Hey Joe

Greetings from the South, or Happy belated 4th

July 4, 2009

Ugh. Been up since 3:30 this morning, PST. My watch says it's 4:00, so I think it's only 2 PM, PST. As I write this I'm sitting on a Continental shuttle-type jet bound for Nashville. I don't think I've ever been on a smaller jet – only three seats across; two on one side of the isle, one lonely seat on the other.

Caught a 5 AM shuttle to SFO. Aside from the usual hassles of dragging around luggage and checking in, everything went smoothly. Oh, well the girl wasn't feeling very well and may or may not have yakked in one or more bathrooms. I think it was mostly the lack of sleep, though Lisa would argue it could have been last night's "medium-well" hamburger. She's from the school of thought that no pink should remain in one's meat. I, on the other hand, while I don't like it dripping blood, think a touch of pink adds flavor. I will leave all meat and pink jokes alone. ANYWAY, the girl slept for a good part of the first leg of our journey and seems to be feeling fine now, though she does appear to be sleeping again.

Had about a 2 hour lay-over in Houston before we caught this flight. Nothing of excitement to report; No Leigh sightings, mediocre lunch at an airport Chili's. Battery dying. So logging off. Will continue on the ground…

July 5, 2009

So here we are in Tennessee. Below is a pic of the lake from the deck of the in-laws house.

And now, a pic of the house from the deck of my in-laws lake.

Last night one of their neighbors shot off some fireworks; much more than your basic backyard display.

So there you go – a little something to tide you over until we meet again. Hope you all had a great 4^th of July.

Friday Night in Burlingame

Living large in B-game, beeatchs. This is the view from our room at the Crown Plaza Hotel, room 908 if you want to drop by and par-tay. The midgets with the whipped marshmallow and the jello-shots should arrive by 9:30. My prediction? Good times.

You long time readers may remember our previous visit to this fine establishment.

So we're staying here tonight so as to allow ourselves the luxury of sleeping in until about 4:00 AM, well that and the free parking. OK, it's not free, we have to pay for the room and all, but $109 (plus tax) for a room and a week's worth of parking ain't a bad deal. A week in the SFO long-term parking would run pretty close, and we wouldn't get the pleasure of a night in Little Manila. Tomorrow we leave for a week in Tennessee, someplace called Fairfield Glade. I don't know a thing about it other than it's between Nashville and Knoxville, and that my mother in-law and her husband just built a lake house there.

We went downstairs to have dinner in the hotel restaurant, but ended up leaving because not only was it more than we wanted to spend, but they didn't even have anything that looked good. I hate that. Instead we walked down the street a few blocks and hit a Sizzler. Ha. I have not eaten at a Sizzler in over 10 years. Got me one a them fried scrimps value meals, which came with an endless soup 'n salad bar. Had me some of that there salad, a little clam chowder, and oh yea, some fried chicken wings. Fried wings and nachos really top off a good salad.

The family is downstairs taking advantage of the indoor pool. I, on the other hand am upstairs, taking advantage of a 3' flip and a tub of Jet-Puffed.

More from Tennessee.

Hope I die before I get old…but not really.

Not to dis the elderly or anything, but this picture totally gives me the willies. Yet another of the many ads that pop up in my Yahoo mailbox. I prefer the gold-digging nymphs frankly.

Anyhoo, look at this poor thing. I just about soiled myself when this ad popped up, much like she probably did just as they snapped this picture.

Tragedy.

In other more stimulating news, I had a spontaneous orgasm today while viewing the Audrina Patridge Carl's Jr. commercial.

R.I.P. – Karl Malden

Karl Malden

1912 - 2009

Wow, I honestly thought this guy was already dead. I guess he was just off somewhere getting really f*cking old.

Believe it or not, Malden was a decent actor. Well, I assume that he was because he won an Oscar for his role as Harold 'Mitch' Mitchell in A Streetcar Named Desire. Apropos of same, I've ridden that car and it jumped the track, tossing me out on the Streets of Longing where I then caught a cab to Contentment. But I digress.

I've never seen ASND, and can only judge Malden's acting chops by that classic 1970's television show, The Streets of San Francisco: A Quinn Martin Production. OK, that's a lie because I really can't remember much about the show other than it was broken up into four parts or acts or something, plus an epilogue. Or maybe I'm confusing it with some other show from the 70's.

Anyway, Karl is dead.

Guess they'll be needing an extra casket for that honker.

Thank you! Try the veal!

You know it's really a shame more people don't read this blog.

A sign of maturity

A picture of my desk at work; note the box of Kleenex.

I consider it a sign of my budding maturity that I now keep a box of Kleenex on my desk.

This may seem like a no-brainer to some of you, particularly you ladies, but as a guy, while we too have "Kleenex needs," to actually think about them, and make a point of bringing a box to the office is another matter entirely.

I've been an employee in one office or another for the better part of twenty years. For 17 of those years I would;

1. Steal Kleenex from a (likely female) co-worker
2. Use my sleeve
3. Use someone else's sleeve
4. Go to the restroom for toilet paper

I feel as though I'm growing as a person; yea me.

Update – 7-1-09

Yeah, so I wrote that post a month or two ago, well before all the shit hit the fan. The Kleenex is now gone and I have yet to replace it. My maturity level has tanked and I'm back to stealing from my neighbors, or using my sleeve. Sometimes I'll just get down on all fours and wipe my nose on the rug. I give not two-shits.

One of these days I'll actually buy something...

 

Last week I paid a visit to the Concord Farmers' Market. 

Post up at UpTake.

R.I.P. – Gale Storm

Gale Storm

1922 – 2009

I'm sorry for playing the Reaper so much as of late, but in my defense I'm not offing them, I'm just reporting them. Hey, at least this broad was old.

So Gale Storm is dead. For those of you currently thinking "Who the hell is Gale Storm;" Gale was an old-time actress who starred in the 1950's television shows My Little Margie and The Gale Storm Show.

Her death offers up a small local angle in that she died in a convalescent hospital in Danville, CA.

Do with that information what you will.

R.I.P. - Billy Mays

Billy Mays

1958 - 2009

Sorry MJ, your 15-minutes are up. The bustling celebrity death business rolls on.

Fast-talking, Billy-Oxiclean-is-the-greatest-invention-since-the-Martini-Mays has died at the ageof 50.

Early reports indicate that Mays got conked on the noggin during a rough landing of a US Airways flight on Sunday night. His wife, Deborah states that Mays complained of not feeling well when he went to bend Sunday evening. He was unresponsive by morning and pronounced dead by a fire rescue crew at 7:45 AM.

Why couldn't it have been that Shamwow tool?

Shhh, don’t tell them where I’m hiding

According to my yahoo in-box, apparently a glut of young women is looking for me and my similarly-aged brethren.

Why are they looking for us? Are we lost? Did I forget something and they'd like to return it? Do they want to tell me a secret?

Do they want to find us so that they can point their young fingers at us, laughing and ridiculing our saggy middles and graying hairlines? Will they park outside my home and blast their "hip-hop" while crazily Running Man-ing and Cabbage Patching all over my front lawn?

Do they want to roll their eyes at me? Spend my money? Drive my car?

Are they looking to engage me in, like conversation about, like whatever? Do they want to scorn my texting skills, my dance moves, my love of "classic rock?" Maybe they want to laugh at how I screw up the lyrics in the "new" songs, or the fact that I don't own an IPod.

Well, whatever it is, they certainly are persistent. Everyday I'm reminded that they're out there, and that they want me.

They want me to buy them booze, don't they?

R.I.P., #3 – Michael Jackson Dead at 50

Michael Jackson

1958 - 2009

They say that the celebrity deaths always come in three's. Well #3 is a biggie.

The self-proclaimed "King of Pop" is dead at 50, the victim of an apparent heart attack.

Jackson reportedly went into cardiac arrest earlier today at his Holmby Hills home and paramedics were unable to revive him.

Jackson's career peaked in the 1980's with the release of Thriller, which yielded a shitload of hits, spent a ton of time on the Billboard chart, and made a huge impact on the still fledgling MTV generation with the movie/video of Thriller. I can still remember when MTV first aired it, and how they would replay it every hour or so, and how we all watched it over and over and over again. And that Ola Ray was in Playboy. Oh and how Eddie Van Halen played the guitar solo on Beat It, lending Jackson a slice of cool. Oh and how Michael used to be black.

Jackson's latter years, like his face, were marred.  Accusations of child molestation and flat out freakish behavior over-shadowed the singer's former glory days. I honestly felt sorry for him, not for the child molestation stuff, that's unforgivable, but the guy probably never had a normal day in his life. I remember several years ago seeing some sort of Jackson 5 reunion tour on TV, and I noticed how comfortable and happy Michael looked performing with his brothers. I imagined that it took him back to a time when his life was much simpler, and dare I say normal.

Farewell your majesty.

Update 6-26-09

The loons have begun nesting; at the family compound, his boyhood home, his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

I'm sure one could get a front row seat at Ed McMahon's star, if he even has one.