Dispositional Shift

Ups and Downs

2007-06-14T21:50:00.000-04:00

As usual, a lot has happened since my last post. I can't seem to piece together a cohesive post, so here are the interesting bits.

Travel

Emma, Alicia and I went to Rachel and Aaron's wedding in West Palm Beach, Florida. It was a beautiful wedding in a beautiful place-- with beautiful flowers! Alicia was terribly busy with the flowers and being a Matron of Honor, so we didn't get to do the beach thing. I still managed to get a sunburn, though. I met lots of cool people, too. All in all, it was time well spent.
I was in Longmont, Colorado for several days for work at the beginning of June. I nearly didn't make it because I missed my flight due to an awful accident on I40, but Southwest managed to get me there. I toured Seagate's R&D facility, learned how they make the new rugged hard drives we just started selling, and climbed a mountain. Ok, so most of the mountain climbing was done in a car, but I did go to Rocky Mountain National Park and did a bit of hiking. Most of the trails were still snowed over, but I did hike up to a 12,005' elevation site. It was tougher than I expected! It was windy, winding, cold and snowy. There wasn't all that much oxygen, either. I managed to drag my big self up there and enjoy the view for a while. Then I went back down the mountain and watched the elk for a while.
I visited my parents in Wilmington, North Carolina a couple of times, too. It's a fairly short three hour drive, and I always manage to feel recharged when I go there. I visited with my grandmother while I was there. She's looking more frail than ever, but her spirits seemed to be higher than previous visits this year.

Other stuff:

I started playing EverQuest again. This is starting to turn into kind of an annual thing. Alicia and I play for three or four months when we are trying to save money. It's cheap, fun and keeps us from going out and blowing money on big dinners and entertainment. If anyone is concerned about my ability to control myself, worry not. If anyone asks, though, I might say I'm playing WoW. That just seems more socially acceptable.
It seems like I'm getting more responsibilities at work. Or maybe I'm just imagining things. Either way they're putting me on the road more and I'm spending more time with important vendors and clients. I hope it keeps up.
I'm sleepy.

I need one of these.

2007-04-19T10:25:00.001-04:00

Alicia and I have put a lot of thought into building a new house.  The old one is...well, old.  I'm lobbying hard for a personal retreat, and this is just what I need for the entrance.  I've always wanted a secret door!

5-4 the SCOTUS says, "Die Fornicators!"

2007-04-18T16:33:00.001-04:00

I tend to stay well away from political issues in this blog. Once I speculated with Jenny that keeping non-political was why I'm often quiet. This, however, is something that must be discussed. Today five men decided the fate of a bunch of babies. Sounds great, right? Not so fast. By doing so, these men are also preventing women in life-threatening situations from life-saving surgery. You can read more here, but be warned: there is strong language and imagery.

Babies are snuggly, sweet little noise machines and they often grow up into lovely people. I'm very fond of babies. But wouldn't a living, breathing woman be better than a motherless baby with little chance of survival?

I'm on fire!

2007-03-21T11:28:00.001-04:00

Three posts within a month. If that's not some intense bloggification, I dunno what is! That's not why I'm on fire, though. I'm trying this new (to me) Firefox extension called ScribeFire. It adds a friendly little notepad icon in the corner of the Firefox window that brings up a fully featured blog editor with drag and drop support. If it sounds familiar, you may know it by its former name "Performancing." Names aside, maybe this is just what I need to make my posts less texty and more sexy. And more frequent.

In transit

2007-02-28T14:02:00.000-05:00

3:30am comes early. It comes extra early when a guy is leaving on his first real business trip. My bags were packed for a three day stay in sunny San Diego. My alarm clock was set. I crawled into bed, more than a little apprehensive about what the next day would hold for me.

I launched out of bed when the alarm went off! …so I could turn it off and go back to sleep. I sat back in the bed for a moment, wondering if anyone would notice if I missed my flight and just stayed at home and slept for a few days. I shrugged, resigned to my fate, and climbed out of bed. Alicia dragged herself out of bed shortly after me, and looked on in mock disgust as I ate a pair of overdone waffles for breakfast. It might have been mock disgust, anyway. She could have been nodding off. I printed a copy of my itinerary, checked for flight delays and decided to skip online check-in so I could try out the fancy computerized kiosks at the airport.

After narrowly missing no less than two rabbits, fourteen deer and a grizzled possum, we made it to the relative safety of I-40 and arrived at the airport in a most timely fashion. I checked in, strolled to security and presented my belongings to the privacy invasion agency. Shoes off, in a bin! All liquid, gel, non-solid and potentially damp-smelly-moist-squishy stuff in quantities no greater than three ounces in a quart-sized plastic bag. In the x-ray machine, not in the agent’s hand! Laptop out and in a bin. Jacket off, in a bin! Bags placed at a reasonable distance from each other—SIR! Is that a metal belt buckle? IN A BIN, THROUGH THE MACHINE! Obey. Obey! OBEY!

I felt like I’d been processed for a life of enslavement by a squadron of Daleks. Unbelted and barefoot, my pants yearned to become glorified ankle warmers. I staggered through to the collection point and struggled to simultaneously gather my belongings and my dignity. I pulled myself together in the bathroom and jogged down to the last gate where my flight was just announcing final boarding. I had an assigned seat, but I slipped into line between an elderly couple and a pregnant porn starlet. I had to keep my skills sharp for future cattle call flights and my eventual entry in The Amazing Race! No one noticed, which must mean that I’m awfully smooth. Or that it was 5:45am and no one was awake enough to care.

On the first leg, Kevin Costner woodenly cheesed his way through The Guardian and defended the lives of idiots and the good name of puddle pirates everywhere. I nibbled on raisins and sipped orange juice. Ahh, the Continental (airlines) breakfast! An old man strode heedless of the fasten seatbelts sign to the rear of the craft. I wasn’t sure if he was bound for the head or to berate one of the hostesses for the poor breakfast, but another geriatric followed him. Others came too. One by one they returned, all but the two old folks. Like my ankles, my bladder was swollen. I had to go too! I unbuckled, slid past an airline hostess and bounded for the pair of aft lavatories. Both were occupied. From the right were the sounds of someone struggling with a mighty load. From the left were… other sounds. I was practically pissing myself and those old people were scrogging in the shitter! I realize that septuagenarians have sex too, and that they have just as much of a right to scratch off items on their “Things to do before I die” list, but ew! Ew! Ewwww! They finally emerged, red-faced and avoided my knowing eyes, and those of everyone else nearby. I relieved myself and returned to my aisle seat next to Carlos and Charlie as they grumbled quietly in Spanish about the fat bastard sitting next to them. I should have skipped my pre-flight shower so they would have had more to bitch about. They were mightily surprised when I asked them if they knew of any good places to grab a beer in Houston. In Spanish.

My Latino seatmates never answered my question, and I never got to find out. I had less than an hour to get from one end of the airport to the other. One train, a tram, three people movers and two escalators later, I jogged down a jetway and slumped down into my seat. “Lo siento senor,” I apologized in advance to the brown skinned fellow in the middle seat. “Eh?” he replied. “Not good English… Saudi Arabia.” Aha! No wonder people kept looking at the guy funny. As our Boeing 737-900 sped down the runway, he whispered “Not good… fly.”

Ding-diiing! “This is your captain speaking. I have illuminated the fasten seatbelts signs, as we are entering some rough air. We’ll be in beautiful San Diego in a little less than an hour. Hang in there and you’ll be enjoying the sunny city or well on your way to the city or country of your final destination!” My seatmate was sweating. More people were looking at him. Not just quick glances, but full blown sideways stares. We began our final descent into San Diego. The jet shuddered and bounced like a bag of microwave popcorn. The recipient of so many stares to my left started opening and closing his hands spasmodically and murmuring “Allahu akhbar!” under his breath. People were whispering. He was shaking. I slammed my hand down over top of his and looked him in the eye. “Listen,” I began. “You have to calm down. We’ll be on the ground in ten minutes. Got it?” He twisted his hand around and squeezed my fingers. I looked away. He didn’t let go for the next ten minutes. He did shut up, though, until we were safely on the ground. “Thank you!” he said. I nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

Welcome back!

2007-02-28T14:00:00.000-05:00

Thanks to a certain Bunny, it's looking pretty good around here. I'll try to keep it up a little better this time around. Cheers!

I need a new body

2006-07-15T21:30:00.000-04:00

Ten years ago my favorite television program returned after a long hiatus for one night only. The Doctor Who movie wasn't anything spectacular, and most fans choose to forget it. That's much easier to do now that we've seen more than two dozen episodes of the spectacular new series, but one bit of the 1996 movie still sticks with me. The Master, played by Eric Roberts (yes, that Eric Robers), was dying. His borrowed body crumbling around him, he insisted, "I. Need. A new. Body!"

That's me. Not that I'm particularly villainous, nor am I stumbling around in a stolen body, but I sure could use a new one. I probably wouldn't feel so bad about it if I didn't need a tailor. Or surgery.

The Misshapen Donnie

I bought a suit two weeks ago. It's a nice-looking single breasted black suit with a charcoal pinstripe. I like it, and it's a good thing that I do. It's the only one I could find that fit me! Finding shoes was harder. The only dressy shoes I own are brown and have seen better days, so they aren't the best match for my sharp new suit. I wear a 15EEEE which are few and far between. We struck out at all of the local shoe and department stores, so I'm resorting to mail order. My new black captoe oxfords-- not my first, second or third choice!-- will arrive on Tuesday. That's just four days before the occasion at which I'm wearing them, so they'd better fit.

At least I did manage to find a suit and shoes somewhere. Shirts are a different story. I have a 21" neck, 54" chest, 47" waist and 27" sleeves. Shirts are only manufactured in 20" and 22" neck sizes, which translate to a 5X and 6X respectively. That means that in order for a shirt to fit me in the neck, it's three or four sizes too big in the chest. Also, most designers expect men in larger sizes to be a sort of O-shape. I'm more of a V-shape, which means the bottom of the shirt bells out for the expected 72" waist. I think that bears repeating: my shirts have a seventy-two inch waist. Holy shit. I'm a big guy, but I shouldn't have to wear a tent! I picked up a couple of 22" neck shirts in hopes that the alterations place doing the hem and cuff on my suit pants will be able to take in the shirts a bit. It looks like they'll be able to take in six inches on each side, which should make them look better on me. I hope.

I think I need to build a good relationship with a tailor. How does one do that? Does anyone in the 21st century use a tailor anymore? Anyone besides P.Diddy or whatever he calls himself this week? The word tailor sounds expensive. I've got other things to spend money on, for now...

The warranty is out

I get as many sinus infections, ear infections and bouts with bronchitis in a year as most people get in a lifetime. Every year my allergies get worse. Antibiotics, antihistimines, histimine blockers and other remedies help, but my doctor and I decided that it was time to investigate the root of the problem. I had an appointment with the renowned Dr. Pillsbury at the UNC Hospital ENT clinic. He is the head surgeon and the same guy that did my one and only previous surgery, a tonsillectomy ten years ago. I think he was pretty pleased that I recognized him. We weren't able to do any allergy testing since no one bothered to tell me that you can't take allergy meds for a week prior to testing. Dr. Pillsbury was good enough to ask me about my medical history, look up my nose and explain that I have a badly deviated septum and enlarged turbinates. He mentioned a CT sinus scan for a future visit, asked me to reschedule the allergy test, shook my hand and told me he'd see me soon. He was done in five minutes. I'm going back on August 3rd. I hope that visit is more in-depth. The allergy test scares me a bit, but not because I'm worried about a few pricks. If that was the case, I wouldn't go to the doctor's office in the first place. Or out in public, for that matter.

If I need to get a septoplasty to fix my nose up so I'm no longer a dirty mouth-breather, I can look forward to a few hundred dollars of fees that aren't covered by insurance. A few hundred more if I need to get an inferior turbinate reduction. And a few hundred more if I need to get some rhinoplasty thrown in to patch up years of wear and tear from wearing heavy eyeglasses. There is a problem with all this, though. Septoplasty patients can't wear eyeglasses for six weeks following surgery. I can't see without glasses. I don't know if I can wear contacts due to some scarring on my eye from a childhood accident. I might have to get lasik surgery before I can get surgery. If that's the case, that rings up my out of pocket costs to the $3500 range. I think I need to start selling stuff from around the house or get another job. Maybe I shouldn't have bought that suit. I've got to look halfway decent for my class reunion, though. More on that next week, I've rambled too much tonight.

Oh happy day

2006-07-03T11:12:00.000-04:00

Jenny tagged me with this meme thingie. I had a pretty good time reading about all the strange things that have happened on my birthday. These are some of the more noteworthy happenings.

Instructions:
1. Go to Wikipedia.
2. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year).
3. List three events that happened on your birthday.
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death.
5. One holiday or observance (if any).

My birthday: March 10th

Events
1804 - Louisiana Purchase: In St. Louis, a formal ceremony is conducted to transfer ownership of Louisiana Territory from France to the United States.
1977 - Rings of Uranus: Astronomers discover rings around Uranus.
2000 - The NASDAQ stock market index peaks at 5048.62, signaling the beginning of the end of the dot-com boom.

Birthdays
1940 - Chuck Norris, American actor and martial artist
1957 - Osama bin Laden, Saudi-born Islamic extremist

Death
1913 - Harriet Tubman, American abolitionist (b. 1820)

Holiday
Fans of video game character Mario celebrate Mar10 Day, by singing songs about him, watching the movie and show, and playing Mario games.

Wow. It has all the trimmings of a major motion picture. An American icon, a villanous terrorist, a freedom fighter, a bursting bubble, new territories, other worlds and a mushroom munching super plumber. My birthday rocks! There were a bunch of earthquakes on that day, too. My birthday really rocks!

I read the news today, oh boy

2006-05-15T23:45:00.000-04:00

I love reading the news. There's nothing like seeing how screwed up the world is to make you feel better about whatever petty crap is going on in your life.

"SHOCK: Bears Eat Monkey in Front of Zoo Visitors." See, there's this thing called "nature." Yep.

"Orgy of Violence in Sao Paolo kills 80 Brazilians." Which is it? Eighty of them, or brazilians of them?

"Team Captain says he is 'absolutely innocent.'" Special thanks to the NSA wiretaps.

"Pentagon Releases Gitmo Detainees' Names..." They're all named Mohamed. Don't ask why they're not releasing their photos.

"Bush vows to secure border." Hmm, I think border patrol might be on his level.

Headlines courtesy of The Drudge Report, your source for completely biased news.

My TV Debut

2006-02-13T14:14:00.000-05:00

Just in case you missed it, this is the news story from around Thanksgiving in which I commented on road construction and stuff. Click the picture below to behold me in my unkempt glory!

I Keep Me In Stitches

2005-12-28T17:42:00.000-05:00

Warning: medical/trauma stuff ahead. Also, please forgive any typos. I'm typing one-handed.

Alicia received a six pound honey baked ham from her employer for Christmas. She also received a very nice, very sharp set of knives. I was cutting and packing the rest of the ham to freeze for a later date, using the lovely new eight inch chef's knife. A ham is slightly awkward, and a fork wasn't working to steady it for the last few slices, so I held the bone firmly in my right hand. The cuts were quick and true, and I was almost finished when the heel of the blade hit upon the other end of the bone. The heavy blade, its handle lubricated by the sweet pork juices --that sounds awful, doesn't it? -- slipped free of my grasp and shot upward. Everything slowed down. I saw the knife coming down like a wicked guillotine toward the side of my hand. I let go of the bone as if it had become a small sun, and pulled back as quickly as I could. The knife struck home; not where it would have at the place my right index finger meets the palm, but one knuckle up.

Much blood. Oh no!

I somehow caught the slippery knife in my left hand and flicked it into the sink basin, turning on the faucet in the same motion. The chilly water rushed over my hand, flushing away the crimson so I could see the extent of my injuries.

Finger not severed. Oh yes!

You know your day isn't going well when you're celebrating the fact that your finger hasn't been cut off. I applied first aid for forty-five minutes. The next forty-five were spent discussing the injury with a nurse at my doctor's office and then pulling myself together --literally!-- for a journey to the emergency room. I didn't have any latex free bandages, so I improvised with a some gauze and masking tape. I managed a shower with a plastic grocery store bag and more masking tape. Geoff, my father-in-law, took me to UNC Hospital and provided tons of moral support. It was a good bonding experience for us. After a short wait, a gorgeous nurse practitioner named Sarah patched me up and kept me entertained all the while with some hockey talk. I'd love to chat with her again sometime, but I'd prefer to do it over a drink, and not a suture kit.

I'm back in one piece now, although my finger won't be usable for several days. This is the first time I've ever had stitches, so I'm not sure what to expect, but it's been more of a humorous occasion than anything else. And now, it's time for painkillers.

Cheers!

Dribs and Drabs

2005-12-28T01:10:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas! Happy Chanukah! Happy Yule! Blessed Solstice! Kickass Kwanzaa! I'm back like cancer.

Spielberg's Munich wasn't bad, aside from nearly dying of old age before it ended.

I'm playing EverQuest again. In moderation. Seriously.

An acquaintance of mine was carjacked. In Carrboro. Carrjacked?

I've reconnected with a ton of old friends through MySpace. It's too bad the site looks and acts like it was designed by that room full of monkeys that are trying to write Shakespeare...

If you've given up on me updating this, don't worry. I did too! I should get one of the ghosts that lives (deads?) on my front porch to write it for me.

Acquaintance is damned hard to spell. And dude. Dude. Ross got carjacked. In Carrboro.

Fox cancelling Kitchen Confidential was criminal, it was just getting good. They only aired 4 episodes, but 13 were produced. A DVD release would be very nice.

New TransFormers comic book comes out next month! I picked up the preview issue today while hanging out in Chapel Hill with Ian pretending we were teenagers again.

Continuing the return to childhood theme, the Doctor Who special episode "The Christmas Invasion" rocked like no Doctor Who Christmas Special has rocked before. Granted, it's the only one, but it was still mighty good.

We got a honey baked ham for Christmas. I hear it calling my name.

Cheers.

Say it to my face

2005-09-29T22:18:00.000-04:00

There's a whole lot of drama going on.

It started several weeks ago with a new washer and dryer. Simple enough. The delivery company arrived to deliver them, but there was no convenient turnaround location, so they backed their very large truck down the driveway in order to try to reverse up it. Nevermind that they were already in front of the house and didn't bother to take the new appliances out. Once they were at the bottom of the drive, they decided it was too dangerous to back up it, and opted to try to re-deliver in a smaller truck. We received a call later that day: no smaller truck available. Can we meet them at the end of the driveway with a pickup truck. If we had a pickup truck available, would we have bothered to pay fifty American dollars for a delivery fee?

Alicia and her brother Adam ended up driving to Raleigh to the nearest Home Delivery America office, where the washer and dryer were being held hostage. They picked them up and we set them up without any assistance or old appliance disposal service from the useless delivery company. After some negotiations with Home Depot, the delivery charge was reversed. This appeared to be the end of the saga for a while, but something else came up-- if the morons from Home Delivery America couldn't make it up the driveway without staining their underwear, how were we supposed to get heating oil delivered this year? Nevermind that heating oil has surpassed three dollars a gallon. If I happen to knock over a liquor store, or if the heavens tear open and money starts raining down on me, I might need to accomodate a truck bearing number two fuel oil.

Ginger, Alicia's mom, happened to be setting up a new homeowners policy on the family property, a stretch that includes this house, their house and her late mother's house. She needed to provide photographic evidence that all of the houses exist, and are still standing in relatively good order. In an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, she got Adam, Bobby the foreman/handyman and Jeff the family friend to come out with a bobcat to do some grading, clearing and general cleanup outside the house. For those that know me well, this was very necessary. Several years ago, we were offered the chance to move into this house rent-free-- all we had to do was make it livable. It'd been abandoned to the wilderness for well over a decade before then, so we had our work cut out for us. Unfortunately, we only had about six thousand dollars to spend on this project, most of which went to plumbing work. The exterior of the house has been sorely neglected, and to make matters worse, we had gone through a pair each of barely working hand-me-down washers and dryers, all of which were sitting behind the house. All of which would have been removed if Home Delivery America had bothered to attempt to deliver the washer and dryer.

The guys arrived yesterday morning to do the clearing and grading work. They chainsawed away at the massive hulk of an oak tree that had tumbled into the woods in a storm last summer. They scraped the driveway and made it passable. Around the entire house, they plowed, pushed, dragged, piled and flattened. They did a great job. They even cleared half an acre adjacent to our house-- a real place to turn around. Hell, there's enough room there for an entire new house. We'd asked for years what it would cost to get someone out to do this sort of thing and were always shot down. "It's not your property, just leave it alone." About the driveway: "That thing has Chapel Hill Grit on it. It doesn't need any work." We tried to do as much by hand as possible, but with everything else going on in our lives its seemed an insurmountable task. We appreciate the work more than anyone could imagine. After all, we do have to live here.

Before we had an opportunity to thank anyone, however, the mouths started running. Before we knew it, half of Alicia's extended family was running their mouth about how we live in a hovel. It was like a grade school game of telephone, and the further down the chain it went, the worse it became. Every window is broken out! Hundreds of mangy dogs roam the property! A ten foot tall pile of garbage stands spewing flies by the back door! Dozens of disabled vehicles and discarded appliances rust at every turn! Hazardous waste to rival the 9th Ward of Orleans Parish covers the ground as far as the eye can see!

Alicia's parents heard about this before we did, and evidently it got ugly. Uglier than the things that were said about us. I've never in my life dreamed that they'd take a moment to defend me or Alicia in any way, but they certainly made me think twice about how they feel about us. I don't know exactly what happened, but I've heard things that made me raise my eyebrows. Things that may take a long time for some people to get over.

Things that wouldn't have happened if someone had just bothered to let me know they had a problem. If only they'd said it to my face...

This one is serious.

2005-08-28T14:25:00.000-04:00

Hurricane Katrina will be the fourth Category 5 hurricane to strike the continental United States. The referenced warning speaks volumes about the danger this storm brings. I have quoted the more poignant portion of the National Weather Service dispatch in case the link expires.

HURRICANE KATRINA
A MOST POWERFUL HURRICANE WITH UNPRECEDENTED STRENGTH...RIVALING THE INTENSITY OF HURRICANE CAMILLE OF 1969.

MOST OF THE AREA WILL BE UNINHABITABLE FOR WEEKS...PERHAPS LONGER. AT LEAST ONE HALF OF WELL CONSTRUCTED HOMES WILL HAVE ROOF AND WALL
FAILURE. ALL GABLED ROOFS WILL FAIL...LEAVING THOSE HOMES SEVERELY DAMAGED OR DESTROYED.

THE MAJORITY OF INDUSTRIAL BUILDINGS WILL BECOME NON FUNCTIONAL. PARTIAL TO COMPLETE WALL AND ROOF FAILURE IS EXPECTED. ALL WOOD
FRAMED LOW RISING APARTMENT BUILDINGS WILL BE DESTROYED. CONCRETE BLOCK LOW RISE APARTMENTS WILL SUSTAIN MAJOR DAMAGE...INCLUDING SOME
WALL AND ROOF FAILURE.

HIGH RISE OFFICE AND APARTMENT BUILDINGS WILL SWAY DANGEROUSLY...A FEW TO THE POINT OF TOTAL COLLAPSE. ALL WINDOWS WILL BLOW OUT.

AIRBORNE DEBRIS WILL BE WIDESPREAD...AND MAY INCLUDE HEAVY ITEMS SUCH AS HOUSEHOLD APPLIANCES AND EVEN LIGHT VEHICLES. SPORT UTILITY
VEHICLES AND LIGHT TRUCKS WILL BE MOVED. THE BLOWN DEBRIS WILL CREATE ADDITIONAL DESTRUCTION. PERSONS...PETS...AND LIVESTOCK EXPOSED TO THE
WINDS WILL FACE CERTAIN DEATH IF STRUCK.

POWER OUTAGES WILL LAST FOR WEEKS...AS MOST POWER POLES WILL BE DOWN AND TRANSFORMERS DESTROYED. WATER SHORTAGES WILL MAKE HUMAN SUFFERING
INCREDIBLE BY MODERN STANDARDS.

THE VAST MAJORITY OF NATIVE TREES WILL BE SNAPPED OR UPROOTED. ONLY THE HEARTIEST WILL REMAIN STANDING...BUT BE TOTALLY DEFOLIATED. FEW
CROPS WILL REMAIN. LIVESTOCK LEFT EXPOSED TO THE WINDS WILL BE KILLED.

AN INLAND HURRICANE WIND WARNING IS ISSUED WHEN SUSTAINED WINDS NEAR HURRICANE FORCE...OR FREQUENT GUSTS AT OR ABOVE HURRICANE FORCE...ARE
CERTAIN WITHIN THE NEXT 12 TO 24 HOURS.

ONCE TROPICAL STORM AND HURRICANE FORCE WINDS ONSET...DO NOT VENTURE OUTSIDE!

Slush Drawer No More

2005-08-27T17:58:00.000-04:00

New look, new name, same Donnie-- but the name does reflect change. It can mean all sorts of things, and it's meant to be ambiguous. More on the name another time. For now, I'm headed next door to do laundry. The washing machine died a loud and painful death recently, so it's off to the in-laws' house to ensure Alicia, Emma and I have clothes for the coming week.

Cheers!

TV Blogging Redux

2005-08-03T21:23:00.000-04:00

TV Blogging Redux

It seems I am not the only one who felt so strongly about Tara's awful performance. Tonight, INXS told her to hit the road. This move makes it much more likely that I watch again next week. In other television news, tonight I learned that my favorite CSI: New York character will be written out of the show. I don't think anyone that reads this blog is a fan of CSI: NY, but I'll keep the details under my hat so I don't spoil it-- just in case.

Blogging TV

2005-08-02T22:52:00.000-04:00

Blogging TV

Rock Star: INXS is a Mark Burnett reality series that chronicles the convoluted audition process of a replacement singer for the band INXS. The would-be rock stars have big shoes to fill; the late Michael Hutchence had presence and talent. I absolutely hate American Idol and all the vocal wankery exhibited there, and this is a nice contrast. Rock Star does suffer from minor oversaturation, occupying two hours of weekly prime time television spread across Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I caught the latter half of tonight's episode, and I have to rant about one of the performances.

Tara Sloan. There was nothing to enjoy about this girl and her song at all. She looked like she selected her wardrobe in the dark and from a rack of clothes two sizes too small. She sings without soul, joy or stop-plosives. For the love of God, woman, learn how to enunciate. That, or never get in front of a microphone again. Seriously. Shit.

Ok, I'm done.

Game on!

2005-07-21T14:04:00.000-04:00

Game on!

TSN reports that the NHLPA has ratified the new Collective Bargaining Agreement. It's official: three months from now, I'll be helping to make the RBC Center the loudest arena in the NHL. Go Canes!

Tear Down the Wall

2005-07-11T12:12:00.000-04:00

Tear Down the Wall

With a slightly quavering voice, a giddy Roger Waters sang for the world on the Live 8 stage. Behind him, a winged pig soared through the sky on a massive video screen. Pink Floyd took the Hyde Park stage with their formerly estranged bandmate in the most significant performance in recent rock history. The brief set at Live 8 was billed as a one-time event, a discarding of enmity to heighten awareness of the poverty and suffering of the peoples of Africa. It would be foolish to think that a few old men on a stage could be more important than the African tribulation, but for twenty minutes on the second day of July, Africa was the farthest thing from many minds.

A's, B's and many C's of Reality TV

2005-07-10T23:25:00.000-04:00

A's, B's, and many C's of Reality TV

Lately I've been under the weather. That is, the weather is kicking my ass, and I've felt no small discomfort from an ongoing series of dental problems. With the heat and humidity making it unbearable to do much of anything, and my prescription pain-killers preventing me from doing anything that involves anything resembling coherent thought, I thought it was time to get a taste of something I've missed out on in the past few years: Reality Television. Thanks to Blockbuster's online DVD rental service and a certain notorious P2P filesharing program, I've plunged wholesale into the manufactured reality of Survivor, The Amazing Race, Hell's Kitchen, Survivor UK, Big Brother and a few of their poorer cousins; The Real Gilligan's Island, Love Cruise and more.

What I've discovered is intriguing. This programming is gripping, and yet gratuitously pointless. The concept is simple: don't hire actors, just select unpaid applicants willing to take part in the "experience." Leveraging inexpensive equipment and the simplest production values, document every detail of the lives of the participants before, during and following the scripted events. Edit together the juiciest, meatiest tidbits for prime time audiences, throw in a million dollars to the person that makes it to the end, and you've got yourself a program. The winner isn't the "sole Survivor," the winner of the race or the viewers-- this is all about the bottom line for the broadcasters, and this is how they do it.

Animosity - In tense situations, even the finest of friends will find themselves in a fight. Put perfect strangers into similar circumstances and the events will make for exciting, if not quality, television.

Alternative lifestyles - Tell me, have you seen a reality show without a token gay guy, or whiny vegetarian?

Bloodthirst - Using camera-born innuendo and sly editing tricks, put the audience in a front row seat as the contestants butcher fowl, hogs, caiman and take their frustrations out on coconuts. Don't worry about looking away at the last minute, though, in this flavor of reality, the program handles that detail for you.

Bitchiness - What do you get when you combine our two A's? Another A: all-out-bitchfests. A meeting of the mouths to last precisely one half of a viewing season, contestants will not fail to find reasons to hate each other. There are times when certain groups of people truly seem to love each other, like Survivor: Marquesas after Boston Rob got the boot, but even then, the happiest of housemates will always break down as their reality comes crashing toward an end.

Cameras - Cameras are one of the biggest expenses for reality programs. Some call for remote controlled rotating, auto-focusing monstrosities in every conceivable location, while others load up on evening-news style battery powered units. The goal is always the same though: as many eyes as possible.
Challenges - Give the participants an activity to stir emotions, test their limits and drive their competition into the ground.

Chickens - Like the token homosexual, you simply can't have reality TV without some chickens. Whether they're dinner or the non-feathered variety that refuse to bungee jump and swallow wriggling worms, chicken is a staple here.

Chicks - The ladies rule in reality television. My friend Tarus is an avid Survivor fan, and has pointed out to me that each series has had one female whose sole purpose seems to be carriage for a massive rack. Not that I'm complaining; you wouldn't find me watching an all-male reality program.

Cheese - Less than skillful flirtation, grade school poetry, letters from home and unreal situations... there is nearly as much cheese as chicken to be found, which one would think might improve relations on the set of Hell's Kitchen.

Chemistry - Ahh, romance. If participants do manage to get along, the producers hope they'll get it on. Television romance is more fleeting than the career of a professional athlete, but that doesn't stop contestants from trying to find the love of their life on the boob tube.

Conflict - And sometimes things get physical. Reality television isn't supposed to be a contact sport, and the production companies will be sure to step in and settle a squabble that gets physical-- but not before they get some great footage.

Controversy - The most important C of all. All of the aforementioned elements of reality television lead to this, which fuels the buzz and pumps up the ratings. The most recent season of Charlie Parsons's brainchild stranded its Survivors in the Philippines in their street clothes. What's next, intentionally crashing a plane full of players into a mountainside to see who is cannibalized first? It's probably not too far off, but the host should hire a bodyguard; they'd probably be the first in the cookpot.

Soon

2005-07-06T19:50:00.000-04:00

Soon

I'm getting back on my feet after some medical stuff. I'll spare you the details... for now.

2005-05-12T19:00:00.000-04:00

When I rock the mic I rock the mic right.

2005-05-12T18:50:00.000-04:00

Typically one only sees cats asleep on top of a computer. Molly, my number one bitch, is seen here breaking new ground. She devotes as much time as possible making advances for canines everywhere, so long as she does not have to wake up. Or put forth any effort whatsoever. Actually, she might be a cat after all.

Cold hard cash

2005-04-27T23:02:00.000-04:00

Cold hard cash

Today the House of Representatives passed a bill to authorize the creation of a new one dollar coin. This coin will be a little different from the last two attempts, the ill-fated Susan B. Anthony dollar and the largely ignored Sacajawea dollar of 1999. Perhaps the third time will be the charm, since these new coins will follow the pattern of the very successful State Quarters series. The new coins will be released four per year starting in 2007. They will feature the visages of each President of the United States from Washington until the current President in the final run of the coins in 2018.

More information is available at CNN.

Atom feed

2005-04-27T10:08:00.000-04:00

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I'll eventually get this site working correctly in Firefox. Until then, you may wish to use the XML feed: http://dgsiii.blogspot.com/atom.xml. It is Atom formatted rather than RSS, but should work with most newsreaders. You can also syndicate it to your site, livejournal or whatever.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, check out this primer.