hey to all who might occasionally stop by this blog to see what's going on. sorry that this site hasn't exactly been a font of interesting and/or humorous anecdotes lately; just feels like 2007 has gotten off to a quick pace in terms of work and all the other things that consume your time after you leave the office on any given workday.
also contributing to the decreased post factor of late have been my efforts to actually get away from my desk at lunch and be social with others. i really need to move this whole blogging operation out of the lunchtime slot and into the "at home watching TV" segment of the day.
rest assured i have a few post ideas that have been simmering on the backburner for a while now so if i can get myself organized (and get our finances in order, and complete our tax returns, and so on) i'll stop being a deadbeat and start providing moderate entertainment value again.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
B to the E ( to the C.O.P.)
worked late last friday during the post-Christmas work week; came home around 7:15. went in the door, petted our domestic animals, kissed the wife as she prepared the evening's meal.
no more than a few moments later, what do we hear from the parking lot but the holiday sounds of "Help!" being shouted across the complex. assessing the situation from our window, i saw a mid-20s-ish couple running from the direction of our building towards the guard station at the front gate. shortly thereafter we went out on the balcony and, as the couple returned, asked the question with the known-in-advance answer: "is anything wrong?"
the reply was this : "there's someone in our apartment!" our neighbors across the hall had gone downstairs to see what was going on and help out so Grace had me call the cops and then sent me out as well, dual-armed with standard-issue suburban-hero pepper spray and 9-iron.
apparently the couple had both just returned home and, upon opening up their front door, immediately heard someone moving around in one of their rooms (hence the prudent and hasty relocation from the apartment to a more public area where they could call attention to the matter).
their apartment is on the first floor of our building, facing the the outside of the complex (which is bordered by a tall but not unscalable wrought-iron fence). the Breaker & Enterer had popped in one of the smaller bedroom windows to gain access to the place. by the time the militia was assembled Mr. B & E had had plenty of time to make his escape on foot, disappearing back to wherever he had come from. we looked around the area and didn't find anyone hiding underneath a car or anything. nobody, myself included, was volunteering to take a look inside the apartment.
i had just driven down our complex's street a few minutes earlier and saw no getaway car, so more than likely the perp lives right across the street; comforting.
after a few minutes of milling around and checking to make sure that i was holding the pepper spray correctly so that i didn't have one of those moments of painful comedy when trying to hose down a meth-addicted burglar, the cops pulled up. the female cop took the lead in going to the door while the male partner (who, while tall and fairly big, had a Harry Potter-esque face complete with glasses that said 'new recruit') brought up the rear with the police shotgun.
now, i realize that the situation was not "cool"; i.e. the violation of privacy and security, the possible loss of valuable goods, all in all not a good event for those affected.
but... there's something hardwired to the brain, or at least to one belonging to someone who's played Doom or any other serviceable first-person shooter, that when you hear someone ready a shotgun with the instantly-recognizable "chi-chit" of a shell being loaded in the chamber, one part of you will think "whoa...cool". it is unavoidable
long story short, the cops searched the now-personless apartment (fyi , at least in Houston it appears that the current phraseology for police before searching an area is "Police. Make Yourself Known") and found nothing.
we later learned from Officer Potter that there has been a rash of break-ins at our complex and another across the street.
our downstairs neighbors are getting out of their lease penalty-free although they're leaving without the laptop, iPod, or engagement ring that they once had.
Grace and i have been planning to look for a home this year; no better motivation to start i suppose.
no more than a few moments later, what do we hear from the parking lot but the holiday sounds of "Help!" being shouted across the complex. assessing the situation from our window, i saw a mid-20s-ish couple running from the direction of our building towards the guard station at the front gate. shortly thereafter we went out on the balcony and, as the couple returned, asked the question with the known-in-advance answer: "is anything wrong?"
the reply was this : "there's someone in our apartment!" our neighbors across the hall had gone downstairs to see what was going on and help out so Grace had me call the cops and then sent me out as well, dual-armed with standard-issue suburban-hero pepper spray and 9-iron.
apparently the couple had both just returned home and, upon opening up their front door, immediately heard someone moving around in one of their rooms (hence the prudent and hasty relocation from the apartment to a more public area where they could call attention to the matter).
their apartment is on the first floor of our building, facing the the outside of the complex (which is bordered by a tall but not unscalable wrought-iron fence). the Breaker & Enterer had popped in one of the smaller bedroom windows to gain access to the place. by the time the militia was assembled Mr. B & E had had plenty of time to make his escape on foot, disappearing back to wherever he had come from. we looked around the area and didn't find anyone hiding underneath a car or anything. nobody, myself included, was volunteering to take a look inside the apartment.
i had just driven down our complex's street a few minutes earlier and saw no getaway car, so more than likely the perp lives right across the street; comforting.
after a few minutes of milling around and checking to make sure that i was holding the pepper spray correctly so that i didn't have one of those moments of painful comedy when trying to hose down a meth-addicted burglar, the cops pulled up. the female cop took the lead in going to the door while the male partner (who, while tall and fairly big, had a Harry Potter-esque face complete with glasses that said 'new recruit') brought up the rear with the police shotgun.
now, i realize that the situation was not "cool"; i.e. the violation of privacy and security, the possible loss of valuable goods, all in all not a good event for those affected.
but... there's something hardwired to the brain, or at least to one belonging to someone who's played Doom or any other serviceable first-person shooter, that when you hear someone ready a shotgun with the instantly-recognizable "chi-chit" of a shell being loaded in the chamber, one part of you will think "whoa...cool". it is unavoidable
long story short, the cops searched the now-personless apartment (fyi , at least in Houston it appears that the current phraseology for police before searching an area is "Police. Make Yourself Known") and found nothing.
we later learned from Officer Potter that there has been a rash of break-ins at our complex and another across the street.
our downstairs neighbors are getting out of their lease penalty-free although they're leaving without the laptop, iPod, or engagement ring that they once had.
Grace and i have been planning to look for a home this year; no better motivation to start i suppose.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
would you like to take a ride in my _onda?
so sometime yesterday, between the moment i parked my 2001 Honda Accord in the garage across the street from my place of business downtown and the moment i walked back to it in the evening to transport myself home after a long day at work, some passerby became mesmerized with the "H" Honda logo on my car's trunk and decided that he absolutely just had to have it!
As Superintendent Chalmers once lamented to Principal Seymour Skinner upon discovery of the theft of his own 1979 Honda Accord's logo:
"Holy jumping Caesar's catfish! My H has been stolen! Awww, thats how people know its a Honda. Why would you drive a Honda if you cant show it off?"
once i laughed, but now i can share his pain.
honda shop says that the metal logo runs $16.72, who knows how hot the dealership coals will get for labor costs (the metal prongs that affix the logo seem to have been left in the trunk, so there's probably some extra elbow grease cost to get those out).
there are BMWs and Mercedes parked all around me every day, wouldn't either of those car emblems look better hanging from a gold chain?
As Superintendent Chalmers once lamented to Principal Seymour Skinner upon discovery of the theft of his own 1979 Honda Accord's logo:
"Holy jumping Caesar's catfish! My H has been stolen! Awww, thats how people know its a Honda. Why would you drive a Honda if you cant show it off?"
once i laughed, but now i can share his pain.
honda shop says that the metal logo runs $16.72, who knows how hot the dealership coals will get for labor costs (the metal prongs that affix the logo seem to have been left in the trunk, so there's probably some extra elbow grease cost to get those out).
there are BMWs and Mercedes parked all around me every day, wouldn't either of those car emblems look better hanging from a gold chain?
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
the self-confident waiter
probably a couple of months ago (when things were busy and blog-posting time was in short supply) my parents and younger sister came to Houston.
we all went out to eat that night at Houston's, one of our favorite restaurants in the area.
all together we numbered just five people.
our waiter provided us with adequate service; waters were refilled, ketchup was provided upon request.
when the check was presented, however, it was evident that the waiter believed strongly in the quality of his labors relative to our dining experience.
the waiter believed in himself so much that he wrote in an 18% tip and the total due on the receipt, as if the review of his service was a foregone conclusion.
unless Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed were sitting at our table in ghost form our group did not meet the typical 'large-party' status that usually endures an automatic gratuity.
maybe the waiter knew that Buddha is a notoriously cheap tipper (and he always passes it off like 'hey tips are just a fleeting material possession, the desire of which you need to relinquish". pfffffft)
we all went out to eat that night at Houston's, one of our favorite restaurants in the area.
all together we numbered just five people.
our waiter provided us with adequate service; waters were refilled, ketchup was provided upon request.
when the check was presented, however, it was evident that the waiter believed strongly in the quality of his labors relative to our dining experience.
the waiter believed in himself so much that he wrote in an 18% tip and the total due on the receipt, as if the review of his service was a foregone conclusion.
unless Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed were sitting at our table in ghost form our group did not meet the typical 'large-party' status that usually endures an automatic gratuity.
maybe the waiter knew that Buddha is a notoriously cheap tipper (and he always passes it off like 'hey tips are just a fleeting material possession, the desire of which you need to relinquish". pfffffft)
T is for Trashcan
grace and i live in a nice apartment complex. it's not in the ritziest part of town, there are fancier properties out there, but i'd say ours is well ahead of most of the pack in Houston.
given the property's generally upscale appearance you'd think that it would attract (and rent prices would demand) more responsible and developmentally mature tenants.
this is not so.
as months ago when the grounds around our complex's eastern wall were vandalized by the aerial refuse of the The Dastardly Femme Discarder, so now is our very building being visited by the Vanishing Leaver.
The VL is some fellow tenant who either lives in our building or at least parks in front of it on a regular basis. About every week Grace and/or I will come home from work or an evening errand and discover his handiwork.
For whatever reason the VL, when exiting his/her parked car, feels compelled to leave a fast-food bag (assuredly full of leftover wrappers, cartons, and unwanted food) and paper drink cup neatly arranged between his/her car and the car in the adjoining space.
Grace's theory is that the VL is a closet fast-food eater who must conceal his/her secret shame from would-be disapprovers living in the apartment with him/her.
my theory is that the VL is flawed at a fundamental level. some derailment of the maturing process has to occur for you to lack the basic understanding and agreement that trash is placed in a trashcan.
an average of thirty steps from the parking spaces in front of our building would provide a round trip to the nearest dumpster and back.
this is not too much to ask.
given the property's generally upscale appearance you'd think that it would attract (and rent prices would demand) more responsible and developmentally mature tenants.
this is not so.
as months ago when the grounds around our complex's eastern wall were vandalized by the aerial refuse of the The Dastardly Femme Discarder, so now is our very building being visited by the Vanishing Leaver.
The VL is some fellow tenant who either lives in our building or at least parks in front of it on a regular basis. About every week Grace and/or I will come home from work or an evening errand and discover his handiwork.
For whatever reason the VL, when exiting his/her parked car, feels compelled to leave a fast-food bag (assuredly full of leftover wrappers, cartons, and unwanted food) and paper drink cup neatly arranged between his/her car and the car in the adjoining space.
Grace's theory is that the VL is a closet fast-food eater who must conceal his/her secret shame from would-be disapprovers living in the apartment with him/her.
my theory is that the VL is flawed at a fundamental level. some derailment of the maturing process has to occur for you to lack the basic understanding and agreement that trash is placed in a trashcan.
an average of thirty steps from the parking spaces in front of our building would provide a round trip to the nearest dumpster and back.
this is not too much to ask.
Monday, November 06, 2006
no wire hangers, ever!!
...to borrow a line from 'Mommie Dearest'.
grace and i have a healthy gift card balance with Bed Bath and Beyond thanks to generous wedding attendees (and yes, i still have one or two entries about the wedding, and the honeymoon, that i need to write but that will take more time than i usually have during work lunchtime).
some of those funds we opted to use to buy wood hangers to replace the miles and miles of cheap wire hangers that we have hanging in our closet (they that continue to multiply due to businesswear dry cleaning).
we started out actually receiving twenty of them as a direct wedding gift and, childish though this may sound, using them actually makes me feel like an adult. the concept of wire hangers in my mind is wrapped up in college dorm frugality and impermanence. solid wood hangers (now with ribbed trouser bar!) make the clothes hanging on them just kinda look better, there's a more satisfying 'clack' when you're rummaging through and you move one against the other. they make you feel like you're choosing your outfit for the day from a high-end clothing store at the mall (despite most of my clothes being decidedly not high-end).
at only $15 (or $10 for the savvy BBB coupon-clippers among you) for twenty hangers, i highly recommend buying several sets for your wardrobe. unless you get really crazy with them for some reason, they should last you a lifetime so it's a pretty cheap investment to spruce up your closet a bit. we just bought eighty more hangers this weekend and i'm waiting on the next load of washed clothes to be able to put them into service.
and yes, i am fully aware that enthusiasm for home accessories confirms without question my transformation into the Modern Wedded Male genus species.
grace and i have a healthy gift card balance with Bed Bath and Beyond thanks to generous wedding attendees (and yes, i still have one or two entries about the wedding, and the honeymoon, that i need to write but that will take more time than i usually have during work lunchtime).
some of those funds we opted to use to buy wood hangers to replace the miles and miles of cheap wire hangers that we have hanging in our closet (they that continue to multiply due to businesswear dry cleaning).
we started out actually receiving twenty of them as a direct wedding gift and, childish though this may sound, using them actually makes me feel like an adult. the concept of wire hangers in my mind is wrapped up in college dorm frugality and impermanence. solid wood hangers (now with ribbed trouser bar!) make the clothes hanging on them just kinda look better, there's a more satisfying 'clack' when you're rummaging through and you move one against the other. they make you feel like you're choosing your outfit for the day from a high-end clothing store at the mall (despite most of my clothes being decidedly not high-end).
at only $15 (or $10 for the savvy BBB coupon-clippers among you) for twenty hangers, i highly recommend buying several sets for your wardrobe. unless you get really crazy with them for some reason, they should last you a lifetime so it's a pretty cheap investment to spruce up your closet a bit. we just bought eighty more hangers this weekend and i'm waiting on the next load of washed clothes to be able to put them into service.
and yes, i am fully aware that enthusiasm for home accessories confirms without question my transformation into the Modern Wedded Male genus species.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Monday Night Debate, y'all
so MSNBC is discussing the nationwide political races; only interesting thing about that is that they preface the introduction of segments with this Monday Night Football -esque graphic of a red/white/blue donkey symbol on the left and a red/white/blue elephant symbol on the right of the screen that clash violently together in the center of the screen and explode.
reasoned discourse? who needs that anyways...
"Democrats, are you ready? Republicans, are you ready? All right, let's get it on!"
reasoned discourse? who needs that anyways...
"Democrats, are you ready? Republicans, are you ready? All right, let's get it on!"
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