Contemporary Inanity

Baseball's Back!

The Red Sox and Athletics split in Tokyo Tuesday and Wednesday, the Braves and Nats christen the new D. C. ballpark tonight and everyone else gets started Monday.  About time! 

Of course, we're looking at a forecast of snow tonight and tomorrow, but I've got plans to counter that dismal way to start April.  End of the road, here I come!

A Minor Frustration

I went three flights down to my basement yesterday to attempt to cut into the mounds of laundry gathering in my place (think moguls on a ski hill) but when I got to the laundry room, there was a bad sight.  The dryer vent was unhooked.  As Charlie Brown would say, "Aaugh!"

Well, I absolutely had to do some laundry -- I had no clean underwear, socks or work clothes.  I packed a bag full of two loads of stuff and schlepped it down to the laundromat.  I didn't have to start work until 9 last night, so I had plenty of time to bore myself to death. 

There was a plus side, though.  I got to see "Dancing With the Stars" for the first time.  Oh, wait.  That's only a plus if you consider wanting to claw my eyes out with my bare hands a good thing.  I guess I just do not understand life in this brave new world of reality shows.

When will it end?

I'm looking out my back window and watching the snow fly.  There is a streetlight by the lake that is illuminated at 12:30 PM.  There are a couple of ladybugs (or ladybug-like creatures) crawling around my window panes.  My place is a mess and I have approximately 17 loads of laundry to do.  I have a solid gross of NCAA bracket sheets to attack.  Work tonight is likely to be crazy busy, judging from the way this week has gone.  I'm woefully behind in my prep for my fantasy baseball auction. 

Ugh.

Spring, when will you arrive to break Winter's icy grip?

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I think that it might have been appropriate that my Pandora station was playing Bob Dylan's "Workingman's Blues" while I was writing this.  True story.

The most misleading advertisments on the air

Have you seen the Visa ads in which everyone is marching in lockstep or dancing around some cafeteria. with melodious, rhythmic music playing?  The ones where everyone is swiping their debit cards and everyone (including the merchants) are laughing and smiling?  Then, of course, comes the schlub who has the temerity to use cash, and all the clock-work capitalism comes crashing to a halt.

I call BS.

I know that people are loathe to carry cash.  I know it's more convenient for guests to use a credit or debit card.  I know that many, if not most, people have direct deposit, which makes using debit cards even easier.  But don't try to sell me that the merchants are happy about this development, because I guarantee you they are not.  Not by a long shot.  It doesn't make things go faster, believe me.

I know that the "customer is always right", and, trust me, I live by that truism, except when the customer is so egregiously wrong that it has to be pointed out.  But I also know that "cash is king", and every single merchant in this world would rather take cash than debit cards.  That's because of transaction costs, mostly, BTW, which aren't the point of this rant.

Last night, a group of four people, two women and two men, came into the joint at about 11:00 or so.  We were busy, maybe a little busier than a normal Tuesday.  We have a very good happy hour -- two dollar drinks are the reason why people like to come in.  Each of the women had one drink; each of the men had two.  When they asked for their tab, they handed me three cards and two dollars. 

Really?  You don't even have five dollars on you?  Besides that, it's a twelve dollar tab.  Can't one of you (oh, I don't know, maybe one of the guys) say "That's okay, I'll buy."  It's twelve dollars! 

Next time you go out and are tempted to complain about bad service and then use a debit card for one or two drinks, just remember that you are part of the reason why the bartender doesn't have enough time to wait on people.      

College Basketball fans

Here's something you should read.

Man, if I could figure out how to embed that widget on this page, I'd do it in no time.

A pleasant surprise

I was walking to work the other day, traipsing down Lake Street, when I heard something that I often hear, but with an unusual twist.  A car, a black SUV whose make and model I didn't recognize, was blasting its stereo loud enough to be easily heard.  Normally, in a case like that, I would expect to be hearing hip-hop or some Classic Rock.  This time was different, and refreshing.

Thelonius Monk was pouring out of the car, brightening my day.  Thank you, whoever you are, for those fifteen seconds of pleasure.

Seriously, what is wrong with people?

I will preface this amusing anecdote by telling about  a guy I worked with long ago.  He was a child psychology major, and he always said that that was the perfect background for being a bartender.  "After all", he'd say, "who's more child-like than a drunk?"

Last night was fairly busy -- Sundays are usually pretty good, since a majority of your bar crowd are restaurant workers -- generally low maintenance in their requests and they are usually fairly liberal in their tipping habits.  One of the servers was working a double, which truly sucks.  I cannot do that anymore; I'm too old, and it's always the legs that go first.  This guy is young, though, and you're only doing doubles voluntarily -- no one is ever scheduled for them.

One big issue with working doubles is finding time to eat -- that can be haphazard at best.  Legally, you're supposed to have a break for every four hours worked.  In reality, you might get to use the bathroom or smoke a cigarette.  You sure won't have time to eat.  Anyhow, it was about 11:45 or so when another co-worker told me a story that, looking back on it, is pretty funny. 

The server working a double had a burger sitting in a booth in an empty part of the establishment and was sneaking bites of it when he had time.   A guest (always a guest, never a customer) stopped at the booth and popped the burger into his pocket.  Yes, you read that correctly.  He put a burger into his pocket.

It was up to me to discuss this behavior with said guest.  I'll try to do the conversation justice. I started by asking, "Did I hear this right?  You picked a burger up off a table and put it into your pocket?"

Guest: "Yeah. I grabbed it for my dog."

"Did it occur to you that someone might be eating it?"

Guest: "Well, I went to the bathroom and no one was there, so I figured that whoever was eating it was gone."

"It was a server's dinner."

Guest: "I didn't know that.  People eat while they work?  I just thought the person who was eating it had left."

"You could have asked.  Do you always take things that don't belong to you?"

"Well, I just assumed.  Does he want it back?"

"After it's been in your pocket?  I highly doubt it.  Just don't take anything that doesn't belong to you, okay?  I don't care if it was for your dog."

An amazing part of this whole exchange is that I was having this ludicrous discussion with a gentleman who is at least 10 years my senior, and I'm trying to give him moral guidance that is fit for a 6-year old -- don't steal, respect the property of others.  I doubt he feels that he did anything wrong, even after my explanation.

Maybe I should audit some child psych classes in my spare time.  They might come in handy.

Wintertime Blues

With all due respect to Eddie Cochran, the blues around this time of year are far worse than any encountered in the summertime.  The only real cure is spring -- a trip to Southern climes is a nice break, but you still have to return to the beautiful icebox (where are those sarcasm tags?).  Since, because of circumstances beyond my control, I couldn't get out of town this winter, I truly was without even that.

The blues in winter are often combated by really dumb stuff: eating preposterously junky foods, watching unwatchable movies, locking oneself in one's apartment while surfing the web, obsessing about politics (election years only, natch), poring over a World Series DVD set (no credit for what year's Series), ... well, I could go on, but I only have so many fingers and toes.  A hobby other than reading would be nice, but there's that whole "old dog, new tricks" factor working.  Besides, I can't really see myself crocheting. 

Much of my time in the other three seasons is consumed by Fantasy Baseball and Football, but I've tried Fantasy Basketball and didn't like it.  I could start playing Fantasy Hockey or NASCAR, I suppose.  The problem with that is that I've informed too many people  to shoot me if I try either of those two pursuits -- the possibility exists that someone may have taken me seriously, and I would die.   I'm not ready to do that, I don't think.

Maybe I'll edit Wikipedia articles.  I did that today for the first time, before I started writing this.  There was an omission in the "Summertime Blues" article.  How in the world could Robert Gordon be left off  the "Other Covers" list?  I couldn't leave that be. 

Don't bother telling me I'm weird, I fully realize it, thanks.  At least I can make a short blog post come full circle.

Late update: since I'm too dense to imbed a youtube link, here's Robert Gordon and Link Wray doing "Summertime Blues".  Much better than The Who "Live at Leeds".       

 

Pugilistic Politics

Time for some lame sports metaphors, Contemporary Inanity style. 

This has been a fascinating boxing match.  The combatants indulged in some early talking, one more than the other, but that one didn't feel she had to talk.  She was confident of an early-round knockout -- after all, she was the prohibitive favorite.  Then, in the first round, the scrappy underdog showed his mettle and surprised the favorite.  Wait, he knows how to fight?  The favorite hadn't considered that possibility.  She came back, though, showing her doggedness in the second round. 

Her overconfidence, and the ineptitude of her corner, showed in the third, but in the 4th- 6th rounds, where she was counting on her knockout power, they basically split.  In both the 7th and 8th rounds, the usurper bloodied his foe, repeatedly knocking her into the ropes.  Could she take the relentless punishment?  Her corner wasn't thinking of throwing in the sponge, that's for sure...

She answered in the 9th round, throwing punches from all angles.  She was able to counter the onslaught and she was able to stop his momentum.  She doesn't have anything wrapped up yet -- in fact, he still seems to have a slim lead.  Her foe had a ton of mojo working for him, but that might be gone.  It's certainly curtailed.  The bout is now going into the pivotal last three rounds.  All hope of a knockout for either side is almost certainly gone.

This donnybrook is looking like it's headed to the scorecards of the ringside arbiters, and all fans of the Sweet Science know that when that happens, anything is possible.  Look for a split decision that will outrage supporters of the losing side and almost certainly elicit calls of poor judgment on the part of those arbiters.

Many observers fervently hope that this bout doesn't exhaust the eventual winner, since that fighter has a unification bout scheduled for November against a wily veteran who can give as good as he gets and who will have considerably more time off after his qualification match.