Date: May 22, 2007
Time: 23:20
Place: Still in this vale of tears.
I realize my course work is over, but the last few days were pretty bad and the grace note was struck today. All the following details are true.
On Friday, I went to the surgeon in Boston. He said the cancer wasn't that bad, he predicted a full recovery. He'd just cut out a chunk of the jaw and replace it with a graft from a tibia, a bone in the leg which he held in low regard as a leg bone, but a wonderful source of grafts. While it was blending in with its new surroundings, I would accomodate it by breathing through an esophageal airway and eating through a tube in my nose for a week or so in order not to disturb it.
I was expecting arthroscopy. I had to ask the guy to shut up because I was about to faint. Apparently, its quite a common phenomena. I always thought that "make sure you're sitting down" stuff was pure sit-com, but it's true, the nurse said particularly so among big guys like me. It's a fight-or-flight thing. I could feel the blood drawing deep into my body away from my skin.
So, anyway, as I'm enjoying my one pleasure these days, my bike ride home, a pigeon craps square on my forehead as I cross the Welfare Island Bridge.
That's gratuitous.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Sharpton & Hitchens
Date: May 16, 2007 for May 17th
Time: 22:00
Place: Swankadero of the Future
Sharpton made a funny yesterday( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lGi0SS4w6I&NR=1) while debating Chris Hitchens of "God Is Not Great" fame over the place of faith or somesuch crap. Anyway, Hitchens brought up that Mormons (religion of GOP candidate and fan of "Battlefield Earth" Mitt Romney) officially considered black people subhuman until about 1965. In the clip above, Sharpton says words to the effect of "as to the candidate being a Mormon, people who really believe in God will defeat him". The implication is that Mormons don't really believe in God, which is actually a widely held view among many Christians. Smith's revelations are heretical in the eyes of most Christian sects.
Anyway, this is pretty funny. After Sharpton's braying over the Imus affair, the next 3 weeks of O'Reilly, Hannity, and Glenn Beck are going to pretty much write themselves. To me though, the one truly interesting point is this odd couple of Hitchens and Sharpton. Each has lost almost all credibility for insisting on supporting particular causes centered on persons now known to be either extraordinarily deluded or dishonest. They carry the respective albatrosses of Wolfowitz and Brawley.
Time: 22:00
Place: Swankadero of the Future
Sharpton made a funny yesterday( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lGi0SS4w6I&NR=1) while debating Chris Hitchens of "God Is Not Great" fame over the place of faith or somesuch crap. Anyway, Hitchens brought up that Mormons (religion of GOP candidate and fan of "Battlefield Earth" Mitt Romney) officially considered black people subhuman until about 1965. In the clip above, Sharpton says words to the effect of "as to the candidate being a Mormon, people who really believe in God will defeat him". The implication is that Mormons don't really believe in God, which is actually a widely held view among many Christians. Smith's revelations are heretical in the eyes of most Christian sects.
Anyway, this is pretty funny. After Sharpton's braying over the Imus affair, the next 3 weeks of O'Reilly, Hannity, and Glenn Beck are going to pretty much write themselves. To me though, the one truly interesting point is this odd couple of Hitchens and Sharpton. Each has lost almost all credibility for insisting on supporting particular causes centered on persons now known to be either extraordinarily deluded or dishonest. They carry the respective albatrosses of Wolfowitz and Brawley.
Sometimes rain means steady rain
Date: May 16, 2007
Time: 21:43
Place: The Dry-odero
Careful readers of this blog may have caught my post a few days ago in which I rhapsodically described the ability to bicycle 2 flat miles to work on these lovely spring days. True indeed for the most part, but add steady rain into the equation, and the prospects become unpleasing indeed.
Nothing has happened to me recently that would suggest that I was on a "good luck" streak, so why I chose to ride to work this morning fully aware of forecasted "PM showers" is mysterious even to me. Perhaps I suspected they meant intermittent showers but couldn't fit it in the little box with the sun, cloud, and rain drops. It was also a most clement morning, the type which one believes would preclude such an egregiously hideous turn.
I left the buiding around 7:20 PM and it was pouring steadily. I got the bike into the subway, road to Rockefeller Center, transferred, and got to Roosevelt Island, for such is the nexus of the V and F trains. The two mile trip is a 5 mile subway ride. Because of all the construction on Roosevelt Island, the roads are all very badly crowned, so the few hundred feet I road north of the subway to the covered sidewalks was enough to thoroughly drench my pants as I road through one deep puddle after another. Note to self: the middle of the road is the highest point.
Time: 21:43
Place: The Dry-odero
Careful readers of this blog may have caught my post a few days ago in which I rhapsodically described the ability to bicycle 2 flat miles to work on these lovely spring days. True indeed for the most part, but add steady rain into the equation, and the prospects become unpleasing indeed.
Nothing has happened to me recently that would suggest that I was on a "good luck" streak, so why I chose to ride to work this morning fully aware of forecasted "PM showers" is mysterious even to me. Perhaps I suspected they meant intermittent showers but couldn't fit it in the little box with the sun, cloud, and rain drops. It was also a most clement morning, the type which one believes would preclude such an egregiously hideous turn.
I left the buiding around 7:20 PM and it was pouring steadily. I got the bike into the subway, road to Rockefeller Center, transferred, and got to Roosevelt Island, for such is the nexus of the V and F trains. The two mile trip is a 5 mile subway ride. Because of all the construction on Roosevelt Island, the roads are all very badly crowned, so the few hundred feet I road north of the subway to the covered sidewalks was enough to thoroughly drench my pants as I road through one deep puddle after another. Note to self: the middle of the road is the highest point.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
I guess the rapture's here
Date: May 15, 2007
Time: 15:00
Place: The RI 'dero
Yep, whoop it up all you gays, secularists, and other causes of G*d's wrath the world over. Just call him Jerry "Farewell". It must have been a pretty narrow rapture, since I was driving around this afternoon and discerned no effects of suddenly vacated driver's seats. Maybe it's just that there is nobody worth saving in New York. I've often thought that, particularly while driving around. All this talk of Armageddon does remind me of a great Wodehouse line where Bertie has a hangover and describes his aunt's loud voice as giving him the impression that "Armageddon had set in with unusual severity".
Anyway, I just returned from getting a P.E.T. scan to make sure there was no cancer elsewhere in the old corpus. P.E.T. stands for "Positronic Emission Tomography". Positrons are technically anti-matter, positively charged analogs of the electron, so if you see someone who looks like me with a goatee, look out. It's probably my evil twin from an alternate dimension. I don't know what Tomography is, maybe painting with tomatoes or the history of people named Tom. I don't see what is has to do with positrons, though.
Time: 15:00
Place: The RI 'dero
Yep, whoop it up all you gays, secularists, and other causes of G*d's wrath the world over. Just call him Jerry "Farewell". It must have been a pretty narrow rapture, since I was driving around this afternoon and discerned no effects of suddenly vacated driver's seats. Maybe it's just that there is nobody worth saving in New York. I've often thought that, particularly while driving around. All this talk of Armageddon does remind me of a great Wodehouse line where Bertie has a hangover and describes his aunt's loud voice as giving him the impression that "Armageddon had set in with unusual severity".
Anyway, I just returned from getting a P.E.T. scan to make sure there was no cancer elsewhere in the old corpus. P.E.T. stands for "Positronic Emission Tomography". Positrons are technically anti-matter, positively charged analogs of the electron, so if you see someone who looks like me with a goatee, look out. It's probably my evil twin from an alternate dimension. I don't know what Tomography is, maybe painting with tomatoes or the history of people named Tom. I don't see what is has to do with positrons, though.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Back in the Saddle Again
Date: May 14, 2007
Time: 22:00
Place: Top-o-the-40
I felt the old left shoulder was finally limber enough to steer the bike, so this Saturday I took a trial commute to the office. It's only two miles away through pretty flat territory, especially when one takes the elevator to the Welfare Island Bridge. These beautiful spring days are the best time of year to ride, warm enough to not need a jacket yet cool enough to not work up a sweat. This morning was my first real commute by bike since the shoulder surgery.
It is actually faster to get to work by bike than car, since by the time one negotiates the various parking structures and stop lights, any velocity advantage is lost. I'm on the bike as soon as I'm out the door of my apartment building, and I chain it up right next to the door of the office building. It takes less than 15 minutes door-to-desk, whereas driving takes a little over 20.
I also feel like I'm getting away with something, in addition to all the environmental and exercise benefits. The car is convenient, but the lot costs over 10 bucks. The bus is only 4 bucks, but they usually conspire to leave me standing around for at least a half an hour. As long as it doesn't rain, the bike is the way to go.
Time: 22:00
Place: Top-o-the-40
I felt the old left shoulder was finally limber enough to steer the bike, so this Saturday I took a trial commute to the office. It's only two miles away through pretty flat territory, especially when one takes the elevator to the Welfare Island Bridge. These beautiful spring days are the best time of year to ride, warm enough to not need a jacket yet cool enough to not work up a sweat. This morning was my first real commute by bike since the shoulder surgery.
It is actually faster to get to work by bike than car, since by the time one negotiates the various parking structures and stop lights, any velocity advantage is lost. I'm on the bike as soon as I'm out the door of my apartment building, and I chain it up right next to the door of the office building. It takes less than 15 minutes door-to-desk, whereas driving takes a little over 20.
I also feel like I'm getting away with something, in addition to all the environmental and exercise benefits. The car is convenient, but the lot costs over 10 bucks. The bus is only 4 bucks, but they usually conspire to leave me standing around for at least a half an hour. As long as it doesn't rain, the bike is the way to go.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Sean O'Hair sliding uphill
Date: May 13, 2007
Time: 21:45
Place: The RI 'dero
I was watching the Players Championship today which Phil Mickelsen won. He made it interesting on the very last hole by nearly putting his second shot in the lake, but I think he was losing interest in the game due to the incredibly slow play of his partner, Sean O'Hair. O'Hair could not hit a putt in any less than 5 minutes. One could argue that it was working for him since he was in second place but that evaporated when he put two shots in the lake at 17 on his way to a quadruple bogey. After chowdering the last two holes, he slipped to like 11th or 12th.
I can make a quadruple bogey. I also bogeyed Bethpage Black #1 within a month of Tigers Woods bogeying it.
You hate to be overly critical of the young man, but there is nobody more despised on the course than slow players. If you're going to choke , do it fast. NBC took the unusual step if reserving time until 7 PM, probably figuring they'd have plenty of time to chat with the winners. Instead, they ran a little late as O'Hair had to over-analyze every putt on a course he had played the previous 4 days. Perhaps that quadruple bogey was the golf gods' way of saying "TODAY, damn it".
Time: 21:45
Place: The RI 'dero
I was watching the Players Championship today which Phil Mickelsen won. He made it interesting on the very last hole by nearly putting his second shot in the lake, but I think he was losing interest in the game due to the incredibly slow play of his partner, Sean O'Hair. O'Hair could not hit a putt in any less than 5 minutes. One could argue that it was working for him since he was in second place but that evaporated when he put two shots in the lake at 17 on his way to a quadruple bogey. After chowdering the last two holes, he slipped to like 11th or 12th.
I can make a quadruple bogey. I also bogeyed Bethpage Black #1 within a month of Tigers Woods bogeying it.
You hate to be overly critical of the young man, but there is nobody more despised on the course than slow players. If you're going to choke , do it fast. NBC took the unusual step if reserving time until 7 PM, probably figuring they'd have plenty of time to chat with the winners. Instead, they ran a little late as O'Hair had to over-analyze every putt on a course he had played the previous 4 days. Perhaps that quadruple bogey was the golf gods' way of saying "TODAY, damn it".
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Fecal matter sliding uphill
Date: May 12, 2007
Time: 21:25
Place: The Roosevelt Island Swankadero
A childhood friend's father used to use a version of this metaphor to describe the speed of people who ran slowly. I ran around Roosevelt Island today, which I've heard is 3.9 miles, in about 37-38 minutes. This isn't bad since this is the first time I've done it this year, but it is by no means fast. I don't pass many other runners but many of them pass me. They're all shorter than me too so I got to work on my stride. I feel like I'm wasting my height.
I've also heard the Roosevelt Island promenade was 3.5 miles but I don't think that's correct. That might not include the Goldwater Hospital grounds south of the Queensboro Bridge. Lots of low trees and people in wheelchairs and gurneys. It's a very tough stretch to sprint. You also feel kind of bad running around so many people in wheelchairs. It seems to be in poor taste, as if one is flaunting one's ambulatoriness.
By the way, you may note I said the Queensboro Bridge, not the 59th Street Bridge. It's the Brooklyn Bridge, not the Pearl St Bridge. It's the Manhattan Bridge, not the Canal St Bridge. It's the Williamsburg Bridge, not the Delancey Street Bridge.
It's the Queensboro Bridge, and Paul Simon damn well knew it. "Feelin' Groovy" my ass.
Time: 21:25
Place: The Roosevelt Island Swankadero
A childhood friend's father used to use a version of this metaphor to describe the speed of people who ran slowly. I ran around Roosevelt Island today, which I've heard is 3.9 miles, in about 37-38 minutes. This isn't bad since this is the first time I've done it this year, but it is by no means fast. I don't pass many other runners but many of them pass me. They're all shorter than me too so I got to work on my stride. I feel like I'm wasting my height.
I've also heard the Roosevelt Island promenade was 3.5 miles but I don't think that's correct. That might not include the Goldwater Hospital grounds south of the Queensboro Bridge. Lots of low trees and people in wheelchairs and gurneys. It's a very tough stretch to sprint. You also feel kind of bad running around so many people in wheelchairs. It seems to be in poor taste, as if one is flaunting one's ambulatoriness.
By the way, you may note I said the Queensboro Bridge, not the 59th Street Bridge. It's the Brooklyn Bridge, not the Pearl St Bridge. It's the Manhattan Bridge, not the Canal St Bridge. It's the Williamsburg Bridge, not the Delancey Street Bridge.
It's the Queensboro Bridge, and Paul Simon damn well knew it. "Feelin' Groovy" my ass.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Dancing about architecture
Date: May 11, 2007
Time: 22:00
Place: Fernwood 2-night
Steven Colbert used this line as a preface to his interview with Jann Wenner on the 40th anniversary of the magazine "Rolling Stone". The quote "Writing (or talking) about music is like dancing about architecture". It's variously attributed to many people, the predominant suspects being Elvis Costello, Steve Martin, Frank Zappa, and Martin Mull.
My money is on Martin Mull. I own albums by all the contenders (several by Elvis and Frank) but that quote sounds to me like Martin Mull, of whose books I have owned two, "The History of White People in America", and the successor, "A Paler Shade of White" (if you're not laughing hysterically at this point, google (and I'm not making this up) "Procul Harem".
Martin Mull's 1978 epic "I'm EveryoneI've Ever Loved" is one of the great albums ever. Mull and Steve Martin were a team for awhile, writing for the Smothers Brothers. The song "Men" is from that collaboration. Martin used to have the rep as an edge comic, he kind of lost it due to exposure, but when you look at it, he's still there with something different. Like when in Roseanne, he plays a gay guy without the kind of "Will and Grace" trumpeting. Also, check out the Aristocrats.
Time: 22:00
Place: Fernwood 2-night
Steven Colbert used this line as a preface to his interview with Jann Wenner on the 40th anniversary of the magazine "Rolling Stone". The quote "Writing (or talking) about music is like dancing about architecture". It's variously attributed to many people, the predominant suspects being Elvis Costello, Steve Martin, Frank Zappa, and Martin Mull.
My money is on Martin Mull. I own albums by all the contenders (several by Elvis and Frank) but that quote sounds to me like Martin Mull, of whose books I have owned two, "The History of White People in America", and the successor, "A Paler Shade of White" (if you're not laughing hysterically at this point, google (and I'm not making this up) "Procul Harem".
Martin Mull's 1978 epic "I'm EveryoneI've Ever Loved" is one of the great albums ever. Mull and Steve Martin were a team for awhile, writing for the Smothers Brothers. The song "Men" is from that collaboration. Martin used to have the rep as an edge comic, he kind of lost it due to exposure, but when you look at it, he's still there with something different. Like when in Roseanne, he plays a gay guy without the kind of "Will and Grace" trumpeting. Also, check out the Aristocrats.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
The Left stages a comeback
Date: May 10, 2007
Time: 22:38
Place: The Welfare Island Swankadero
I made really remarkable progress with my shoulder today. After beating the crap out of myself on the Stairmaster (106 floors in 22 minutes, no hands) and then my right shoulder with 7 sets of (10 curls + 10 front raises + 10 military press) at the effeminate weight of 10 lbs., I was able to stand perpendicular to a wall and hold my left hand flat against it.
Originally, I thought it was going spectacularly well but then I realized I was using my right shoulder, which though tired was not surgically repaired. When I switched arms though, I was finally able to flatten my palm on the wall with my arm outstretched.
My goal is to play the Flushing Meadow pitch & putt in July. There's that one 80 yard monster around the 9th whole, over by the lake that smells like it has a very high urine content. Maybe I'll carry a pitching wedge in addition to the sand wedge for the added pop. I'd hate to have to lay up.
Life can be pretty humiliating these days. I'm lifting 10 lb dumbbells in public like Richard Freakin' Simmons and the 2003 long drive champ of the Yer Man's Irish Pub Golf Outing (i.e. me and I would have taken 2006 too but I pulled the drive slightly off the fairway) is worried about the 80-yarder at the pitch & putt.
Time: 22:38
Place: The Welfare Island Swankadero
I made really remarkable progress with my shoulder today. After beating the crap out of myself on the Stairmaster (106 floors in 22 minutes, no hands) and then my right shoulder with 7 sets of (10 curls + 10 front raises + 10 military press) at the effeminate weight of 10 lbs., I was able to stand perpendicular to a wall and hold my left hand flat against it.
Originally, I thought it was going spectacularly well but then I realized I was using my right shoulder, which though tired was not surgically repaired. When I switched arms though, I was finally able to flatten my palm on the wall with my arm outstretched.
My goal is to play the Flushing Meadow pitch & putt in July. There's that one 80 yard monster around the 9th whole, over by the lake that smells like it has a very high urine content. Maybe I'll carry a pitching wedge in addition to the sand wedge for the added pop. I'd hate to have to lay up.
Life can be pretty humiliating these days. I'm lifting 10 lb dumbbells in public like Richard Freakin' Simmons and the 2003 long drive champ of the Yer Man's Irish Pub Golf Outing (i.e. me and I would have taken 2006 too but I pulled the drive slightly off the fairway) is worried about the 80-yarder at the pitch & putt.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
My Boss Tom and why MGMT404 is so important
Date: May 9, 2007
Time: 21:32
Place: Swankadero 10044
I've often described myself as computer Amish, by which I mean I'm a mainframe programmer using skills I picked up at the You-Too-Can-Be-A-Computer-Programmer school back in 1982. The IEEE will confirm that it's not just my little corner of Citibank, but 95% of financial industry DP is "still" done on the mainframe. There's many reasons for this but it boils down to the fear of replacing or tampering with an audit-certified system when there are so many other less dangerous ways to build a career in these giant organizations. It was best summarized by George Kramer, a chain-smoking, privates(his own)-scratching, peri-retiree when I joined the bank. Talking to my current boss Tom about career advice, he said "Never f*ck with the financials".
Tom is retiring at the end of this month. He and I joined the bank on the same day, June 3, 1983. He came out of the government and took the "more demanding" job to distract himself from a fatal cancer diagnosis he had been given, which he has long since beat beyond the charts. It was my first job after the "You Too" school. After about 6 months we were hanging around laughing about how our perceptions about "the land of the giants" had turned to "where did they dig these people up"?
Tom built a career being one of the few people competent to "f*ck with the financials" though his respect for George Kramer continues unabated. He has always kept those who worked for him somewhat shielded from the usual goings-on in our organization which is something like the upper-middle rungs of Dante's inferno set to "Yakkety Sax", since as one of the few people capable of discerning bullshit, other managers avoided him. We'll miss him.
That's why MGMT404 is so important. If you can work MS Project, you can have a well-paid sinecure as an ignoramus who manages lists and commitments. That's where the industry is headed.
Time: 21:32
Place: Swankadero 10044
I've often described myself as computer Amish, by which I mean I'm a mainframe programmer using skills I picked up at the You-Too-Can-Be-A-Computer-Programmer school back in 1982. The IEEE will confirm that it's not just my little corner of Citibank, but 95% of financial industry DP is "still" done on the mainframe. There's many reasons for this but it boils down to the fear of replacing or tampering with an audit-certified system when there are so many other less dangerous ways to build a career in these giant organizations. It was best summarized by George Kramer, a chain-smoking, privates(his own)-scratching, peri-retiree when I joined the bank. Talking to my current boss Tom about career advice, he said "Never f*ck with the financials".
Tom is retiring at the end of this month. He and I joined the bank on the same day, June 3, 1983. He came out of the government and took the "more demanding" job to distract himself from a fatal cancer diagnosis he had been given, which he has long since beat beyond the charts. It was my first job after the "You Too" school. After about 6 months we were hanging around laughing about how our perceptions about "the land of the giants" had turned to "where did they dig these people up"?
Tom built a career being one of the few people competent to "f*ck with the financials" though his respect for George Kramer continues unabated. He has always kept those who worked for him somewhat shielded from the usual goings-on in our organization which is something like the upper-middle rungs of Dante's inferno set to "Yakkety Sax", since as one of the few people capable of discerning bullshit, other managers avoided him. We'll miss him.
That's why MGMT404 is so important. If you can work MS Project, you can have a well-paid sinecure as an ignoramus who manages lists and commitments. That's where the industry is headed.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
How did that get there
Date: May 8, 2007
Time: 23:50
Place: El Swankadero
I think it's the temple at Dome of the Rock where all the crusaders carved little crosses in one certain passageway. I went for a CT scan and MRI at a place over in Astoria today, and there were all kinds of strange marks and scratches in the MRI tube. Those tubes are pretty narrow but I still don't get the long black streaks on the "ceiling" so to speak. I have this image of someone clenching a Sharpie in their teeth in one of the most pointless "tagging" ventures imaginable.
Also, there was scotch tape on one part, and that never adds a professional touch to anything.
There was an episode of "House" where they put some 600 lb. dude in the MRI. That did not happen, either.
Anyway, I'm now the proud owner of a cd full of 3-dimensional glam shots of the inside of my jaw and salivary glands. Gotta go now. The phone's ringing and I think it's GQ.
Time: 23:50
Place: El Swankadero
I think it's the temple at Dome of the Rock where all the crusaders carved little crosses in one certain passageway. I went for a CT scan and MRI at a place over in Astoria today, and there were all kinds of strange marks and scratches in the MRI tube. Those tubes are pretty narrow but I still don't get the long black streaks on the "ceiling" so to speak. I have this image of someone clenching a Sharpie in their teeth in one of the most pointless "tagging" ventures imaginable.
Also, there was scotch tape on one part, and that never adds a professional touch to anything.
There was an episode of "House" where they put some 600 lb. dude in the MRI. That did not happen, either.
Anyway, I'm now the proud owner of a cd full of 3-dimensional glam shots of the inside of my jaw and salivary glands. Gotta go now. The phone's ringing and I think it's GQ.
Monday, May 7, 2007
DeVry Dissed
Date: May 07, 2007
Time: 21:34
Place: The R I
I have yet to see the call to arms emblazoned across e-College, but this slur against our fine institution from last night's "Family Guy" must not go unanswered. Please don't read too much into this, but at the moment I feel a little like a Rutger's Women's Basketball Team member.
This was in one of those random cutaway jokes the right-thinking (on this issue, normally they seem to be very garden variety heads-up-their-ass libertarians) "South Park" guys hate so much. There's no sense to try to fit it in with any of the "Family Guy" characters or the plot of the show. Anyway, one guy says "My son just got into DeVry" and the other guy says "Oh, yeah? What did he have to do? Open the door?"
Where's the outrage? Besides, it's not getting in to a given college that distinguishes it, it's what the students can take away. I do greeting cards also.
Actually, I like "Family Guy". Any comedy with a recurring child molester character, actually done very well in last night's episode in a "Skull and Bones" spoof, can't be all bad.
Time: 21:34
Place: The R I
I have yet to see the call to arms emblazoned across e-College, but this slur against our fine institution from last night's "Family Guy" must not go unanswered. Please don't read too much into this, but at the moment I feel a little like a Rutger's Women's Basketball Team member.
This was in one of those random cutaway jokes the right-thinking (on this issue, normally they seem to be very garden variety heads-up-their-ass libertarians) "South Park" guys hate so much. There's no sense to try to fit it in with any of the "Family Guy" characters or the plot of the show. Anyway, one guy says "My son just got into DeVry" and the other guy says "Oh, yeah? What did he have to do? Open the door?"
Where's the outrage? Besides, it's not getting in to a given college that distinguishes it, it's what the students can take away. I do greeting cards also.
Actually, I like "Family Guy". Any comedy with a recurring child molester character, actually done very well in last night's episode in a "Skull and Bones" spoof, can't be all bad.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
The Rocket Returns
Date: May 7th, 2007
Time: 22:14
Place: The Swankadero
It looks like Roger Clemens is attempting to illustrate the new paradigm of phased retirement. He saves himself the wear and tear of spring and comes out once all the prologue has been taken care of. At 45, he's been to that rodeo before. I'm sure he knows how to get himself in shape by this point. The big question is what the Yankees do with Pavano. I don't think they can trade him at this point, so they may have to eat all the zillions of dollars on their own.
Clemens may be the best superannuated pitcher , but he is not without precedent. Nolan Ryan was a dominant power pitcher well into his 40's. No one knew how old Satchel Paige was. He was rumored to be in his 50's. Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez is supposedly in his mid-40's as were the famed knuckle-ball brothers Joe and Phil Niekro.
Given the way Kayagawa and the Yankees bullpen pitched last Friday, I doubt my 45 year old arm could have fared any worse. My left shoulder is still frozen so I can't field well, but I have a feeling if they made contact the infield would not be an issue.
Time: 22:14
Place: The Swankadero
It looks like Roger Clemens is attempting to illustrate the new paradigm of phased retirement. He saves himself the wear and tear of spring and comes out once all the prologue has been taken care of. At 45, he's been to that rodeo before. I'm sure he knows how to get himself in shape by this point. The big question is what the Yankees do with Pavano. I don't think they can trade him at this point, so they may have to eat all the zillions of dollars on their own.
Clemens may be the best superannuated pitcher , but he is not without precedent. Nolan Ryan was a dominant power pitcher well into his 40's. No one knew how old Satchel Paige was. He was rumored to be in his 50's. Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez is supposedly in his mid-40's as were the famed knuckle-ball brothers Joe and Phil Niekro.
Given the way Kayagawa and the Yankees bullpen pitched last Friday, I doubt my 45 year old arm could have fared any worse. My left shoulder is still frozen so I can't field well, but I have a feeling if they made contact the infield would not be an issue.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Good riddance, worst week ever
Date: May 5, 2007
Time: 21:09
Place: Welfare Island Swankadero
There's only 3 hours left for something else really crappy to happen to me this week. There was the usual shoulder PT, and of course, the exercise ball I bought today had no pin with the pump to add to background hum of petty annoyances. The highlights were the wonderful dental surgery of Monday, the malignancy diagnosis of Wednesday, and I managed to lose my Flash drive at some point. Tuesday was the fourth anniversary of my mother's death. Cheer all around!
The one thing I find therapeutic is sleeping late in the morning. I have reasonably flexible work hours, and I live very close to work, so usually I can get away with sleeping until 8:30 or 9. That one extra hour is a magic tonic, but of course when I could use it most, no go. The Swankadero is a penthouse (as are most Swankadero's) and Roosevelt Island law is that escalators and elevators need to be out of service at least 60% of the time. On Wednesday and Thursday at 8 the repair crew showed up and engaged in some kind of ritual that involved dropping chains on the floor of the elevator shed (exorcising Jacob Marley?) which is right over my bedroom.
On Friday, something of great interest to the local news organs took place in either Astoria or the upper east side since there was a helicopter hovering over my apartment complex for about an hour starting a little after 7 AM. I can see every direction but north from my patio and I couldn't see the chopper while I wished ardently for a Stinger missile. My right shoulder is still good and had a citronella candle to wing at them if they got close enough.
Time: 21:09
Place: Welfare Island Swankadero
There's only 3 hours left for something else really crappy to happen to me this week. There was the usual shoulder PT, and of course, the exercise ball I bought today had no pin with the pump to add to background hum of petty annoyances. The highlights were the wonderful dental surgery of Monday, the malignancy diagnosis of Wednesday, and I managed to lose my Flash drive at some point. Tuesday was the fourth anniversary of my mother's death. Cheer all around!
The one thing I find therapeutic is sleeping late in the morning. I have reasonably flexible work hours, and I live very close to work, so usually I can get away with sleeping until 8:30 or 9. That one extra hour is a magic tonic, but of course when I could use it most, no go. The Swankadero is a penthouse (as are most Swankadero's) and Roosevelt Island law is that escalators and elevators need to be out of service at least 60% of the time. On Wednesday and Thursday at 8 the repair crew showed up and engaged in some kind of ritual that involved dropping chains on the floor of the elevator shed (exorcising Jacob Marley?) which is right over my bedroom.
On Friday, something of great interest to the local news organs took place in either Astoria or the upper east side since there was a helicopter hovering over my apartment complex for about an hour starting a little after 7 AM. I can see every direction but north from my patio and I couldn't see the chopper while I wished ardently for a Stinger missile. My right shoulder is still good and had a citronella candle to wing at them if they got close enough.
Friday Night's Post - Damn Yankees
Date: May 4, 2007 (backdated)
Time: 23:59
Place: Home from Yankee Stadium
My nephew called Friday afternoon with some tickets for the Yankee game. These were some spectacular seats. I think we were about 6 rows off the field and less than ten yards beyond the Yankee dugout. This was going to be a chance to see a good game up close.
It was not a good game. The final score was 15-11. The Yankees were up 8-6 in the 5th when ny nephew and I headed for the Stadium club to catch the end of the Rangers-Sabres playoff game. We kept glancing over at the Yankee game and as the Mariners pulled ahead 12-8. The inning lasted as long as half a hockey period and the overtime. The hockey game was exciting, the Rangers breaking a scoreless tie with less than three minutes left with a wrist shot the likes of which I haven't seen since Mike Bossy. The Sabres tied it with 7 seconds left (power play on a ticky tacky penalty) and won in overtime.
We went back to the seats. Normally with really good seats like this, I like to heckle the first base coach, whose only job during the game is to pat other men on the butt, like some kind of greeter at the Ramrod. The first base coach for the Mariners name was Goff, so I figured he'd heard the "Whats' your first name, Jack?" line several times so I let him slide. The Mariners pushed the limit by bringing in a pitcher named Putz. You can't come into a city with a big Jewish population and trot out a pitcher named Putz. I had to announce in a comical Yiddish accent, "Putz? What, did Schmuck pull a hamstring?"
Time: 23:59
Place: Home from Yankee Stadium
My nephew called Friday afternoon with some tickets for the Yankee game. These were some spectacular seats. I think we were about 6 rows off the field and less than ten yards beyond the Yankee dugout. This was going to be a chance to see a good game up close.
It was not a good game. The final score was 15-11. The Yankees were up 8-6 in the 5th when ny nephew and I headed for the Stadium club to catch the end of the Rangers-Sabres playoff game. We kept glancing over at the Yankee game and as the Mariners pulled ahead 12-8. The inning lasted as long as half a hockey period and the overtime. The hockey game was exciting, the Rangers breaking a scoreless tie with less than three minutes left with a wrist shot the likes of which I haven't seen since Mike Bossy. The Sabres tied it with 7 seconds left (power play on a ticky tacky penalty) and won in overtime.
We went back to the seats. Normally with really good seats like this, I like to heckle the first base coach, whose only job during the game is to pat other men on the butt, like some kind of greeter at the Ramrod. The first base coach for the Mariners name was Goff, so I figured he'd heard the "Whats' your first name, Jack?" line several times so I let him slide. The Mariners pushed the limit by bringing in a pitcher named Putz. You can't come into a city with a big Jewish population and trot out a pitcher named Putz. I had to announce in a comical Yiddish accent, "Putz? What, did Schmuck pull a hamstring?"
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Day 2 as a cancer patient vs UTBAL moobs
Date: May 3, 2007
Time: 23:59
Place: Still south of Coler
That's a Roosevelt Island joke. Coler Hospital on the north end of the island is a terminal care facility. Besides, it's just a crummy little mucoepidermoid carcinoma of the saliva gland which has a 90% cure rate. Even Derek Jeter makes errors, though.
Another problem on my mind is that because of the shoulder surgery, I have not been able to bench press anything in over four months for the first time in about 20 years. The problem, UTBAL moobs, or used-to-bench-a-lot man-boobs. It's like that old Hans and Franz bit, "I don't know whether to pummel him or to milk him". They're at least letting me do some isometrics now but all I have to do is hear a pop out of the shoulder and I stop.
Anyway, this mucoepidermoid carcinoma has me bugged. None of my direct family has had cancer. I don't smoke but a cigar every two years. I did start working with these big ass IBM dumb terminals of the 3270 class many years ago. They had these powerful CRT's that could cook a potato 15 feet behind you.
Time: 23:59
Place: Still south of Coler
That's a Roosevelt Island joke. Coler Hospital on the north end of the island is a terminal care facility. Besides, it's just a crummy little mucoepidermoid carcinoma of the saliva gland which has a 90% cure rate. Even Derek Jeter makes errors, though.
Another problem on my mind is that because of the shoulder surgery, I have not been able to bench press anything in over four months for the first time in about 20 years. The problem, UTBAL moobs, or used-to-bench-a-lot man-boobs. It's like that old Hans and Franz bit, "I don't know whether to pummel him or to milk him". They're at least letting me do some isometrics now but all I have to do is hear a pop out of the shoulder and I stop.
Anyway, this mucoepidermoid carcinoma has me bugged. None of my direct family has had cancer. I don't smoke but a cigar every two years. I did start working with these big ass IBM dumb terminals of the 3270 class many years ago. They had these powerful CRT's that could cook a potato 15 feet behind you.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Getting my money's worth out of Aetna
Date: May 2, 2007
Time: 22:00
Place: Roosevelt Island Swankadero
Prior to this year I pretty much lost out on healh insurance. I rarely went to the doctor and there was not much wrong with me. This year started with the major rotator cuff surgery, and the result of last Monday's fishing expedition in my mouth yielded a "malignancy" though not a really bad one. This is starting to suck pretty convincingly.
It may just be instant karma. If this image uploaded, you'll see maybe Charlie Rodrigues just wasn't so damn funny afterall. Ok, well the image didn't upload, but it's this guy sitting in a doctor's office with his face all stitched up and half his jaw cut away. The doctor say "I realize it's not easy to whistle, Mr Chase, but give it time." I seemed to get this other Rodriguez cartoon to load though.
Time: 22:00
Place: Roosevelt Island Swankadero
Prior to this year I pretty much lost out on healh insurance. I rarely went to the doctor and there was not much wrong with me. This year started with the major rotator cuff surgery, and the result of last Monday's fishing expedition in my mouth yielded a "malignancy" though not a really bad one. This is starting to suck pretty convincingly.
It may just be instant karma. If this image uploaded, you'll see maybe Charlie Rodrigues just wasn't so damn funny afterall. Ok, well the image didn't upload, but it's this guy sitting in a doctor's office with his face all stitched up and half his jaw cut away. The doctor say "I realize it's not easy to whistle, Mr Chase, but give it time." I seemed to get this other Rodriguez cartoon to load though.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
the unthinkable
Date: May 1, 2003
Time: 21:18
Place: Beside myself with embarrassment
About 4 hours ago I became the punchline to a joke. Perhaps not as momentous a punchline to as hideous a joke as Bush's "Mission Accomplished" stunt 4 years ago, but a true "duh" moment. Being unable to eat much else, I figured I'd treat myself to some ice cream. I tried to buy some right after the surgery yesterday, but the cashier at the Gristede's (from hell, where food goes to expire) would not sell it to me because the freezer had broken earlier. Good thing they treat the regulars well, or I could be adding botulism to my list of complaints.
Anyway, I stopped in at a grocery store a tad further away which is a much cleaner enterprise with a higher turnover. I'm partial to Ben and Jerry's Phish Phood, but they didn't have any. I saw something reasonably interesting and instinctively grabbed the one behind it, because everyone knows the front one has been fondled in some disgusting manner and placed back there. It LOOKED like the same stuff, but no. When I got home, I discovered that I had bought Ben and Jerry Vanilla Ice Cream. I should rinse out the carton and put it next to the chunk of fence board that was white-washed by Jackson Pollack and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory nail clippers.
The vanilla beans are guarnteed not to be from any country getting ripped of by the IMF/Wolfowitz World Bank (no link to Eddie Clontz and the WWN, puhleez!) . Still, I feel even a bigger chump than usual. To extend Christopher Hitchens' contention that god is not great, he is also gratuitous.
Time: 21:18
Place: Beside myself with embarrassment
About 4 hours ago I became the punchline to a joke. Perhaps not as momentous a punchline to as hideous a joke as Bush's "Mission Accomplished" stunt 4 years ago, but a true "duh" moment. Being unable to eat much else, I figured I'd treat myself to some ice cream. I tried to buy some right after the surgery yesterday, but the cashier at the Gristede's (from hell, where food goes to expire) would not sell it to me because the freezer had broken earlier. Good thing they treat the regulars well, or I could be adding botulism to my list of complaints.
Anyway, I stopped in at a grocery store a tad further away which is a much cleaner enterprise with a higher turnover. I'm partial to Ben and Jerry's Phish Phood, but they didn't have any. I saw something reasonably interesting and instinctively grabbed the one behind it, because everyone knows the front one has been fondled in some disgusting manner and placed back there. It LOOKED like the same stuff, but no. When I got home, I discovered that I had bought Ben and Jerry Vanilla Ice Cream. I should rinse out the carton and put it next to the chunk of fence board that was white-washed by Jackson Pollack and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory nail clippers.
The vanilla beans are guarnteed not to be from any country getting ripped of by the IMF/Wolfowitz World Bank (no link to Eddie Clontz and the WWN, puhleez!) . Still, I feel even a bigger chump than usual. To extend Christopher Hitchens' contention that god is not great, he is also gratuitous.
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