OK, so it takes me a while.
I finally remembered to get around to downloading the latest Death Cab and Incubus releases, "Codes and Keys" and "If Not Now, When?", respectively. Almost done listening to DCFC and loving it, although nothing is as incredible as "I Will Possess Your Heart".
Incubus is next. I wasn't thrilled with the last one, but I previewed this one and liked it. I suspect that I'll still prefer the "old" Incubus stuff. "Wish You Were Here" and "Drive" still make me cry, and most of the tracks on "S.C.I.E.N.C.E." are brilliant.
DCFC will be here on August 6, and Incubus on August 31, both at Stage AE. I still fondly recall when Nancy and I went to see Incubus in Baltimore a few years ago, and the security people at the gate assumed that we were escorting kids. "No, we're here to SEE THE BAND!" The world's oldest groupies, I guess. Then there was the nice suburban family who were sitting in front of us in all their preppy finery...the wife turned around and said to us, "Oh, I just love them - they're sooooo spiritual." WTF?!
Time for some concerts, although I think Rammstein spoiled me back in May.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Harry Potter
Just got home from seeing movie number seven part two.
Wow.
A very emotional experience, partly because it's the last movie, but also due to the content. It was really well done.
And of course I loved hearing my favorite line: "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"
Wow.
A very emotional experience, partly because it's the last movie, but also due to the content. It was really well done.
And of course I loved hearing my favorite line: "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"
Friday, July 8, 2011
The fragile male ego...?
Disclaimer: anyone who knows me also knows that I despise "man bashing" (and "woman bashing" of course), and I am in no way suggesting that all guys fit the following description. I was married to two who didn't. Having said that, you may find that you know some guys like this.
I sold off the last suite of office furniture this evening to a guy from Ohio who was opening a new branch office for his business. He arrived at my old office at 6 with a U-Haul trailer, a toolbox and his son. I had some large case pieces that needed to be partially disassembled for moving, and they didn't have much trouble figuring out that part. (The guy who bought my other office furniture had a four-man crew who were like a clown comedy troupe - I actually had to walk out of the office so I wouldn't have a giggle fit watching them trying to figure out what they were doing.)
Anyway, when I met the guy today, I remember thinking that I hoped he had someone to do his marketing and networking for him, because he had all the personality of a wet Kleenex. What a sad sack.
The funny part happened when they were loading the truck. They had three guest chairs, a desk chair on casters, and a conference table left to load, and they had plenty of room left to do it IF they used a little sense. Of course they did not know that I (a) used to put together furniture like that for a living, (b), used to design furniture displays for stores, so I know what can fit where, and (c) have moved so many times that I can pack a truck in my sleep. They were scratching their heads when I suggested that they take off the top of the conference table, wrap it in a packing blanket and put it either beside or atop the desk so it wouldn't slide around, and they'd be able to fit all the chairs with no problem. Mr. Personality apparently didn't like hearing a suggestion from a female, so he grumped a bit and shoved the furniture around inside the truck, trying to get the table to fit. No go.
Finally he did take the top off the base and voila! it fit like magic. The three guest chairs went right in with plenty of room to spare for the desk chair. But here's where the giggles come in: instead of putting the desk chair in and laying it down so it wouldn't roll (or tying it to the wall), he put it in the bed of his spiffy new Z71 truck and tried to jam the hard tonneau cover down on it. It was very obvious that the base of the chair was about a foot too high for the cover to close, and there was no way to get it to work. I was standing there thinking, "If I had suggested putting that chair in there, he would have looked at me like I was kah-razy". His son was practically standing on the tonneau cover trying to get it down far enough to lock. After about ten minutes I couldn't stand it anymore and said, "Ummm...guys...you have tons of space for that chair in the back of the trailer..." He gave me another dirty look and retorted, "But it might roll around!" I said, "Welllll...you can just lie it down like you had it in your truck bed."
He dug it out of the truck bed and sent his son inside the building to pick up their tools while he secured it in the trailer. I locked up the building and went to get in my car. Before I pulled away, I asked him if he knew how to get back to the Turnpike. He said "YES!" - pause - sheepish look - "Ummm....I think so." I told him the easiest way out was to turn right on Freeport Road (right in front of where he was parked), go to the end and turn right again, take the 28 south ramp for Pittsburgh and take the Harmar exit. I could tell by his expression that he thought they were going to just retrace their steps from the way in, which you can't do because of Dallas Avenue being a one-way street - but I couldn't let him get lost on the back streets of the Heights that way.
He reminded me of Leo's friend Mike on our bike trip out West. Mike insisted on being the trip planner/navigator, but he didn't plan too well and kept running us all over creation backtracking to different sites when we could have spent more time seeing things and less time zigzagging all over New Mexico and Arizona. Poor Mike's ego couldn't handle that a woman might actually be a better navigator than he was, until he got all screwed up in Silver City, NM and realized that I was really good at map reading.
Some guys just need to get over themselves and listen to suggestions from women as well as other men.
I sold off the last suite of office furniture this evening to a guy from Ohio who was opening a new branch office for his business. He arrived at my old office at 6 with a U-Haul trailer, a toolbox and his son. I had some large case pieces that needed to be partially disassembled for moving, and they didn't have much trouble figuring out that part. (The guy who bought my other office furniture had a four-man crew who were like a clown comedy troupe - I actually had to walk out of the office so I wouldn't have a giggle fit watching them trying to figure out what they were doing.)
Anyway, when I met the guy today, I remember thinking that I hoped he had someone to do his marketing and networking for him, because he had all the personality of a wet Kleenex. What a sad sack.
The funny part happened when they were loading the truck. They had three guest chairs, a desk chair on casters, and a conference table left to load, and they had plenty of room left to do it IF they used a little sense. Of course they did not know that I (a) used to put together furniture like that for a living, (b), used to design furniture displays for stores, so I know what can fit where, and (c) have moved so many times that I can pack a truck in my sleep. They were scratching their heads when I suggested that they take off the top of the conference table, wrap it in a packing blanket and put it either beside or atop the desk so it wouldn't slide around, and they'd be able to fit all the chairs with no problem. Mr. Personality apparently didn't like hearing a suggestion from a female, so he grumped a bit and shoved the furniture around inside the truck, trying to get the table to fit. No go.
Finally he did take the top off the base and voila! it fit like magic. The three guest chairs went right in with plenty of room to spare for the desk chair. But here's where the giggles come in: instead of putting the desk chair in and laying it down so it wouldn't roll (or tying it to the wall), he put it in the bed of his spiffy new Z71 truck and tried to jam the hard tonneau cover down on it. It was very obvious that the base of the chair was about a foot too high for the cover to close, and there was no way to get it to work. I was standing there thinking, "If I had suggested putting that chair in there, he would have looked at me like I was kah-razy". His son was practically standing on the tonneau cover trying to get it down far enough to lock. After about ten minutes I couldn't stand it anymore and said, "Ummm...guys...you have tons of space for that chair in the back of the trailer..." He gave me another dirty look and retorted, "But it might roll around!" I said, "Welllll...you can just lie it down like you had it in your truck bed."
He dug it out of the truck bed and sent his son inside the building to pick up their tools while he secured it in the trailer. I locked up the building and went to get in my car. Before I pulled away, I asked him if he knew how to get back to the Turnpike. He said "YES!" - pause - sheepish look - "Ummm....I think so." I told him the easiest way out was to turn right on Freeport Road (right in front of where he was parked), go to the end and turn right again, take the 28 south ramp for Pittsburgh and take the Harmar exit. I could tell by his expression that he thought they were going to just retrace their steps from the way in, which you can't do because of Dallas Avenue being a one-way street - but I couldn't let him get lost on the back streets of the Heights that way.
He reminded me of Leo's friend Mike on our bike trip out West. Mike insisted on being the trip planner/navigator, but he didn't plan too well and kept running us all over creation backtracking to different sites when we could have spent more time seeing things and less time zigzagging all over New Mexico and Arizona. Poor Mike's ego couldn't handle that a woman might actually be a better navigator than he was, until he got all screwed up in Silver City, NM and realized that I was really good at map reading.
Some guys just need to get over themselves and listen to suggestions from women as well as other men.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
A perfect day...
I start my new job on Thursday, so I had an extra two days off after the 4th. My weekend was a blast, and I was going to spend Tuesday doing laundry and cleaning the apartment. I had a 10 AM appointment who didn't show up and then rescheduled (again) for Saturday morning, so I was up and out and noticing what a gorgeous day it was. Hmmmmm...
So I bagged the chores for another day, and took off in the Mini for a road trip. Went up and jumped on I-79 beyond Butler and cruised up to Meadville, then took a couple of little PA routes to cut across up to North East. Sucking down iced coffee and enjoying the ride...blue sky, sunshine, 80 degrees, NO haze of humidity - I could see forever as I topped each ridge. The roof was open and the windows were down and my hair was ruffled by the wind. Daylilies and wildflowers blooming at the roadsides. The smell of fresh-cut lawns and the fields of hay and corn, with the round hay bales looking like big tan marshmallows dropped from God's hands. An occasional Amish buggy and a lot of bikers. I was missing my old Harley, but enjoying the Mini as always.
I topped a ridge just south of I-90 and could see the lake, deep blue stretching far into the distance. I drove down to PA route 5, the lake road, and turned west. Rode that all the way to Conneaut, Ohio, after a stopover on Presque Isle to drive the whole peninsula and sit on the beach for an hour or so with my toes in the sand (in the shade, of course).
As the sun began to sink westward I turned south on route 18 and headed down to Conneaut Lake, then looped back to Meadville for dinner at the Cracker Barrel. My usual: spicy grilled catfish, fried okra and a double helping of hash brown casserole. Yum.
There was hardly any traffic coming home, even when I passed by the Big Butler Fair. Didn't see any deer, either (whew).
Windblown, a little red on my left arm, full of catfish and iced tea and a little hoarse from singing along with the Doors and Death Cab and Depeche Mode and New Order...I pulled in twelve hours after I left. A perfect day. Only one ingredient would have made it even better...
So I bagged the chores for another day, and took off in the Mini for a road trip. Went up and jumped on I-79 beyond Butler and cruised up to Meadville, then took a couple of little PA routes to cut across up to North East. Sucking down iced coffee and enjoying the ride...blue sky, sunshine, 80 degrees, NO haze of humidity - I could see forever as I topped each ridge. The roof was open and the windows were down and my hair was ruffled by the wind. Daylilies and wildflowers blooming at the roadsides. The smell of fresh-cut lawns and the fields of hay and corn, with the round hay bales looking like big tan marshmallows dropped from God's hands. An occasional Amish buggy and a lot of bikers. I was missing my old Harley, but enjoying the Mini as always.
I topped a ridge just south of I-90 and could see the lake, deep blue stretching far into the distance. I drove down to PA route 5, the lake road, and turned west. Rode that all the way to Conneaut, Ohio, after a stopover on Presque Isle to drive the whole peninsula and sit on the beach for an hour or so with my toes in the sand (in the shade, of course).
As the sun began to sink westward I turned south on route 18 and headed down to Conneaut Lake, then looped back to Meadville for dinner at the Cracker Barrel. My usual: spicy grilled catfish, fried okra and a double helping of hash brown casserole. Yum.
There was hardly any traffic coming home, even when I passed by the Big Butler Fair. Didn't see any deer, either (whew).
Windblown, a little red on my left arm, full of catfish and iced tea and a little hoarse from singing along with the Doors and Death Cab and Depeche Mode and New Order...I pulled in twelve hours after I left. A perfect day. Only one ingredient would have made it even better...
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