Tuesday, December 21, 2010

My Problem with Gracie

I don't get along well with Gracie, our youngest dog. "She's eying me with contempt," I told my wife.

"Are you eying her with contempt?" she asked.

"Yeah, but I see the world through contempt-colored glasses."

Monday, December 20, 2010

That Hard-to-Find Gift

Today I received an e-mail offer to purchase a gift subscription to Ancestry.com, "the world's largest online family history resource."

Finally, a gift for the bastard in your life! Or the Mormon, I suppose.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Afternoon Delight?

"I've got something for you in the bedroom," she said.

Hmm, that sounds provocative.

Alas, after nearly 12 years of marriage, I should know better.

"They were selling these t-shirts at work so I got you one. They were only ten bucks."

No, the shirt did not say, "I thought I might get lucky but all I got was this lousy t-shirt."

Monday, December 13, 2010

Funniest Link Request Ever

I got this e-mail today:
I would like to submit our web site, http://www.criminaljusticedegree.com, for your review and inclusion in the resource section of your site,
"Hey, you know that page full of bastards on your blog? We want you to link to us there!"

Since my wife has a degree in criminal justice, I won't dare to guess why the sender thought that would be an appropriate place to promote their site.

Monday, December 06, 2010

The Ultimate Brush-Off?

I spent a weekend in Lost Hills, CA near the end of my cross-country bike trip in 2002. Actually, I was in what might be called "East Lost Hills," a collection of gas, food, and lodging establishments located at an interchange with Interstate 5. The "real" town of Lost Hills, populated almost entirely by Hispanic farm workers, is a couple miles further west.

I just finished reading "Meet the Billionaire Couple Who Took Over California's Water Supply," the only article I've ever seen that says anything about Lost Hills. Writer John Gibler describes what may be the ultimate brush-off:
Years earlier, while working on another investigation, I also called Roll International to request an interview. That time the receptionist told me straight: “We don’t give information to the public.” When I asked her to whom I should address my research questions she responded, “I suggest you don’t research us.” Then she hung up.
I guess privately held agribusiness corporations aren't keen on public relations!

Saturday, December 04, 2010

I Knew It!!!

Lead story in The Onion this week:

Universe Admits To Wronging

Area Man His Entire Life

'Dave's Got A Right To Be Angry,' Says Cosmos

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

The Magic Window

A friend invited me to meet him at a concert tonight. I was thinking about going, but then something came up here at home during what I call the magic window: that short period of time when one decides whether or not to do something.

Tonight the magic window lasted from 8:20 to 8:40 PM. I got home at 8:20, and there was a cooler full of Omaha Steaks at the door. I had to rearrange the entire freezer to make room for it all. Reorganizing the freezer reminded me that the refrigerator contained several bottles of expired milk. As I was pouring the old milk in the toilet, I remembered that I had been meaning to combine two partial bottles of my wife's shampoo in my never-ending battle against clutter. As I tossed the empty plastic milk and shampoo bottles into the recycling bin, I remembered that a local restaurant has a food drive box. So I started looking at my boxes of cereal and discovered that half of them were expired (no surprise considering all the milk I haven't been using lately). I threw away the cereal and saved the cardboard boxes for recycling. By then it was 8:47. The magic window was closed.

Although in theory I could still go -- the cover is only $5 and the band is playing two sets -- once the magic window closes, it just isn't going to happen. And yes, I know the previous paragraph describes one of the lamest justifications for blowing off a concert ever. And no, my friend doesn't read my blog. I intend to tell him "something came up" without confessing the pathetic details.