Deutchland

Been awake now for a long time, but actual, factual data on that will require subtraction, something I’m not yet in the mood for…1:15 PM EST, so I’ve been up for 27.25 hours. There. Writing this on a train from Bielefield (sp?) to Berlin with a broken dinner tray—excuse the poorer handwriting. The flight in got a little bumpy but overall it was great—even got a free continental breakfast! It was plenty better than that reheated chicken hide or whatever for dessert. Anyway, Deusseldorf International is awful quiet at 7 AM. Haven’t seen the sun yet; maybe I will in the morning. Ed Jr. has confused everyone by doing errands while he tries to show us around the place. We went to the bank like 4 times today, for example. And speaking of the bank, and of subtraction, my debit card does not work here; dangit. We were able to go to the bank and get 100 bucks out of a credit card but we tried to pay for a hotel with it and it got denied. Don’t know what that means, exactly; will have to make a few meaningless phone calls. Since I can barely keep conscience [sic] I better go before I go comatose.

$7 for a battery? A battery? This trip is already expensive. I wonder how many surcharges my credit card will tack on when I’m buying waffles in Belgium. Anyho, the trip will start in about 1 hour when I start taking my Dramamine. Actually, it’s the generic, Wal-Mart Dramamine that comes in packs of 100, instead of 8. 8? I’ve got more traveling than that to do! H*ck, I was feeling a little queasy on the ride here…So in this next hour I have to find something to do:

1) The Landmark Bar, right across the hall. Dressed up in that Art Decoish, Frank Lloyd Wrightish stuff. I feel like getting’ me a sandwich.

2) GAMEBOY ADVANCE! Just got it for Christmas yesterday. Now I bought 3 more games on the way here! There is no way I’m going to have a boring flight, not with Donkey Kong, Tony Hawk and good ol’ Gradius to keep me company. And sure, I could talk to Joe as well, but Joe is, well, kind of a tool. Good thing I bought lots of batteries.

CD: Weezer, compilation CD

This is it, and yes, Jeff, I'm writing a weblog a day ahead again. Tomorrow I'm leaving for Europe for two weeks and I assuming I die on the way there you'll at least get to look at this and think I had some divine intuition about the whole think. It's been snowing for two days straight anyway, so maybe a plane crash isn't such a far-off idea. But if I'm going to go put myself at risk of death, I'm hoping it'll be while saving my fellow Americans from a crazed terrorist. I've already planned out that if there's a terrorist on board, I'm going to beat him up (to put it mildly). I'm gonna get all Delta Force on him. On the upside, I'll become a hero to America, and make everyone feel better about this great land of ours. On the downside, my friend Joe will probably be next to me on the plane, sleeping the whole time, and I'll have to explain to him the whole story about how I became an American hero while he snoozed AGAIN during a trip. Alas. So anyway, I'll try to write a trip journal and post it up here when I get back. You'll probably see some pictures as well; have a Happy New Year. (I'll be under the Eiffel Tower when the clock strikes 12:00.)

"This one's for the Constitution! This one's for freedom! And this one's for your friends!" --Me, during the dramatic scene from the future movie depicting me whacking the thwarted terrorist assailant unconscious with his own gun.

CD: Jimi Hendrix, "Merry Christmas And Happy New Year"

I got a Game Boy! My brother is getting stranger all the time: first, he never has any money, second, he's the only person that bought anyone any Christmas presents this year. He must have collaborated with Dad or Santa Claus or Colin Powell or someone. These aren't cheapo gifts, either; we're talking a Game Boy for me, and a DVD player for Dad, etc., etc. Though I'm happy as h*ck to finally get that Game Boy Advance--I thought this day would never come! I can play Tetris anywhere!--I just had to ask my brother what was up. After watching so many Christmas specials in my life, and going to too many O. Henry plays, it couldn't be true, you know? "So Tim," I asked humbly, "tell me the truth: how long did you have to sell drugs to get all this stuff?" Tim just laughed. Which could mean anything... And Mom got a big candle!

"Before you think of Eminem as the baddest rapper of all time, remember he lived with his mom until he was 26." --Eminem's Mom

CD: Beatles, "Past Masters Volume 2"

Rock and roll! Tonight's Christmas Eve service was part revival, part talk show, part Osbournes. Our church is one of the ones with a Praise Band and a big computer projector that can broadcast PowerPoint. Combine this with some decent, practiced segwaying and a few hundred people with candles, and guess what: pyrotechnics. With each song, the lights went down or up depending on the mood. "Everybody get up and let's...!" started a number of songs. During the big finale, the great rock ballad "Silent Night" was sung along to with the Methodist equivalent of lighters. My brother, who avoids church depending on the decade, participated louder than everyone else, clapping louder, singing louder, getting really psyched. "Yeah!" he said to the family sitting in front of him as the lights came down. "Are you ready to rock?!" Ooh, and I love when they do the medley of hits from their Christmas album!

"I haven't been here in years! Whoa, that guy's old now!" --my brother

CD: Grateful Dead, "Terrapin Station"

Nobody in my family is getting any other member of my family anything for Christmas. Finally, after years of half-hearted giving, we have given up. Well, almost. We may share a dinner or something. And though we don't even have a tree up, we have already watched more Christmas specials on TV this year. I am going to Europe the day after Christmas, so I promised to "bring back stuff;" these poor substitutes for Christmas presents will probably come in the form of mugs and trinkets like miniature Eiffel Towers or little pieces of cheese with the word "Geneva" on it. I dunno. But we told our father about the Greatest Gift of All--a new shower stall for the bathroom--that would suffice as an all-encompassing gift substitute. We went to Home Depot and looked around. So I guess what I really want for Christmas involves plumbing and grout. For some reason, there aren't many Christmas sales at Home Depot....

"I DON'T KNOW WHICH WAY!! WHY ARE YOU GETTING UPSET AT ME?!!" --according to Dawn, a somewhat paranoid taxi driver

CD: Jimi Hendrix Experience, "BBC Sessions"

There isn't much to do here. I've already spent like two hours on the internet, and I've played pinball on the off-hours. Remember "3-D Space Pinball" from your Windows 95 disk? It's still on Windows XP! What a great game. I got to something like six million points today, which is probably my third-best of all time, even when I was using it on Windows 98. It's so dead over here that I've started doing homework for next semester, and am about a hundred pages ahead so far. Mmm...Historical Research Methodology. Just saying it makes one feel envigorated. Besides that, well, I found some chocolate, and opened up a few letters. Three checks came in the mail, woohoo! I guess I could organize my "To Be Filed" file folder, or just go to bed and get that full six hours of sleep. Goodness, I have a pathetic life. Even on my time off work I find ways to suck life out of things. Hey, where'd I put my stampbook?

"Congratulations, you are a complete nerd." --the results of my online Test of Geographic Knowledge

CD: Mexican Cession, "Full Color Bitch Slap Attack"

Since school is out and the work has been slow, I've decided to do some spring cleaning early. No one helps. Nevertheless, I pick up other peoples' messes, some of which have been lying around for years. Last night's goal was to be the room just above the stairs, which has unofficially become "storage;" a.k.a. "there's no room to walk in that room." My problem with cleaning, however, is that I'm the worst person to do it. I get so allergic to flying particles of who-knows-what that I go through about fifty Kleenex in an afternoon. Last night, I went to that room above the stairs and turned on the lights. I immediately started hacking, sneezing, and swelling around the eyes. Dang. Twenty-four hours later and I want to jump back in the trenches. This is the part of the movie when one of my platoon buddies goes "But you'll never make it! It's a suicide mission!" and I'll say something in return, like "I've got to avenge my father's death" or something corny like that. Mmm, corn. Maybe I'll eat first; I'm hungry.


"Virgo: (Aug. 23—Sept. 22) Certain shortcomings in your education and upbringing cause you to read meaning into the relationships among various celestial bodies." --The Onion

CD: Foo Fighters, "One By One"

Son of a gun. I was going to write about Morning Hair. You know, when you wake up in the morning and your hair is about ten feet up to one side. Today mine was especially cool, as twelve hours of sleep pushed everything to the left side of my head, leaving a monstrous apex about two-thirds of the way over. It was magnificent. I had also gotten a haircut two days ago, so instead of a Rocky Mountain of hair it was more like an Appalachian Mountain of hair. It looked like a Mohawk, like the one Eddie Vedder has been sporting lately. But, NO! I can't write about my hair. Joe beat me to it! What with his new haircut and his Dave Grohl stylist and it's only a coincidence that I was listening to the Foo Fighters last night, it really was! Now no one will believe me; I'm just ripping of Joe's weblog. Son of a gun. Son of a gun.

"It used to be, we couldn't wear sunglasses during an interview; no, no, that would be so rude. But now we realize: it's not that you're wearing sunglasses during an interview that's important, it's what KIND of sunglasses you're wearing during an interview." --U2's The Edge on humility

CD: Meat Puppets, "Meat Puppets II" [enhanced rerelease]

Did you know I'm Spider-Man? Not even I knew my secret identity. During the course of the average day as a substitute teacher, I am inundated by numerous odd questions such as "Do we have to do this?", "Are you married/How old are you?", and my personal favorite, "Are you a REAL teacher?" But most of all, the kids love the fun of celebrity look-a-likes. Keanu Reeves I've heard before. Excellent. Recently I've also heard I look like Jim Carrey, and since Keanu Reeves and Jim Carrey don't look anything alike I have no idea what's going through their developing minds. But last week I heard that I looked like Spider-Man. They later clarified that I look like Tobey Maguire, the guy that played Spider-Man in the movie. Whew. That makes much more sense than what I was thinking. "Hmm," I thought to myself, "The Tobey Maguire before he got bit in the lab, or after?" I think I already knew the answer. Everyone puts on a few pounds in the wintertime...

Sign outside a Dodge dealership in Clarence, New York: "THE BOSS TOLD ME TO CHANGE THE SIGN, SO I DID!"

CD: BS 2000, "Simply Mortified"

I am astounded by the quality of parking at the American Automobile Association. Really. First, entering the lot is easy. It's right out in front, and the parking lot has several enterances and exits. The spots are very big, and the lot is also full of large trees making for an almost uncorrupted canopy. There are so many trees around the cars, in fact, that you can barely see the building. How wonderfully car-centric. I think it's good to see an organization that is so dedicated to their line of work...That is, compared to the American Legion, which has its own bar. Would AAA have a bar? I don't think so! I think they have better things to do. Anyway, they're high-class enough to serve champagne instead. Did the troops drink Budweiser as they attacked Pearl Harbor? I don't think so!

"SHITFUCKDOPEAINTCOOLCRACKASSDANG!" --Jeff

CD: B.B. King and Eric Clapton, “Riding With The King”

DIVINE INTERVENTION OF THE YEAR POST

Someone asked me to go to their church on Sunday night. I told them thank you for asking, but because of work I would miss a good part of the service. Also, I had a radio show that night at three in the morning; I couldn’t do all three things. So I said I’d visit another time when I’m not working weekends anymore. Instead, I went home and set the alarm for 1 AM to get up and be a DJ. Meanwhile, while I slept the snowstorm moved in. They said it’d be something like six inches that night, but why think about something you’re going to miss most of?

So here’s something people like me have to learn about snowstorms in Buffalo: there is an army of men and trucks that get rid of the snow, but they don’t start until about four in the morning. People that want to be somewhere at three, shouldn’t. After getting several inches of snow and freezing rain off my car I set out at 2 AM. Visibility was low and the roads were vacant of travelers. Somewhere outside of Millgrove on Genesee, I lost control of my car, slid to the left and rammed into someone’s mailbox. I never did find the mailbox. Anyway, my car only suffered two small scratches and wasn’t stuck, so I got back in the car and kept going. (I wondered, should I leave a note? And then I realized: where was I going to put it, in their mailbox?)

About three miles later on Genesee, a little past Ransom Road going towards Buffalo, my wheels got caught. I started skidding again, and this time spinning as well. As the scenery spun around I saw an oncoming truck, an awfully close, reinforced road sign (the kind with two metal posts, not one), then my own skid marks, and then the snowbank stopped me. I thought, “Huh.” The truck that saw it happen stopped, and he had a cell phone; I called my father to say I ran off the road, that I’d probably be all right but that he might want to come down just in case. As the guy drove off I then I got out of the car to look at the damage. There was none. None. Underneath my back passenger tire, however...another mailbox. I propped it up against the reinforced road sign and pulled out my shovel.

I was able to dig myself out quite easily and it wasn’t hard to decide I was going to turn around and go back home–the car was already pointed in that direction anyway, so the car decided for me. I waited half an hour for my father, then decided he was either going 22 miles an hour or got into an accident myself. Of course, one minute later he came down the road the opposite direction from me. And, of course, he didn’t notice me. That meant I had to go follow him, hazard lights blinking and horn honking. I caught up to him and he still didn’t notice me. Eventually I had to try and pass him in zero visibility to get his attention and make him turn around. I caught him another two or three miles down from where I hit the second mailbox. By now it was 4:30 in the morning, and the snow plows had passed by me, clearing my way home.

So in retrospect, here’s what happened: I got in two accidents with little more than a scratch. The only other person on the road in twenty minutes just happened to see my last accident and also happened to have a phone the second I needed it. If I had spun off the road two seconds before I did, I would have hit a sign that could of done serious damage to my car; five seconds later, and I would have hit the truck that helped me. And when I finally got a hold of my dad to end my little adventure, where was I? Right across the street from the entrance to the LoveJoy Gospel Church, where I was asked to attend just hours before. Coincidence? And the CD that just happened to be in my rotation on the ride back? The one listed above: B.B. King and Eric Clapton’s “Riding With The King.” The King of Kings, folks; ‘tis the season!


F: “Jerry?”
J: “Yeah.”
F: “Um, I’m here on Genesee. I, uh, I’m off the road.”
J: “GREAT.”

CD: Johnny Cash, "Orange Blossom Special"

Christmas is coming, and I've finally solved the great Christmas mystery. No, it's not where Baby Jesus was born, or how Santa gets down the chimney. I'm talking about socks. Every year myself and my siblings would get socks by the dozens, and by Christmas the next year, we would all be out of socks again! How does it happen? I found the answer. First, my siblings would never pick up their socks. I would, and throw them into a large box marked "clothes." Then, they would take MY socks, and I would vicariously put them in the "clothes" box. Each year I would fill a new box. This year, I opened all the boxes to see what I could give to Goodwill, and you know what I found? One pairs of danged socks, that's what! White ones, ribbed ones, elastic ones, white ones, reinforced toe ones, white ones, tubed ones, white ones, crew ones, and white ones. Ever sort one hundred pairs of socks! It's a rush! Whoo! Get back! Hurt myself!

"Dude, you look weird." --one longtime friend to another, after walking into a room

CD: Eminem, "The Eminem Show"

I was watching Fox News, which I don't recommend, and "news" about Christmas at the White House came up. There was Mrs. Bush with bunch of kids near a tree, and the kids were asking questions about the White House, but mostly about how Santa gets in and out of the White House. She said there were a lot of big chimneys, or something like that; anyway, she said she really didn't know. And THEN the camera panned over and there was jolly ol' Saint Nick himself. So c'mon kids, just ask the man! You can do it! And come to think about it, if you were three or four years old, who would you want to talk to, Santa or the First Lady? Darn right! This was most definitely a photo op without common sense. Another way you could tell the whole thing was scripted was by the kids' questions. If you're in a room with 20 little kids and you ask them if they have any questions, fully eight of them will not know the definition of "question." One will try to tell a story about how they have a dog, and yesterday that dog was caught eating that night's meatloaf and their mom got mad and hit the dog with a newspaper and made it go outside. Then another kid will sit in the corner sucking their thumb. Within fifteen minutes, three will have to go to the bathroom, or will go without getting up. Someone will cry. But here at the White House? Every kid sits patiently, waiting for their turn to talk. Well, maybe they've been the really, REALLY Good Kids.

"F*** YOU LYNN CHENEY! F*** YOU TIPPER GORE!" --Eminem, who obviously didn't get invited to meet Santa in Washington this year

CD: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, "Xtra Acme USA"

Not doing anything today. Instead, the following self-imposed chores:

Sleeping!

Once again, for another 2 hours, looking for those Windows 98 modem drivers my computer somehow "lost." Mind you, I'm trying to hook up an Ethernet connection with the thing, and why it needs modem drivers is apparantly not my business.

A nice walk to the bank to pick up my seventeen dollars! My, what brisk weather!

My laundry mission continues. I am washing every stray piece of clothes in the house; unclaimed articles will be devoted to the Salvation Army. I'm on my 15th load right now.

Called AAA about buying train tickets in the Netherlands. Surprisingly, they knew what I was talking about.

Reading about the mythical story of Murder Creek, kind of our local ghost story. Check it out at www.geocities.com/newstea...ciety.htm.

Thinkin' 'bout stuff.

Looking into this har thing with the cable that wut brings broadband into my home. Broadband? Is that like, uh, the Andrews Sisters?

Trying to appease my rabid blog fans--all five of them.

"JeffIM: are you on your laptop/
TomServo0: YES i am.
JeffIM: nimbavirus.exe
JeffIM: then click that!"

CD: Shel Silverstein, various mix CDs

I knew it would happen. Yesterday I wrote about attempting to clean my house despite the adversity posed by my allergies. Today I fought the law, and the law won. But I still succeeded! I cleaned that pesky room, or at least put everything in that room in a manageable place (empty closets are wonderful). Meanwhile, the entire time I was doing this I sneezed and dripped and lost more bodily fluids than I can remember ever intaking within the last two days. So I went to dinner suffering with a sporadic bloody nose; so what? What surprises me more is not the level of the inevitable but the discoveries uncovered. Like, I had no idea we kept enough styrofoam in that room to fill an oil drum. Or enough cardboard products to, well, fill up another oil drum. So I'd like to invite everyone over to an oil drum fire at my place. We'll be making s'mores, dude. You gotta come if there are s'mores!

"You should send ME to space, and then I can run for President of the Moon!" --Rev. Al Sharpton on MTV

CD: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, "Now I Got Worry"

Laptop computers are beautiful things. Today I slept for a full TWELVE hours today. The past few days I have either been writing papers all day, or getting up at ghastly pre-sun times to go to work, or this nasty pain in my back--no, not Al Gore--has kept me in a stationary position. Long story short, I wake up like an hour and a half ago but I'm still not OUT OF BED! I've checked my E-mails, read the news, listened to music, written letters, talked with friends, had a couple laughs, looked at a few message boards...and I haven't even sat up yet! Granted, when I finally DO sit up it will be extremely painful, but think of all the possibilities! I could be the next Howard Hugues! Heck, I could be the next--um, you know, that physicist guy in the wheelchair! Awesome! That physicist guy in the wheelchair was once on Star Trek!

"And after our perfect day, we could go to the movies, we could...get a hot dog....Have you ever had a hot dog, baby? With onions, and saurkraut?" --Jon Spencer Blues Explosion

CD: Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Mother's Milk"

A couple of nights ago I bent down to get into my car (because I drive a Cavalier, gall dang!) and something in my neck went "crack." Not a loud, angry crack, like Marion Barry, but kind of a "crik." I might have said something like "huh" or a real small "ow" but I really wasn't worried. Then it hurt to raise my head. Then it hurt to move my head left and right. Then I had to roll over every time I wanted to stand up because if I didn't it would feel like someone had just jammed a sword down my spinal column. Though it's slowly wearing off, at its peak the entire top half of my back, my shoulders, my neck and head were incapable of moving anywhere without me going "a a a aaaahhhhHHHHHH!" "Ow." "Aw ahhhw ow!" and then I would gasp for air, though I still have no idea why, since I couldn't do anything less physical than lying prostrate on my bed.

"Sorry Fred, I Kid! I Kid! I Kid cause I love!" --Ed Snyder

CD: Queens of the Stone Age, "Songs For the Deaf"

Nothing says "I'm an old man now" like getting up at 5:30 in the morning, putting on some dress clothes and going out to breakfast. Firstoff, I didn't even know restaurants were open that early. Second, where did all these people come from? They're older, of course (I went with my father), but even though they've still got to go to work right after they eat they aren't rushed, they take their time eating, they make conversation with the waitress, they read the paper real slow, they say hi to the other two or three people they know in the diner, they sip their coffee every minute or so and even have time for a few refills. Freaks! You can drink coffee while you drive, you know, and there's NPR if you want to stay informed. These people pretend like they have nothing to do! I wonder how they act after work, when there really IS nothing to do. All the relaxing stuff has already been done! Crazy.

"Hey, how's your drivetime commute? What's the SAGA. I need a saga! It's Songs for the Deaf. You can't even hear it!" --Queens of the Stone Age

CD: Blur, "Parklife"

For shizzle my nizzle! So I was watching the show "Rock The House" on VH1 the other day, which is another cheesy attempt by the music industry to cash in on one of its twenty or so profitable acts... anyway, the idea behind the show is that a music star redecorates a fan's house without them knowing, and then the fan comes home and gets all shocked and stuff and then meets the artist and is all shocked and stuff and they love the house and they get a free Sony Flatscreen TV and everyone lives happily ever after. But Snoop...I'm worried about Snoop Dogg. He redecorated a girl's house, but during everything he did, he spoke with that "izzle" talk only he seems to use and understand. "I gotta mizzle my tizzle for shizzle cuz my heezy weezy! A Lizzle my nizzle!" Wuh? I used to think he might have learned this think during his stint in prison. Since phone conversations are taped in jail, I could he him and other prisoners using the "izzle" stuff so nothing they say could ever be used in court. But now i'm pretty sure he's making the crap up as he goes along. No one talks like that unless they're either too rich to care about reality or they're mentally retarded. Then again, Snoop did say he was giving up marijuana because it "makes you stupid." Yep.

He [Bush] recalled the last time he was in Florida, on the morning of Sept. 11, and what went through his mind when the first plane hit New York's World Trade Center: "I used to fly myself, and I said, 'Well, there's one terrible pilot.'"
--Associated Press, Dec. 4, 2001

CD: Sleater-Kinney, "One Beat"

I give up. Since I started doing this weblog thing I've been putting the CD I'm listening to (or listened to that day) up on the top of each post. Well, at the beginning it was easy; in the summer I had time to listen to like five albums a day while I read, drove, or painted the trim on the house. With school starting, however, I narrowed it down to about 2-3 albums. Now it's final exam time, and I just don't have the energy. Not even the energy, it appears, to get up and change the CDs in my player. So if you analyse all of my posts from the start, you will see the first fifty days with fifty different CDs, then the next fifty with a few repeats (Natalie Imbruglia! Yay!) and now, well, it's like listening to my own personal version of KISS 98.5. Sorry, kids. But seriously, Sleater-Kinney made a kick-arse record this year. Dig!

"I have very mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I’m concerned that the rampant downloading of my copyright-protected material over the Internet is severely eating into my album sales and having a decidedly adverse effect on my career. On the other hand, I can get all the Metallica songs I want for FREE! WOW!!!!!" --"Weird Al" Yankovich, on Napster

Edited by: TomServo0 at: 12/7/02 9:21:34 pm

CD: Danko Jones, "Born A Lion"

It's coming! I bought me a brand new laptop--dude, it's a Dell!--online last week. Making the anticipation even tougher to deal with is that wonderful technological advancement known as the UPS Shipment Tracking system, which can tell me all the little stops my laptop is making on it's journey to my house. It's an adventure, just like on that show Belle and Sebastian! Remember, the cartoon about the little boy and his dog that took like 64 episodes to get home? Now my little laptop is in the UPS center in Buffalo (as of 10:40 PM last night) all alone, cold, shivering in the back of some brown, windowless truck. I hope it's doing alright. I wonder what it's thinking... Somewhere, out there/beneath the pale moonlight...

"Is it going to be about food?" --Kurt Cobain, when Weird "Al" Yankovich asked him if he could parody "Smells Like Teen Spirit"

CD: Cee-Lo, "Cee-Lo Green And His Perfect Imperfections"

Over the past few years I would come home from breaks at school, and the house would be extremely messy. Of particular distress was the amount of peoples' clothes on the floor; sometimes washed, sometimes folded or in a hamper, but sometimes not, these clothes would be kicked around, tripped over, and otherwise unclaimed by anyone. And during each of my breaks I would pick up these clothes, put them in a large cardboard box, and tell everyone that if they didn't claim anything in the box it would go to Goodwill. Like I said, years have passed. There are now so many boxes of clothes that they take up a pile, ceiling-high, covering half of the laundry room. I am now in the process of washing all of these clothes. They will be sorted and put on tables, GAP-style, with signs proclaiming "CHRISTMAS CLEARANCE! EVERYTHING MUST GO!" In a psychological kuo, I'm think of charging rock-bottom, warehouse prices for these things I don't own. We'll see what happens.

"If the Good Lord strikes me down tonight, and I still haven't found my true love, I'm gonna die a happy man!" --a somewhat jaded Danko Jones

CD: The Apples In Stereo, "Her Wallpaper Reverie"

Someone recently wrote in an inferior weblog (it was you, Joe!) that they could not decide was good music was anymore. Strangely enough, they asked me for advice. During college, my roommates warned other people that my taste in music was deplorable and probably, since I listened to anything I could get for cheap, nonexistent. The problem is compounded when a young adult, as the male psyche switches from preferring mindless, ear-shattering crap rock (your Limp Bizkits and Korns) to preferring mindless, sleep-inducing acoustic pop (your Travises and Dave Matthews Bands).

What is good music now? If it gets your attention and keeps it, that's a good start. Danko Jones is a good example of that; you can't get bored with it nomatter what you do. Outkast, Har Mar Superstar, Foo Fighters can usually do this. But also consider the work of The Neptunes, who have done work with Britney Spears, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Mystical, as well as their own N.E.R.D. project. Try them out. The Flaming Lips are also doing things that haven't been heard before.

Depending on your mood, maybe you shouldn't listen to music. Get into some older music; jazz like Count Basie, Horace Silver or Dick Hyman. Folk like Ledbelly or Memphis Minnie. The best thing you can do is to go to the public library and find the most obscure-looking, dust-encrusted albums they have. Sounds of the Ancient Incas, for example. Hungarian polkas. And then, if you still don't like music, play two records together and see what happens. My friend Dave and I found a great album that remixed traditional sounds of the culture of Mali with a broken melodica. Either way, stop looking for music and start listening to it....

www.amazon.com/exec/obido...24-4878443

"Hey, the McRib is back!" --Jack Osbourne

CD: Stevie Wonder, "Songs In The Key Of Life"

The shining moment of my Graduate school career thus far (other than the "Shaft" tribute on my radio show a few weeks ago) must be the thesis proposal handed in this Tuesday. Granted, it is probably not that good. It will probably just get a B because I handed it in on time (Education majors can't get lower than a B [I hope] as long as they pay their tuition bill on time). Why so proud of it, you ask? Well, I had all semester to write this twenty-page paper, and did not write a word until the day it was due. I got up at 6:00 AM (I was going to get up at 5 but you know how it is) sat down and churned out not twenty, but THIRTY-TWO pages of text in ten hours. How 'bout them apples? Eh? That includes a bibliography, people!

On a final note, I'd like to thank this weblog for teaching me how to pull words out of my nose at the last minute. And the Academy....


Shaft's woman: "I love you."
Shaft: "Yeah, I know...take it easy."

CD: Dandy Warhols, "Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia"

Tonight the snow was so bad you couldn't see twenty feet in front of you. This happens every once in a while here in Buffalo. First, you hear a little something about some snow, then you kind of forget about and go about your daily business. In most other cities the grocery stores are packed with people trying to buy bottled water at this point. Buffalonians, however, are astute. They know that a steady diet of chicken wings, pizza and the occasional tailgater's feast insures that their body can go three, four days without nourishment. Being trapped in your house for half a week--which happens once a year now--is no problem as long as you have cable. But there was one strange thing I saw that grabbed my attention on the way home. Through the cloud of swirling snow I spotted a man running across the intersection of Main and Salt wearing nothing more than jogging shorts. No shirt, no shoes, no s***! It's 20 degrees outside and there's eight inches of snow! That must be one heck of a frat.

"...and I'm just about to kill someone if I don't buy that notebook!" --Guy who put me on hold, talking to himself

CD: various, "OzzFest 2001 Summer Sampler"

Somehow, I'm going to give two important presentations and write two papers in four days. This doesn't mean that I've done any real prep work yet; yes, I do have all the materials on hand, but no, I haven't put one word down. I also have to work during those days, as well as a few other things including a heck of a long stay a Kinko's; we'll see how that works out. Thank goodness for 24-hour Kinko's! Who is Mr. Kinko anyway? What kind of name is Kinko? Is it anything like Chi-chi's? It was a sad day when they closed Chi-Chi's around here. I only went once, though, with my 7th Grade Home Economics class. Why, I don't know, but it involved free samples so I won't complain. Do you ever look back at your grade school field trips and wonder why you took them? I do, and I have no idea why I went to the zoo, museum, etc. Kind of like this post...I wrote it without knowing what today's "theme" would be, and now I'm done. And it even has a theme! Kinky!

“Corporation: An ingenious device for obtaining profit without individual responsibility.” --Ambrose Bierce

CD: Portishead, "Portishead"

Credit cards are scary. Scarier are credit cards mixed with internet shopping. It's waaaay too easy. So I sit there in my pajamas, looking at my card, looking at the screen, looking at the price, looking back at my card, looking at the clock, checking my mail, looking back at the price, looking at the card again, looking at the button that says BUY IT! and thinking, "Aw man. This is too easy. This isn't right." I had to bring someone into the room and ask them if I should go through with it. "Yeah! Go for it!" they said. Somehow that made me feel worse, but I don't know why. "Free Shipping!" is tempting, yet that BUY IT! button reminds me of Stimpy's "History Eraser" button. Remember that one? The big, shiny, candy-colored button that just HAD to be pushed? It erased all of history, dude! That's freaky!

"Ding dongs, man! Ding dongs! Ding dongs, yo!" --video for Weird "Al" Yankovich's "Fat"

CD: Foo Fighters, "One By One"

At work the television is set stagnant on CNN Headline News. Usually I look at Headline News like I look at USA Today, pointing to an article and telling myself "that's not news, that's useless information." You know, those trivial pie charts on the bottom corner of each section, the blockbuster movie previews on the front page that push a real headine involving national or international politics over to the side. And don't get me started on their "Viewpoints" page. Today I tried looking at Headline News from the perspective of someone trying to learn about capitalism. I learned tons. Headline News has about 8 minutes of commercials, like any other channel, as well as promos that start "Up next..." for their own profit. That's probably another two minutes, including inter-anchor banter. They always talk about the new movies out on screen or on DVD that you can buy, which is another four minutes of time. One of their biggest stories of the day was The First Day of the Christmas Shopping Season, complete with footage of people running like Legion's pigs into a shopping mall. Another two minutes. With that, a wonderful little segment on gifts you can buy for Christmas, with new computer gadgets and someone in a Hello Kitty suit. Four more minutes? Then sports, talking about team ownership and trade disputes and contract negotiations. There were some scores too, but let's give commercialism four more minutes here, since sports in America are for-profit industries. What else? Some report about how oil refineries are getting a bad rap for their environmental problems, but don't worry, their stocks aren't slipping and they look like a solid investment. Really, that was the conclusion of the piece. Five minutes there. And I almost forgot the stock market report; another minute! Now, count it up. What did I learn in half an hour?

"And this is what's going on in your town tonight?" --Ralph Nader

CD: George Harrison, "All Things Must Pass" 2000

David Letterman Is Back! Not the "Late Show with David Letterman" David Letterman, who is good, but the "Late Night with David Letterman" David Letterman, who was also good! Remember the memories? Dave trying to quell a fight between Andy Kauffman and a professional wrestler? The time Dave jumped from a trampoline onto a wall of Velcro? The time he hired a mariachi band to play in a neighbor lady's cubicle for her birthday? Today's episode was especially cool, because R.E.M. was the musical guest. Not the 1990s R.E.M. that everybody knows, but the indie newbies R.E.M. from 1983! They played twice, and one of the songs didn't even have a name because it was so new! AND they got an interview! (Michael Stipe hid behind Mike Mills during the entire thing). That's good TV! And to top it off, the featured guest was Julia Childs, who made ham and cheese sandwiches with Budweiser Beer! ROCK!

"And the best part is, it sounds even better singing IN, than when I'm singing OUT! YOU! Always naysaying!" --Jack Black, "Tenacious D"

CD: Smashing Pumpkins, "Judas 0"

Is it spelled triptophane? Anyhoo, Thanksgiving is the only time in America where it is considered polite to overeat. If you do not take seconds, or try at least two kinds of pie, you are a rude guest/host/family member. Aunt Ethel was working all day to make those 23 pies, galldurnit, eat sumpthin'! I find it strange because here in America two-thirds of us are overweight. You'd think that there were other days where this was really acceptable. Yes, Christmas is filled with ham and whatnot, but it's more about spending money (more about that later). The Fourth of July has hot-dog eating contests, but the latest champion--two years running--has been Japanese (competitors say it's unfair because the Japanese have two stomachs; no joke)! Easter has those big chocolate bunnies where you bite the ears off first, but nobody ever finishes them. On a side note, I was wondering why they didn't have big chocolate Jesuses instead, and then I though about how we eat the bunnies. For the first time, the chocolate rabbits made sense!

Do I?


"I don't even want to call that a song..." --MTV VJ on Las Ketchup's "The Ketchup Song"

CD: Sleater-Kinney, "One Beat"

I'm waiting on a friend. Is that a Rolling Stones song? Last week, one hundred students sat in this very computer lab and refused to leave as a protest against short library hours. I admire that, and would have joined in the protest had I known about it, but dang! How did they stay here so long without being bored about of their minds? They were probably Talking Amongst Themselves. Here I have the Internet, which is like saying "A weekend in jail isn't too bad as long as you have a good novel to read!" And the people I usually talk to? That's who I'm waiting for! So I must wait here alone at a computer hoping for an IM because I don't own a cell phone and the pay phones are fifty cents now and I could use my calling card but with pay phones they take an extra nine minutes off so what's that use and There they are. Thank goodness, I'm starving. I'll see you folks later.

"Brute Force Method. Eat 'em and smile." --Tim Schrock

CD: U2, "Best Of 1990-2000: The B-Sides"

I took last week off of work so I could get homework done. I'm old enough now so that I don't believe I'll actually get anything accomplished, and I've lived up to my own hype. Five full days and nothing to show for it. How many times did I have the books in my hands, ready to type? How many times did I mentally plan out the days when I would get A, B, C, and D done, even down to a calculation of pages written per day? How many times did I say to myself, "I shall go get a piece of pie/check the mail/watch TV for 30 minutes and then start"? How many times did I finally give up and go to bed early? How many licks does it take to get to the center of my problem? One? A-two? A-three? I guess I'll never know. O sweet, sugary procrastination, how you torment me!

"It's so exciting, you can't wait/You finally get to graduate/We hope that all your dreams come true/Congratulations, class of 2002!" --"Smarter," the Beanie Baby owl slash last-minute graduation present

CD: Soundgarden, "Badmotorfinger"

I don't feel like writing anything today so I'll just copy the away messages from my buddy list:

#1:
I'm near my computer, just not close enough to see that you im'ed me. Leave a message anyway, and i'll be back.

Happy 21st to the Akron class of '99!

The most disgusting thing i've ever seen. Period.
www.sulzanti.net/hedonchub/

A+G
AxP
ANDRIZESQE

#2:
help. help ive got no e-mail

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Property of Ones:

The ONE^itude is directionally proportional to the COLD^itude of the ONE.

"Because A One That Isn't Cold, Is Scarcely A One At All" -- S.B.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nov232002 (3:48:08 AM): errg.
AClNOM (3:48:15 AM): ::hug::
Nov232002 (3:48:19 AM): yeah.
Nov232002 (3:48:21 AM): that.

#3:
Oh, ALGORITHMS how do I hate thee... let me count the ways.
No Information Provided

#4:
I'll be at the church all day sunday, then i'll be in houghton to visit some good buddies! Be on the look out!

Seminary Student: Christ the King, East Aroura NY
Intern @ Orchard Park Wesleyan Church
Wedding Date: August 2nd, 2003

#5:
gettin' some gas

What Flavour Are You? I taste like alcohol, surprise surprise!! :-)

#6:
sickness sucks!

Countdowns!
1 day till Jeff comeshome!!
2 days till Fatih turns 20!
4 days till Thanksgiving!
10 days till Bianca turns 21!

The Few, The Proud, The D-Force!

"So cry just a little for me
If your love could be caged,
honey I would hold the key
And conceal it underneath the pile of lies you handed me
And you'd hunt those lies
They'd be all you'd ever find
And that'd be all you'd have to know For me to be fine"

#7:
brb
Note: AOL member profiles are not accessible through AOL Instant Messenger.

"The coolest pet animal would be a duck-billed platypus because you'd be the most popular person on your block with such an ugly animal." --Sarah Whitlocke

CD: Ravel, "Bolero"

As I sat trying to find extra room in my stomach for the fish fry special, a dreadful thought occurred to me: on Thanksgiving Day, I will be required to stuff inordinate amounts of [bland] food into my body in an act of blind patriotism. Chances are I won't be cooking it, and the chances are even greater that I won't deserve it. So while at the diner, stuffed, I decided that I will fast for Thanksgiving; well, as much as I can without looking rude. The leftovers usually last until Christmas dinner anyway, so I won't be missing anything. But I definitely won't have breakfast or lunch, and I'm thinking of skipping dinner the night before as well. We'll be going to Grandma's for pie later--I'll partake in that because if I don't I'll be disowned.

Which reminds me: the day after Thanksgiving is the busiest shopping day of the year. It is also National Don't Buy Anything Day, a protest against the pervasive commercialization of our culture. Instead of going shopping, spend some quality time with the family. Take a walk or make a snowman (where applicable), create handmade gifts, call a loved one. Don't let the Coca-Cola Santa tell you how to celebrate a religious holiday!

Or, just get some homework done. You promised you would...


"All I wanna do, zoom-a zoom zoom zoom and a boom boom" --Wreckz In Effect

"I wanna really really really wanna zig-a zig ha" --Spice Girls

CD: The Presidents Of The United States Of America, "The Presidents Of The United States Of America"

Yesterday there was an ammonia leak at the Perry's Ice Cream plant about six doors down, at about 1 in the morning. The air was acidicly pungent: the ammonia got in your eyes, nose and mouth. It was odd because I was taking out the garbage at the time, so I thought it was that, and then I realized that my nose was burning from the inside, and there were cops and firemen all over the street. Within about 30 minutes we were asked to evacuate. "Evacuate" is the key word here, so my mother slept through the whole thing and my brother just kind of sat around. My sister went to visit a friend in Buffalo. My father tried turning all the lights off so the cops wouldn't come over, but when he found out they needed to pick up citizens with school buses he got all excited and volunteered to drive.

I was just about to go to bed, and though I wasn't worried about it I figured I'd check out the scene. Everyone without a place to go was asked to relocate to the town fire hall, so I drove up there. There were about 100-120 people there, mostly young families and really, really old people. It seems like fire halls are havens for senior citizens, what with the bingo display and the stacks of "Forever Young" magazine hanging around. I grabbed me a mag and enjoyed a nice cup of water. They broke out the coffee, pretzels and potato chips, and eventually the cold cuts and bread, but I just came for the atmosphere. Televisions were playing Conan O'Brien, with periodic crawls about us that didn't really tell us anything except that "no injuries have been reported." It was pretty boring.

The Channel 2 news truck was there, however. I don't think the reporter found much to talk about, but I could see him going for the Old Person interview, looking for the oldest, most haggard-looking people he could find. Shortly afterward we were told the police would let us back home. I stayed five more minutes to watch the local news; a young family also stayed because, of course, the dad knew they were going to broadcast live and he wanted to walk past the camera ON AIR! Whee!

So did I. Once the guy's report started I walked out the door, right behind the interview. Wouldn't you know, but waiting outside in an idle bus was my father, waiting to give people a ride.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I just got on TV."

"Could you tell the people inside that a bus is waiting for them?"

I did, but only the young couple got on. Everyone had pretty much left except some really old people who had nothing better to do. This morning the power went out, meaning there's more trouble at the plant, but it's an ice cream plant, not a nuclear reactor, and there isn't much to worry about. So anyway, that was my evening.


Man: "Did you see me?! Did you see me walk by?!"
Wife: "I did! You were on the TV screen!"
Man: "Ha ha!"

CD: Stevie Wonder, "Songs In The Key Of Life"

A couple of nights ago I had a dream that Ed was dead. "But Fred," you could have said, "your head was in bed. Ed's not dead!" 'Tis true. At first I felt bad about the whole thing. After all, Ed being dead would be a bad thing. After a couple more minutes of dreaming I realized: I was supposed to visit Ed with Joe next month. Now what? I should call Joe! I wonder if he found out, too. Maybe I would have to break the bad news to him. I don't know Joe's phone number well enough to dial him in my dreams, so in the last few minutes of sleep I was able to assess the situation. How did Ed die? I should have probably found out. Who could I ask? Probably the person that told me he died. Who was that? I don't remember. Why not? Did anyone actually tell me? Hmm, awful fuzzy. Is Ed really dead? If he's not, am I making all this up? Why would I make all this up? Am I dreaming? Did I get up this morning? No? Well there you go. And then I woke up.

So in conclusion, Ed just posted a letter about going to the Danko Jones show last night so I have conclusive proof that he's alive. Thank goodness!


"I might not be the flashiest dresser in the room/I might not know how to look a girl in the eye/I might not have the right pick-up lines/but I'll show you what I got/you see when I was growing up I got the inside scoop I used to watch all the fellows down the block/when they worked I watched and I learned the Lovercall."

CD: Beastie Boys, "Licensed To Ill"

I have an aversion to pork for disgestive reasons. It just doesn't dissipate correctly or something; if I were an expert in those kinds of matters I could explain in medical terms the more disgusting aspects of the situation while still sounding somewhat dignified. Nevertheless, I still find myself dealing with hot dogs on a regular basis. My intention is never to just "go get a hot dog" because I am always looking for better fare. There it sits in the fridge, however, taunting me. Say I am about to make some soup, or reheat a casserole. Hey, I can eat a hot dog while I wait? Then, somehow I must finished the package I opened. Nuts...by the end of the night I've had four or five of the things and my stomach is re-enacting that ship-on-stormy-seas scene from the Pepto-Bismol commercial. What are these things made of, anyway?

Studio mic: "C'mon, Dave, gimme a break."
David Lee Roth: "One break, comin' up!"

CD: Van Halen, "Diver Down"

Blank Tapes! Everyone must get they'selves some Blank Tapes. This week I had a great radio show, where each song was preceded by an audio clip from that great movie, "Shaft." It was so good it should have been recorded. And you know what? It WAS, thanks to Blank Tapes! Now I can relive all of the great moments I had, which in some cases will be the first time because I kept falling asleep! And last night, whilst watching reruns of Saturday Night Live on Comedy Central, they just happened to be playing the episode where the one and only Natalie Imbruglia sings! Thanks to Blank Tapes, I have this earth-shattering, breakthrough first American performance close at hand for all posterity! Thank you, Natalie, for an amazing live version of "Torn!" And thank YOU, Blank Tapes!

Shaft: "Why don't you stop playing with yourself, Willie?"

CD: The Police, "Ghost In The Machine"

Cops are really friendly, but the only time you see them are when you've done something wrong. The same goes with judges; sure, they're polite, but they're also just about to throw you in jail or sentence you to death or something like that so when they smile it can really be aggrivating. I haven't had that sort of problem yet, because my crimes are so petty they're laughable in their own right. Getting up in front of a judge, then, is almost fun in my case. Last night I paid (through the nose) for a speeding ticket, but the cops and the judge were just so NICE about the whole thing. I even found out that the judge was the guy that fixed up my brother's old car a few months ago, to donate it to the City Mission. Now that's a nice guy! I paid $125.

Judge: "So why were you going so fast?"
Woman: "I was late for a class..."
J: "Oh, what do you study?"
W: "Criminal Justice." [court breaks out in laughter]

CD: Beck, "Mellow Gold"

Some time ago I parked in a lot near my school, and a bum proceeded to ask me for money. I wasn't going to give him any, but I was late anyhow so I couldn't even pretend to listen to him for a minute...

Bum: "Excuse me sir, but I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time. My wife and I have fallen on hard..."

Me: "I'm late for class! I gotta go!"

Bum: "OH!!" You ALWAYS 'GOTTA GO!!'"

That memory is still burned into my mind. Last week, however, another bum "helped me park" in downtown Buffalo. I thought about karma, listened to his speech, got tired of it quickly, and just handed over two bucks. You can't get anything for a buck these days, so I gave him two. Well, you can get 20 minutes worth of calls anywhere in the U.S. for only 99 cents, but I assume he doesn't have a phone. So there, two dollars. Still not feeling very nice because I tried bribing a bum to get him to leave me alone, I put about a dollar's worth of change in the Salvation Army bucket at Wal-Mart the next day.

Karma is real! That very day I also returned the pop cans that were lying around my house, and the money it made me was equal to the amount I gave to the Army and the second panhandler. Just like in "Abbey Road"!


Jimmy: "Cheddar! Put down the gun! Where did you get that thing?!"

Cheddar: "It's my mom's!"

--"8 Mile"

CD: Spice Girls, "Spice"

Recently I bought some new clothes, which is pretty much a once-a-year event. It used to be because I didn't have the money to get new clothes. I have the money now, but I don't need to wear anything. Well, that's not entirely the case. But I have several sets of clothes:

1.) Formal wear. Never wear it, never wash it, never wear it out. I have the same dress shoes I had in eighth grade.

2.) Dress clothes. You know, decent pants and maybe a tie. I wear these about a third of the time, so you can probably throw two or three shirts in the hamper after the week, as well as three good pairs of socks. This is for actual work, and I have the five shirts I need to get me through a good month if I mix it up right.

3.) A crappy work uniform. Only on weekends, and then they're hidden from the other five days.

4.) Xenophobe wear. When I come home, I put these on. Usually, plaid pajama bottoms with an equally disgusting plait button shirt. I probably look like ICP on the PGA Tour but I'm not leaving the house, am I?

After that, what else do I need? I do the laundry once a week (maybe) and no one is the wiser. And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get out of my 3 and change into my 4; have a good night.


"SEARCHING FOR A THEORY OF
QUANTUM LOVE: Young physicist seeking a very "physical" relationship with someone who wants to pursue the "mysterious equations of love". Must be in same reference frame over 18."
--Jim Steinman

CD: Pearl Jam, "Riot Act"

I'm working my way down to one meal a day again, but sensible meals this time. I used to eat one meal a day, but that meal would be, say, one pound of spahgetti and a couple Fluffernutter sandwiches. Now it involves a decent sandwich (hopefully from Subway!) and a glass of Something. So far this has been working pretty well. Last night, however, I decided to splurge on a salad. Oh man, I can't believe I just typed that. Anyway, this happened to be a salad from a truck stop, meaning that I had to find the lettuce under a quilt of cheese. Good cheese, yes, but still. And the salad was accompanied by a mug (yep!) full of Ranch dressing. Do you ever wonder why truck drivers have guts bigger than some states' panhandles, even when they don't drink most of the time? It's because the healthiest food they eat has fat like Oprah has...well, fat.

"Eve was framed" --bumper sticker

CD: Stevie Wonder, "Innervisions"

Belatedly, I must give a shout out to the supposedly loosely-related Congressman Ed Schrock of Virginia on his recent election to a second term in the United States House of Representatives. Ed Schrock is a stauch supporter of Reagan-era economics and international policies and can't stand gays in the military, which he believes was a failed experiment by the the Clinton Administration that ruined troop morale (this was an integral part of his campaign). He also served two tours in Vietnam and looks kind of like my grandpa. With 84% of the vote, Schrock defeated his Green Party challenger by a more than 5-1 ratio. Congratulations, Ed. And, just wondering: did your family come from Lancaster County?

"You all up in my grill but you don't know what I'm cookin'!" --Clarence High School Student

CD: Erykah Badu, "Mama's Gun"

I spend longer amounts of time in my car now that my commutes between work, home, and school are more than twenty miles in any direction. It is not inordinate to find myself driving from 90 minutes to two hours a day. This means I listen to a lot of CDs, which I turn up until my ears hum and my mouth starts a feeble attempt at harmonizing with females and falsettos. But what to listen to when, say, your mother is in your car? Today I searched my CD collection in vain and settled on Green Day. I figured she couldn't take Beck or Radiohead ("Why do you have to listen to such depressing music?") and finally settled with Green Day. If you turn it way, way down, all you can hear is chord changes and no swearing. Past studies have shown that moms like Weezer but can't stand Nirvana. Jazz just makes the trip seem longer. Also, the Beatles are great but you have to let Mom do the choruses.

"I love how ESPN has NBA games on now. This is the change my life needed." --Jeff Gross

CD: Alan Parsons Project, "Master Hits"'

Awwwww...I got me a new winter jacket today. "Tis sweet. All soft on the inside and with big pockets on the outside, with a giant hood that makes me look like i'm in a Naughy By Nature video. It's also a large size, meaning that hood can make me look like a scared turtle if pulled over my head. I hope to use this jacket during my upcoming trip to Europe, where I will spend a number of overnights on a train. I envision sitting in my seat, mummified by my coat, oblivious to the continent speeding past me as I get some well-deserved sleep. Most people are not energized by coat purchases, but this is my first new one since 8th grade--yes, 8th grade!--and to have a coat without missing lining or buttons is like manna. Maybe tonight I will sleep on the floor, in my new jacket, like a seven-year-old girl to her new swimsuit.

"I don't know what you came to do...I came to get tha stank offa you..." --Cee-Lo Green

CD: Radiohead, "OK Computer"

Yesterday my manager came up to me, and in a very serious tone told me, "you have a call." I never get calls at work, and I wondered who it might be. The man on the other end identified himself as a Chief Operations Officer for the company:

Him: Is this Frederick Schrock?
Me: Yes...
H: How are you doing today?
M: Good, good...
H: We recently found out that you were traveling to Europe in the next few months, and we were wondering if you would be a Secret Shopper for us in some of our franchises there.
M: ...Um, sure...It depends on where they are, though.
H: Well, we have several locations in the area of Bielefield, Germany.
M: Really? I'll just happen to be staying there.
H: That's excellent!
...
By the way, Fred, it's Ed. How've you been?

Ed called from Germany. I haven't heard from him for three months, and got my work number from a friend in Nashville. He totally pranked me, dude, and he did it from 4000 miles away. Is that a world record?


"So a pirate walks into a bar. There's a steering wheel attached to his fly. The bartender goes, "Hey, what the steering wheel doing sticking out of your pants?" And the pirate goes, "Arrr! It's driving me nuts!"
--Tim Schrock, AKA DJ Middle Finger

11 11 02

CD: Portishead, "Portishead"

Tonight's topic is ice cream. When my family buys ice cream there is usually a big debate over what to get, and the ice cream is usually categorized into three main categories:

Vanilla. This means regular vanilla about 90% of the time, but may sometimes branch out to other bland flavors such as Maple Walnut. I do not hate these flavors but they don't make me very happy. These are the flavors the parents want to eat, without any reason other than brash conservativism. One may consider "Cookies & Cream" in this section, but it is rarely agreed chosen (too bad, too).

Fruit. This involves strawberries, usually. Or cherries. Or blueberries, or a whole mix of them in what is usually a vanilla-based flavor called "All American Moose" or something odd like that. Of course, you could always just buy vanilla and add fruit to it later, but then the ice cream just wouldn't look so neat coming out of the box. In my opinion, utterly useless.

Chocolate. In some form, chocolate must be present. ("Cookies & Cream" MAY count.) The best ones are the Death by Chocolates, the Fudge Brownies, the Mint Ting-A-Lings, the Cookie Doughs, the Peanut Butter Cups. I only approve of these kinds. Why? Because they have flavor, they taste like a real dessert (Strawberries!? Save them for brunch!) and thank goodness they have chocolate, the most important taste since Water. Why anything else?

I make it a point to be present during the Ice Cream Selection Process because I insist on having at least one chocolate ice cream chosen. In these later, more refined years, I almost refuse to eat any other kind. C'mon people...vanilla? If I put milk in the freezer long enough I can make something just like it. How about adding some magic cocoa beans, dude?! And chop up some candy bars in there so we can have two desserts at once! You gotta make sure it sits heavy in my stomach, because I'll be eating it for breakfast--the most important meal of the day!


"I am the king of Boggle, there is none higher; I get 11 points off the word "quagmire" --Beastie Boys

CD: Limp Bizkit, "3 Dollar Bill, Y'All"' (this one's really lousy)

I was just thinking about what I would do if I was Iraq. Not Saddam Hussein, but Iraq, because I'm not sure if I can sympathize with him. So say I'm Iraq. You've been bombing me just about every day for the past ten years, a little here and there. And now you want me to disarm, because now--suddenly--I'm a threat to you again. All these daily bombings were just a little recess horseplay, I guess. But anyway, unless I disarm and make myself completely vulnerable to attack, I'm going to be attacked and then disarmed. Either way, I'm going to get pantsed in the lunch line. So I can either eat my government-subsidized lunch without any pants on or drop the lunch and try beating up the guy that's been bullying me for ten years. Sure, I'm really hungry and could use the food. But isn't it still worth it? I just don't know...


Hannah: "Ed called you."
Fred: "When did he call?"
H: "Eight o'clock."
F: "But Hannah, it's 7:30..."

CD: various, "20 Years Of Dischord"

I just found a bunch of Random Quotes that Dave scribbled on our road map when we were traveling to Indiana last week:

"12:30 PM. Fred wearing aviator sunglasses. [complete with artist's rendering]"

"Fred cont'd wearing them. It was dark! (cloudy)"

"Mooreheadville, PA!"

"3:29 PM. Fred really has to pee. But, rest stop is CLOSED!"

"3:38. Fred's foot tapping to alleviate the pain of his bladder."

"3:41: Fred pulls over on expressway. Pees under bridge!"

"3:48. Fred finishes up."

CD: Foo Fighters, "One By One"

One thing I miss about college is the late classes. Sure, freshman year you are stuck with Intro To Useless Info at eight in the morning, but by the time you're a junior you're getting up at noon, and don't have classes on Friday. (At least, that was my situation. Bwah ha ha.) But in the "real" world, apparently this is not the case anymore. Waking up at 5:30, 5:39, 5:48, 5:57 and 6:06 is a big pain compared to Eventually Getting Out Of Bed around 11ish. This morning I was even later than normal because I had to wait my turn for use of the shower, something I haven't had to do since the Clinton Administration. Then there's "rush hour", probably the first time the movie's been better than the thing it was based on, and a modern-day oxymoron to boot. Dif'rent Strokes, I guess. Being cut off by a truck on the I-90 is my tuition now.

"The Mission of the West Seneca Central School District is to provide a diversified education program which will produce literate, caring, ethical, responsible, and productive citizens who are capable of adapting to change." --Bulletin Board

CD: Medeski Martin & Wood, "Uninvisible"

I was supposed to stop talking about Subway sandwiches but I just can't. This story, however, is the best of all. As previously seen on "Blog," a customer enjoys Subway sandwiches, goes temporarily insane, and decides he wants to write the company telling them how great they are. Yesterday, they wrote back. I got an official letter from the central office (On Subway letterhead! Yes!) thanking me for my interest in the Subway family and for my words of encouragement. THEN I look again into the envelope and whoopdie-doo, there are THREE two dollar coupons off the purchase of any Subway product! That's right, they gave me $6 just for writing an E-mail! So if you're hungry, poor, and have E-mail access (it's hard getting that Trifecta) log on to www.subway.com and claim your free food!


"George Washington was born February 22, 1732 in the state of Vagina"

-History Report by student from West Seneca

CD: The Busdrivers, promo EP

Unpacking from a trip is a real pain. I think it is especially tedious when the trip wasn't very long. There are clothes, of course. That's the most time consuming. I have yet to see someone who still had a neat suitcase when they came back home; usually there is a roughshod pile of debris crammed into one side of the case while the other side has some layers of clean clothes mixed in with random souveniers, as tectonic shifting has caused the folded shirts to mix with, say, the socks or a snowglobe. All clothes, whether worn or not, must be washed. Clean clothes may have been contaminated by close location to the "dirty clothes bag" and a lack of fresh airflow. Then comes the cleanup of miscellany: receipts, brochures you kept for no reason whatsoever, camera film rolls, that hotel card key you ended up not having to return to the front desk. Those don't have to be washed, but you have to find them first. During the trip you have excercised every one of the 13 pockets in your suitcase for the sake of convenience, and now you can't find a thing. Don't tell yourself these objects are useless, however, even though they are. If not cleared away, you'll be in Orlando finding cough drops you put in your bag in Washington three years before, look at it for a second, think "what the hey, why not," eat it and die of pneumonia a month later. It happened to President Harrison, you know.

Q: "Heigh ho for our Cape Cod,
Heigh ho Nantasket,
Do not let the Boston wags
Feel your oyster basket."
-Original verse to "Yankee Doodle"

CD: Cee-Lo, "Cee-Lo Green And His Perfect Imperfections"

While taking a driving break on a trip from Terre Haute, Indiana to Buffalo, New York, my buddy Dave and I stopped to eat at a Blimpie's Subs outside of Akron, Ohio. But this wasn't just a Blimpie's Subs, oh no. In the same room as the sub shop was a Nextel cellular phone dealership, bottled wines for sale, a candy shop, condoms (right next to the suckers on the shelves, and several giant windows where you could see the automatic car wash at work. Also, the room was half of a building where a full Dodge dealership was located. How does a room make any sense? So in conclusion, if I were to anthropologically study the people of Akron, Ohio based on this store I would see wine and clean cars, condoms and kids' candy, and cell phones and automobiles. And I would think to myself, "These people have no laws."

Today starts the daily Random Quote. At the end of each post I will quote something I read or heard that day that I think will stand alone as an interesting statement:

"Fred's always dickin' around with lunch meat."
Dave Hill

CD: Stevie Wonder, "Songs In The Key Of Life" [See 11/01]

So I'm going on a road trip, coming up last Friday. [See 11/01] And I driving my good buddy Dave for ten hours. Dave is one of many people who do not trust my directional skills, which is a shame; I unconsciously take scenic routes, probably led by a Higher Power for reasons mere mortals cannot explain, but all I hear from my passengers is: "We're not lost again, are we?" We always get there, and usually within a close approximation of being On Time. I don't see the problem. And I just know that the first turn I make, Dave will yell about something: about how I took it too fast; about how I was supposed to go left, not right; about how I almost hit that Kid On A Bike; how I am going to hit that car in front of me; and the ubiquitous "Who taught you to drive?" Silly crabs, trips are for Freds!

CD: Stevie Wonder, "Songs In The Key Of Life" [See 11/01]

Hi again. On Thursday I decided to break out the ol' pile of sweaters put away since last year. I did this because it's cold, of course. And with that sentence I have driven my post into a brick wall.

So anyway, I wanted to wear one of the sweaters that day. Since it was put away so long, however, there was a big crease from where it was folded. I was going to take a shower anyway, so I put it on a hangar in the bathroom. Water running, I tried to think of ways to bring more steam into the room. Hmm. Well, I could close the door. HAHAHAHA! Just kidding. But I did close the door of the Closet in the bathroom; that helped. What else would concentrate the steam towards the sweater? I ended up bring several larger items, such as my me-sized clothes hamper into the room, so as to take up more space, pushing the steam--hopefully--nearer the area of my sweater.

All of my extra planning took about 20 minutes, and by that time there was barely any hot water to take a shower with. So that was schwag. Also, the crease never came out. Schwag again. Finally, no one noticed the crease. Bonus. See, entropy means a happy ending!

CD: Stevie Wonder, "Songs In The Key Of Life"

Well I'm going on a little trip tomorrow and since I won't post any fantastic updates about my important life in the next few days, I figured I could just do it now. Also, I am here in the computer lab waiting for something to finish printing, so what else am I supposed to do? The printer here is one of those older ones that use the long, attached pieces of paper with the holes on both sides. Yeah, the cheap stuff. Teachers won't accept them so that's why I can print out half a ream for free. Looking at it now, however, I realize that I can barely read half of the font. You know how some people spell "encyclopedia" with that conjoined "AE" thing? All of the letters on the page look like that. And the numbers? Don't even ask. Like a just scanned some kindergardener's glitter art.

CD: Vines, "Get Free" promo

I did it! I wrote Subway an E-mail. Actually it was a Customer Service form I found on their website, but I still did it! I had to provide a whole bunch of information about where I lived, the address of the Subway I went to, blah blah blah, but I still did it! Woo! Here's my letter:


You guys are great! I would eat your subs three times a day if I could. Seriously! I had the Chicken Teriyaki today and the Italian B.M.T. the day before. They really hit the spot! I'm going to try some of the other sandwiches to see which one I like the best. The best thing about your subs is that they're big but they're fresh and light, so I can enjoy a foot-long but not feel too full afterwards. Friendly help, too! Keep up the good work!

P.S. The cookies are good, too!


I heart Subway!

CD: Radiohead, "Pinkpop 2001" live bootleg

I ate at Subway again, and I'm telling you guys that place is GREAT. Sure, I can't think of another topic to write about today, but seriously. Subway makes great sandwiches. I've found myself staring at the writing on their paper cups a lot; you know, the ones with the charts saying how much healthier Subway subs are to Big Macs and Whoppers. This is true. Don't forget, however, that their chart doesn't figure in cheese or mayonnaise, or any other special stuff. And I eat foot-longs, not the 6-inchers. So really it's twice the calories, but that's just a tangent. If you're ever hungry and you need something fast, go get a Subway sub. The lettuce is fresh, they'll make 'em any way you want 'em, there's a Subway on every other block, the prices are decent, the people are friendly, there usually aren't a lot of people there, it's open pretty late at night, and, oh, I don't know, they're just really really really really GOOD! I mean it you guys, eat there! You think I'm kidding around! I think tomorrow I'm going to write them a letter.

CD: Robert Bradley's Backwater Surprise, "Live"

Oh man oh man oh man, I went to Subway the other day and had yet another AWESOME Subway Sandwich. That place is so cool! How many times do you walk around thinking, "Man, I wish I was eating a sub right now"? Well, for me it's a lot! I parked my car, put a quarter in the meter, and six minutes later (I checked the meter when I came back) I had a 12-inch sub in my hands! Bonus! Only in America...'cuz in Canada they probably call them 30-centimeter subs or something. ANYWAY, from now on I will use my time at Subway to experiment and find the best fixin's for My Perfect Subway Sub. Today: the Italian sub with honey mustard sauce and cheese, on parmesean bread. (Did I spell "parmesean" right? I don't think I did.) Next time I'll try it without the pickles. Rock over London, rock on Chicago...Subway: Eat Fresh!

CD: Supergrass, "Supergrass"

Umm...my day in a nutshell.

1:30 AM: Wake up from my three hours of sleep. Quick, take a shower, get a bunch of records, and drive 45 minutes to Buffalo State.

3:00 AM: Radio show. It went pretty well this time, though I had to get let in the building by a police officer this time because everyone else had gone home. To do what?

6:00 AM: End radio show. Found a couple of CDs lying on the floor that I figured I'd keep for my lonesome. The Vines promo, for one. Sweet. Also played a Wesley Willis station ID that he recorded when he was staying in the residence halls for a week or so last year. That guy can really rock and roll. Now it's time for work!

6:45 AM: Finish driving from Buffalo to Elma, New York to the school there. Change my shirt in the empty parking lot. I arrive early enough that I can set up things and still have time to start a paper I have due next week Wednesday.

7:30 AM: Start work. Easy day today, just playing the same movie for a bunch of classes. You can start to predict what the students' reactions will be to certain parts: when they will laugh, when they will all say "Ew!" at the sight of blood, and even when they will start and stop paying attention. Interesting.

2:30 PM: Finish work, kind of. During my free periods I finish that homework paper, which is probably the earliest I've ever done anything for a class. I'm almost an example to my students or something. Now it's time for Bus Duty, meaning I stand around in the cold making sure no one gets run over in the parking lot.

3:00 PM: Drive back to Buffalo.

3:30 PM: Lunch in Buffalo, at Subway! Subway rocks! I even had a discount card that gave me a free sub! Yeah!

4:00 PM: I have two hours until my next class. I go to the library and find out I owe $10 in late fines (@*$#*&^$!!) and read three newspapers. I'm hukd on fonix.

6:00 PM: Presentations in class. It's a good class, especially since I'm not presenting today. I make some comment about an episode of Antiques Road Show that actually isn't too embarrassing. Maybe I should participate more.

8:00 PM: Back to the library. Talking to you.

10:30 PM: Back home? Should probably eat something. Maybe call Dave. Dave doesn't read this weblog, so I can call him a monkey boy without him knowing.

12:00 AM: Zzz? Probably not...

CD: Queens Of The Stone Age, "Songs For The Deaf" [It's good!]

Since first grade I have dreaded Fruit Cups. My secondary complaint is that the assorted fruit ones have way too much pineapple, and I can't stand pineapple. Why do they put it on hams? My primary complaint, however, has to do with the packaging; those little lift-up metal things on the top of the cans. I used to think that either I was Superman or the lid and the can were fused together or the opener part was just the weakest thing known to man. Four times out of ten I would rip that little lift-up little thing right off the top. Then I would be stuck with a completely unopened can, or one only opened part-way with just a tiny bit of assorted fruit juice coming out of the side. Mastery of fork maneuvering would be paramount in these occations.

Today at work, a similar situation brought my mind back to those days. I was trying to open a can of kidney beans with the same type of lid as the fruit cups. Maybe I have grown stronger since first grade. Maybe the lift-up things have become weaker. I ruined three consecutive cans without popping them open. In frustration, I thought "ah forget it," and so I took a pair of scissors (because we didn't have a can opener; what the heck?) and just stabbed the thing. Woosh. Kidney juice everywhere. Dripping from the wall, from the ceiling, from my hat, from the other wall. No fingerpaints for me that day.

CD: Weezer, "Weezer" [Green Album]

My new favorite television channel must be NewsWorld International. Since it's not American, I get to hear about things that don't involve the words "sniper," "Osama," or "Tom Daschle". Also, the station is run by the CBC, meaning they interview people one at a time, instead of having them shout at each other via live satellite feed. But the best part? They also play news from Mexico, Japan, China, Russia, and Germany. My favorite one is Germany. Not only do they speak perfect English on the German show (even better than the danged English) they also report on the French. They're nice to the French, but why do the bread eaters always make themselves look bad? It seems the French are either on strike, hogging farm subsidies, pretending to be a superpower, talking like they're drunk, or making little to no contribution to the cultural capital of the industrialized world. Actually I'm kidding. But that last one there? I just read it in my history textbook. Yes; for Grad School. Zut alors!

CD: Queens Of The Stone Age, "Songs For The Deaf"

Didn't do a bloody thing today besides sleep in, read, fumble wih my horrible internet connection, take a shower, eat leftovers, play Super Mario Sunshine, take a nap, and listen to the Queens Of The Stone Age album like three times. It almost sounds like a full day when you type it out. I've also spent an inordinate amount of time trying to pry a piece of beef out from between my teeth with my tongue. Using suction hasn't worked, either, so I may just have to go in with the brush. Sometimes I wonder whether I should just ban certain foods from my diet because they always get stuck in my teeth. Apples, for example. Also some chicken, but not all. And corn; I forgot to mention corn on the cob. Nasty on the chompers.

CD: Rufus Wainwright, "Rufus Wainwright"

Aw, Jiminy. My social life has just decreased tenfold. Here at the college library computer lab we used to be able to download Instant Messenger every time we used it. It was annoying, but hey, it's still better than dial-up. So I would talk to people here at will because I PAID FOR THIS CONNECTION GOSH DARN IT. Somehow, the lovely and talented people at the BS ITS have learned how to block the little button on the AOL.com page that would download the IM program, make me happy, and give me a reason (one out of, oh, three) to stay on campus after class. (The other two reasons, by the way, are Drinking and Petty Theft). So screw you guys, I'm a going home.

CD: Natalie Imbruglia, "White Lilies Island" [Yeah!]

The city of Buffalo actually decided to have autumn this year, meaning no snow but cold weather. Last year we had summer until Christmas, then got eight feet of snow in two days, then had spring, which was really just the five months it took to melt the eight feet of snow. But either way it's time to put the fans away and turn on the heater. (Assuming you have a heater; it seems a large number of people in Buffalo do not.) Our heater prevents me from getting a cold by taking all the of the dust it's collected over the spring and summer and, using the a new technology called fire, makes the dust hot and circulates it throughout the building and into my nose. Therefore I have cold symptoms, not because I am sick, but because the heater is making me sneeze. Does that make sense? Basically, I have invented a cold vaccine.

CD: Beck, "Mixed Bizness" single

Now that I'm a commuter, there are things about college that I appreciate more than I used to. One is ample eating establishments. I am overjoyed that I am a stone's throw away from a Subway franchise, and that there's a Mighty Taco right across the street. Another is long, once-a-week night classes. You actually have time to go to them, and you only have to make the drive once. Which brings me to the things I don't appreciate. Like, when you drive 45 minutes to a class that ends up showing a video. Or when you go just to take a 20 minute, multiple-choice test. Or when you want to use a computer in the library lab but there isn't one available. For three hours. Did I mention there's a Subway? Subway sandwiches are the bomb.

What was I talking about again?

CD: Liz Phair, "Whitechocolatespaceegg"

News just can't get any funnier. Did you hear this one? Saddam Hussein holds an election, where he runs unopposed. No, that's not the punchline. THEN, he wins! That's not the punchline, either! Okay, THEN, because he is apparently so thankful to the citizens of Iraq for loving him SO MUCH that they give him 100% of the vote, he decides to free almost every prisoner in the country. That's right, he empties all of the jails. So I got to thinking, what do prisoners--mostly young males with a penchant for violence--do once they get out of prison? Well, maybe they can do something for Saddam Hussein, you know, as kind of a "thank you" for letting them out early. But what would Saddam need with violent, fanatically supportive males aged 18-35? Especially with this upcoming war with the United States...where will he find the time to figure this out?

10 20 98

CD: Sleater-Kinney, "One Beat"

Yesterday I worked a twelve-hour shift. I did it because they asked me to. I could have declined, and in a lot of ways I wanted to, but for whatever reason I always take on more work than I originally intend on. And then I end up doing even more than that. And I guess I end up enjoying it. I think I worked about 45 hours at three jobs this week, not including two days of classes and their homework, and not considering the 45 minutes of drive time between all of those places. Why do I like it? I get to listen to my car stereo, I meet new people, I get out of the house...all of those dumb excuses and more. Oh, and someday next week I'll get three paychecks in the mail. That makes me forget just how tired I am.

g1410/20

CD: various, "Hype!" soundtrack

Awwww! It was so cute! I basically had nothing to do yesterday, so somehow I ended up at a CD store. That really has nothing to do with this story. But as I was driving back from the CD store, I took a few back roads because on the way to the CD store there was a lot of construction, you know, one-lane with a guy waving people through kind of stuff, and it was rush hour so I wasn't even going to try it. That has nothing to do with the story either. So as I was driving back, I saw these three little lumps walking around on the road. As most animals do, they are supposed to run across the street or out of the way, or at least pause, stare at you for a second, and then freak out. But these little lumps just sat down. They were to small to figure out what they were before I got to them--I thought they might have been retarded squirrels--but when I came to a complete stop from 62 miles per hour I realized they were two-week-old kittens trying to get warm on the pavement. Aww. Awwwwwww! So I watched as they looked around for a while and then figured out that they should get out of the way. I think the grey one was even asleep! Awwwww!

CD: Ani DiFranco, "Swing Set EP"

I started playing Nintendo again, so any free time I thought I had two days ago has suddenly disappeared, as well as that tiny modicum of desire I possessed that told me tonight I would get that History paper done for Monday. Well, well, well. Whose fault is this? Not mine, of course. Mario has a new game out. The last time a new Mario game came out that I could play was Mario 64, which was totally sweet, and though I hadn't touched video games for about two years before that I lost my Thanksgiving vacation getting all 120 stars in that game. And here we go again. When I downloaded an NES emulator this summer I went into hiding for about a week while I tried to relearn Ninja Gaiden, so who knows how long this will last. By the way, if you look at the cover of Ninja Gaiden, doesn't it look like the Japanese symbols say "The"? I was at a store (Brand Names) buying a video game when I was 12 (Adventures of Lolo) and the guy kept telling the clerk he wanted "Ninja The Gaiden" and she couldn't find it on the shelf for the life of her. Adventures of Lolo was $19.99 and the only game we could afford without waiting another week to get a better one. One more addiction...

CD: Radiohead, "Amnesiac"

I have spent the last twenty-four hours typing. Papers, E-mails, IM conversations, message board posts. I when I wasn't typing I was writing what I would type the next time I got to a computer. Somehow, between (a little) sleep, work, school, and about an hour and a half of driving time, I have typewritten about thirty-five pages of text. That's an estimate, really. Some were double-spaced, single-spaced...a lot was erased and rewritten. I must have used...six computers today? It sounds about right. Last year I found I have become dependent on a computer; this year I discovered that it must be strapped to my body in order to survive. I'm looking into laptops, but I'll probably chicken out because of the money. Even though I've oogled the specs online for several wasted hours in the past few weeks. Heck, today I spent so much time on computers that I actually crashed a Mac. A Mac! I thought that was impossible. Except for that one time when I was twelve and exploring a computer the first time. I don't know how I did it, but I started rewriting the boot data. Luckily we were both saved by a conscientious technology teacher. But that's a different story. I have to go now, as the amount of time I spend on a computer in one day is the direct adverse of the amount of food I eat. In other words, the last time was yesterday afternoon.

CD: Radiohead, "Kid A"

Here's my day in a nutshell. This was posted at another topic out of necessity, but since I wrote it twice, I should post it twice...



Frederick Schrock
16 October 2002
SSE 540
Journal Article
Dr. Fusco

Education, Summer 2002 v122 i4 p674(6)

The Technology Hub: a cost effective and educationally sound
method for the integration of technology into schools. Joseph
S.C. Simplicio.

This article introduces an idea which should be more of a reality
in grade schools: the technology "hub", a center at the school
where information can be accessed and transferred by anyone
involved with the school, whether inside of it or out. Many schools
already have some form of a hub installed or planned; numerous
schools have practically replaced their libraries with "media
centers" where computers take the place that rows of books once
held.

There are many benefits to the technology hub. The author
mentions that teachers can write tests onlin for students to access
later, possibly in a resource room setting. Parents can go online
and see what assignments their children have to finish for the
week. Students, teachers, and parents can utilize a school's
website for district news, library resources, or to communicate by
E-mail if there are any problems.

What the article emphasizes is the use of Internet media as a
medium for this exchange of ideas. This has not come to fruition
yet in public schools. Library media centers use poor filtering
systems that block out pornography (sometimes) but also
research articles on Margaret Sanger or Adolf Hitler. In turn,
E-mail is also banned. Websites of schools often go a semester
or more without being updated.

The most frustrating thing about the current situation is that the
technology that is used is often not compatible with what the
students use at home. I am writing this paper right now in a West
Seneca district school that lacks a PC. A copy of the Simplicio
article remains in a floppy disk in my jacket, as the Macintosh
cannot read the .pdf file it is stored on. I would E-mail the article to
myself, but the filter would not allow it. Uploading this paper to an
Internet site that I could access later resulted in one of many
messages warning me that anything I click on could be viewed by
a third party, which somehow erased the completed first version
of this essay. It will not be until schools accept online
communication for what it is meant to be, and not treat it like a
closed-circuit television channel, that the rewards of having a
computer in every classroom will be realized.

CD: Erykah Badu, "Baduism"

Had a dang rockin' time on my radio show this morning. It's an odd situation that I play music at 3 AM on a Monday, because in one way I don't want anyone to listen so I can play whatever I want, and in another way I want people to listen to the strangeness I put on. And nobody is in the radio station that early in the morning, let alone awake on the campus, so I pretty much own the school for three hours. Today I played some of my favorite female rock acts--Bikini Kill, L7, Sleater-Kinney, and even Erykah Badu--and went on a small rant over how the station will put an overproduced group like Puffy AmiYumi on rotation (giant sellers in Southeast Asia, and even have their own dolls) but not the fanastically overproduced pop of Natalie Imbruglia. That discussion is one I'm sure I could only have with myself, and at 4:30 in the morning to boot.

Cassette (yes, I have cassettes!): Cowboy Mouth, "Word Of Mouth"

An hour ago I got an E-mail from AmericanSingles.com. I vaguely remember signing up for an online dating service about two years ago, when I was trying to earn points for one of those goofy Read E-mail For Money schemes. Anyway, I found that in my small hick town of 3000 people there are about five women my age who have ALSO signed up at AmericanSingles.com, and have done so for reasons such as "looking for a date, nothing serious right now" or "a real man who knows how to treat a lady." Well, I'm not very serious.... Some of these people actually seem interesting, maybe even attractive. Nevertheless, I refuse to lower my nonexistent standards to contact one of these people based on the prejudiced assumption that doing so would bruise the social reputation I don't have. So there. And Hunnybunz82, I think I live down the street from you; tell your dog to shut up!

CD: Frogs, "Starjob" promo

This is the 100th blog post. I started this blog in the summer hoping that it would help me learn to write about myself so I could better write up job applications, keep my essay writing skills up to snuff before graduate school started, to finally force myself to write a diary, and communicate with some of the friends I don't see anymore. None of these plans really succeeded, but here we are four months later. The posts have not changed much; sometimes I write them a day or two ahead of time now, and the tone somehow changed when people started saying they read the blogs on a regular basis (the one thing I regret is that fame has affected my art, though I am neither famous nor artistic). There are a lot of times when I am not listening to the CD I have written at the top of the post, but I have listened to it in the past 24 hours. (Right now I am listening to The Melvin's "The Bit" promo EP if you care.)

One really important rule that I set early on is that I must never write about anything important. Usually what I type is the farthest thing from my mind at the particular time, or only a small part of what's on it. I will never devote webblogs to my woman troubles, family problems, serious personal vices or anything of that nature. That way I can write something, forget about it, and the words will probably not be used against me later (part of the reason I record my E-mails and IMs as well).

But man, I hate these pop-ups, don't you? I can't stand these stupid things.

Well, my CD is done; I'm going to bed. Joe, you should really write on your blog. Ed, keep it up. Dave, you were an inspiration; too bad you're not still doing one. Anyone else who wants one can write to me.

CD: Beastie Boys, "Root Down EP"

Some days I get to go in for work and there is nothing to do. When teachers are absent, they oftentimes just have their substitutes watch over study halls, or watch videos with their class. Not a bad job, really. Today was one of those days. All of my classes were canceled for something called "Orienteering," which involves teams of kids walking around the athletic fields, finding different stations and doing tasks to complete a checklist of Fun Activities. My station was called "Grab Bag," where students get a random free prize. That's it. I'm not going to sit out in a wet field in my good shoes for two hours playing trick-or-treat. What does that teach you, huh? So with permission of a number of parent volunteers (they thought I was one of them) I came up with a task:

"Okay, this is called Grab Bag, where you basically get a free prize for doing nothing. But that's no fun, so here's what you have to do. [pointing] I want you to run around those bleachers over there three times. This is the catch: do you know the song for Meow Mix cat food?"

Group of five [puzzled]: "Yeah...."

"You have to sing it while you run, as loud as you can. Got it?"

G5: "Uh...oh...kay..." [ten seconds later] "MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW! MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW...!"

"I said LOUD!"

Subbing rocks.

CD: Beck, "Sea Change"

Today I visited the University of Buffalo Campus, got lost, and ended up in Lockport. I don't know. Actually I drove around Lockport, meaning I pretty much ended up a little south of Niagara Falls. I usually know the names of the little villages around the area, so when I drove past one of those "Welcome to" signs and found myself reading it twice to get the pronounciation right, I knew I had really screwed up my trip. At least I found those pillars near that lake. You know, that thing? With the thing? The greatest thing I got from the trip was realizing that when people talk about the University of Rochester they say "U of R" but when they talk about the University of Buffalo they say "UB." There is no "U of B." What a mindfudge. Then again, so is figuring out how I made it to Lockport...

CD: various, "Surge Studio"

If I remember correctly, a couple of months ago I wrote an insightful little piece about a pair of pants whose zipper would not stay all the way up. Whether a defect in the manufacturing of the pants or intense gravitational pull on the zipper (insert joke here) does not matter; the point is the zipper only tended to stay up half way. When I told this to several people--ever have those lulls in the conversation where you don't know what to say next?--their reply was always, unequivocably: "Why don't you just get a safety pin?" Ew gross no! I am not eight, and I am not putting pins at precarious places in my pants.

Anyway, the update. I came into one of my graduate classes, and waited for the professor to arrive. When he did, I noticed that a number of specific appearance traits such as his bushy, landscaped eyebrows, his loud yet often see-through dress shirts, and a haircut that might be prosthetic, there was also a very nice pair of pants--with a safety pin hanging off the zipper. See, THAT's why I wouldn't do it!