topless Robot. Evike.com is selling this little beauty for only $1200. It's a one-of-a-kind custom-painted air rifle. As the seller says, "Pink is confidence."
Before you buy, read the disclaimer carefully: "This gun does not represent sex orientation and IS NOT designed for training in mind." Really. It says that.
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| Thursday, June 19th, 2008
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10:35 pm - I am Boo Radley. The squirrels are Jem and Scout.
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Last fall I plucked a few boxes of pecans off of my backyard lawn. I couldn't decide what to do with them, so they eventually went stale. They're still sitting around in boxes on the back porch.
Occasionally I'll catch a squirrel out there eating a pecan. I'm actually surprised at how rarely the squirrels find them. That gave me an idea. I decided to start leaving pecans in places that the squirrels would be likely to find them.
There is a tree near the back porch that serves as Grand Central Terminal for neighborhood squirrels. They constantly use it to get to other trees, to the roof, to the neighbor's yard. There's a hole in the trunk of the tree at eye level. I figured if I left a pecan there, a squirrel would find it.
I was right. I went back outside not much later, and the nut was gone.
Now I put a nut or two in the hole every time I go out in the backyard. Invariably, they're gone by the next time I'm out there. At this rate, I should get rid of most of the pecans before the next batch start raining down into the yard.
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6:34 pm - Guided By Real Estate
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| Tuesday, May 13th, 2008
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1:35 pm - Foo Fighters Rider Threatens "Catering Jihad"
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Whoever wrote the Foo Fighters' tour rider is hilarious. The document has some crazy demands, but at least they have a sense of humor about it.
The rider specifies a "selection of cereals—unopened. Do not recycle from last night's Dio show."
It encourages caterers to "think outside the box" regarding chicken breasts. "I cannot tell you how many times in catering all over the world, I have seen island after tiny island of chicken boobs floating in a mercury like sauce that gets pawned off as a thirteen dollar (US) entrée. This is not a diss to lunch rooms and the genus of the tater tot or the surly lunch lady per se. It's just a thought."
It also asks for "Sausages. Veggie sausages. Big ass kielbasas that make men self conscious."
Apparently size is also an issue with drinking cups. "No snippy ass, tiny tim, two drops of dew in a cup sized cup, please."
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| Friday, April 18th, 2008
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11:51 am - Fast Speaking Woman
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Anne Waldman gave a reading at UT last night. Anne is a poet who cofounded the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at the Naropa University in Boulder with Allen Ginsberg. Liz studied with Anne at Naropa, so she was looking forward to seeing her again and hearing her read.
I wasn't sure what to wear to the poetry reading, so I asked Liz as we got ready to go. Here is a transcript of our conversation.
ANDREW: "Should I wear a black turtleneck and beret and shave my beard into a goatee?"
LIZ: (Annoyed pause.) "No."
The reading was awesome. Anne is interesting, funny, larger than life. Her poetry is a relentless flow of powerful, evocative words. It was inspiring. It made me want to start journaling again. It reminded me that I love words.
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| Sunday, April 13th, 2008
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9:34 pm - Lazy Sunday
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| Sunday, April 6th, 2008
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12:53 am - Gay scientists isolate Christian gene
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