Jeff Kay's Blog, page 31

Stunt-Wiping: Have You Ever Been Forced To Use Something Other Than TP?

This is going to be a quickie, because my counterpart at work gets to go home as soon as I arrive. So, I’m feeling social pressure to get in there and put him out of his misery. The good news? I also get to leave early. It’s weird, ’cause yesterday felt like Saturday, and now here I am back in the work week — at the wrong end. I’m all discombobulated.

Anyway, a few days ago Toney asked me to pick up some toilet paper while I was out running some errands. Years ago I would’ve been embarrassed to make such a purchase, unless it was embedded inside a larger buy. Ya know? My attitude today is “That’s right, I wipe. In fact, I’m going to take this home right now, bust it open, and get to wiping like there’s no tomorrow.” For the record, I also bought a coconut cream pie. Rectum ribbon and pie. What of it?

And while I was there making my TP selection, I spotted the questionable stuff in the photo. 57 cents!? I sent the picture to Toney to see if it was acceptable, and she said I might want to go up a notch or two. Heh. I was thinking it would be like copier paper, but she said it would more likely be super-thin and dissolve upon contact. What do you guys think?

I went with a 12 pack of Cottonelle, which will probably be like using an angora rabbit. I don’t really know yet. I’m not keeping track.

In any case, I’d like know if any of you have ever been in a situation where you were forced to engage in stunt-wiping. You know, where you have to use something other than TP? I don’t think I have. It seems like I might have had to use the cardboard tube once or twice, for a final pass. But I’ve never had to use leaves, a shower curtain, socks, the spinning wheel of an exercise bike, or anything like that. How about you? Do you have any stories to tell on this subject?

Before I call it a weird day here, I want to remind you guys — once again — to please use our Amazon links to make your holiday (or personal!) purchases. Just click through any of them, like home[image error]

What Things Truly Cause You To Lose Your Mind? Not Minor Annoyances, But Fully Realized Anger

A few weeks ago I bought a new laptop. I just couldn’t take it anymore… The old one was so bogged down and clunky, it would almost literally make me lose my mind. I’d get so wild and whipped-up it felt like I was shedding my skin. I wanted to take that thing out onto the deck, do a full 360-degree whiparound, and discus the shit deep into the woods.

So I got a new one. It’s nothing fancy, but should do the trick. However, I’ve already had some aggravating moments with it too.

I decided I’m going to keep the new machine stripped down and clean. No downloads of questionable anti-virus and anti-malware programs that somehow, over time, breed dozens and dozens of additional programs which launch into resource-sucking action as soon as the mouse is jiggled. I have one reputable program that does all that for me now, and I’m just going to leave it alone and let it do its thing. Keep it simple and clean.

In fact, the only thing I moved over from my old laptop is the music. And I screwed it up. It’s my fault, but that doesn’t make it any less infuriating. Somehow I had every song by artists that start with A through E in my library twice. I had an entire album by the ludicrous band Planet P Project (“Pink World”) in there four times. It probably shouldn’t be there at all. Also, they don’t fall into A through E. So, what the hell?

I spent several days trying to figure out how to fix that problem, without having to manually delete hundreds of songs, one by one. I eventually came up with a solution, which is nifty, but too boring to explain here. By then, though, I’d experienced several days of my right hand WHIPPING through my hair.

Also, I needed Microsoft Word, but didn’t want to pay $150 for the entire Office program. And I didn’t want to get into a monthly Office subscription plan, either. I just needed Word, and it didn’t really matter which version.

So… I headed over to eBay and bought a copy of Office 2007 for twenty bucks. Everything worked out with it, and I’m using it now. But it took almost four weeks of back and forth with the broken-English seller to get to the finish line. I feel like he was playing games with me, but, for the life of me, can’t figure out why. It’s not like he profited in any way, except for maybe the emotional satisfaction of making me almost lose my fucking mind.

Through the course of it all, he provided me three different tracking numbers, two of which never worked. They were just listed as “pre-shipment” and never changed. Interestingly enough, it was the second number that eventually started to move. Not the last one he gave me, but the second one. “Sorry for the impossible mishaps,” the guy said. What?

When the package finally arrived there was no product key, so I couldn’t activate it. And he refused to email it to me; he said he’d drop it in the mail “today.” Another 48 hours of inactivity ensued, and the fourth tracking number finally started to move. The whole ordeal lasted three and a half weeks, and we exchanged almost twenty emails. But we finally got there.

What is it about technology trouble that’s so maddening? There are few things that make me as crazy. Slow drivers in the left lane of the interstate come close, but it’s not the same. The only thing I can think of that causes me to truly become honest-to-God furious is when someone talks down to me, in a patronizing attitude and tone. Man, that’s a trigger like no other. That and a half-second delay when I click something on the computer.

What about you? I’m not talking about annoyances, like people who stand in front the ATM and study their receipts. Or people at Sam’s Club who take a sample and eat it right there, as if the old lady is waiting on a review. Get your doughy ass out of my way, sausage-blocker! No, I’m talking about stuff that causes a white flash of anger, and nearly a loss of control.

Please share your thoughts in the comments.

Also, if you’re getting a head start on your holiday shopping, I’d like to remind you to please use our links to enter the Amazon site. Then… shop as normal. It costs you nothing extra, and helps me out a great deal. Thanks in advance.

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

What Do You Know About The Cab Business? Also Our Public Transportation Horror Stories

We went to New York City on Thursday, and it was a great day. The weather was perfect and everybody was in a good mood. All at the same time. And I can’t tell you how rare that shit is… It’s nothing short of miraculous.

I drove my little wind-up car, that, for the record, was a big mistake. I should’ve never bought that thing. I got a little too clever with it. I told myself I wanted something small with all wheel drive, to better facilitate my 40 mile commute to work. Yeah, it sounds good on paper. But that thing is incredibly uncomfortable. I always feel like I’m sitting on a plastic laundromat chair going down the highway, and usually develop a bad case of Phantom Ass Syndrome around the 30 mile mark. And on the rare occasion when all four of us have to go somewhere together, it turns into a full-on tragicomedy. I’m gonna dump it soon, very soon. Big mistake.

Anyway, we made our way to a Park ‘n’ Ride in Secaucus or somesuch, and took a bus into Port Authority. Then we jumped into a cab, almost on a whim, and went to the Greenwich Village area. We had Chinese for lunch, which was excellent, and walked around for several hours. The boys wanted to visit Bleecker Street Records, but it’s out of business. Crazy! That place is legendary, and now it’s gone? I hate stuff like that.

We did wander into the former CBGBs location, though. It’s some sort of poofterish men’s high fashion store now. The walls are still covered in band stickers and graffiti, which is cool. But they sell jackets for $1800, and that sort of thing. The workers were eyeballing us with suspicion, but weren’t overly rude. There are tons of vintage photos on the walls, and a lot of the old vibe, so we looked around for a few minutes and got the hell out of there. I didn’t need to incur the wrath of the fake Anderson Cooper who was milling about with a tape measure around his neck. Ya know?

Then we had cannoli at a little neighborhood bakery, which was also fantastic. It was a good day, exactly what we’d hoped for. As mentioned: super-rare.

A couple of things about those NYC cabs… The only other time I’d been in one was on a business trip with WEA years ago. The driver was some kind of exotic foreigner whose pits clearly hadn’t encountered a bar of soap in quite some time. He smelled worse than any human I’d ever encountered, and was shouting and driving like a crazy man. My memory is a bit foggy, but it seems like he was briefly on the sidewalk. Can that possibly be true?

But the two drivers we had on Thursday (we also took a cab back to Port Authority) were professional and stench-free. Both of them drove aggressively, but nothing like the guy from years ago. The cars themselves were also clean and reasonably new. It was a positive experience.

How are they paid, though? Does anybody know? I understand they get tips, but how are they compensated beyond that? Do they get a percentage of the fares? How does it work? Also, what do they do if they have to take a leak? There’s nowhere to park in that city. It seems like the off-loading of urine would be a major issue for those guys. Any ideas? Do they have piss huts or something?

By the way, I’ve used the subway many times in NYC, in addition to buses and cabs. Heck, I’ve even been in a limo a couple of times there, back during the high-flying record weasel years. No Uber yet. Maybe next time? But I’d rate the bus as the worst, by far. When I got off those things I felt like there was a high likelihood I was now infected with SARS. Not the Park ‘n’ Ride buses, mind you, the city buses. One time I put my hand in what was almost certainly a giant glob of snot. It was still warm, and I nearly upchucked my Sabrett on the spot. Blecch. The rest of the options were pretty OK. The subway is a bit unnerving only because I’m always (always!) convinced we’re on the wrong train. But, if I ever learned to use it with confidence, that’s the way I’d go. Good times.

Do you have much experience with public transportation? Like cabs or the subway? Or even the long-haul stuff like Greyhound or Amtrak? If so, please share whatever interesting stories you might have collected. And do you agree that buses are the worst? What are your feelings on the matter?

When we lived in California the company I worked for tried to shame everyone into using a train service called MetroLink. They paid for a month’s worth when I started, and I tried it out. Yeah, and after about a week and a half I’d had enough of that bullshit. I went RUNNING back to my car. They could fire me if they wanted. I hated having to be at the station at a very specific time, and going home at a very specific time, and not having a car at lunchtime. Plus, the other commuters annoyed me for various reasons, so I quickly pulled the plug on that experiment. I got a little judgment from some of my oh-so-correct co-workers, but tough shit. I thought they were pro-choice?

If you have anything on any of this disjointed nonsense, please share in the comments.

And I’ll see you guys again soon!

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How Many Pairs Of Jeans Do You Own? I Feel Like I’m Doing It All Wrong

In all my adult life I’ve never really had to “dress up” for work. I spent more than 20 years in the music industry where even the bigshots arrived at the office in cargo shorts and Hawaiian shirts, or whatever the hell. It was a situation where a person would be publicly mocked if they wore khakis and a button-down shirt to work. Oh, there would be ridicule, my friends.

My current situation is similar. Jeans and a reasonable shirt and shoes is the way we roll there. So, despite working in offices for large corporations since the beginning of time, I’ve somehow managed to dodge the fancy-pants bullet. Pretty cool, huh?

However… a guy said something a few nights ago that caused me to doubt myself. He said he owns about 60 pairs of jeans, and rotates through them. Meaning, he wears ’em in a specific order somehow. I don’t know if he has a schematic, or possibly a complicated Excel spreadsheet with pivot table? He didn’t elaborate, and it doesn’t really matter. The part that caught my attention was 60 pairs of jeans. Holy shitbubble! Is that normal?? ‘Cause if it is, I’m doing it radically wrong.

I have four pairs of wearable jeans at the moment. I probably should buy one more, to cover an entire workweek, but that’s a different subject for a different day. I’m nowhere near 60, and feel mildly unsure of myself now. Should I be closer to 60? If so, where would I keep them? We might have to add on to the house. And I don’t wear my pants in a specific order, either. Am I a barbarian?

How many pairs of wearable jeans do you own? I’m not talking about the ones that no longer fit or have the entire ass blown out of them. I have many that fall into that category. In fact, I have a couple of pairs that exploded in the ass region, and a large swath of denim just disappeared. It’s gone! What the hell, man?

In any case, I’d like to know how many usable pairs of jeans you currently own. Please use the comments section to hopefully make me feel better. And… if you’re forced to fancy-pants it at work, how many of those do you own? More would be required, I know. But how many more? Please bring us up to date on it.

I remember years ago I was reading a zine and the author listed the approximate number of pants, shirts, shoes, underwear and socks he owned. (Zines were awesome.) Everything seemed reasonable, except the underwear and socks. I think he said he had 50 pairs of underwear in current rotation, and something like 100 pairs of socks. Both numbers seemed shockingly high to me. And, once again, I felt like I must be doing it all wrong.

I do currently own an inordinate amount of underwear, but only because I experienced an aging-related crisis in that department and had to go on a frantic search for a better solution. But I don’t want to get into that right now. It’s nearly lunch time, and nobody needs their appetite destroyed.

Speaking of shoes, I noticed Toney putting on her sneakers this morning, and gasped. She actually put on her left sock, then her left shoe. Followed by the right sock, and the right shoe. How is this possible?? I’m strictly a left sock, right sock, left shoe, right shoe kind of guy. It has to go in that order. I asked if she at least does it left foot first, and she said no. The order doesn’t matter, she claims. Wow! We’ve been together for 25 years, and I’m still learning. I had no idea my wife subscribes to full-on footwear anarchy. Do you have anything on this? I’m amazed. Both shocked and amazed.

And I’m calling it a day, boys and girls. I hope you guys have a great weekend.

See you again soon!

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In Celebration Of The World’s Most Overrated Foods!

Yesterday afternoon I went to Burger King to use a coupon that I believed entitled me to two hot dogs, an order of fries, and a soda for $4. Unfortunately, I didn’t read it very well. For one thing, there was no drink included. And that’s some bullshit, right there. Drinks are stupid-expensive. Also, I wanted chili and cheese on my dogs, not mustard and relish. So, that cranked it up even higher. By the time I was finished, the tab was just shy of $7. Businesses prey on dumbasses like me.

After I ordered and dutifully shifted to my left, a couple of Middle Eastern men approached the cash register. The cashier, who had been dealt an unfortunate genetic hand, couldn’t understand their accents and things quickly became tense. The men were becoming borderline hostile, and the girl was starting to panic. She called over the manager, who was wearing an ‘I don’t get paid nearly enough for this shit’ expression that I’m VERY familiar with. He was having trouble understanding them too, but managed to successfully navigate the tension and take their order.

And, as the manager walked away in triumph, the relieved cashier chirped, “Your total is $9.11!” She didn’t say “Nine dollars and eleven cents,” she said “9/11.” I about shit. These guys had already demonstrated they weren’t exactly happy-go-lucky, and were all-too-willing to be loudly offended and confrontational. Now this? But, they just paid and dutifully shifted to their left.

I was about halfway through hot dog #1 when somebody began shouting, “We just got a bus! A bus just pulled in!” She was hollering like a person who’d fallen down a well. And within seconds the whole place was filled with what appeared to be young, up-and-coming lesbians in sports uniforms. I have trouble with ages now (is that an old person thing? I’m worried it’s an old person thing), but I estimated they were around 14 years old. And butch as all outdoors.

The noise level in that place went from 2 to 10, in nothing flat. They were all laughing and talking with an exuberance I haven’t felt since Elvis Costello released “Trust.” And I looked over at those Middle Eastern men, sitting in a booth by the window. They both had the same ‘I can’t take much more’ expressions on their faces as I did, and all three of us picked up our eating-pace a notch. It looked like they were having Whopper Juniors, but I can’t be sure.

And I’ll tell you one thing… Those Burger King hot dogs are pretty damn good. Have you had them? This was my second time. I liked them the first go ’round as well, but thought they were too expensive. I believe that’s still true, but was fooled by the coupon. Do you have an opinion on this most pressing of matters? If so, please share.

Before I call it day here, I’d like to ask you guys one more question:  What do you think are the most overrated foods? You know, stuff that everybody seems to love and you simply can’t understand why? My vote is an easy one: chicken wings. Everybody, almost literally it seems, goes on and on about their chicken wing obsession. Arguments break out about the restaurants that serve the best wings, and people act like they’re about to whip it out and start in to strokin’ whenever somebody suggests they order wings for dinner.

I sincerely don’t get it. There’s little to no meat, so you’re basically eating what appears to be deep-fried scrotum skin wrapped around a bone and slathered in sauce. It’s not good. Why do people think this is good? It feels like the whole world has been hypnotized by some evil wing baron, and I’m somehow immune. Seriously: WTF?! Give me two or three BK dogs all day long over that bullshit. Wow.

Do you have anything on this one? If so, please use the comments link above or below. Who even knows at this point?

I have to go to work now.

I’ll see you guys again soon. Have a great day!

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Which TV Shows Have Gotten Into Your Bloodstream And Never Really Faded Away?

Rolling Stone recently released one of their highly questionable lists, this time showcasing the supposed 100 Greatest TV Shows of All Time. You can check it out here, if you’re so inclined. It’s not the worst list I’ve ever seen, but there are problems, my friends. A number of problems. For instance… The Daily Show in the Top 10? I don’t think it should be on the list at all. I believe I’d rather watch the Prolapsed Anus Channel (PAC).

In any case, you guys can voice your opinions about the list itself, if you want. But I’d like to talk about the TV shows that have gotten into our bloodstreams and never really left us. I know that sounds high falutin’ but there are indeed a handful of shows that fall into that category for me. I’m reminded of them all the time, and it’s an amazing thing — because it’s so rare. There are plenty of shows that I loved (LOST, Homicide: Life on the Streets, The Wire, Get a Life, Freaks and Geeks, My So-Called Life, and many more), but only find myself regularly referencing a small number of them. Most fade with time, and I’m left with just a vague feeling of ‘oh yeah, I liked that.’ But a few never do.

I hope I’ve described that well enough… If not, just tell us what you think of the list, and what was left off, etc. There’s plenty of fodder there, I know. But I’m going to list the shows that have infected me forever (at least until the dementia takes hold), and hope you folks have something to add to that discussion, as well. Let’s do it!

I don’t think The Andy Griffith Show is even on the list. And WTF?! It’s one of the best comedies ever: great writing, great casting, great acting. I’ve seen every episode dozens of times, and still laugh. I’m talking about the black & white seasons only, with Barney Fife. The Howard Sprague years are a little too polite for my tastes. I’m always quoting from the program, and am continuously reminded of specific situations in it. It’s possibly my favorite show of all time: an ultra-rare lightning-in-a-bottle work of perfection.

Seinfeld is the other possibly my favorite show of all time. A day doesn’t go by that I’m not reminded of something from it. Literally, every day. And like with the previous program mentioned, I’ve seen every episode over and over, and am still laughing. Co-creator Larry David made the proclamation at the very beginning that there would be “no hugging, no learning” in the show. Right up my alley! The writing is on a genius level, and the acting is fantastic, as well. There’s not a bad episode. I even enjoy the much-maligned Puerto Rico Day parade installment, with H.E. Pennypacker, wealthy industrialist, philanthropist, and bicyclist.

There were several episodes of The Sopranos that were so suspenseful I thought I might have the big one, sitting right there in my living room with a sack of sour cream and onion chips on my lap. “Employee of the Month,” for instance. I don’t know how there could be a better episode of TV. Something might match it, but I don’t see how it could ever be surpassed. But the show was also hilarious. So many great lines… I’m reminded of things constantly. For instance (I’m paraphrasing): “Christ, I hate Boston. It’s just Scranton with clams.” That show has some serious staying power. It’s been years now, and it’s not fading in my mind at all.

I was fully-obsessed with Late Night with David Letterman. That is, the old NBC program that came on after Carson’s Tonight Show. There had been nothing like it before. It was silly and subversive, and utterly wild. He refused to play the game, and guest “interviews” often came completely off the rails. In fact, a lot of people wouldn’t even appear on the show, because they couldn’t be sure what might happen. There are hundreds of little moments that have remained with me (like when he asked Arnold Schwarzenegger if he needed to set up a clip from his latest movie “or is it just nothing but gunfire?”). When the show moved to CBS it was never the same, and I even grew to dislike Letterman a bit. He became political and angry, and apparently believed that coughing and clearing his throat for two minutes straight is good comedy. But there was genuine magic during the NBC years.

I almost put two other shows on this list: Beavis and Butthead, and Green Acres. I absolutely love both, but don’t really reference specific moments from them much. So, they don’t belong on this particular list. Both of them are misunderstood and get a raw deal, though. People seem to believe that if a program is about stupid people, then the show itself is stupid. Beavis and Butthead was super-smart, in my opinion. And Green Acres is one of the greatest works of absurdist humor I’ve ever seen. Whenever I watch it I find myself not only laughing my ass off, but also marveling that such a thing was ever shown on network television.

I also loved an obscure show called Fernwood 2Night, as well as Night Flight on USA Network. Monty Python was great, as well, but I refuse to quote from it. I mean, seriously. Is there anything nerdier and more cringe-worthy? And there are dozens and dozens of other shows that I loved, some listed above, which never fully worked their way into my bloodstream for whatever reason.

I’m going to turn it over to you guys now, and maybe go eat a burrito or somesuch. If you have anything to add to my questionable premise, please do so in the comments section. If not, just bitch about the Rolling Stone list. It’s all good.

Have a great day, my friends.

I’ll see you again soon.

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!

In Celebration Of The Words And Phrases That Disgust Us

I wish I could tell you guys about all the sleep-sapping crap that’s going on in my world, but I can’t. That part of my life used to be just a tiny sliver in the pie chart, and now it’s most of the goddamn pie. Needless to say, a lot of it’s work-related, but not all. Someday, maybe. We’ll see how it goes. Perhaps I can coax Bill Oates out of retirement, and he can tell you? Yeah, probably not.

I will say this much: there’s been a lot of talk about moving within the next few years. It probably won’t happen, but we discuss it a great deal. Some places we’ve contemplated: Cary, NC… Plano, TX… Sioux Falls, SD… Any opinions on any of those towns? There’s a reason behind all of them for us, which I don’t have the energy to go into right now.

Also, I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in three months. Toney still imbibes, but I don’t even really think about it anymore. I believe I’m done. In the past I’ve missed it when I took a break, but not this time. Now I need to start thinking about shedding this flesh parka. Don’t most people lose weight when they cut beer out of their lives? I’m still a swaddling hog.

Oh well. Today I’m going to list some words and phrases that drive me at least a little crazy. Some cause a fully-realized grimace, while others just make me lightly groan in my soul. And I invite you folks to add to the list in the comments. I know we’ve done this before, but there’s value in keeping the list refreshed and up to date. Let’s do it.

I seen

I can speak to that

“melk”

“Ellinois”

commode

supper

underpants

on point

“punkin”

“aigs and biken”

meh

anyhoo

awesomesauce

pop (instead of soda)

West “By God” Virginia

Really? …Really?!

deodorant

vacay

“worsher”

sweeper

totes

grandbaby

“Scrannon,” Pennsylvania

I’ll undoubtedly come up with many more over the next couple of days, and will add them to the list. I hope you guys will add yours, as well. Use the comments section.

And I need to go now, and start another week. My nipples are exploding with delight.

See you again soon!

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A Few Quick Things, vol. 381

I don’t know what’s going on with Andy (Black Lips Houlihan), our fantastic border collie, but he smells like all the asses. Every one of them, combined. He’s extremely elderly, like the dog version of one of those 127 year old Chinese women, and hasn’t smelled too pleasant for the past couple of years. Toney thinks he’s starting to decompose while he’s still alive. I’m not sure about that, but the pungency has certainly kicked up a notch during the past few months. It’s nothing short of breathtaking. And it’s not gas — Andy has never been a farty dog — it’s his breath. As my dad would say, it’s enough to gag a maggot. There’s a lot of panting, too. So, he basically sits around and pumps the funk, like a humidifier of unspeakable stench. We’ll probably be forced to instigate a controlled-burn and completely do away with the house before it’s all over. The stink has likely seeped into the lumber by now.

For the record, my dad would sometimes go with the extended version: “gag a maggot on a gut wagon.” I’m unclear what a gut wagon is, but have a picture of one in my head. It’s been there for many years. Also, whenever he sees a certain kind of ugly woman with wild, disheveled hair he’ll say she “looks like Eeka.” It’s reportedly a reference to something he saw in a carnival sideshow when he was a kid: Eeka the Snake Woman, or somesuch. He said they kept her in a mud hole filled with snakes, and they’d throw live chickens to her and she’d eat them. People would pay a dime to stand around and look at her for a few minutes, wallowing in the mud with the snakes, biting off chicken heads and whatnot. Hell, I’d pay five dollars to see something like that. My dad has a lot of sayings, many of them completely baffling. I should start putting together a master list.

I had a dream a couple of nights ago that I was eating dinner in a restaurant, and they asked me to leave because I wasn’t dressed appropriately. At first they were trying to be nice about it, and I felt pressure to finish my meal and get out of there. But it was taking too long, I guess, and they finally just told me to go. No charge, just leave the premises immediately.

For the record, I was dressed exactly the way I do for work. And when I looked around… it seemed like most other people were dressed the same as me. It was confusing, but I walked out of there in disgrace. The staff was all up in arms about it, whispering to each other and shooting looks my way. When woke up I was upset and embarrassed.

My sleep is FULL of anxiety, these days. I worry my way through every night. Especially since I parted ways with alcohol. I’m going to sleep my way to a sucking ulcer before it’s all over, mark my words. Pass the root beer nuts.

When I was a kid there was a guy listed in the Charleston phone book named Hogjaw Twaddle. The man was a local legend, because of his name. It was literally listed: Twaddle, Hogjaw. We thought that was a riot, and would sometimes call his house. But he was good natured about it, and would never get mad. So, where’s the fun in that? There was also somebody in there with the last name Zitzelberger, and they weren’t as agreeable. So we never stopped calling them: “Can I get two Zitzelbergers to go, please, with extra cheese?” The fury… the threats… the profanity… Yeah, that one went STRAIGHT to the “call often” list.

You know what bugs me more than most things? When people say “I seen.” Like “I seen on the news where they’re opening a new store…” What the hell, man? That one makes my whole disposition go rigid. And you know what’s even worse? When they actually write it that way. Sweet sainted mother of Warren Cromartie!

I snapped this picture in Wegmans a few days ago. Yeah, I’m a bit on the husky side myself, but try not to dress to accentuate it. Know what I mean? I would never leave the house with a bolt of fabric suctioned to my ass that made me look like the Pink Floyd Laser Spectacular from behind. Right? It’s all about choices, people.

I watched the Amanda Knox documentary on Netflix last night. It’s pretty graphic, and shows seemingly raw and uncut video footage of the murder scene. There’s a lot of blood and gore, but when they went into the bathroom I saw something that TRULY disturbed me: a load of coal black feces in the toilet. What the?! For one thing, if something of that consistency and color came out of my body, I’d call 911. Maybe even 922. Also, why? Who left it? The killer? It’s never explained, but Amanda herself said it freaked her out. And I’m right there with her. It’s how she finally realized something wasn’t right, she claimed. The idea of someone taking a dump during or immediately following a brutal murder disturbs me, for reasons I can’t explain. It’s bizarre, right? Plus, whoever did it might want to start introducing a few vegetables into their diet, and an occasional glass of water wouldn’t hurt, either. Sweet Maria.

I saw an article, that I’m now unable to locate, about different things people call their TV remotes. I’m only familiar with two: the remote and the clicker. We go with the former, but I’ve heard plenty of folks use the latter. Well, there are apparently all manner of words people use for that device. Like the driver? What the hell? And the numbers? I’ve never, in all my life, heard of such a thing. Do you call it anything other than a remote or a clicker? If so, please share in the comments.

I’ll leave you now with another question… What public restroom behaviors annoy you? I have many, as you might imagine. Including people who stand at the urinal with both fists on their waist, like Captain America. Or spread their legs and lean way forward with one palm on the wall. Or snap their underwear at the end, as a jaunty sort of urination punctuation. I also don’t like when there’s a whole row of urinals available, yet somebody bellies right up to the one next to me. And I don’t approve of any kind of talking, unless it’s at the sinks. What about you? Please share your public restroom pet peeves in the comments section, and also feel free to weigh in on any of the other ridiculous crap I covered today.

And I’m going to call it a day, my friends.

I’ll see you again soon!

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In Celebration Of The Best Bosses Ever!

Somebody posted this picture to a Peaches Records & Tapes page at Facebook yesterday. It’s taken in NYC during the early 1980s, in front of what eventually became the Strawberry Fields section of Central Park. The guy on the left, with the can in his hand, was the director of the Greensboro Peaches store when I worked there. And he was one of the best bosses I ever had.

His name is Jeff, and he was curmudgeonly and grouchy, which is something I relate to for some reason. I remember a girl named Cathy called him one day and said she wouldn’t be in, because she was too “stressed out” to work. Jeff said, “Just imagine how stressed out you’re going to be tomorrow when you’re applying for unemployment.” Ha! We need more guys like him in charge.

He also informed me I was getting fat at some point, and needed to cut back on the Twinkies, or whatever. “Your fat ass is bad for business!” he “joked.” It was a simpler time…

And we had a bin near the front door where we offered cassettes and LPs, 2 for $10. Or sometimes 3 for $10. Each month a different record company was featured there, and whenever it was almost time for CBS (now Sony), I placed the order for the product.

One time I got a little fancy with it, a little cute, and ordered 25 copies of The Best of Bill Withers on cassette. His big hit “Lean on Me” had been remade and was all over the radio again. I believed I could sell a bunch of those sumbitches, because the original version of the song was included. Usually I just went with all the early Aerosmiths and “Bat Out of Hell” and the first two Boston albums… I did that too, to a lesser degree, but was also trying to be creative.

Yeah, and when all those tapes arrived Jeff almost had an aneurysm. He kept yelling at me, “Are you under some kind of duress?? Fucking Bill Withers?! Oh my god, my head’s going to explode!! Help me understand what’s going on here!” He went full Sam Kinison on my ass, but I was convinced I’d prove him wrong. I still believed I’d made the right call.

And you can probably guess what happened… I think we sold one copy during the entire month. We had to return 24 tapes, which went against the store’s return allowance. It was an unforced error, and he never stopped bringing it up to me. “Bill Withers…” he’d mumble, and shake his head in disgust.

His use of the word “duress” during that receiving dock meltdown killed me.  I don’t know why, but it still makes me laugh. His eyes were bugging out of his head he was so pissed. “Are you under some kind of duress??”

So, yeah. He was gruff and plainspoken, but he was also a hell of a good guy, and a great boss. He could tell I was into it, and spent extra time with me, teaching me about the music industry, etc. By the time I moved on I was a manager and buyer and even wrote the radio ads for the store. He had me involved in everything, and it boosted my confidence and prepared me for my future job at Warner/Elektra/Atlantic.

He didn’t hesitate to tell me when I’d screwed up (in fact, I think it brought him great joy), but he seemed to believe in me. That’s no small thing, and is fairly rare. Most people can’t be bothered, one way or the other. Jeff put some effort into developing a few of us who showed promise, and it was a big deal for me. It changed my life in certain ways.

We’ve talked about our worst bosses here many times, but I’d like to invite you to tell us about your best bosses today. Why were they the best? Use the comments link to bring us up to date on it.

And I’m going to call it a day, my friends.

Have yourselves a great weekend!

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Awakened By The World’s Worst Music, Leaf Blower Computer Maintenance, and It’s Haircut Time Again

I didn’t get to bed until almost 3 this morning, on account of high bullshit, and was awakened before 9 by a godawful caterwauling originating from an unknown source.

It was “music,” and it was loud. At first I thought it was coming from inside our house, which didn’t seem right. Our kids are a little more considerate (afraid I’ll scream at them), plus they have better taste. So, what the hell? The moment my eyes popped open in confusion, I could tell I hadn’t gotten enough sleep. But it was over. There was no turning back now.

“What the hell is that terrible music?!” I asked Toney, after I’d spewed a full day’s worth of profanity in the first five minutes.

“Those roofers behind us,” she said. “Way too loud, right?”

The neighbors are getting a new roof, or somesuch, and the workers were indeed cranking that unfathomably awful racket. It sounded like teenage girl pop, high energy, with a lot of whistling in it. I think I’ve heard it before, in the background on TV or whatever.

“What kind of roofers would listen to shit like that? What is it, Katy Perry or something?”

“No.”

“Well, whatever. It sucks. A real roofer would listen to Zeppelin. These guys obviously don’t know what they’re doing.”

“The song before this was country. I think they’re playing a country radio station.”

“Country?! If that’s considered country then Hank Williams just died again in hell.”

So… that’s how my day started. I feel like I’m in a fog now, and will probably crash the moment I free-fall into a comfy chair. I had plans today, too. Now I’m going to have to do everything through a heavy gauze of exhaustion. Yes, this is how the weekends generally go for me.

Last weekend I was sick. On Saturday I felt like crap, and by Sunday was completely down and out. I was sprawled on the couch most of the day, in the grip of SARS or something. To illustrate how bad it was: I watched the ENTIRE Emmy Awards. Every minute of it, including the red carpet stuff at the beginning… I’m lucky to be alive.

Then, on Monday, when it was time to go back to work, I was much improved. See how it goes? I work for the weekend, and it gets destroyed somehow. I’m not even kidding. Any idea what that song is? Female singer, disgustingly catchy, shitload of whistling? Help me out, won’t you? If I can identify it, maybe I can also emotionally purge it?

My laptop is now shutting down on its own, at random times. It’s maddening. I’ve done a little reading, and it’s possible that the computer is loaded with dust and is overheating? I mean, the shit is close to ten years old at this point, so it’s certainly possible. So, what do you think about this plan?

Do you think it would do any damage to it if I took it outside, laid it upside down on a towel, and blasted all the vents with the leaf blower? Heh. As soon as I’m done here, I think I’m going to give it a try. I mean, I can barely use it at this point. I’ll be writing, or reading an article, and the whole thing will just power down. It makes me want to slam my head through plate glass.

I’ll keep you updated on what happens after I hit that bastard with a blower-blast. If it sends it to laptop heaven, I’m going to be sad. But I’m desperate. It’s working much better without Google Chrome, but now I’m dealing with this shutdown thing. It’s making me crazy. Hey, maybe I could tie it to the roof of my car and drive to Harrisburg and back? That’s also a possibility. Stay tuned.

I’m going to get a haircut today, as well. I pay $12 at Malcolm’s, a local chain of salons. How much do you pay? And how often do you go? It feels like I’m going every five weeks or so. We tried to go the home clippers route, but I don’t like the results. My kids don’t mind it, but I’m not a fan. Something always feels slightly askew, like I’ve gone full-Corky. Also, how much do you tip at a haircuttery? I tip $5. Is that good? What’s your feelings on this most important of matters?

And I’m going to go now. I’m hooked on these microwave burritos, so I’m going to polish one off. Possibly two. They’re damn good. Oh yeah.

By the way, the picture above came from one of the local papers. What the?

I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great weekend!

Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!