Virgina Tech Massacre/ Undercover medical ads

I’m back, for now, and I only have a few things to say about the Virginia Tech tragedy: “it’s contradictory that the same people against gun control are pro-life. Everything else has already been said and since Anna Niccole is no longer soaking up our short attentions the hours of VA Tech massacre coverage will be tattooed to our minds. No need to mention that yes, I did write a blog about the Anna Niccole Smith shebang, it was tongue in cheek, I suppose now my foot’s in my mouth. But what if we lived in a country where the VA Tech massacre was a daily occurence? Such places exist.

Here’s a disturbing blogservation: your sitting in the cherished waiting room of your favorite (or least favorite) Doc’s office when you notice an advertisement. The kicker is it seemingly has nothing to do with the services provided here, or so you think. In my case I was reading, minding my business waiting for my sister to emerge from the orthodontist’s torture chamber when a voice from above sings the praises of microdermabrasion procedures (repairing skin). Intermittently for the next two hours the droning continued. I blocked it out, but wasn’t able to block the question “what does this have to do with oral surgery?” from my mind. Apparently parents can enjoy the attached and affiliated spa while their little monsters get their braces installed, tightened and/or removed. Is it any wonder appointments last so long? Just put signs up pointing the direction to the spa and leave us alone. Between the ad loop and the yapping cell phone head next to me, I’ll spend the next visit in the car or on the benches outside.

New 'Toons

What I did instead of blogging —doodling— equally unproductive. I hope these scanned legibly. Oh yeah, and copyright 2007. Steal my art and I will make you draw for me.

Less physical than pinball: Phone tag, a sport for the lazy

Phone tag. We're all participants, but are you good or a goof?

We’ve all played it, but what are the rules?

When calls go straight to voicemail, they don’t count, as long as you don’t leave a message you can call again guilt free

However:
If you’ve called and left a message once, NEVER call again before the other player attempts, otherwise you reek of desperation

If you initiated the call:

And get an immediate call back (within 24 hours) it’s a draw

Are just calling to leave a voicemail, but the person picks up in any stage of the game, you lose

Are just calling to leave a voicemail and the other party calls back, leaves a message and you call back again and leave a message and they return the second call, you win

Design your call as a game and consistently ping pong at least 3 times without actual contact, you win

If you phantom call to make someone curious as to why you’re ringing and they call back within 30 minutes, you win, way to go

If you leave a message that’s not urgent, something along the lines of “call me back when you’re getting your chai tea” and the recipient calls back in an hour, you win

If you “received” the call:

And you get them to call twice before you contact them, you win

Call back because you have big news too, you both win

If you still have an old fashioned land line answering machine and pick the call up in mid-message, catching your “only called to leave a message” opponent off guard, you win

Call a “only called to leave a message” friend during their message, they have to call back or make a good excuse, so you win

If you can somehow rig your phone to interrupt “only called to leave a message” guy as a landline answering machine does, you are a champion of phone tag

If you call someone on their deceptive “only called to leave a message” bluff, you win

If you call back within an hour, regardless of non-emergency circumstances, sorry, but you lose

If you call a phantom back and leave a message, you lose

If you call a phantom back, message or no, more than once, you fail, they were testing you

Job (Un)Fairs

If anyone knows of a good job fair, clue me in. They’re like window shopping at a science fair. You want to take a gander in case it’s worthwhile, but you don’t want to get to close, sucked into a prepared presentation. If you can find a map, by all means plan your attack. Instead of a joyous carnival, all I ever get at these confusing events is a bunch of literature from companies I’ll never work for just because I felt bad as they thrust the leaflets desperately at me. It’s like that guy with the religious pamphlets: what would Jesus do? Not waste so much goddamn paper! Now when I’m bombarded by mission statements, crappy pens and stress balls I fire my own useless duds. Here, business suit woman with short hair, have my generic resume printed on paper so thin it doubles as tracing paper. Enjoy it. Use your imagination.

So I walk around like a dope asking if my services are needed. Nope. When you say write or writer employers assume you mean novelist. If I were a novelist, I wouldn’t be wasting my time at a career fair would I? I’d be writing my masterpiece!

Face it: the best part of these excuses for executives to escape the office is candy. Everybody like candy. It’s too bad they don’t put a symbol on the map. No, I’m not interested in a job with Boeing, but yes, I’ll listen to your spiel for a Snickers. You can keep the fanny pack, thanks. If I were an employer I’d advertise “CANDY! Apply with Allstate."

By the time I’m loosening my tie, nipping from my flask and flying paper airplane resumes to every table in range (how appropriate for Boeing) I realize I’d better get out of here before the traffic gets bad and have a good excuse not to fill out the exit survey. “I’m late for my dog’s enema”, usually shuts ‘em up.

Can a Cartoonist be a hero?/ Dry Humor

Yes. http://www.statesman.com/news/content/news/stories/local/04/06/6coldcase.html

Whoops

Missed posting yesterday. I was organizing documents; so sue me.

Extra! Extra! Can I bargain for extra?

I was a hit; I was a hoot. The publisher liked me. Otherwise he’d never have had the managing editor contact me to set up a follow-up interview the same day.

The job is familiar, I feel I’ve done this before; even the interview coincides with the one I had this time last year when it was either editor or cook in Alaska. The pay’s the same. I made more in four months working a sauté pan in Alaska than I would in a year as a newsman. Yet, there’s something appealing in finding something no one else knows about and transforming it into something everyone in town’s buzzing about, the same way on that island last summer I could always find a spot to be alone.

There’s a privacy about writing news. You’re an unobserved observer, a painter who seldom signs his work. It’s a quiet living, social and political storms swell and subside; it’s impossible to please everyone, but the stories are always positive. In local news your beat becomes a foster home, the pleasant people are a foster family and while you can’t call it fame, the subtle recognition is nice.

But since I have experience shouldn’t I hold out for better pay? Should I say I need more time to decide? I always jump at the first offer, even if it’s a consolation prize. I’m never the guy with three offers on the table, tasting them to see which is the sweetest. But maybe I can string the paper along just long enough to gain some leverage. I was offered an almost identical job last year; it’s time to see what I’ve learned.

Big day tomorrow

I got an interview bright and early tomorrow, so I gotta prep, and by prep I mean watch TV and go to bed. I don't brush up before interviews and I've never been interviewed and not offered the job. Sound overconfident? Maybe you're underconfident.

Don't leave your kitchen/restaurant supply store without it

Vital utensils

From the obvious to those “dang, I really wish I had a _______ right about now," here’s my must have bare minimum kitchen tool set. None of these are appliances or specialty items; I’ll get to those in another post.

1-4 silicone spatulas grandma didn’t use ‘em because they weren’t yet invented,
but if they were, she would’ve; granny might’ve gotten herself
a nice fake pair of—well, maybe not

1-4 wooden spoons some applications just call for these good ol’ fashioned
mainstays; mama used to whip us with these things, but I still
like ‘em

2 traditional flat spatulas one sturdy steel for scraping debris off steel and cast iron pans and
one sturdy plastic for your nonstick surfaces; also good for flipping

2 wire whisks one medium and one large, make sure the wires are nice and
tight; they can be used for everything from custards to sifting;
don’t bother with plastic whisks

2-4 pair tongs at least one stainless steel, 2 if you like one long reach and one
short grabber, they last forever; a nonstick if you do a lot of
nonstick cooking, that should do it, 4 pair are for folks who
really like tongs

1 large ladle some soups you really can’t just pour out of the pot

1 slotted spoon for food fishin’

1 potato masher you like mashed potatoes right? homemade applesauce? Then
you’ll want one of these.

1 box grater shredded cheese, thin cheese slices straight from the block,
grated carrots and grated ginger are impossible without this;
do get a solid grater, with a curved face if you can find it,
don’t bother with graters featuring a cheese catcher; just put
parchment or plastic wrap under the grater and go to town!

1-2 peelers I like those Kohn Swiss made wishbone shaped peelers that
rust in a week (just rinse and hang dry), but any $3-4 potato
skinner gets the job done

1-2 paring knives one big one small; if I had to choose I’d pick the small

1 chef’s knife one should do it; I like the ten inch model; paired with your
paring knife you’re ready to slash up just about anything

1 bread knife not absolutely necessary, but unless you get all your bread
sliced at the store or would never dream of baking your own
bread, you want one of these; go for one with an offset handle,
they’re comfortable and give you leverage.

1 liquid measuring cup not necessarily a utensil, but it's not gadget either, so it's worth
mentioning; a four cup or quart capacity should do the trick

measuring spoons 1 Tablespoon and 1 teaspoon are not the same; until you’re
good at gauging seasoning amounts, you’ll need these, a must
for bakers

dry measuring cups that mac and cheese recipe calls for ½ cup flour, or about a
handful, but whose hand do they mean?

That’s my list, anything else as far as I’m concerned is a luxury item, I know because I hat to stock a kitchen recently and I purchased the above utensils. If there’s anything missing from my list, let me know.

If a fence falls in the backyard, can you fix it?

Robert Frost’s cold companion was right: good fences do make good neighbors. On the other hand, 50-mile an hour winds and fences are mortal enemies.

On St. Patrick’s day, an ailing fence in my backyard finally fell, exposing the backside of my house to my accommodating neighbors. These gracious folks permitted me to work on their side of the fence, to fix up the rickety old planks. They even let their friendly dog out to help. Accepting that bungee cords and old reliable duct tape wouldn’t quite do the trick; I called up great uncle Frank Reith.

Syracuse Wire and Fence Company; founded by John Frank Reith, and carried on by his sons— brothers Frank, Henry and my grandfather, Chuck; flourished in Syracuse for 65 years. Throughout their years manufacturing and servicing chain link fences, the Reiths always worked without pay for any religious establishment, be it Synagogue, Church or Temple. They provided pro bono labor to their extended family, including my grandpa Russell Morton, who offered money every time, which Frank and grandpa Chuck Reith refused every time.

In Frank’s dictionary there’s a void between ‘retinue’ and ‘retook’ where the word ‘retire’ should be; at 80 he’s still hard at work. Decades of laboring from daybreak to sundown have taken their toll on Frank’s back, so I had to swing the sledge[hammer]. At first I was awfully shy with the sledge; if fencing is in my blood, I think it skipped a generation. But with the fence’s salvation on the line, soon I was hitting the fence posts good and square, living up to my name. So, anyone need a fence fixed? That is, after the soreness subsides.

Thanks to video games, the Internet and other diversions that coop us up in the great indoors, handy work is mostly lost on my generation. Sure, we mow the occasional lawn, but desperation sets in when we see woodwork in disrepair. For example: I did call my 80 year-old great uncle.

I learned more than how to mend a fence; I witnessed a chapter of my heritage first hand. Without great grandfather John forging Syracuse Wire and Fence, my family wouldn’t be where we are today.

At sunset, the fence was stable again, so we called it a day and warmed up with the help of my
four-cup Krups. America’s blue collar has frayed. The factories and mills of Syracuse’s salad days have wilted, the city’s small businesses are suffering and a new era is reported perpetually on the horizon. In just a score shy of a century, Frank has seen his fair share of changes, but my great uncle still takes his coffee black and still tells it straight. Exported labor makes it hard to make an old fashioned living. And homemade dollar disasters, such as Destiny, USA, worry Uncle Frank. Nevertheless, his example proves economic shifts are no match for an honest day’s work.

Bad Poetry: Spare yourself, don't read this

Ehhh... I had to write something; this is something.

In moon boots and in cahoots
Sharing secrets with the moon,
it’s full and there are no clouds; the moon can’t turn its back on me.
The moon has more mysteries than the sun and more admirers,
nocturnal animals conspire to the moon; it lights their sinister deeds.
See it in the day indeed, shepherding the tides,
she cries “oh my!”
caught in the moonlight, in disguise, by surprise,
the moon, the witness that never tells.
The moon, recipient of howling astronauts who metamorphose into monsters
The moon, filled with strange creatures that harbor stranger secrets.
Shed some light, on the night,
shed some light, on the night,
shed some light, on the night,
in the morning it’ll be all right.
But for now we’ll
share our secrets
and
spill our guts
to the moon.

Blogservations v2.1

Yes, it's Sunday, and you know what that means. Here’s some blogservations, questions and predictions I pondered this week. Most are still a mystery to me.

Blogservations

It’s your fault you’re late. Deal with it.

Turn signals seem to mystify most drivers, so I’ll clear it up: flip the switch up for right and down for left. Do this every time you’re about to change direction, preferably before mid-maneuver.

There are too many “greeting cards.” I got a greeting for you, “Hello, jerks, where the HELL are the birthday cards?” Although my cousin’s cousin’s vocational school graduation is important, I just want to send a birthday card. It’s already late; can’t this be a little easier?

Boring commercials (usually car related) are ruining television. Let’s march on Washington demanding they stop; I’ll lead.

I believe in mind reading, and— —yep, so do you.

Pet owners are cooking three course meals for fido, but pumping their brats full of Hot Pockets and Pop Tarts. Oh wait; the dog might actually contribute something to society one day.

Questions

Will I ever get a job I enjoy? Because, if I don’t land one soon I’m just going to find some cubicle somewhere and do whatever the hell I want. It’s a free country.

Does anyone read this nonsense?

What’s the latest whiteout innovation? Where can I get a hold of that?

What are TV and other appliance repairmen doing now people just buy new instead of getting electronics fixed?


Predictions

2-D animation will make a comeback.

Entire cities will be recalled as defective, starting with Salt Lake City, Utah.

Technology and humans will integrate. See: “Robocop” or “Terminator.” Or, actually, just take my word for it.

Stranger things will happen.