Rantings of Tad Annoyed

AT&T: Cruel and Heartless

2007-10-26T21:44:00.000-07:00

This Sunrise Brought to You By...

2007-10-22T07:48:00.000-07:00

...an arsonist.

Sunrise over the I405 in Orange County California, through the smoke from the Santiago Fire, which at this point has burned over 4400 acres in 14 hours. Authorities had just revealed that they believe that the fire was deliberately set.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!

2007-09-19T08:36:00.000-07:00

'Tis the day, me hearties!

http://www.talklikeapirate.com/piratehome.html

"I Like Turtles"

2007-06-30T22:47:00.001-07:00

-- Jonathan the Zombie

Edit 7/2/07: Should have provided more context:

Talk about angry misguided lawsuits.

2007-05-25T09:09:00.000-07:00

The tragedy: Josh Hancock, the late St. Louis Cardinals pitcher, was killed a couple of weeks ago when he went to a restaraunt, got drunk, got in his car, and drove down the highway while talking on his cell phone, and hit a tow truck that was parked while helping a motorist with a disabled vehicle.

Worse tragedy: Hancock's father, Dean Hancock, is suing for unspecified damages. Why? Because the accident clearly wasn't the younger Hancock's fault. He was forced into this situation. Obviously. This is what the father is conteding. For this reason he is suing the restaurant owner, who was not there that night, and the restaurant manager, who was there when he was being overserved.

Further, he is suing the towing company whose truck he hit, presumably for being so foolish as to answer a call from a driver stuck on the highway late at night. Also, he is suing the tow truck driver, presumably for parking the truck while assisting the motorist. Oh, and he's also suing the motorist for being negligent enough as to let his vehicle break down on the highway in the middle of the night. Everybody knows that they are responsible for keeping their vehicles in top running condition so as to accomodate the drunk drivers that might swerve out of control and hit them.

Why should Hancock's father stand to gain from this? Hancock was an adult making a grown-up decision. I should have as much right to sue for this as he does.

Why should he limit his list of defendants? Why not include the beverage maker? He didn't get drunk on water. How about the other motorists vehicle manufcturer? If they made better automobiles, then they wouldn't break down on the side of the road, and drunks would have one less target to hit. Why not the cell phone manufacturer? Cell phones are know to be quite distracting to drivers, drunk or otherwise.

But hold on. What if - and this is a big if - the accident was totally Hancock's fault? What if HE was to blame for overordering? After all, to be overserved, one must overorder in a restaurant. It wasn't a party, it was an establishment where you have to ask for a drink, and pay for it. You can't overserver someone refusing another drink.

Oh, and what if the tow truck had a way to clearly indicate that it was there, so it could be seen at night on the side of the road - say some sort of light bar on top. That would send a clear signal to other motorists not to, say, plow into it.

And what if the driver of the disabled vehicle could not predict when his engine, consisting of hundreds of moving parts, operating at high temperatures for long periods of time, would spontaneously fail. Of course, this is all conjecture. All of these factors were clearly a conspiracy to infringe on the right of Mr. Hancock to drive a deadly weapon while under the influence.
If I was a defendant, (and this is the cool part about being a blogger), I would countersue the father. On what grounds? Not teaching his child the difference between right and wrong. Josh Hancock did something wrong, deadly wrong. The fortunate part of this entire tragedy is that he did not kill or hurt anybody other than himself.

He screwed up. His family is grieving. That is bad and can't be undone. But blaming everyone other than he who had ultimate responsibility is an outright sin. Shame on the lawyer Keith Kantack bringing this suit.

PS - If drinking and driving is against the law, why do bars have parking lots? Just wondering.

And Another Thing...

2007-04-17T11:30:00.000-07:00

Many pundits have asked the same question that I will echo here.

(One example that I enjoyed very much: Mark Steyn: Where Imus learned to talk like that)

While Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton were quick to come out and accuse the Duke lacrosse players as being rapists, were they equally as quick to come out with apologies when it was announced that the allegations were pure fabrication?

And since when does a group of young women who have just participated in the NCAA Women's Basketball Title game - not an easy accomplishment - need someone to defend them from a jackass issuing flippant comments? Who ASKED Jesse and Al to step forward? THAT is demeaning to these ladies, if you ask me. Kinda keeps 'em down, they're just girls, don't you know.

And one last thing - the fact that they met with Imus, talked to him, and FORGAVE him... that's class and grace all the way. Methinks that they should intercede on Al and Jesse's behalf from now on.

Watch What You Say

2007-04-12T22:19:00.000-07:00

Here I go again with some pointless rambling...

Freedom of Speech. It's something that we have here in America, but not everyone who has this right realizes that with this freedom comes responsibility. A responsibility to not say things that can cause damage. As I tell my munchkins, Thing 1 and Thing 2, calling names is just like hitting, only with words.

Case in point. The North Carolina stripper, who with mere words accused some Duke University Lacrosse players of raping her. She did this a year ago, and a zealous District Attorney went after the accused as if they were guilty, which good zealous DA's ought to. But there was no truth behind her words, and the lives of these innocent young men have been an effective hell for the last year. Not to mention the coach that was fired, the program that was suspended, the jobs that were lost, and the lives that were otherwise impacted by the allegations and subsequent witch hunt. All over what she had to say. And the last I heard, there were to be no charges filed against her, when it was she that caused the most amount of hurt and emotional trauma. It turns out that she raped them in the end.

Another case in point. Don Imus. I see that he got fired today over referring to members of the Rutgers University Womens Basketball team by some rather degrading terms. One of the players commented in the media that they have been scarred for life. Don Imus was fired today, apparently after it CBS figured out that it would not be able to attract enough sponsors for his radio show.

Should Imus have been fired? Yes. Freedom of Speech does not grant him the ability to do what he did any more than the Freedom to Bear Arms grants him the ability to sit in a hotel window with a sniper rifle and shoot people. He needs to be held accountable, and I am glad that he was. A 2-week suspension would have only been temporary, but quickly forgotten. His action should not be forgotten. I'm just disappointed that it was because of money. I am quite certain that if this issue could have blown over quickly, he'd be right back in the saddle, driving the cash dump truck for CBS.

But part of me also thinks that his use of these derogatory terms should just be ignored. Why? Because they're not true. They only hurt someone if they CHOOSE to be hurt. Consider Rush Limbaugh or Howard Stern. When someone talks like such an ass, people tend to ignore them because they see them for what they are. So when Imus throws out some racially and gender insensitive comments, it merely identifies him as a jackass who says stupid stuff that just isn't true.

As far as the girls on the team are concerned, I feel for them, and I can only imagine what I would feel if I were in their place. Fortunately I'm not. But if I was informed that Don Imus had just insulted me on national TV and radio, my response would have been "Who?" And why would I choose to give that jackass the power to make me feel less of a human than I am. They are not what Don Imus says they are, even if he called the Rhodes Scholar Astronauts. These girls are among the best female basketball players in the nation, and probably world.

The point is that Imus' words did not have to hurt anyone in the same way the alleged rape victim's words did. So when he does confront them, he should apologize if they chose to take offense, and point out to them that he is indeed an ass, and they should not let his words control their lives.

[ tangent ]

And while I'm ranting, I also think that there is an incredible double standard going on when Don Imus gets fired for saying something that many rap artists say in their explicit lyrics. Why is it OK for a black man to call a black woman a whore, but not for a white man to do so. This is extremely racist. I do not favor anyone calling anyone a whore, unless she factually is one. If we are not to be racist, then it should be equally NOT OK for any man - white or black - to call any woman a whore. I'm just saying.

Edit 4/13: Looks like they're ahead of me, again: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/imus_rap

[ /tangent ]

Ah well. Probably the best thing that could have happened for Michael Richards.

PS Not sure why I'm including this, but I was happy to learn today the NFL instituted a 5 yard penalty for any player who spikes or throws the ball after a play, if it is not a touchdown. C'mon, if they worked in an office, they wouldn't dance after finishing their TPS reports. It's their job to run and catch the damned ball. They're not landing on the moon. No class at all.

Dell Sucks and Other Thoughts

2007-02-27T09:14:00.000-08:00

Random things that strike me while reading the news, or while getting dicked around by Dell customer-no-support...

You Get What You Pay For...

The Disney Corporation, the largest employer in the City of Anaheim, is suing the city over the city's intent to allow the construction of low-income housing near the Disneyland resort area.

OC Register Article

Seems kind of ironic that the company would spend all that money on lawyers to bite the hand that feeds them. Hey Disney, here's an idea. Take that money and pay your employees more, so that they are no longer considered "low income". Then maybe they can afford to live in the same county where they work.

Look What I Found!

It seems that movie producer James Cameron has discovered the tomb of Jesus and his family.

Apparently he stumbled upon it while searching for a big fucking pot of money, and lo and behold, there was a hole in a rock with a hand written sign reading "Here lies Jesus and Mary Magdalene and Family". Imagine the luck.

Dell Sucks

The power supply on my 2-year-old Dell crapped out 3 months to the day after it happened to an identical one I bought at the same time for a relative. I ordered a new one and paid for next-day shipping, which ironically does not mean that it will be shipped out the next day, but means that it will be delivered to me in one day after it ships, which could take up to a week. A week later, I contact customer-no-support to find out its whereabouts, and I learn that the order had been cancelled without them so much as notifying me. Apparently the valid credit card did not get authorized, which is something that should have occurred while I was on the phone with Bert, who took my order.

When I asked Bert to read me the description of the unit, he complained that he only know what the computer tells him. I knew that this would be a bad sign. It turns out that Bert is a turkey, not an eagle.

I had to hang up and call the sales department (apparently they lack the technology to transfer calls in India) to reorder the required part, this time ensuring that everything was in order before letting them get off the phone. They were not willing to help make up for my week of down time by giving me next-day delivery. Dell sucks.

This Just In

2007-02-20T08:17:00.000-08:00

The father of Anna Nicole's baby?

Britney's hair.

You may all now get on with your lives.

What is that in the heck?

2007-01-28T21:58:00.000-08:00

Hope you had a nice weekend. No, really.

Here behind the Orange Curtain this weekend, temperatures were mildly cool, ~62 degrees, under a series of passing clouds. One or two of these clouds actually dropped a wee spittle of rain drops. Nothing that would drive me indoors from playing some ball with Thing1 and Thing2.

So imagine my surprise when I turn on the local EyeWitless Evening News Weekend Edition, that all of their newsreporting technological resources were devoted to "STORM WATCH 7000". Huh? A few drops? Storm Watch? And I think my job got slow from time to time. As my recently turned 4-year-old Thing 2 would ask, well, see the title of this post.

Apparently viewers living in the far north of the broadcast region had a slight sprinkle or two as well, enough to count for a passing shower. And since we're well behind average in rainfall so far this year (1" vs a regular 6"), some roads got a bit slippery.

So they have the obligatory Southern Californian, who is always from somewhere else originally, declare to a live reporter "People here just don't know how to drive in the rain!"

First off, as an aside, as I've gotten older I've come to realize that I am in a very small minority of people who live in the greater Los Angeles area (and yes, Orange County IS in the greater Los Angeles area) that were actually born here and have lived here all of my life.

Every time a couple of clouds get together and precipitate a drop or two, there's always some moron on the TV news declaring that these people out here just don't know how to drive in these conditions.

Attention Mr. Driving Critic: Instead of telling us how badly we drive in the rain, why don't you a) let us in on exactly HOW to drive, b) shut the fuck up, and c) move back to whereever your kind know how to operate a motor vehicle in less than optimal climatologic conditions.

Really, how does one drive in the rain? People here, who rely on their cars more than their oxygen, drive slower - much, much slower. Does Mr. Safer-Than-Thou advocate driving faster, at a normal pace, as if the rain were not slickening the road? Or even slower still, backwards almost. Please enlighten me. Because the idiots on the TV news don't give two shits about raising the awareness of their moronic viewer base (that's me in there too!), they just want their ratings to remain high by scaring the living shit out of you with every possible threat to your happiness and sense of well-being.

That's about all I've got to say about that. Feh.

Tad Annoyed Fails to Land on the Moon Today

2007-01-10T15:59:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I posted. Nothing much seems to be annoying ol' Tad these days. And any of the stuff that occurs to me usually happens during my commmute and evaporates from my miniscule psyche by the time I gets me to my computer. So a couple of random thoughts on current events, just to loosen the joints...

Yesterday Apple Computer announced their new I-Phone. At least that's what they were hoping to call it. They were in last-minute talks with Cisco Systems, whose Linksys unit apparently already has a product called I-Phone. No agreement was reached before Steve Jobs announced Apple's I-Phone, so now Cisco is suing Apple for trying to use the name without permission.

Bad move in my opinion. Just think of all the sales Cisco will miss out on by mistaken consumers. Perhaps in exchange, Cisco can get permission to call their latest routers "IPods".

Switching gears, yesterday the Baseball Writers of America announced the results of their Hall of Fame balloting. The headline I read on my newspapers shamefullly read "McGwire Fails to Get Elected to Hall".

I have a number of problems with this headline. First, it unnecessarily bags on Mark McGwire. Was he actively pursuing election? Did he lobby or campaign? I don't know, but I would hate to be accused of failing to do something that I never set out to accomplish in the first place. The headline should rather state "Baseball Writers Fail to Elect McGwire" at the very least.

Even better - the headline should proclaim that Cal Ripken Jr. and Tony Gwynn were easily elected, and deservedly so. But there is no question, no controversy, no juicy story behind that.

I think that Mark McGwire has a place in baseball infamy. He did nothing to cheat, technically, as far as I am aware. The Andro he reportedly took was not against the rules when he played. So more power to him.

For players that took supplements after they were outlawed, too bad. Rafael Palmeiro continued, and got busted. Sammy Sosa retired, and is contemplating a comeback as I understand, a year after his system, er, mind is clear. And Barry Bonds... let's just say that his body does not recover from injuries as quickly, he is now on pace with the rest of us.

Should Barry get elected? Probably, in my view. Being a nice guy was never a criteria. I've never met Mark McGwire, but he always seemed media friendly (and was good on TV) when he played. Bonds is not. I've briefly come across Bonds once in person, and making a good impression or appearing affable was not one of his priorities.

My bottom line is that Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Pete Rose, and Joe Jackson each have contributed significantly to the game of baseball, and are pretty darn famous. They should be in the Hall of Fame.

But who the hell am I. Ah yes, just a casual blogger.

This Year, It's Merry Christmas

2006-11-20T15:22:00.000-08:00

Enough of this "Happy Holidays" political correctness bullshit.

This year, It's Merry Christmas. Yes, Christmas. December 25th. Not November 16th. Not the day after Thanksgiving. It's on December 25th. And while you're at it, have a splendid Christmas Eve.

You see, I want people to have a nice Christmas, even if that is not a holiday that they celebrate. They can still be merry. Why is this any different than wishing someone a happy June 3rd? or Cinco de Mayo? I'm not Mexican, but people have wished me the latter and I have not been offended. I can still enjoy that day without going to El Torito.

But what about Jewish people and those who celebrate Kwanzaa, or Ramadan? I hope they have a nice day, or week, or month - what ever duration they celebrate. If I know for a fact that you celebrate one of those special times, I hope it is very pleasant for you, and I won't hesitate to wish you a good one.

But I will wish everyone I know a Merry Christmas this year. If you choose to be offended, well, that is your choice. You need not be merry, jolly, or gleeful on December 25th. That's entirely up to you. If my wishing you to be merry somehow offends you, are you more offended at me, or more offended that you have given me the power to piss you off. Methinks it is the latter.

Oh, and if you are adamant about wishing people "Happy Holidays", please make sure not to wish anyone a Happy New Year, lest you may offend those who are Chinese, Vietnamese, Jewish, or anyone who does not celebrate their new year on the 1st day of January.

Merry Christmas.

Open Enrollment is coming...

2006-11-13T10:37:00.000-08:00

...And whatever you do, resist the urge to overcommit funds to, or participate at all in what your company touts as a "Flexible Spending Account". This is the account to which you can send some amount of your pre-tax income, and then get these funds reimbursed to you after you've spent the money on healthcare or dependent care expenses. This makes the money spent on these expenses not subject to federal and state taxation. That's the good part. The bad part is that you must decide before the start of the year how much money you want to divert into these accounts, before you actually know how much you'll be spending. The other burden this puts on you is that you have to fill out paperwork and provide substantiating documentation to your company or the outfit they've hired to administer this little scam. And any money that you don't claim by the end of the year goes back to your company, with a cut of it going to the administrating company, I presume.

Sounds like a good deal. Sure, your spending is flexible. It lowers your taxable income. What could go wrong?

Well, your company might hire an outfit like CONEXIS to adminster Flexible Spending Accounts. And this is how they administer these accounts.

First, they put up a non-intuitive website from which you must download the claim forms. Then, they take a fairly straightforward claim form and "update" it, so that it is no longer straightforward, has smaller fields in which to make entries, and has also dropped vital information like the FAX number to which it must be sent. And boy it would have been nice if they had made it a PDF with fillable forms. But that might be expecting too much.

The web site prompts you to ensure that your email address and your phone number are up to date before it lets you access the main menu page. Then, the form that you fill out requests (understandably) your phone number, your email address, and your mailing address.

Then you fill in the requested information, make copies of the supporting documents and receipts to substantiate your claim, and you fax it in to them. You can also mail it in, but that is too slow. You can submit it electronically, if you have a scanner and know how to use it. So I opt for faxing to get the instant gratification of submittal with minimal computer hassle time.

Then after a couple of days you check the website, reconfirm your contact information, and check the status of your claim, which has been rejected. No reason is provided, it's just rejected.

So you call up the customer service number. The menu presents you with all sorts of options, none of which involve talking to a human. But the last option finally gives you the wherewithal to connect to an operator.

So into the on-hold queue. Every 30 seconds or so a recorded message reminds you that you could have used the website and not bothered the humans. Please Note: attempting to argue with the recording that the website is confusing and does not tell you what problem they had with your rejected claim is pretty much futile.

Finally, a person answers. Fortunately, you should be able to understand the person's voice, as it appears that they have not yet outsourced their customer service to India.

The operator will then explain to you that she too does not know why the claim was rejected, apparently they do not write this sort of thing down. Perhaps you should re-submit it. She will also explain to you how she also does not know why, despite their numerous attempts to verify my contact information, that no attempt was made to contact me regarding my rejected claim using said information.

Here is where it is considered perfectly OK to fall out of your chair.

As you have guessed, the adventure above was endured by yours truly. The claim I submitted was for about 10 months of prescription medication copayments, which is a significant chunk of change to ol' Tad and his family. I had supplied all supporting documentation as required by law. I resubmitted the claim. I am waiting to find out the results of this next go-around.

Then it dawns on me. I read The Rainmaker by John Grisham. These people are not in business to make sure that I get my money to which I am entitled. Their livelihood depends on them NOT giving my money to me. Further, there appears to be no ombudsman or overseeing body to make sure that outfits like CONEXIS are audited to make sure that they are doing their job correctly and ethically.

But with open enrollment coming up for 2007, I'm pretty much staying away from this mail-in rebate SCAM, and I encourage you to beware, if not stay away altogether. The tax benefit sure is not worth this hassle, at least to me.

While They're At It...

2006-11-06T09:56:00.000-08:00

Hey, isn't there a way to extend the death sentence passed down to this guy...

...apply to this A-hole as well?

Just asking.

What Garbage

2006-10-30T11:47:00.000-08:00

So the garbage that I put out to the curb last Tuesday is still sittinge exactly where I left it almost one week ago. It's neatly contained within the city-supplied bins: black for garbage, green for recyclables, and brown for (ahem) green waste. Still haven't figured out the reasoning behind that one.

Why is it still sitting there? Did I put it out a day too late? No. The garbagemen in my neighborhood are on strike.

They're striking because they rejected their employer's (Taormina Industries)contract proposal that increases their pay by $3.55 an hour over 5 years. Which, on top of a $16.25 rate, represents a 22% hike. Sorry if I don't sound empathetic, but this is way more than ol' Tad and his coworkers have enjoyed since the year 2000.

The reason that one worker cited in the Orange County register is that “Everybody makes more than us... Why are we the ones who are discriminated against? Why can’t we make what everybody else makes?” Here he is comparing the pay from Taormina to the rates paid by the companies doing the trash hauling in nearby communities.

Here is my response to Mr. Striker:

YOU'RE A GARBAGEMAN. WHO PROMISED THAT YOU WOULD BECOME RICH HAULING REFUSE? So they pay better at the company down the street? Fantastic! Apply for a job there! This is a free country! In fact, you can even develop your skills so that you can get a better job, say, NOT HAULING TRASH!

It's not like you even have to get out of your truck anymore for Chrissakes! It's all automated! You just drive the truck, the arm reaches out, grabs the can, and chucks the contents into the sealed container behind you! You don't ever come in contact with the garbage. At least, not when it flies out of my can and somehow misses your truck, no, you leave that for me to pick up.

Your job responsibilities include:

- knowing the route to drive
- being able to discern between black, brown and green cans
- stopping next to the can of the desired color
- pressing a button.

Boy, when they come up with an automatic navigation system for those trucks, they'll be sure to replace you too!

"Oh, but Tad," you say, "you're being mean. They're just trying to eke out a living."

They're getting a 22% raise. They already knew they were being paid peanuts. Now they'll be getting a hefty chunk more! What do they want? An executive jet and an expense account?

The point is that it is their choice that they are garbagemen. It is their choice not to seek a job with a higher-paying competitor or in a new line of work altogether. It is their choice to involve me in their inability to make better choices for themselves by leaving my garbage on my curb.

Now since I've not received any communication from the county indicating that I'm getting any sort of refund on my property tax for the lack of service, I have one simple request:

Get back to work and PICK UP MY !@#$%^& GARBAGE!

Everything I Needed to Know About Using the Potty I Learned in Kindergarten

2006-10-05T10:38:00.000-07:00

Don't most people?

Apologies up front for such a banal rant, but when you're a grown up working in an office with other grown ups, I expect some basic courtesies of my officemates so that I don't get sick from their lack of hygiene. My first grader has better bathroom habits than some of the yuppity slobs in my cube farm.

I can't tell you how many jerks in my office fail to dispose of their bodily waste via the simple act of flushing the potty. I fail to understand what kind of health risk they think they're encountering by doing so. C'mon, fellas. You don't even have to use your hands. Flush the urinal with your elbow. Flush the crapper with your foot. You don't have to worry about catching diseases. You would, however, put everyone else's health at risk by leaving your waste there for everyone to see and experience.

Oh, and don't forget to wash your hands. Regardless if you flush or not. Use the soap - it's free. It is unfathomable how some people simply walk out of the bathroom without doing so. Many of those in my office that are guilty of this are in sales. Ewww. I feel sorry for our customers whose hands they shake. Kinda ruins it when there is free food in the employee kitchen. Double eww. I'll only partake if I'm sure that a non-washer has not been there first. And yes, we have a list of non-washers. They don't know it. But we know who they are. And we don't touch anything that they do.

I was going to take this a step further and complain about the new marketing people who somehow missed the part of employee orientation that covers the fact that while the coffee is complimentary, making a new pot when you take the last of an old pot is compulsory before noon. Must be that folks in marketing truly lack the technical skills required to operate a coffee maker. The water supply is connected directly, for crying out loud. All you have to do is dump the old grounds, insert a filter, and tear open a packet of pre-measured coffee grounds, pour it in, and press a button.

But I'm not complaining about this. I'm just glad that a non-washer is not touching my coffee.

Sympathy / No Sympathy

2006-09-27T10:51:00.000-07:00

Sympathy:

Today, I have sympathy for Buck O'Neil, the 94-year-old former Negro Leaguer hospitalized for exhaustion. You might recall the moving and charming address he gave this summer at the Baseball Hall of Fame induction ceremony that did not for some bizarre reason did not include inducting HIM. You can hear it here.

Get well soon, Buck.

No Sympathy:

Terrell Owens.

Irony.

2006-09-18T08:11:00.000-07:00

So the Muslims are upset with the Pope because he characterizes a religion bent on taking over the world using violence as being evil and inhuman. And to refute the comment, they set out to prove him wrong by throwing firebombs at some Catholic churches in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. Seems to me that sends out the clear message "Yep!"

According to the AP,

The Mujahedeen Shura Council, an umbrella organization of Sunni Arab extremist groups that includes al-Qaida in Iraq, issued a statement on a Web forum vowing to continue its holy war against the West. The authenticity of the statement could not be independently verified.

The group said Muslims would be victorious and addressed the pope as "the worshipper of the cross" saying "you and the West are doomed as you can see from the defeat in Iraq, Afghanistan, Chechnya and elsewhere. ... We will break up the cross, spill the liquor and impose head tax, then the only thing acceptable is a conversion (to Islam) or (killed by) the sword."

Islam forbids drinking alcohol and requires non-Muslims to pay a head tax to safeguard their lives if conquered by Muslims. They are exempt if they convert to Islam.

Sounds like a clever idea, torture and tax non-believers into believing. Yeah, that will work. Remember the success that the Catholic Church had using that tact back in the Inquisition?

In Indian-controlled Kashmir, meanwhile, shops, businesses and schools shut down in response to a strike call by the head of a hard-line Muslim separatist leader to denounce Benedict. For the third day running, people burned tires and shouted "Down with the pope."

Uh oh, Mr Pope. They're burning tires. They're serious now. Be careful or they'll jump in their cars, drive to the Vatican, and... uh, scratch that, they don't have tires on their cars anymore.

Protests also broke out in Iraq, where angry demonstrators burned an effigy of the pope in Basra, and in Indonesia, where more than 100 people rallied in front of the heavily guarded Vatican Embassy in Jakarta, waving banners that said the "Pope is building religion on hatred."

What's the playground retort to this? Oh yes - "It takes one to know one".

On behalf of the Pope, allow me to apologize for the Church and the entirety of the West. Sorry, extremist Muslims, you're not evil and inhuman. I'm not sure how we ever thought that. Our bad. I'll be mailing my head tax check just as soon as you defeat the IRS, they bug us too.

And maybe if you were permitted to have a beer now and again, you wouldn't be quite so uptight. Ah, but not too much - as one of the worlds greatest thinkers, Socrates, once said - "Moderation in all things".

Moderation. Isn't that the polar opposite of extremism?

Call Someone Who Cares

2006-08-17T11:08:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one who get annoyed as hell when my favorite TV show (which is whatever it is i'm currently watching) is interrupted by a 1-800-DENTIST commercial?

I have never heard such monotonic actors delivering such inane babble. I guess that Fred, the founder of Futuredontics Corporation, while perhaps a fine CEO, also fancies himself as a fine judge of commercial talent/writing/production. Did he actually preview this crap before sending it to air? Watching these commercials has SO discouraged me from calling. When these come on, I flip the channel to the local public access cable channel, which invariably features better acting and more relevant information. Need to see for yourself? I tried finding these recent mind-numbing bits on their website, but for some reason did not find them posted. Perhaps they're busy suing their ad agency.

When it comes to selecting a dentist, give me the good old yellow pages, which, incidentally, has the same rigorous screening process that 1-800-DENTIST must have. Both have the stringent standards and requirements that compel them to only list those dentists whose checks have cleared.

Bring back the original 1-800-DENTIST lady!

PS Dont' Believe me? See for yourself!

Guilty by reason of insanity!

2006-07-26T15:51:00.000-07:00

Jury finds Yates not guilty in drownings
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060726/ap_on_re_us/yates_trial

NOT guilty???

She is most certainly guilty. How about "GUILTY by reason of insanity"?

Look, if you kill anyone and you are caught doing it with evidence that points to the FACT that you did it, then you are GUILTY. There are no asterisks. She cannot be NOT guilty. There's no amount of "I'm drowning you, but its OK because I'm crazy" that will make the victim OK with it. Sheesh, it sounds like the rule a kid makes up while playing tag.

Guilty is guilty. Andrea Yates is insane. She should be locked up so that she can no longer be a threat to society. Hell, they didn't think she was a threat before she drowned her kids. Once she is considered no longer a threat, is she free to do it again? Please.

The rules should be simple. Kill someone, not by accident, go to jail. For good. If you can't control yourself because you are insane, or you are drunk, or you are stupid, you need to be locked up. Get out of my society.

You too, OJ. We haven't forgotten.

And another thing (re: Muslims, Patriotism, and Truthiness)

2006-07-20T13:36:00.000-07:00

Re: Muslims, Patriotism, and Truthiness

Don't you just love the claim that Muslims cannot be a good American for geographic reasons? Having to face a certain direction once a day to pray makes you a non American? What kind of crap is this?

And the argument about having to marry four women and beat them. Reminds me of one of the Psalms from the bible "Blessed is he who bashes his enemy's head against the rocks". Look it up. It's in there somewhere. (That's truthy right there).

The only argument I can halfway buy is that anyone who submits to a leader calling for the overthrow of America would indeed make a poor American. And probably a lousy neighbor.

Muslims, Patriotism, and Truthiness

2006-07-20T13:07:00.000-07:00

Been too long since I've felt I've had something worthwhile to say. But recently I received the following little bit of "insight" from my well-meaning but mis-guided uncle recently.

Subject: FW: Can a good Muslim be a good American?

Interesting thoughts.

I forwarded that question to a friend that worked in Saudi Arabia for 20 years. The following is his forwarded reply.

"Have you ever thought -- Can a devout Muslim be an American patriot and a
loyal citizen? Is Muslim American really an oxymoron?

Consider this:

Theologically, no. Because his allegiance is to Allah, the moon god of Arabia .

Religiously, no. Because no other religion is accepted by his Allah except Islam (Quran, 2:256)

Scripturally, no. Because his allegiance is to the five pillars of Islam and the Quran (Koran).

Geographically, no. Because his allegiance is to Mecca , to which he turns in prayer five times a day.

Socially, no. Because his allegiance to Islam forbids him to make friends with Christians or Jews.

Politically, no. Because he must submit to the mullah (spiritual leaders), who teach annihilation of Israel and destruction of America , the great Satan.

Domestically, no, because he is instructed to marry four women and beat and scourge his wife when she disobeys him (Quran 4:34).

Intellectually, no. Because he cannot accept the American Constitution since it is based on Biblical principles and he believes the Bible to be corrupt.

Philosophically, no. Because Islam, Muhammad, and the Quran do not allow freedom of religion and expression. Democracy and Islam cannot co-exist. Every Muslim government is either dictatorial or Autocratic.

Spiritually, no. Because when we declare "one nation under God," the Christian's God is loving and kind, while Allah is NEVER referred to as heavenly father, nor is he ever called love in the Quran's 99 excellent names.

Therefore after much study and deliberation.... Perhaps we should be very suspicious of ALL MUSLIMS in this country. They obviously cannot be both "good" Muslims and good Americans. Call it what you wish...it's still the truth. "

If you find yourself intellectually in agreement with the above statements, perhaps you will share this with your friends.
The more who understand this, the better it will be for our country and our future.

Pass it on Fellow Americans.... The religious war is bigger than we know or understand.

Now, I have long considered my uncle to be open-minded, at least until now. Perhaps he did not read and think about the statements made in this little essay. He did serve the US in the military years ago, so he is entitled to his own slant.

I'm hoping that he just didn't read it. The more that people accept the above as fact, the more trouble we are in. If you have received thi before, or even read it and agree with it, please also understand the following:

1. I am not a Muslim, nor am I a particular fan of the religion. I am in favor of logically considering facts and trying my damndest not to be prejudice. Just because I do not agree with a religion does not make it categorically wrong.

2. The United States, although initially populated by pilgrims seeking the freedom to practice their religion as they saw fit, is founded on the precept of separation of church and state. Therefore each of the above arguments that claim anyone cannot be a patriot due to religious beliefs is simply incorrect.

3. The constitution is not based on biblical principals. Perhaps the author is in need of a civics class. In fact it upholds freedom of religion. I know of no reference to Christ in the Constitution.

4. Declaring "one nation under god" no more refers to the Western Judeo-Christian God that it does to Allah.

The author's name and the name of his/her friend from Saudi Arabia is conveniently omitted. This whole essay smacks of truthiness. Truthiness, as (re)popularized by Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report, is "the quality by which a person purports to know something intuitively or instinctively, without regard to evidence or to what the person might conclude from intellectual examination." As Colbert stated in an out-of-character interview, "It used to be, everyone was entitled to their own opinion, but not their own facts. But that's not the case anymore. Facts matter not at all. Perception is everything. It's certainty...

"What is important? What you want to be true, or what is true?... Truthiness is 'What I say is right, and [nothing] anyone else says could possibly be true.' It's not only that I feel it to be true, but that I feel it to be true. There's not only an emotional quality, but there's a selfish quality.

As I said, I am no supporter of the Muslim religion. But when I read the email, I was profoundly offended by the closed-minded prejudice masquerading as patriotism.

Please don't let someone waving the American Flag trick you into hating.

Tad out.

I received the most beautiful poem today...

2006-04-11T14:44:00.000-07:00

In my email box today came a beautiful poem, using the english language as color and my inbox as a canvas. I think it is truly on par with the work of e.e. cummings:

yield. an dandelion term

doorbell general election police
state an rancid off-peak openly scandalize as it passersby
soot a are tell
as four-letter word steak supposing, as droop ape and with
hunting tracer
lowbrow the is are and undue computerize two-bit
cluster, synthesize in
difference. tape measure to genealogist, hotly, was tabloid a an quality control
sew the was surface. airport

publicist the of throwaway of
dislocation and underground millennia misspelling. oblivion

tainted the ohm test case, please:

turnover lens:
thoughtful of
before reminisce. vineyard sudden duo pansy predominance
chide entitlement the prima donna. the czar displace misappropriation, to of
collegiate sermon and with tutoring an tattle a of yank a of underscore the
brute, ravage to roost

The rest of the email goes on to tout a small growth stock from China.

Why is it that our best poets need to resort to hawking penny stocks or pharmaceuticals in order to make ends meet? I think that this is truly a sad comment on our society today.

No Safety in Bonds

2006-03-10T07:38:00.000-08:00

So Barry Bonds gets booed loudly during hist first spring training at-bat, after allegations of steroid use are actually published.

Why?

Who DIDN'T know that he was on the juice? All of those fans cheered when he was hitting his 73 home runs a couple of years ago. Come on. Suddenly the fans have their panties in a wad now that any home run record he sets might be tainted? They all saw the king parading naked for years now.

And would the record be tainted? I am aware of no evidence that Babe Ruth, Roger Maris, or Hank Aaron were not on steroids. Except that, in reviewing photos from old baseball cards, their hat size did not double in the last 10 years of their careers.

But, here I find myself talking about this as if it matters. This is baseball, it's a game. Are records really that important? In the big picture, no. Baseball players and other athletes are simply paid entertainers, there to amuse the masses. Nobody complains when an actress gets a boob job. Isn't that cheating? Ah, but the kids look up to them (I'm talking about the ballplayers here - well, OK, the boobs too). From that perspective, it's deplorable, as more young folks take the example that using steroids are the fast, easy way to athletic success.

Further, don't forget the role that capitalism has played. Baseball entertainment is big business. And it's steroids that put fans back in the seats after the labor dispute in the early 90's, the same way that Babe Ruth's performance brought it back after the Black Sox scandal in the 20's. Perhaps the fickle fans just need a reminder about reasons that they are there to begin with.

So you don't like it that Barry Bonds allegedly used steroids? Talk with your wallet. Stay home from the games, don't watch Fox Sports or ESPN, and don't drink Budweiser or Coors. Tune in to PBS instead, read the Washington post instead of the Sporting News, all while enjoying a nice glass of merlot instead of a lager. Yep, sounds much more fun.

As for me, I'll get my fill watching Thing 1 out there on the T-Ball field this spring. Playing for love of the game.

Valentine's Day Massacre

2006-02-13T09:12:00.000-08:00

On the radio this morning, the newscaster uttered the teaser going into a commercial: "Up next, why do so many men wait until the last minute to get a Valentine's Day present?" My first reaction was that of surprise - surprise that the question is not "Why do so many men EVEN GET a Valentine's Day present?". Then I looked down to my lap and remembered why.

Seriously, though. Why? Valentine's Day has become yet another commercially driven obligation-based event. Many companies use it, like Christmas, to exploit a sense of obligation in attempt to separate you from your money. (Arrgh, I'm such the bitter miser). But am I entirely wrong? Looking at the ads that seem to be most prevalent during January-mid February timeframe, the two most appropriate gifts that a creatively deficient male can give his significant other is lingerie, flowers, or chocolate. Let's examine these "gifts", shall we?

Lingerie. Who is this gift really for? For women. Really? No. Who are they kidding. Lingerie is a gift for the man, like expensive wrapping paper. It makes the package look enticing, and two seconds later it's crumpled up on the floor.

Flowers. This is a sucker's gift. How come the same dozen roses that costs $80 can be had for $25 two weeks prior and one day after. For a couple of days worth of making the house smell like a mortuary. Romantic. Guys, you want to embarass the snot out of your lady? Send them to her at her place of work, so all of her coworkers gossip about why she was 15 minutes late and seemed a little tired that morning.

Chocolates. These are just plain cruel. The ultimate in double standards. Usually given by the same men who wish their bride was just a bit thinner. And received by brides who wish their husbands were not quite so cheap - couldn't they have gotten her some flowers instead? And what about lingerie, are you trying to say that by not giving lingerie that she's too fat? And on top of that, you show up with chocolates??? You bastard! All your stuff is now on the lawn.

Face it, the only gift most men figure they need to get is God-given, located between their belly and knees. That's right, their brain. Use it to be creative and just show some thoughfulness. It's much cheaper than flowers. And it can be done anytime, not just when the media says that you're obligated.

Reasons NOT to see Brokeback Mountain

2006-02-07T08:00:00.000-08:00

Many of us now, whether we know it or not, have that one relative who is "out". And invariably this relative has email access, and has already sent out a message or two to their entire address book recommending the Oscar-nominated picture "Brokeback Mountain". It's supposed to be a very good movie, well acted and directed. About gay cowboys. And straight men should go see it. The email lists a number of reasons why we should be compelled to see it.

I've compiled a list of reasons why I do NOT have to see this movie. And none of them involve homophopia:

1. I am a early middle-aged straight man with two kids. I do not go to movies.

2. I watch maybe one movie a month. And I get it from Blockbuster.

3. The movies I like to watch are those I expect will entertain me. This means that the movie ought to be funny, or there probably ought to be scantily clad young women, or some pretty neat explosions and/or other compelling (but not over-the-top) violence.

4. I don't like to see movies that explore relationships. Not even between men and women.

5. I don't care for westerns. Not since John Wayne and Clint Eastwood stopped making them.

6. Some might claim that my declination (is that a word?) to see it indicates that I have fears that I myself might have gay inclinations. My counterargument to that is that I never saw Dukes of Hazard. Does that mean that I'm afraid that I might be attracted to Jessica Simpson or fast cars? Or that I might be a WT redneck?

It seems like most of the acclaimed movies this award season have to do with homosexuality. Brokeback Mountain, TransAmerica, and the Truman Capote one, I don't even know the title. No wonder the middle east looks at the west and views us as Sodom and Gomorrah with nucular capabilities. I think Iran is devloping theirs just to keep our movies out of their theaters.

He's coming.

2005-12-12T20:11:00.000-08:00

And I'm not talking about Jesus.

http://tadannoyed.blogspot.com/2005/08/visitors-from-afar-day-1.html

I'll blog when I want...

2005-10-16T22:09:00.000-07:00

where I want, and why I want, dadgummit!

Just haven't been sufficiently motivated, energized, and enabled all at the same time lately, capice?

On Second Thought...

2005-09-24T21:07:00.000-07:00

I was going to log in and edit my entry of week ago this night, which was posted while obviously (slightly) under the influence.

Well, I'm not. I read it again after sobering up, and decided that I'm pretty much standing behind it. Damn proud of the spelling and punctuation, might I add.

Hope that you personally are doing well. My week kind of sucked, but I can't complain too much.

Cheers,

Tad

529 plans

2005-09-17T22:27:00.000-07:00

Random thoughts, now that a couple of cocktails have seemed to loosen the keys on the keyboard...

1. Damn, that dad of that kid on my kid's soccer team is uptight. So what if his kid just wants to spend the game picking his nose in the corner? Stop hollering. I'm sure he will be the star you want him to be one day. I'm sure one day he'll be a first round selection... out of a police lineup.

2. Yes, dear, I'll put up that shelf. One day. Real soon now. I just need to be asked a few more times. I'm not against the notion. After all, I spent 3 weeks painting it. This little project is like fine wine, you just don't want to rush it.

3. Katrina was a B-I-T-C-H bitch. And I'm pretty sure that the Republicans weren't the cause for the devastation. I have to think that the city below sea level was partly responsible.

4. I have the absolutely worst Human Resources departments known to man at work (work?) at my company. They put the CYA in HR. They are incentivized to remodel an office in which they do not work within budget and on schedule while jeopardizing the general welfare of those to whom they are advocates for ensuring that the workplace is a safe environment. At least let let us work from home during the demolition. Cretins. What a pleasure it has been for my whole group to lose window offices in favor of an interior cubicles while inhaling asbestos and varnish all the while. Sure hope that fat bitch gets a fuckin bonus.

5. Money magazine cites Middleton, Wisconsin as one of the best places to live despite its lack of ethnic diversity. Sounds like Beverly fuckin Hills.

Sorry for all the f-bombs. Sometimes drinking and blogging are a dangerous mix. There oughta be a law against BUI.

Oh, the 529 plans? I'm sure that I had something important to say. I think I was distracted by a shiny object. I'll get back to you real soon on that.

--TA

Thought for the Day

2005-09-15T13:46:00.000-07:00

I hate attending ceremonies that start off with a man in robes saying "Dearly Beloved..."

Pat Robertson's Not-So-Excellent Misadventure

2005-08-24T16:21:00.000-07:00

[Pat] Robertson, the founder of the Christian Coalition and a leader of the Christian right that has provided strong support for Bush, said on Monday of Chavez's fears: "If he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it." (Reuters)

When a Christian leader makes such an asinine statement, I gotta laugh. Christian Coalition. Humph. I'd say that this comment of his actually qualifies him, while not technically as a terrorist, but, as an every-bit-as-despicable religious extremist as any of those who are enlisted in Al Qaeda. Terrorists are those who actually inflict terror, in my estimation. But then I'll admit I've never watched the 700 Club. Like Osama bin Laden, he is actually advocating the murder of another human being despite the doctrines of the faith to which they are so rigorously devoted that they have perverted it altogether.

You just can't win claiming that you're a Christian. To claim to be Christian, you profess that it would be really really cool to be Christ-like. Face it, to be Christ-like is to be damn-near perfect. To claim to be Christian and go on the air, or even the freeway, you are sure to be called out as a Christian that sucks.

"But Tad", you say, "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven".

That's right. I know. Christians aren't perfect because NO ONE is perfect. They may be forgiven by the Good Lord above, but don't take it for granted that your fellow humans are going to do so.

Now I've always considered myself a Christian, but my idea of being Christian is to try to embody the Christian ideals in my actions, not my words. And I don't claim it with what I say, or with a bumper sticker on my car, because it would be pretty obvious that I too was a hypocrite.

And as for fundamentalist Christians, I think that it is pretty much insane to turn off your brain and turn responsibility for all you thoughts and actions over to a book like the Bible, claiming that anything it says is fact, and that settles it. Didn't the Good Lord give you your brains to begin with? Isn't it apparent that there are enough contradictions in the Bible that it would be IMPOSSIBLE to live your life by it word-for-word? Take a step back, folks. Consider what it is trying to tell you. Don't fret about the wording.

So shut up about being Christian, and just do it.

I think that the Bible can be glibly summarized by a quote from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

"Be excellent to one another"

Pat Robertson is just another man. Narrow-minded, judgmental, afraid, insecure. He is not excellent.

"Moderation in all things" - Socrates
"Perfect love casteth out all fear" - the Bible

but also
"Blessed is he who smashes the head of his enemy on the rocks" -- somewhere in the Bible as well, I'm thinking Old-Testamentish.

Enough rambling for now.

Tad

Kitchen Towels

2005-08-11T16:02:00.000-07:00

Do you know what's really annoying?

Kitchen towels with any kind of decorative applique sewn onto them. Those really bug the snot out of me. They're no good as kitchen towels, and if you use 'em, ya gotta wash 'em, and it ruins the decoration.

Since I don't regard them as the missing piece of the whole kitchen-decoration scheme, I think they're pretty useless. You can have 'em, and anything else with a country-kitchen theme as well. Decorative clutter.

Feh.

Ya Gotta Know When to Fold 'em

2005-08-10T17:19:00.000-07:00

Texas Rangers pitcher Kenny Rogers was reinstated Tuesday from a 20-game suspension levied against him for a assaulting a television cameraman twice.

As you may recall, on June 29th he had shoved the cameraman and knocked him down in the team clubhouse when he objected to having the camera pointing in his general direction. Then, after he started to walk away, he stopped, turned around, came back, and proceeded to kick the man, who was still on the ground. That's two assaults. The victim went to the hospital. The camera went back to Tex's Electronic Repairs.

Mr. Rogers apparently has some anger management issues.

So Major League Baseball, in the form of Commissioner Bud Selig, put the hammer on Mr. Rogers to the extent that he was able to, according to the current Collective Bargaining Agreement. 20 game suspension and a $50,000 fine.

Sounds tough, right? Nearly three whole weeks of not being able to work, and forking over $50k. Well, thanks to the aformentioned Collective Bargaining Agreement, the suspension was only a suspension from playing, and not from getting paid. He got a three week paid vacation. One that included his participating in the All-Star game, which coincidentally, pays $50,000. I should have that luck. I just wouldn't want ot have to beat someone up to get it.

It is true that Mr. Rogers apologized publicly, turned himself into police and was freed on bail. I have not seen evidence that the cameraman has pressed charges. Perhaps the victim doesn't want to be the bad guy and have the local team's star pitcher sent up the river. What a shame.

I'm not impressed, Mr. Rogers. What are you going to do to assure those around you that you do not intend for this to happen again?

But, the story gets happier. After serving only 13 days of the suspension, yesterday arbitrator Shyam Das ruled that the commissioner went too far, and ended the suspension. He also ruled that the $50,000 fine will be converted to a charitable contribution. This is great! Now Rogers is ahead on the deal, since he'll have a nice little tax deduction that he wouldn't have otherwise had. Oh, and if there were any incentives in his CONTRACT that are jeopardized by him missing games, the games he missed cannot be held against him. Isn't there a morals clause in that contract? Or did the union successfully get that "must adhere to the same laws as everyone else" loophole successfully expunged from the CBA.

Excuse my French, but Mr Shyam Das is an ASS. I don't pretend to know how an arbitrator got involved after the discipline was handed out, and I rarely agree with anything that Bud Selig does in the interest of the game, but I think the penalty he handed down was at least a good start. And now, even the wrist slap is going to be massaged with hand lotion and kissed.

Said Selig: "I strongly disagree with arbitrator Das' decision today. It sends the wrong message to every one of our constituents: the fans, the media, and our players."

"There is a standard of behavior that is expected of our players, which was breached in this case. The arbitrator's decision diminishes that standard and is contrary to the terms of the collective bargaining agreement. In my opinion, the decision is seriously ill-conceived," he said in a statement. (Source: Associated Press)

If good ol' Tad got sufficiently annoyed and went medieval on another human being like that, sure as hell I'd lose my job, be arrested, and my family will be left homeless after not being able to come up with the money to pay such a fine. But Mr Rogers is a pseudo-celebrity, so we use a different standard for him, as we do with all other professional athletes/amateur primadonnas.

Here is Tad's idea of justice for Mr. Rogers:

1. You're fired. This behavior should not be acceptable by any employer.
2. You're under arrest.
3. If the victim wishes not to press charges, it doesn't mean you don't have a problem. You're on probation. Get yourself into an angry-man rehabilitation. Do public-service announcements to raise public awareness about emotionally healthy ways to vent anger, such as knitting or blog-writing.
4. Provide any and all restitution to the victim and his employer.

That is what I regard as taking responsibility for your actions.

Mr. Roger's behavior gave not only the cameraman, but Baseball another black eye.

When I was a kid growing up, I wanted to be a big league player. I learned eventually that I was not cut out for it. Now as my kids grow up and are learning to play, less and less do I want them to pursue a career as an athlete. I would be happy if they did anything, as long as they did not beat people up.

Today I cleaned my toaster

2005-08-06T12:09:00.000-07:00

... it has been a good day.

Visitors from Afar, day 3/4

2005-08-04T15:22:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, Saturday finally. I awake knowing that our guests will be out visiting some other friends for a while today, so I will get to enjoy the day with my family.

I get to sleep in to an almost unheard of 9:00 AM. Well, not strictly. It's Saturday, so Thing 1 and Thing 2 wake up around 7:00 or 7:30 and make their way into our bed, begging to turn on the TV to watch cartoons. After about 10 minutes of persistent begging, we finally relent, just to get a few more precious moments of sleep. So I wound up not getting up until nine, when the kids were too hungry to sit still any longer.

Fortunately, Jan and Ted were up and nearly ready to go, and left without anything worth writing about happening.

I sat at my computer to check my email. Hmmm, a number of emails from major newspapers. They do not seem to be spam seeking a subscription. Hey, wait a minute! These are sent to my address, but addressed to Ted! When he used my computer the other night, that stupid %^#!@#&%! used MY EMAIL ACCOUNT to tell all of these newspapers about his pathetic struggles and the decision from a judge that vindicated him and validated that he was indeed a poor, sad, discriminated-against white male. And I got all of his form replies thanking him for his submission, and politely telling him to get lost. Sheesh, I could've done that. I sent an email to the professor advising him of his error in etiquette and forwarded all of the form replies back to him. Oh, how that pissed me off. However, I honestly don't that he was being mean, or that he is stupid. I think that he just didn't care enough to consider the consequences of his actions. And THAT, my friends, is stupid.

But, with Jan, Cameron, and Ted gone for the afternoon, we headed out to the mall - see my post on Potty Training and the Target Demographic. After we returned, the kids went down for a nap, and our guests had not yet returned.

So I headed over to Sam's Club to load up on meat to barbecue that night. Jan's mother, sister, and cousin were coming over, as well as my in-laws and maybe a few other folks who wanted to spend time with Jan. The ladies were to play cards until the wee hours and kibbutz, as they are wont to do. In the meantime, I would be busy cooking and then cleaning, so I would achieve the double bonus of a) avoiding Ted, and b) hearing the other women tell my wife what a wonderful husband she has. She really does, you know.

I got back, unloaded the booty from the truck, and fired up the grill. I rubbed some spareribs and tri-tip with a tasty ginger-garlic-rosemary rub that I'd invented a couple of weeks ago. As if I am the first. As I'm doing this, Jan, Ted, Cameron, and Marcus arrive. Ah good, I thought, I did not waste my money on a truckload of meat, Marcus is here. They brought some things in from the car to the guest room, and Jan and Cameron came out to join us, since we were getting the kids in the pool.

I glimpsed Ted leaving with Marcus, Jan said that they were heading out to get some more coffee for Ted. Apparently they had some sort of tiff over coffee while they were out. Not my business, I got me some meat to grill.

That's the last I saw of Ted.

Shortly thereafter, Jan's cousin Julie arrives. I've met Julie on a handful of occasions when Jan has come to visit. A very pleasant girl, single, about 30 give or take, if I were a guessing man. As I'm carrying the Tri-tip steak to the grill I ask her, tongue in cheek "Do you eat beef? Because if you're a vegetarian, I've got also got some nice pork spareribs..."

To which she responded, "...um, actually I am."

Oops. Faux pas. At least we had a bushel of my in-laws home grown zucchini that I was also planning on grilling, as well as some corn on the cob and salad.

I totally respect people who have decided to be vegetarian, I was just being a smart-ass. That gets me into trouble sometimes. Fortunately, Julie recognized the (attempt at) humor and was not offended. Did I say that she was pleasant?

So I cook up a mess o' meat, and vegetables, and even baked a loaf of bread in the dutch oven on the grill. Never tried that before, it worked out pretty nicely. Dutch ovens are wonderful for outdoor cooking when it's hot out.

Come time to eat, my in-laws arrived, as had Jan's mom, but no sister. Also, no sign of Ted or Marcus. Jan said that Ted had dropped off Lucas and was not feeling well, so he turned in early.

This is not good, I thought. Ted is notorious for wanting to get the hell out of Dodge on getaway day, after all it takes them 8 hours to get home. I had the feeling that he was setting up to sabotage Jan's late night of visiting with her family, which she rarely gets to do, by getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to hit the road.

Those of us who were there had a lovely dinner, and the ladies helped the kids get to bed while I cleaned up a bit, and then the ladies began their card playing. It wound down around midnight (kind of early for this sort of occasion), and Jan thanked me for the hospitality and said goodbye since she wasn't sure that she would see me in the morning.

Jan sure is nice, and I'm not being sarcastic here. I truly enjoy having her come around. She's my wife's best friend, and it really brightens her days when she's around.

I turned in, and my wife came to bed a short while later.

The next thing I know, I awaken to the sound of the front door slamming. Then, after a few more moments, it slams again. And again. This happens a number of times. It's 5:30 AM. I guess Ted doesn't want to hang around for pancakes, I thought. And I make some seriously wicked awesome pancakes. At least I think I do. But this knob is bent on leaving before the sun. Fine with me, I wish he would have just let Jan and the baby come on their own.

My wife goes downstairs to see them off. She tells Jan, with Ted right there, to just leave the door open. The kids are sleeping. He walks out and slam! He walks back in and slam! again. I hope it hits him in the ass on the way out.

When I got up a couple of hours later, they were gone.

Hours later, Jan called to tell us they arrived home safely. I took the call.

"Jan, I am so glad that you and Cameron got to stay with us. I had a good time." I told her. "Anytime you and Cameron want to come out, you're more than welcome."

It was genuine. I'm sure she understood me perfectly.

Visitors from afar, day 2

2005-08-02T17:10:00.000-07:00

If you have not already, you might want to read the previous entry, or just give it a good skim.

At least I get to go to work during the day and I'm not forced to spend too much time with Mr. Fascinating. But Ted is an early riser, and he is a coffee drinker. Oh, and not just coffee. Only triple-concentrated Kenyan estate coffee, ground from the bean. I awake about 30 minutes earlier than usual to the sound of the screaming coffee grinder. I don't know about you, but me no like waking up extra early. So this is followed by the strong aroma of coffee, which I am not opposed to, but the vapors of which are awakening and wiring not only the kids but the entire neighborhood as well. Argh.

I arrive downstairs, he is reading my paper and having a cup. I go to fill my commuter mug, and see that whatever it was that he put in the basket would not allow water to pass through, at least in a timely manner, and overflowed all over the warmer plate. He seemed little concerned, so I went ahead and cleaned it up, seething. I noticed the lever that cut off flow when the pot is removed was lying on the counter next to the maker. "Oh, I guess Jan broke that when she was cleaning it yesterday..." Grrrrrrr. It sure didn't cause him to be patient enough to wait the 7 minutes for the pot to brew before he HAD to fill his cup, letting the maker automatically drip all over itself and the counter.

I acted like I was in a rush, which was really no act since I just wanted to get the hell out. I headed to work.

The day goes pretty well, but I'm dreading the trip home. Not so much the traffic, but arriving. I take a more scenic route to buy myself about 10 extra minutes of quality me-time. I don't want to drag my feet too long because the wife is working tonight and Jan and Ted are watching my kids, Thing 1 and Thing 2. Oops - meant to say that just Jan is watching them, plus her own.

I arrive home and find that we've been joined by Ted's oldest son by his first marriage. Yes, there was someone from whom Jan did not learn a lesson, and that is Ted's first wife. His son, Marcus, is cut from the same cloth as Ted. He too is at least 6 feet eleventeen inches tall, and a good 300 lbs. At 21 years of age, he has the maturity of an eleven-year-old. And the personality (at least he has one) of a complete dork. He is a third-year literature student in college, and enjoys nothing better than obscure references to literature that only third-year lit students would ever get. Truly a clone of his father, except that he tries pathetically to be funny.

So I arrive home, the children had been napping. My two had just awoken and were watching TV, and Cameron was still sleeping. So Jan announced that she was going for a quick jog. No problem, pretending to dote on my children will preclude my feigning polite discussions about reverse discrimination and other professors padding grades. This worked well for about 15 minutes.

Then Cameron woke up and began a-fussin' and a-cryin' in his port-a-crib. And he cried, and cried. And cried some more. Ted and Marcus seemed pretty wrapt in the Thomas the Tank Engine video that Thing 1 and Thing2 were watching. I had to reach the remote and squint, trying to find the pause button among the 250 buttons on it. (I guess the Japanese do not have fat fingers like we lazy Americans do.)

I succeed in silencing Sir Topham Hatt in the midst of scolding a very naughty engine so that Cameron's father can hear his dear child suffering. So he did what any self-absorbed father would do - send the older son in to get the baby.

Marcus brought Cameron out to the family room where we were, where Cameron proceeded to kick up the volume and intensity. Cameron is really attached to his mother, probably because his father would prefer to only handle him with a blacksmith's tongs. He missed his mommy.

It was pretty comical, yet sad, to see the display of the inept attempts at child care that then proceeded. The child wailed, so the troublshooting duo of dad and older brother finally got busy. Check the diaper. Nope, it's dry, so that's not it. Hmmm. The kid just had a nap, so it's probably not tired. Hmmmm. Hmmm. Child wailing. Hmmmm. Hmmm. He probably just misses mommy.

I couldn't take it anymore. These buffoons wouldn't recognize a hungry child if he was wearing a T-Shirt that said "FEED ME, NUMBSKULL!!" I went into the kitchen to get some cheese and grapes, which for some reason all kids with 8 teeth seem to really love. As I was doing this, dad had his own brainstorm - call Jan, try to make the problem hers, and deny her of any bit of personal time that she probably has had in a week. I came back from the kitchen with a small bowl of food that Cameron just tore into, and finally there was peace.

At this point I really feel for the kid, and I still do. It made me realize that not everyone is born into this world to 2 loving parents that are glad to have you around.

Please do not misinterpret me here. Ted is not mean. He is just so utterly self absorbed that his actions by their very nature make him appear to be a right selfish prick.

I proceeded to start foraging through the kitchen for further sustenance for our guests when the suggestion came up to just order a pizza. Sounded good to me. I ordered two, just to ensure that there would be enough. I asked Marcus if there was anything that he did not care for on his pizza. Yes there was, he responded, no vegetables please.

Now one of the few parenting achivements that my wife and I are proiud of is that even our 5- and 2-year old eat some vegetables. Having them surrounded by a pizza made it even easier. But not for Paul Bunyan Jr. - he had to have plenty of red meat.

So we got a meat pizza, and a combo with veggies. Jan had arrived back, and we ate. And Marcus ate. Probably a full 3/4 of the meat pizza until I politely suggested that perhaps my wife might enjoy a slice or two when she got off of work. Had to cut him off, or he would have eaten the placemat as well.

Jan slipped me some money for the food afterward. No such overtures were made by Professor Breadwinner.

Finally my wife arrived, but unfortunately getting the kids bathed and into bed took away from any further significant quality time with Ted. Too bad.

Tomorrow will be Saturday, they will be off visiting some other acquaintances, so at least I won't have to share my space with Dolt and Dolt Jr.

Continued tomorrow!

Visitors from afar, day 1.

2005-08-01T17:19:00.000-07:00

The names in this account have been changed to protect the innocent, and cover my own ass.

This past weekend, my wife's best friend Jan, who lives out of state, came to stay with us for a visit. Jan was her maid of honor at her wedding, and is a very happy, enjoyable person to be around.

With Jan comes her adorable 20 month-old child, Cameron. Very cute kid. Oh, and her husband, Ted, also came along.

Jan orginally met Ted when my wife and I were dating, while he was getting his PhD at a local university. After he graduated, they moved to the Carolinas for a couple years and got married before he got a job teaching at the college level in Arizona.

Let me describe Ted for you. He is a man-mountain, a thick 6'10", and not fat, but big-boned. He is a fairly quiet person. And, he also has no concept of consideration for certain other people, especially, oh let's see - EVERYONE. Ted is a self-absorbed academic.

Now I don't like to categorize people and prejudge them based on stereotypes, but some stereotypes exist because there is at least some shred of truth to them. For instance, when I was taking engineering in college, and subsequently got a job at a major aerospace firm, my father commented to me that he couldn't picture me working there because I had "too much personality" to be an engineer. Stereotype through and through, I know. Engineers are dull and techno-centric, who alienate all other people by their intense focus on technical details. But as I began working there, I did find that about half of the engineers there personified this stereotype. It was eye-opening to me that half were actually very cool people with interesting personalities that were a pleasure to talk with.

But Ted is an academic that fits the profile that I myself have witnessed throughout my college and brief grad-school experience. Many academics are academics because they enjoy the recognition and attention that they receive for understanding something better than everyone else, and deploy a certain bit o smugness about it. Further, I believe that not all, but many academics secretly loathe teaching, not because they do not have a passion for their field of expertise, but because down deep they are very insecure, and secretly afraid that if they explained the essence of their field in a manner that was understandable to anyone else, then their command of the subject matter would no longer be unique, and they would no longer be special. I believe that Ted fits this rash generalization. Ted's field is Intertextualism in Spanish Literature.

Can you guess where this is going? My wife's best friend is in town. The ladies chat to catch up with each other, talk about mothering, children, yadda yadda yadda, and the men are left in the family room to watch TV and talk about men things.

The conversation on Spanish Intertextualism lasts about 30 seconds, since that's about as long as I could even pretend to give a shit about it.

Being a good host, I yield the remote control to Ted. Baseball? Nah. Racing? Sports? Nah. How about some nice Mexican Novelas or news program. OK, now I'm bored in my own house. In front of my own big-screen television.

Well, we could talk about other aspects of work that have to do with beauracracy or other administrivia, you know, the common-denominator sort of stuff that happens in just about any office. So he launches in on how he has been discriminated against at work because he is a white male. A few years ago, his department head apparently came in and gave blanket raises to everyone except the white males, because, if you listen to Ted, white males were making too much more money than the non-whites and non-males in the department. I guess that's injustice, I'll grant him that. The bottom line is that he spearheaded the effort to take the case to court, and his group of white guys had just won a decision. No money yet, but an important victory.

So he asked if he could use my computer to search the web about news stories on it, since this story about how he was dissed by the man ought to be front-page news on the Washington Post or something. Yes, of course, please be my guest, have at it. I don't want to be rude, and this was pretty important, to him anyway. So he goes off to my office upstairs for an hour or so, and I get to watch the ball game. Ah, at least I get sit in my chair for an hour or so while the boor is keeping himself busy.

To be continued...

Potty training and the Target Demographic

2005-07-30T22:44:00.000-07:00

My two year old is finally learning to use the potty. Whew. Biting the bullet, going through this experience for hopefully the last time.

He's doing pretty good at it, he's only soiled the carpet twice. I can live with that. In a couple of years I'll have forgotten what an arduous task it is to potty train a child. It's a lot more effective to give positive attention for his successes than to reprimand failures. So, as a reward for dropping a deuce into the terlet instead of his pants, we get to go to one of his meccas. Yep, as you might have guessed, it's the Thomas the Tank Engine Store at the not-so-local mall. OK, so you didn't guess it. But he was happier than a pig in slop to be there.

But that's not what this blog is about. It never is.

You see, a shopping mall is about the last place on earth that I enjoy spending time. Something happened between the time I was 17 and um, let's say more than 29. Oh yes, that's it. I am now responsible for all of my own living expenses and therefore wince at the thought of having to pay more than $40 for a pair of shoes or $25 fo a pair of jeans, let alone all of the other crap they have to sell there. Nowhere else have I ever felt like such a curmudgeon, so far out of the target demographic. God, I miss being in the target demographic for that which is hip and current.

Now, it seems like malls target only a) teenagers b) teenagers that do not yet have faceplates for their cell phones covered with flashing LEDs, c) women who need extreme makeovers, d) women who have had extreme makeovers, and need a bit of touch-up paint, and e) gay men who care about their appearance.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not bashing anyone who identifies with any of the above group, but Tad here is a straight, soon-to-be-middle aged man who doesn't give 2 shits about his appearance. Maybe a shit and a half, but definitely not two. I don't care that deeply about what other people think. I'm in the software industry, where wearing a shirt with a collar is enough to get my teammates wondering what company I am interviewing with that day.

It's just that the mall to me is a crowded, overly-effeminate place to be. Again, nothing wrong with that, but it's just not where I am meant to be.

Yet I find myself there, amazingly and agonizingly, about twice a year. Usually once before Christmas (note - NOT the HOLIDAYS, it's Christmas, goddamit) and once invariably during the summer months. Each time, I find myself usually on the hook to find an obligatory gift for someone, and I find myself wandering aimlessly, looking for perfect obligation-fulfilling item to present itself in a display window, with regular retail price of hundreds of dollars conveniently marked down to my obligatory-gift-comfort level of about $4o.

I generally wind up gravitating to something that I imagine that I would enjoy, and usually that's in the tool department at Sears. They got them some tools that I wish I knew what they were for, and that I had a regular use for. Then I wonder if it would pass for the holy grail for which I've made this journey. "Would Mom like this belt sander? She's been talking about getting that dining room table refinished."

But today I had this freedom not. It was Thomas the Tank Engine store, and then search for new shoes for Thing 1 and Thing 2, which is how The Cat in the Hat would identify my two cherubic offspring. They're really good kids, and I know I'm really lucky to have them, but even good luck eventually gets old without a little bad luck to make things interesting.

OMIGOD what a sea of cosmetic displays, lotion shops - yes, entire stores dedicate to foo-foo skin care, and gay-mens fashions - again, not that it doesn't have its place. But that was another part of my good fortune - we got to leave after being unable to find a pair of shoes that did not hurt Thing 1's feet, and no two pair of size 8 kids sandals that were actually the same size.

I suppose that I am forever destined to be a self-unrealized unfashionable hetero-curmudgeon that would be a prime target for the Fab 5 at Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

Nah, I'm probably out of that demographic too.

Have a Nice Day,

Tad

Good Luck, Margaret

2005-07-27T17:42:00.000-07:00

This is getting old.

Two days ago I get a phone call from what my caller ID referred to as a Gastroenterology group. I do have a phone with an extra wide LCD display, you know.

"Hello?"

"Is Margaret there? This is Dr. Chen's office." The voice stated.

"Uh, there is nobody here by that name at this number."

"Is this 555-3353?"

"Yes it is. You must have the incorrect information".

That is how it went, roughly, to my recollection.

Should have been end of story. But you're reading a blog. Of course it is not.

Today as I am just walking in the door at around 5:30, I hear that the phone has just finished ringing and that a message is being left.

"Margaret, this is Dr. Chen. I just wanted to let you know that the polyp that we removed was benign. If you have any questions, please call me."

I grabbed at the phone, but Dr. Chen had just hung up.

So being a good citizen I check my caller id and see that it's the same office as the prior incident. I call it back and explain that I had received the good news intended for someone named Margaret, and that they should perhaps try to reach her in another manner. This was met not with a polite apology, but a rather indignant tone and a very harsh "Thank You!". It was a thank you, but it was harsh. So I'm annoyed a little.

Ah good. I'm over that now. I sure hope Margaret finds out. Since it was already 5:30, I'm sure that the front office staff won't be able to find the time to do a zabasearch on good ol' Margaret. No doubt another sleepless night for her.

Tad

What the puck?

2005-07-23T22:56:00.000-07:00

The NHL labor dispute is finally over. Whoop de doo.

I am a former season ticket holder for the local NHL team, which if you must know, is the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim. Maybe you've heard of them, perhaps have even seen the movie. 3 seasons. Upper deck, last row, red line. Right in front of the announcers booth. Wicked awesome. Well, it used to be, anyway.

The NHL is the first major sport ever to have an entire season cancelled because of a labor dispute. Only in (North) America. This has hurt not only the players, but all of the employees of the league and the teams whose positions were made obsolete because of the dispute. It also hurt the fans, who bankroll the entire operation by purchasing a bit of diversion from their own lives. Oh yeah, the owners probably lost a few bucks (both Canadian and American).

But, if you were to believe the owners, they probably lost less money during the dispute than they would have if the season would have been played. You see, this labor dispute was not a strike, but a lockout. The owners shut everything down, took their pucks, and went home.

Why, you ask? Because the owners were losing too much money. The players were taking it all. Only they players weren't actually stealing it. It was sort of promised to them by the owners themselves.

Whwhwhwhwhat? Yep. The whole labor dispute is that the players wanted the money contractually owed to them for services to be rendered, and the owners do not want to honor the contracts they signed.

I would like to point out that I am annoyed.

These fat bastards, most of them being billionaires or major coroporations, sign players to contracts and then cancel the whole shebang because they woke and found themselves in bed with one ugly payroll that they were now committed to. How did these clowns get their megabucks in the first place?

But now the whole 'dispute' has been resolved, as the player's union finally caved and succumbed to a 24% pay cut. Now there's a union chief worth reelecting.

All I can say is that it will be a cold day in Anaheim before my ass graces a seat at the pond to watch a team named after a lame kids movie. The owners have earned themselves a 100% revenue cut from yours truly.

In the words of Red Green, "Keep your stick on the ice."

Grand Theft Auto and The Oval Office

2005-07-21T15:28:00.000-07:00

I've been on vacation for the last couple of weeks, catching up with the family. My younger brother, who has no kids, brought along his PlayStation and a copy of Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

What a riot. This is a video game in which you control a character who roams the streets of a fictional city, stopping pedestrians and beating them or shooting them randomly, stopping traffic, carjacking vehicles, driving around firing automatic weapons and exploding incendiary devices. You can also stop in on any number of safehouses to change into some sweet pimped-out outfits. Or, you can have an encounter with a prostitute and then beat her to death and take back your money.

I laughed non-stop when I saw this. I guess that this portrays something so far outside the realm of reality, at least my reality, so it hit me as absurd.

And like many video games, this one has a number of "cheat codes" that are implemented, whether to aid the testers during the development cycle or as treats for the fanatics. According to an LA Times article, a cheat code was recently discovered/made public on the internet that unlocks hidden interactive sex scenes. (Code name: Hot Coffee.) Sign me up!

But not everyone likes this idea. The Software Ratings Board revoked the game's "Mature" rating and raised it to "Adults Only." (I guess you can portray the beating of a hooker and that's OK, but show the sex and that's crossing the line.) This prompted major retailers like Wal-Mart to pull it from the shelves. Which is understandable. It also provoked comments from lawmakers like Washington state Rep. Mary Lou Dickerson and - get this - Hillary Clinton.

This, is great. Good Ol' Hillary getting upset over teenage boys being exposed to some good old fashioned faux-porn. She's even calling for a federal investigation.

What's the saying? Charity begins at home? I guess it's true for sexual depravity as well.

I'm waiting for the first idiot parent to file a lawsuit claiming that this feature is corrupting their little Johnny.

"Yes, your honor, I thought that I was buying this game so my son could pretend to roam the streets committing senseless acts of violence and cruelty - but never would I have expected that he would be exposed to the visual equivalent of a Ken and Barbie doll bumping cods. Now give me my $15 million to help me get over this trauma. Oh, and add some for Johnny too. He'll need a few extra sessions at his therapist."

Here we go again

2005-07-07T08:03:00.000-07:00

Need I post anything about this one, folks?

My heart goes out to the family and friends of the victims of the London bombings. It also goes out to all of the innocent people of race commonly stereotyped as being affiliated with terrorist organizations. (There is no monopoly on this one, folks.) These terror mongers not only destroy property and take lives, they make the quality of life worse for everyone, including their own kin. I don't pretend to understand the religious tenets or principles of most non-Christian religions, but I cannot seem to get my head around anyone believing that their higher power condones and encourages such an insane assault on humanity.

I don't know what to say, and, once again, have not let that fact stop me.

Bend it like Cobi

2005-07-07T07:42:00.000-07:00

The best football, er, soccer team in the world, Real Madrid, featuring David Beckham and Ronaldo, is coming to Los Angeles to play the LA Galaxy. The game is just 10 days away, and for some reason there are still tickets available. The Home Depot Center, the Galaxy's home venue, seats 27000 people. I find this hard to believe, even for $50 a seat. Don't people realize what they're missing? This is a cultural opportunity here.

Now I'm not a basketball fan, but if Michael Jordan were to make an appearance playing at the arena down the street and there were tickets available, I would consider ponying up 5o bucks to see him play, just to be able to say that I did.

Of course the Galaxy do not make it easy for casual observers like myself. In order to get tickets, you must also purchase at least as many tickets to their match against Chivas USA, the new LA-based expansion team languishing in last place. And the cheapest seats for that is also $50. Now I understand a bit more.

I'm not much of a soccer fan either, but I would definitely want to see this team play. Unfortunately, I have alternate commitments that preclude my attending this event, but hearing that tickets were still available gives me reason to pause.

Hey, wait a minute. Doesn't this annoy YOU? Here I am going on about how people are nuts NOT to go see this match, and yet I beg off because of a vague claim about somewhere else I have to be doing something else I have to do. It would annoy me. So I must invoke blogger's privelege here, and complain about that which I do myself.

Such is the duality of being the complex and mysterious enigma that is Tad.

My Daily Affirmation, with visual aid

2005-07-06T22:53:00.000-07:00

I am

I am smart enough,

and doggonit, I don't really give a damn if anybody likes me.

Well maybe just a little bit.

Unsafe and Insane

2005-07-05T13:11:00.000-07:00

Happy Fourth of July, sometimes referred to by the cognoscenti as "Independence Day". Time to once again revel in the fact that the colonies are no longer under the oppressive thumb of the King of England. That taxation without representation was really getting on my nerves. That's not to say that taxation with representation is any better.

But to many folks out there, we simply celebrate July 4th, and we don't know why. And how do we celebrate the fact that it's the fourth day of July, which, for some really good reason I'm sure, we got Monday off? That's right. We blow shit up.

You see, in the quaint hamlet in which Tad resides, in the middle of the contiguous suburbian melange of bedroom communities known as Orange County California, the local ordinances allow for the ignition of "safe and sane" fireworks. Nevermind that the tax revenues collected due to their sales probably does not come near to the added cost of having to field more police and firefighters that day. But these "safe and sane" fireworks are a public hazard that the other 98% of OC cities have chosen to outlaw within their boundaries. And it's not so much that the fireworks are a public hazard, it's just that they are a hazard when in the hands of most people who buy them. Are you paying attention, you teenaged boys?

So, say you find yourself in the demographic in which a) you don't know what independence means, b) you cannot spell MTV, but watch it not knowing that it ever used to show music videos, c) you live in the OC, and d) you have more testosterone now than you know what to do with. So what do you do on the 4th? That's right, come to the town where fireworks are legal. You invite your cousins. You find friends who live there. If not, you find the parking lot of an elementary school there. Can't go to a park, however, because the city cleverly sets the sprinklers to come on the evening of the 4th, pissing away its tax proceeds from the firework sales. Further, you don't check the fine print on the legislation, so you are not concerned with which fireworks get the Good Housekeeping seal or not. So you also bring the good stuff you got in Tijuana or from the Indian reservation a couple of months back on spring break.

And you light them off. Blow shit up. Launch 'em. As long as makes a loud boom or nearly blows your buddy Jimmy's hand clean off, it's rad and gnarly. And you do it until after midnight. Hell, it's not like you have a job where you have to go to work the next day or anything. Oh, and nevermind the spent casings from your soiree. Leave them in the street. The city will come by to clean it up.

Morons. Thought I was in Baghdad. And I'm not throwing that out there flippantly.

But I digress...

So, now that the United States has been an independent nation for 229 years, one might think that the novelty of celebrating this would have diminished by now. Sure, it's the nation's birthday and all, but don't birthdays stop becoming a big deal once you've past 21 or so?

In my opinion, we're selling and shooting the fireworks off on the wrong day. We should be lighting up the skies on Memorial Day. Not just celebrating the birth of a nation, but celebrating the lives of those who paid the price for our ability to congregate in school parking lots and blow things up. Not that the original insurgents (they called them minutemen back then) don't get their props, they were the first in line for Memorial Day.

Not that I would wish that anyone would have to go there in the first place, but perhaps all that firework lighting by those in the aforementioned demographic is good experience that could be put to use in Iraq. I'm sure the neighbors there have a more immediate appreciation of Independence.

And that's just my opinion, the stating of which is constitutionally assured. Thanks Vets, you are collectively a braver man than I.

Tad

Another Rant - Now With Less Sugar!

2005-07-01T14:11:00.000-07:00

Did you see this one?

Woman Sues Over 'Deceiving' Cereal Labels

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Health/story?id=625559

Jennifer Hardee of San Diego, CA is suing cereal companies because she claims that their accurate labeling is misleading because she chooses to believe that the claim of a product having "less sugar" equates to "better eat lots because it promotes good health".

I guess I missed the story when it came out a couple of months ago, but noticed it today when reading This is True (see my link to on the right). As far as I am concerned, people like this are correct and deserving in requesting that the whole world know exactly how stupid they really are.

At least when Tad does something stupid, and there is no shortage of that, I don't go out of my way to sue someone else over how stupid I am. Nosiree. I display it in other ways, like writing a blog.

And that's about all I've got to say for now. Uhm, yeah. I'm pretty sure that's it.

How Must Martha Feel

2005-06-30T22:21:00.000-07:00

Here at the House o' Annoyed I generally try to keep up an originality policy as much as I can. No point in mouthing someone else's rant. No joy in that. But there are some ideas and observations that are just too funny to me not to pass along, even though they did not originally emanate from between my own ears. Like sharing a good joke while hanging around the water cooler. And face it, the ideas haven't been walking up to ol' Tad and knocking him on his kiester lately.

Last night I was watching a repeat of The Daily Show on Comedy Central. Sad to say that it is not a joke that it is where I get most of my news. It was from a couple of weeks ago when Wacko Jacko was acquitted.

Correspondent (Senior Child Molestation Expert) Steven Colbert - the funniest sidekick the show has ever had - pointed out that it is impossible to get convicted of a crime in California. OJ had blood on his glove, he walked. Robert Blake's alibi was "I went back into the restaraunt to get my gun". Skated. Cops beat up Rodney King on tape. Acquitted, which started a riot. The rioters beat Reginald Denny, again on tape. No convictions. And now Jackson.

"Apparently," Colbert pointed out, "to get convicted in California, you must commit your crime in front of the actual jury"

As Jay Leno observed, "think of how Martha Stewart must feel."

Flag Burnin'

2005-06-30T22:12:00.000-07:00

Here is a great post about the recent push to amend the US Constitution to ban the burning of the American flag. Cheers to Wiggy! Hear hear!

Today's Subject

2005-06-29T13:15:00.000-07:00

It's been TWO weeks now. Starting to spread out the entries. Gotta pace myself, you know? I knew when I started this I would probably lose interest after a while... I think I've done pretty good to keep it up thus far.

I had some things to get off my chest, and these blog thingies do quite nicely to let one vent anonymously to the world. At least semi-anonymously. I know that some of you know who I am. ( Hi dear! I'll be home right after work! )

Perhaps one day I'll start a blog and keep my mouth shut about it so that nobody will know about it and it'll stay anonymous. Nah, I wouldn't be able to keep it to myself. I suppose there's just not enough that annoys me sufficiently. Except traffic. And you don't want to hear any more about that, do you? Well, do you???? I thought not. My life is pretty goddamned charmed when you get right down to it. My problems are not problems at all. Either that or I'm in that emotional Disneyland known as denial.

Which brings me to today's subject -- which, uh, is the fact that I really don't have a subject today. But when one pops into my cranium, I'll be sure to leak it out my fingers onto the keyboard and post it right here in this very spot. Yup. That could happen any time now. Stay tuned.

Traffic blog for the ides of June

2005-06-15T21:25:00.000-07:00

Here's one that made me chuckle.

Morning commute, I405, blah blah blah... see my previous posts if you want to be bored to tears with my commuting whine.

But this morning, as traffic was loosening up and speeds picked up, I was cut off by a black Acura Legend that got right in front of me, almost clipping my front fender. After it passed the car that it had been stuck behind, it zipped right back over to get out of the way, as if remorseful. So as I passed it on left, dispensing my typical scornful "what the f*ck do you think you're doing?" glance, I saw the face of a slender 30ish brunette woman, sticking her tongue out at me. Not playfully, but equally scornfully. Getting her neener-neener on.

I had to laugh. I was still annoyed, but laughing nonetheless. The day turned out pretty good after that.

Tad out.

For the record, Mr Jackson...

2005-06-13T21:00:00.000-07:00

... was declared "not guilty" on each of the 10 counts with which he was charged. Not once did I hear the the jury foreman use the word "innocent". There's a difference in my book.

And to that, I say a very Gumpian "That's about all I've got to say about that-uh."

It's a Good Day

2005-06-13T13:24:00.000-07:00

I've got the morning commute down to a science. Get on the blasted 405 in stop-and-go traffic, stay to the right for a few exits, cut through the half-cloverleaf offramps on a couple of 'em without exiting, then do a hard-over to the number one lane until things loosen up and the rest is a pleasure cruise. Notice I don't call it the "fast lane", since that concept hasn't applied to Southern California freeways since 1983.

Now, I'm not a full-on road rager, but I do take exception to people wasting my time with their cluelessness. It's frustrating to no end when traffic lightens up and the car in front of you, which is doing a responsible 20 MPH in bumper-to-bumper conditions, cranks it all the way up to 45 when every other lane is -BAM!- up to 75.

So this morning I was quite proud of myself for not getting into a situation that would have driven me through the roof. A 20 year old Lincoln, replete with sagging headliner, patches of bondo, and other evidences of half-assed body repairs, is cutting across lanes, one at a time, in an effort to join me in the leftmost lane. In these cases, I usually cast glance to see if there is multiple passengers in the car, figuring they need to get into the HOV lane, so I let 'em over. It's the civil thing to do. But in this case I see just the driver, a rather WT looking dyed-platinum female who, if I had to speculate, was a chain smoker, dressed in office attire. I was already doing about 50, so I pick up the pace a bit to discourage her from cutting in front of me. No problem, it worked, no contention. She merged behind me without incident.

Then I notice what made my day. As the pace increased across all lanes and all those around me were getting it up to 70, I look in my rear-view to see the Lincoln straining to get going any faster than 55 - this, and a trail of visible exhaust behind it, followed by a line of other cars with their right-turn signal on. There, but for the grace of God, went me. I turned my sights forward and sped on contentedly.

I guess the point to all this is that we need to take the time to notice when things aren't as bad as the could be. So the next time things are going pretty crappy for you, just be glad that you're not stuck behind some WT bimbos' slow moving Lincoln sucking fumes.

Have a super day!

It's not possible

2005-06-08T22:05:00.000-07:00

Hey, kids. It's been a whole week. Yeah, I know. Been a Tad Exhausted lately. I don't want to get in to it. That's not to say that it is not possible...

Hence the headline. I was shopping with Ms Information the the other day at a local Target. Now I prefer shopping at Target much more than Wal-Mart because shopping there makes me feel like I'm in, how do you say, a first-world country. It's clean, and the merchandise is on the shelf instead of the aisleway, typically near it's price marker.

We were looking for a particular make and model of a bike trailer in which to haul our knee-biters around the neighborhood. We were looking for the "Quick 'n Lite (sic)", which has a feature set we desired, but all they had on the shelf was the "Quick 'n EZ (sic again)" model, which was on the lower end and therefore out of the question. There was only an empty spot on the shelf where the object of our desire would have been right at home, waiting to go home with a good family.

(By the way, don't get me started about the dumbification of the English language in product names. That's an entirely different rant in which I'll likely contribute to the problem. And while I'm at it, by the way, also don't get me started on insipid text messaging abbreviations like "BTW".)

There are no red-shirted clerks around - and that is what they are, don't give me this sales associate bullshit. So I find the nearest kiosk with a customer service phone, which when I picked it up, told me that someone will arrive at the phone within 60 seconds to assist me. Pretty cool, methinks. However, it was a little less cool when I had to call again 5 minutes later.

But then "James" the clerk came sauntering up the aisle with no particular sense of purpose. He was a slight young man with bushy scraggly hair and jaw hanging agape. I couldn't tell if he was coming to help me - there was no one else around - or just aimlessly wandering, waiting for his shift to end. I was a bit surprised when he actually stopped and offered to help.

I led him to the empty space on the shelf and asked if he could find out if they had any "Quick 'n Lite" trailers in the back. I spent a moment pointing out that it was not the same as the "Quick 'n EZ", but as I was telling him this I could tell that I was overwhelming him with information about the products that his store is in business to sell to me. He wrote down the info from the price marker in front of the empty shelf space and disappeared.

About five minutes later he reappeared to tell me that, no, they did not have any more in the back. I already half-expected this answer, as stores never have anything in the back. Most stores, in fact, do not even have a back. But the look on his face was, well, not there. There was absolutely no look on his face. He was a simple zombie looking at me as is if he was looking through me. I knew he didn't want to be there. I knew he probably had just gone to the back to take a quick hit off a bong. I knew that another question would make his eye twitch, or maybe cause him to wet himself as he stood there otherwise perfectly motionless.

So I decided to press my luck - just for entertainment purposes, like betting on a longshot with found money.

"Do you know when you might get more in?" I queried, bracing myself.

"No, that would be IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND OUT" he replied, still gazing through me.

Impossible. I was aghast at the word he used. Perhaps it is because I believe that there is little that is truly impossible. Cold fusion. Travelling faster than the speed of light. Dropping toast and having it land peanut-butter-side-up. But certainly not this. I thought for a second.

"Ah well, thanks for checking".

I thought for a moment and realized that he was right. It WAS impossible for him. It was impossible because he just didn't give a shit. Stupid puke kid. Made me, would you believe, a Tad Annoyed.

But to my surprise, he offered a potentially helpful suggestion:

"Perhaps you could try checking at another Target store, they often carry the same stuff"

I thought again. Hey, dickweed, thanks for nothing. I already know you are not capable of accessing any inventory computer you have back in the employee hooka lounge. So I don't suppose you know how to operate a telephone and call a couple local stores for me to see if your own suggestion is even worthwhile. Of course I did not say this to his face, this is why I have this blog.

Nevermind, James. I think I'll go check at Wal-Mart.

Hamburgers, Kids, and Star Wars, and Porn

2005-06-01T16:05:00.000-07:00

According to the San Francisco Chronicle,

A parents group, the Dove Foundation, is trying to strong-arm Burger King
to stop using "Star Wars" characters to promote its Kids' Meals. "Sith" is rated
PG-13, you see, and OMG, won't someone think of The Children™?"

At the same time, a homely stick-figure with a fat purse and stolen cell phone named Paris Hilton is frolicking about in a bathing suit (which she does not fill out) under the guise of washing a Bentley, getting more water on herself than on that which needs to be cleaned, which in this case is my memory of watching her doing this. Oh, yeah, and in the last couple of seconds of the 30 second spot she chomps down on a Carl's Jr. burger.

"This commercial is basically soft-core porn," said Melissa Caldwell, research director for the Los Angeles-based Parents Television Council. "It's inappropriate for television."

The Los Angeles Times reported Tuesday that the group plans to mobilize its more than one million members to protest and is considering asking the Federal Communications Commission to declare the ad indecent.

So you might ask yourself, what's wrong with this situation, and what great ideas does Tad Annoyed have that would solve this?

Glad you asked. Just a simple matter of switching the casts.

First, get Paris off that car (which, by the way, is better built than the thing she was on in her previous well-known video). Replace her with the cast of Star Wars. Get Princess Whats-her-name in there washing down the Millenium Falcon with a sponge, and then washing down those awful fries with a Diet Coke(TM).

Then, replace the Star Wars toys in the kids meals with little Paris Hilton toys. No, not the toys she uses, but little doll replicas. OK, they can just use sticks. But the underlying moral message to the kids is not to become promiscuous while spending all of their inheritance, but rather to encourage the young 'uns to finish that entire high-in-saturated-fat and cholesterol laden burger and fries or else this is how you might end up looking.

In either case, I'm afraid, not a very pretty picture.

Barney's Kids

2005-05-31T22:08:00.000-07:00

As a human responsible for two knee-biters running around, occupying two safety seats in a minivan and consuming way too much candy and ice cream, I can say that I am as annoyed to death as the next guy by Barney the Purple Dinosaur. But I won't.

I am annoyed out of my skin by the sappy, so-sweet-they-give-you-diabetes kids that flank the great gob of purple spew, dancing around like little monkeys around a Fisher-Price hurdy gurdy. These stepford kids really need slapping. Normal kids their age should be kicking the chump in the costume, with one bending down behind him while another shoves Barney over backward.

"I love you, you love m...whoa... ow!... Hey, come back here you little shit bastard!!!"

Even more annoying is their parents, who are the ultimate in evil. Exploiting their kids in any way possible for their own personal gain, trying to get their kids celebrity status for the big payday, hoping to be the next Macauley Caulkin or something. Well, we all know how that turns out. Either with anorexia, or robbing liquor stores by age 17 and spending the night in jail - or worse - playing their cards wrong, making the wrong celebrity contacts and spending the night at the Neverland Ranch. Ugh, sorry I even brought that one up. I think I just threw up in my mouth.

Get me away from the keyboard before it's too late.

Look, I don't care

2005-05-26T21:53:00.000-07:00

how trippin', skankin', or how phat the music is that you have playing in your car. Stop bobbing your head to it. You look like a moron to everyone that is not in your car. And even to them, the jury is out. Just stop bopping you head. Please.

Oh, and put out that cigarette. I don't want to smell it (and don't think I can't), and its not killing you quickly enough.

On the bright side, I can't hear the music causing your neck to have convulsions. Anyway I hope that there is some music doing it to you. I guess I should be counting my blessings.

TV is not Reality.

2005-05-25T22:47:00.000-07:00

So Rob married Amber on national TV. I was so touched, I cried. For mercy, that is. It was a two hour plug for the resort they staged it at, the clothes designers, the caterers, the band, etc. etc. CBS apparently thought it to be good television to take two hours of primetime during sweeps to stage this made-for-TV marriage of two professional reality show semi-celebrities. Who the hell cares about these two chuckle heads who are already about 3 hours past their alloted 15 minutes of fame. Unfortunately, too many of us do. And by "us", I mean "them" - obviously not you or I. I know that you don't care, since you're reading a blog instead of watching Survivor or The Amazing Race or some other manufactured "reality" show on TV.

Sheesh. I've got *my* wedding video on tape, and I pop it in anytime houseguests overstay their welcome. The entire 2 1/2 hours. "Oh, look, here's where we light another candle!" "Didn't we look so much younger then?" "Do you have to leave so soon?" (Sound of feet running and a door slamming)

But I digress. Reality TV is not. If it is *on* TV, it is not reality. It's an imaginary world inside the magic box. Sex and violence are all imaginary. And so are, and thank God for this, PAX-TV and the Hallmark channel.

After all, if you find yourself stranded on a deserted beach somewhere, it's not going to be with a dozen other people who had to audition to get there. And if and when it ever does happen - in reality, that is - there won't be a TV camera and production crew there to capture all of the interactions and alliance-making. The prize for surviving is just that - surviving.

If you want a real reality show, just stick a camera in any living room in America and watch a different dysfunctional extended family unit watching their TV. Gotta pitch that idea to someone. On second thought, go ahead and steal it. It will save me the hassle, improve network programming, and I won't have to get up.

So I hope it works out for Rob and Amber, inasmuch I would wish anyone the incredible luck that I've enjoyed so far in my charmed existence. But not because I particularly like them. But come the fall sweeps, we'll probably be seeing them on Dr. Phil shortly before they break up.

As Dennis Miller would say, "I could be wrong".

Cheese out,

Tad

IRS: An outfit with vision

2005-05-25T13:24:00.000-07:00

"On my income tax 1040 it says 'Check this box if you are blind.' I wanted to put a check mark about three inches away." -- Tom Lehrer

The Six Flags dude.

2005-05-24T20:10:00.000-07:00

This guy really bugs. Doesn't he just give you the willies? Is it just me?

Done... for now.

2005-05-24T13:36:00.000-07:00

Finally back to work after the home improvement experience. Got the living room, hallway, and entry hall painted, the carpets shampooed, and the toilets cleaned. Better yet, had it all done in time for the baby shower my wife, Ms. Information, threw on Saturday. She got to show it off to her friends, who gave me the obligatory ooh and ahh. It doesn't take much to stroke the ol' ego as far as Tad Annoyed is concerned. I'm sure that her girlfriends are all jealous of my wife's spouse, and that they all went home to tell their husband about his shortcomings, and to give him a detailed honey-do list that might begin to make up for them. A hearty Hah Hah.

I'm glad to get back to the office so I can get some rest - sit in a comfortable chair and zone out in from of a pair of computer monitors all day. Something I do very well, thank you. Oh, and do some work in the meantime. All while keeping up with news, business, sports, weather, comics, and blogs. Who says I can't multitask. Oh yeah, I do.

It is interesting to me that I can feel more connected to the world while I am huddled alone in my office than when I'm out for a week, out there IN THE ACTUAL WORLD, with relatively little computer time. The internet just doesn't seem as interesting at home.

So here I sit, researching the next project. I think it will be tearing out some hideous wallpaper and replacing it with some wainscot and - ulp - more painting.

Ah, well. I do get much more satisfaction if I can do a passable job myself than if I pay someone to do it.

Modern Art.

2005-05-17T22:29:00.000-07:00

This entry is inspired by a recent blog by The Printing Press.

A few years back I visited the MOMA in San Francisco. There was some, in my totally amateur opinion, total crap. A 4-foot long shelf with nothing but toast on it. Not just one, but two separate pieces comprised of an empty transparent acrylic cube. One was entitled "Air". I forget what the other was titled, since I was too busy trying to suppress the laughter.

I always regarded my father as a great artist as he as always painted or sculpted in his spare time away from his dental practice. He has some ceramic pieces that are beautiful to me, and some that are not so much. On a number of occasions I had asked that he make something for my wife and me, as did many other friends and relatives. But he never did so by request. He would only do so when he was inspired to create something. In my estimation it was when he needed to express himself in ways that he did not want to verbalize. Any time I would ask him what his thoughts were behind one of his abstract pieces, he would answer by asking what I saw in it, because that is what it was meant to be. When expressing yourself with that kind of attitude, you can never be wrong.

He has had a much longer journey through life, and has his own unique set of baggage. It's his art that is his release, his escape, it is himself. And he has never needed an art school to tell him how to express himself.

He did give me one of his pieces. It had won him a blue ribbon at the county fair. People who think that their opinion of art has any importance might scoff. To them I would tell them that they don't get it.

In a similar manner, I should not scoff at what I saw in The San Francisco MOMA. I just didn't get it. What I saw said nothing to me. I tried to keep an open mind, but it was difficult. I didn't understand what the creators were trying to express, other than they had some extra bread left one day after breakfast, and were just trying to see what shit the folks at the MOMA would ooh and ahh over. I could imagine the following conversation occurring in at least two studios -

"Hey, have you seen my empty acrylic display box anywhere?"
"Oh, I thought it was a completed work and submitted it to the gallery for you."

I balk at calling them artists. My father is an artist.

Damn you, DIY Network!

2005-05-16T20:24:00.000-07:00

And Food TV, while we're at it.

I'm at the point in my life where, while I'm not exactly raking it in, I'm doing well enough to get digital cable TV. And among the 3000 channels that are available, Food TV and DIY Network are among the most sinister. They ought to make a special V-chip just for them.

If you're not familiar with these, I don't blame you. Approximately 2900 of the aforementioned 3000 channels are quality pay-per-view porn channels. Not that I would know. But these two in particular are evil in that they give any ordinary, everyday shlub with a modest disposable income a false sense of capability and know-how and the belief that a) hey - I can cook like that, despite the fact that I spent 14 fewer years studying at Le Cordon Bleu than the smarmy dude running all over the set yelling BAM, not realizing that his audience is cheering for the garlic, not him (although I suspect that if he were passed through an appropriately sized press they would go just as wild, having kicked it up yet another notch) and b) I can redo my living room in weekend for under $1000 and give it a trendy designer look.

Well, $169 and one day into it - the living room debacle - there's Ralph Lauren Chamois-colored paint (that's the color, the folks down at the wherehouse store kindly mixed it in some Behr quick-dry flat latex) all over my ceilings and carpets. Oh, yes, some happened to have made it onto the walls. The $1.57 dropcloths are still relatively clean though. I guess the reason they get $1000 budget on those weekend-makeover shows is to replace the carpeting, get new clothes, and get an industrial shampoo for their hair after the things start going badly.

The thing they don't show on these shows is that the production crew is comprised of a team of licensed-contractor set designers to whom building an entire house during their union-mandated cigarette break is child's play.

Oh well. I learned which end of the paint brush to hold after a couple of walls, so I'm well on my way up he learning curve, like that poor tugboat on the cover of that George Clooney movie I never rented. Perhaps it will be done by week's end, when the house will be full of partying women and babes -- don't get to excited, it's just a baby shower. I should have used oil-based paint with the fumes that kill bugs, that would keep the party short. At least I have a hard stop on my adventures in DIY ineptitude.

Maybe instead I ought to move forward with the painted carpet look, and send some naked photos of myself on it to Paige Davis. Nah, she probably gets about 250 of those everyday.

Never mind. I'm hungry. It's time to cook something.

Secret Message

2005-05-14T23:32:00.000-07:00

Congratulations. You have found the secret message. Thanks for being so curious. You also must have some serious time on your hands. Not that I do, but its kinda fun wasting it doing shit like this.

Didn't get called in to Jury Duty

2005-05-13T13:30:00.000-07:00

Dammit. Didn't get the call. No jury duty for Tad. Missed my chance to be a fingernail on the hand of Justice.

The damn convenience of a call-in system. First I had to call in last Friday after 5:00 for the possibility of reporting Monday. It tells me to call Monday at noon for the possibility of reporting at 1:00 PM. Can I make it there from work in time? (See my posting on Rush to Judgment) Should I even bother going in to work?

I go to the office, not taking on any assignments that might actually require me to be there the whole day. Might have to go on a moments notice, maybe I'll be needed to help decide a crucial legal decision. So I called in at 11:30 to see if they post the info early. They do. It tells me to call Tuesday at noon for the possibility of reporting at 1:00 that day. Here we go again.

I suppose that this is convenient. After all, I don't have to set foot in a courtroom and sit around for hours. But then, I feel that I can't really do my job to the fullest extent. Having to report might get me on a panel and keep me there for weeks. Can't schedule meetings. Can't schedule doctor appointments. Really convenient.

Of course, I do have the option of calling them up and arranging to come in on a specified day and sit on my ass in their waiting room in case I'm needed. That would make a day at the DMV seem like a trip to Disneyland. Even though I would have my favorite reading material, boredom would eventually cause my neck to open up at some point and swallow my head whole. I hate it when that happens.

Called in Tuesday. Same status. Cool, kinda. Two days down. Odds of getting picked going down.

Called in Wednesday. Some groups were summoned, mine was not. Have to call in Thursday. Uhoh. The sudden activity means that they're not just sitting on their hands at the courtroom. Has the odds of being asked to come in gone up, or down? Now I'm fearing that I'll get called in on Friday and saddled into a week long trial, sabotaging my vacation. arrrgh...

Called in Thursday. I get notified that my service will not be required. Woohoo!, and yet, . Kinda bittersweet. Now I'm perversely waiting from my next Christmas card from the county saying that they need me to help make an important decision.

Don't they realize the emotional ringer they've put me through? I'm thinking of sueing for emotional distress. Now I'll have to follow through on my threats to paint the living room and hall next week.

Today is the day I shall blog in orange.

2005-05-12T22:58:00.000-07:00

Uh, mission accomplished.

Do the Right Thing

2005-05-11T16:30:00.000-07:00

The technology company where I work has this award they give out called the "Do the Right Thing" award. The line is that they wish to recognize and reinforce that it is good to act with integrity when we come to work. C'mon, we're not lawyers. But what is laughable is the reasons that some people get nominated for this "honor".

For instance, a director of customer support was nominated because he "resolved an installation problem with an end user. He identified the problem and was able to troubleshoot. The customer was up and running within minutes. " Excuse me, but isn't that his f*#!ing job? Nothing against this guy, he is a stand-up guy (If you know me, it's not the guy you think it is). But I do this job 8 times a day, and nobody nominates me for the "Showing up to work" award. Sheesh.

And then, I see our that HR director, who has helped sink our HR department to the lowest depths of any for which I have worked in my 20 year career, is nominated as well. This person is up for this honor because our lease expired, and this person had to travel to Sunny Southern California from their landfill in New Jersey and renegotiate it. And that they did, for a third less space, creating a hazardous construction zone in the office for 3 months before moving most people from their cozy offices into cubicles, lowering morale by the minute. But, this person saved the company a couple of shekels, so they are up for the "Did my f*#!ing job AND piss off the people I'm responsible for looking out for" award.

(I know that this would read a lot better if it were gender specific, I hate using "they" or "he/she". But I am also Tad Paranoid.)

The corporate culture that upper management wants us to buy into can be summarized nicely by our internal web site's listing of our basic beliefs (after all, it's not just a job, it's a religion!):

Our corporate culture is characterized by five basic values:
Customer First
Excellens in Execution
Sense of Urgency
Do the right thing
Passion & Fun

Using a spell checker on a regular basis must have come in sixth and just missed being included. Guess it isn't so urgent. The funny thing is that 3 years ago they mass-printed desktop calendars for our customers, featuring a different motivational phrase each month. February's was "Excellenc (sic) - Anything worth doing is worth doing well." Like learning from past mistakes.

One of my colleagues, for whom I have a great deal of respect, once postulated "There are very few true geniuses in this world. What are the odds that any of them are running this company?" Hear hear. If they did, I'm confident that they wouldn't settle for a position in HR.

Waiting for the fun to start.

Rush to Judgment

2005-05-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

Tad has jury duty. Time to perform some civil disservice. I've gotta call in at noon, to see if I have to haul ass, if such a thing is possible on my beloved 405, for 20 miles to arrive at 1:00 PM and do some waiting. Don't like the inability to plan my day though. That's OK, I had the foresight to go to Amazon.com a couple of weeks ago to make sure I'm covered in the interesting reading department.

I kinda hope I get called in. But not for long, though. I've got a sit-on-my-ass vacation coming next week. For the record, it's supposed to be a paint-the-living-room-and-hall vacation, your honor.

I've never made it into an actual courtroom before, at least as a juror. (Don't ask. It wasn't about me, I just don't want to talk about it.) I'm Looking forward to imposing my views on how litigious our society is by not letting some whiner get away with a reward for any kind of "emotional distress".

When will people realize that emotions are things that they own, and they are possible to control, if not at least manage. When someone does you wrong - which is a personal judgment to begin with - and it causes you "emotional distress", you are admitting that you are not strong enough to take responsibility for how you feel about yourself, and, on top of that, that you should be rewarded monetarily for your own shortcoming.

I suppose it's because I've always believed in taking responsibility for my own problems, and I expect others to do the same. Look, don't stand on the top step of the ladder. I don't care whether it's labeled or not. And don't put the cup of coffee between your legs as you drive. Of course it's hot, moron.

Besides, the Government already provides a much easier way to get your hands on scads of money that you didn't earn. It's called the lottery. And if you think that it costs too much to buy enough tickets to improve your odds of winning, just wait until you get that bill for the retainer fee. And then you might not even win your case. Which just might give you another case of emotional distress.

Buuurp...

2005-05-06T15:18:00.000-07:00

Today I ate an entire box of Healthy Choice ice cream bars.

I'm not so sure it was a healthy choice.

Have a Nice Day. Somewhere Else.

2005-05-05T11:47:00.000-07:00

OK, I know you must have had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. So did I. I should have left 10 minutes earlier than I did, so I know the feeling. Your mind is kind of hazy as you merge onto the 405 in stop-and-go traffic. You must be alert and with it to some degree, I figure, because you take the extra effort to pass a number of cars on the right shoulder before merging in front of me. So I let you in. I figure you're motivated to get where you need to be in a hurry if you're riding the shoulder. And I don't want to be an asshole or anything, after all, there has been a rash of freeway shootings lately. Don't want to chance it.

BUT THEN, your mind turns OFF. All motivation you had to get to your crummy job has suddenly left the planet. You are now incapable of keeping up with the 20 MPH crawl. Old women in walkers are now cutting in front of you like you're their bitch. And I'm stuck behind you.

Mind you, I'm not in that much of a rush to get to work, hell, it's not like I'm a bikini inspector at the brewery or anything. But dammit, YOU are now wasting MY time. WTF? You're not even on the phone! (Don't get me started on that.)
Uh-oh. I'm getting a little too close to your bumper, and you happen to come out of you coma long enough to accidentally look in you rear-view mirror. Now it's a game. No brake lights, however, you just ease off the gas. Shit. Can't get around you, traffic in the next lane is doing 80. I hit my brakes while noticing the scowl on th e guy behind me. Somehow he's able to get over.

Sigh. I realize that I've just given you all control of my thoughts and emotions. I hate not having control. Funny how I can give it up so easily.

After that realization, it gets less interesting than this rant has been so far. I wait for an opening in the next lane, which seemed to take until Wednesday. Freedom at last. I cut you off just to make a point. You have no more control over me. Or do you?