Beverages and other items

Good morning, and welcome again to what's sure to be a disjointed and ramble-filled post here at UOPTA. Normally I have a sense of what a post will be about a little before the whole introductory paragraph thing, but not this time. Instead, I'm going to troll through my random messages to myself about things I've either liked, disliked, or just plain noticed. Sound like fun? Let's jump right in then and see what happens.

Ah yes, found one. Shockingly, I pay careful attention to words and think about them quite often. Because of this hobby, I've come up with things that I think would be good product names. Here's the problem: I'm pretty sure that a very low number of successful products were created by name first. That is, if it's an invention, one should probably find some current problem or annoyance, address it with a new product, and then find a name for it later. Otherwise, it seems pretty backwards. That's how I roll. Here's another problem: none of these are actually good ideas. You'll see what I mean.

I was eating something, and I thought to myself, "This is good. It's even 'oh so good.' Hey, that sounds like 'oso good' ('oso' being 'bear' in Spanish). If I switched which word was in English and which was in Spanish, it would be 'bear bueno.' That's catchy. What could that work for? If I had a line of snack food, I could call it Bear Bueno. I guess I'd have to really target the Spanglish population if I wanted people to get my pun though." That's what I'm talking about.

Two others came up years ago, and through my backwards planning, they could actually work together under my same nonexistent company. First off, we have a beautiful bottle of Mockingbird brand tequila. Why? Because "Tequila Mockingbird" once popped in my head as an interesting turn of phrase. My liquor distilling plant doesn't just make Mockingbird Tequila though; we also offer Sat Down B Cider. That one's admittedly not nearly as catchy, but I can hear someone ordering "a Sat Down B and a shot of Mockingbird," and it's music to my ears.

Since I have two items for my alcohol-making company, I'm now invested in finding more. Soon, with any luck, I'll have a whole line of Play-on-Words Potables. I could have "ImaGINe" for Beatles fans (or "Sun And" gin for the Lost fans), "Whiskey Business" for prostitutes and/or Scientologists, "When In Rum," and maybe even "Scotch Ya Red-Handed." No, that's actually not where I wanted to go. Damn. You see, if ten average people saw Mockingbird Tequila on the shelf, how many would know what I was doing with that right off the bat? Very few, right? That's what I meant to do with these. I like names that seem like they're ordinary, and only when you drill down a bit do you find that there's actually some punnage going on. The only one of the list above that could work like that would be if I turned "Sun And" into "Anson." Anson Gin would be just like Mockingbird Tequila, except more convoluted. Therein lies the rub and the reason I'm not making any of these products in real life: why have the pun at all if it's not being used to draw customers in? If it's only for the satisfaction of my own wordnerdiness, then I'm better off stopping before I even start. (Aren't you glad you got to witness me arguing with myself again? This happens all the time, but I usually don't allow it to spill out of my fingers. I should just move on now.)

I've seen two things this week that pissed me off, and I'm curious to learn if they inspire your ire as well. First, I was picking up food from a kick-ass Italian place for lunch, and I noticed a new store had opened up next to it. Its name was "Linens et al." Stopping right there for a moment, hopefully that's enough for some of you to say, "Oh come on!" To that some of you: You are my people and I embrace you. Here's the conversation I imagine people having that led to that store being what it is:

Owner 1: So what do we want our store to be like?
Owner 2: I was thinking of it kinda like Linens 'n Things, but obviously not as big.
Owner 1: Hmmm, but how do we let people know that we sell the same stuff as Linens 'n Things?
Owner 2: We could totally bite off what they're doing and call ourselves "Fabrics 'n Things."
Owner 1: No, that's not close enough. What about "Linens y Mas" and just translate the last two words into Spanish?
Owner 2: I like the way you think. But that might sound like we're only targeting the Hispanic clients. Do you know any French?
Owner 1: No. Hey, Latin always sounds serious and established. Isn't "et al" something like "'n Things?"
Owner 2: I think it's "and others," but that's close enough for me. We're so fucking cool.
Owner 1: Yeah we are. High five!
Owner 2: (slaps hands with Owner 1) Ah, that was fun. Hey, "Bed, Bath, y Mas" might work, right?

I'm pretty sure it went down just like that, and my goat is sufficiently gotten by that. The second thing that pissed me off was when I went to the website for the reputable and top-of-mind news organization, CNN. For the last little while, they've had a little camera icon next to the stories that have video components. This week though, I noticed a new and puzzling icon: a t-shirt. "Why the hell would the have a t-shirt there?" I wondered, probably aloud. So I clicked on it. To my amazement, I went to a page that showed me that headline on a t-shirt that I could purchase for $15 plus $5 S&H. Yes, I could buy that CNN headline on a t-shirt that says I saw that headline on CNN for $20. While that would normally piss me off to a certain extent, I grew much more frustrated when I went back to the main site and saw the same icon next to "Copter Crash Caught by Security Camera." Are you as appalled as I am by this? Here's my level of appallment: I wrote a strongly-worded email to their customer service department. It takes a lot for me to go there, but I was moved. Here's what I wrote:

To Whom it May Concern:
I go to cnn.com on a daily basis, but if the site continues moving in its apparent direction, I'm afraid that's going to have to stop. What offended me so much? It's not the "important news" of Star Jones filing for divorce, nor is it the fact that a mainstream news site appears to have "Young People Who Rock" as an entire category of news. Rather, it's this whole shirt nonsense. Want to throw years and years of credibility away? It's easy, just let your audience click the t-shirt icon next to "Copter Crash Caught by Security Camera." $20 later, they can proudly wear your headline of injury and possible death on their chests. With your logo clearly emblazoned on the front, everyone will know who had neither the taste nor common sense to stop that from happening. CNN.com can't make more than $5 per transaction on these, and I can't imagine transactions numbering any higher than 100 a day. Is that really worth your credibility? Also, is there a process to determine which headlines are shirt-worthy? If not, I hope you're prepared to see some sick individuals wearing news of tragedies around with your company name and logo all over it. Please let me know that this Beta test won't be getting out of that phase. CNN is better than that, and I doubt I'm alone in my discomfort over that poor choice. Thank you for your time.

I'll let you know if I get a response to that. I hope I do, but if not, I'll settle for a lack of t-shirt icons in the near future.

Lastly, before I launch into the fascinating Car Watch section, I wanted to follow up on something I wrote sometime in the past month or two. I mentioned the word "upholster," and said that it was the only word I could think of in which "ph" wasn't used as an "f" sound. I asked you, my faithful readers, if there were others I was missing. I got no responses, so I felt pretty good about my proclamation. And then, yesterday, I used the word "haphazard" in a sentence. And then there were two.

Okeedokee, let's watch cars in the brilliantly named...Car Watch!

I saw a plate that made the 15 year-old boy who has a timeshare in my brain laugh hysterically. It read, "3TTS123." Ya know, I'm just gonna assume that that joke tells itself and stop there for this item. (And yes, I just giggled again writing the plate out.)

My homey Rockabye saw a plate that read, "FAMOUSG." I texted him back asking if it was Snoop Dogg. "No. Kenny," he replied. Damn, he got me there. That's such a touche that it's almost a threeche.

Lastly, I saw a plate that first confused me and then disturbed me. It said, "(Heart) TUB MOM." I spent a minute trying to figure out what a tub mom might be, and I was coming up empty. I did what I normally do with plates when they confuse me, and I looked at it backwards. As soon as I thought, "Mom...but...love" in my head, I immediately stopped thinking about that plate all together and went to my happy place instead.

Ok, friends and friends of friends, that's the meat of this rambling post. We have a big week ahead of us. Tomorrow, our friends Candice and Scott get married in what's sure to be a lovely ceremony, Wednesday is my adoring Grandma Mu's birthday, and Thursday is May Day, Labor Day in Mexico, Holocaust Remembrance Day, and our friend Jesse's birthday. Are you guys ready to handle all of that? Have a wonderful weekend and week, my peeps, and I'll see you in May. As always, I'm looking for material, so please send anything that pops into your head to ptkein@gmail.com. Shaloha.

Take me out

Good morning, friends, and welcome to the penultimate April 2008 offering here at UOPTA. I've said this before, but every single time I refer to you as "friends," I can't help but think of legendary Dodger announcer Vin Scully. He calls us that too, and I really think he means it (not to infer that I don't). In any case, I went to my first Dodger game of the season earlier this week, and I had a grand old time. It was me, my friend Greg, and my parents, and we had some kick ass seats between home and third. Before heading out for the game, I decided to jot down some predictions that I had. I'll launch into other random crap later on, but first I'd like to go through them one by one and report how accurate or inaccurate I was.

Prediction: "I will leave earlier than I said I would." The plan was for me to leave my office at 5:30 and pick up Greg from his work near the stadium.

Reality: Wrong. Normally, I would convince myself that it takes five minutes to walk to my car, five minutes to put an address in the GPS, and five minutes to put on my seatbelt. This time, though, I got caught up in work stuff and actually left at 5:30 on the dot. Damn, I was pretty confident about that one.

Prediction: "Traffic will seem really bad at first, but I'll actually make pretty good time."

Reality: Wrong. Traffic sucked my ass. I should've known better than to tempt the traffic gods in such a manner.

Prediction: "I'll get a little lost finding Greg, but it'll work out just fine."

Reality: Wrong. Thanks to my GPS (who I named HoBot 5000, by the way) and several calls to Greg during the final stretch of the drive, I got there without incident. It did work out fine, so I got that part right, but I'd say I've started off 0 for 3. Nice job, me.

Prediction: "Traffic from his place will be bad, but we'll get there early."

Reality: Doubly wrong! It was a breeze getting to the stadium after picking him up, but the initial drive took so long that we arrived as the National Anthem was being butchered. As a side note, Greg and I heard the song as we were making our way into the stadium and cringed repeatedly at how awful the woman sounded. I wouldn't say that either of us has a fine musical ear, but this was really something. Later, I was shocked to learn that the voice belonged to Chaka Khan. I assumed it was some contest winner or Teacher of the Year candidate and not a well-known artist. Score one for studio magic, I guess.

Prediction: "My parents will already be there."

Reality: I got one right! Not only were they there, but they were early enough that they'd already purchased and eaten their food.

Prediction: "I'll get a Dodger Dog and a Jumbo Dog, almost dropping one when I try putting ketchup on them."

Reality: Yes and no. I feel a little awkward about this one since it was completely in my hands whether I wanted to fulfill it or not. I did indeed get a Dodger Dog and a Jumbo Dog, but I didn't almost drop either one. I almost dropped the garlic fries Greg and I shared, but that doesn't count for much. Speaking of "much," my mom almost had a heart attack when she learned that my beer cost $11. "You could've bought two six packs for $11," she said. I kept egging her on, telling her that the foam that spilled was worth fifty cents, etc. Good times.

Prediction: "The Dodgers will stop sucking and lead 4-0 after 2 innings."

Reality: Not quite. They looked like crap after two innings, trailing 1-0 and having walked three straight batters. Uh oh.

Prediction: "Andruw Jones will hit a homerun, making Greg happy. Nady will have two ground outs and a strikeout, making me unhappy (but happy for the Dodgers)." This is in reference to our fantasy baseball teams. Xavier Nady is on the Pirates, so that's why I thought his failures would be good for the home team.

Reality: Jones didn't hit a homerun, but still went 2-3 and made Greg happy. Nady struck out once and went 1-3. Basically, I was off on this one too.

Prediction: "We'll leave after the top of the 8th, with the Dodgers up 4-2."

Reality: Half right! We left after the top of the 8th inning, just as I had foreseen. However, the Dodgers were up 9-2 when we left our seats, and up 10-2 before we got out of the stadium. Oh me of little faith.

prediction: "On the way back to Greg's, they'll blow the lead and lose 6-4."

Reality: Oh me of very little faith, apparently. Not only did they not blow the lead, but after tacking on another run, they retired the Pirates in order for an easy 9th. Final score, Dodgers 11, Pirates 2.

Prediction: "I'll get home to find a sleeping wife and dog and debate watching American Idol on fast forward before climbing into bed. I won't though."

Reality: I suck at predictions. While my lovely wife was in bed, she had not yet fallen asleep. I chatted with her and pet my very awake dog for a few minutes before getting into bed and reading a bit. I didn't consider watching Idol since I got a nice recap from Amber.

To conclude, I have now done two of these prediction posts and been heavily inaccurate both times. I think I can officially cross "psychic" off my list of potential careers. Oh well, it was a fun exercise nonetheless. And now, some random crap:

As you may know, I care a lot about words and word choice. I can't help but look at things with an editing eye, and that often leads to unnecessary frustration. I saw something last week though that made me think (uh oh). It was a print ad for a pendant, and it made reference to a "complementary necklace." I was intrigued, mainly because I had no way of knowing if that was an error or not. If they meant that the necklace complemented the pendant well, then they were absolutely correct. If they meant that it was free, however, then they should've spelled it "complimentary" instead. Both make sense, but the writer meant only one of them at the time of writing the copy. I find that kind of thing interesting, and I doubt I'll ever have that same word conundrum with "stationary" and "stationery." (Hmmm, I just inadvertently challenged myself. Let's see: "Despite all of the chaos throughout the years, that filing cabinet always held stationery." I think that does the trick.)

I have another story to tell about the Dodger game, but this one has nothing directly to do with sports. In the latter part of the game, Greg, my dad, and I went to get some decaf coffees and some Cracker Jacks. Even though I know they're often stupid, I was looking forward to the prize inside. As my mom and I discussed, the prizes used to be little plastic toys or mazes with a ball bearing inside. After a while, they switched to the temporary tattoos, and I liked those a lot as a kid. Sure, they never worked as well as they should've, but it was still fun to have a barely-intelligible picture on my arm. Maybe it was wrong of me to have any expectation as I opened up the little packet that said "Surprise Inside," but I was looking for something at least mildly entertaining. Instead, I got the stupidest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life. Ok, maybe that's a little extreme; you be the judge. It's a picture that looks like three yellow lines with six cartoon ants walking on it (three on each side). On the page facing this confusing picture, it says, "Pencil Topper. To use your pencil topper, just detach the prize and insert a pencil through the slits as shown below." As promised, there's a diagram of a piece of paper and a pencil going through it. Let's review the facts of the case: First, I learned that "pencil toppers" exist. Second, I learned that "pencil toppers" don't actually go on the top of the pencil, but rather more along the shaft, if you will. Third, somebody thought that the pencil-topper-seeking population would want to "top" their pencils with ants. Ants with hands. Who wear shoes. Is it the "stupidest fucking thing" yet? How about this? The last little page tells us something purported to be a Fun Fact: "A typical pencil can write 45,000 words." Oh really? That statistic means absolutely nothing to me. Can said pencil typically write "a" 45,000 times or "desafortunadamente" 45,000 times? If this were a word problem on an exam, the answer would be, "D. There is not enough information in the question to determine the answer." F you, Cracker Jack.

Ok, I need to go from boil to simmer. How should I accomplish that feat? But of course, with Car Watch! (Roll the intro. Damn, still no intro? I gotta work on that.)

On the way to this almost now-infamous Dodger game, I saw a license plate frame worth mentioning. At first, I just saw the bottom: "Fuck Bitches." Naturally, I was intrigued. There was traffic, but my lane's time came, and I caught up to the curious car. On the top of the frame, it said, "Get Money." Is that some sort of gangsta rap if/then statement? Here's the weird part (in case that's not weird yet): It was a woman driving. To me, there are only two possible explanations. First, she's a lesbian and finds that earning revenue is a good way for her to have sexual intercourse with her fellow woman. Second, the car belongs to a man with whom she is acquainted. Not to get all Helen Reddy on you, but wouldn't that frame be a deal-breaker for most women to ride in, let alone drive themselves? I would have a problem driving someone's car that said something that degrading about women, and I don't have the same personal stake in it. Readers, are you with me on this one or am I being over sensitive because of my years in Student Affairs?

Sticking to one of the themes in that last item, I was behind a car and saw from a bit of a distance a bumper sticker that said "Rainbows" in big, rainbowy letters. I got closer, and saw that entire text: "I'm not gay, I just really like RAINBOWS!" It's not often that you get someone's stylistic and sexual preferences in one bumper sticker, so bravo, Showy McStraightperson.

Last but not least, my homey Rockabye saw a plate that read, "NOFLR4U." Now what exactly are we being denied there? Flower? Flour? A floor? A flare? Fleur Delacour from the Harry Potter books? I really want to know, because I can't just call this person the Fill-in-the-Blank Nazi. What is it that you won't let me have? I want to know! Explain yourself!

Ok, I'm getting agitated again. Let's end with some happies. Happy Birthday today to my friend and former colleague Lindsey. She's cool; you guys would like her. Also, we have a busy week ahead of us. Whether you celebrate Passover or not, may the angel of death keep moving past your door this weekend. Tuesday is my favorite sister-in-law Weezie's birthday, so she deserves this pre-emptive shout out. And Wednesday is Administrative Professionals Day (no apostrophe after the S? That really confuses me.), so for all of you who professionally administer things, knock yourselves out. Have a great weekend and week, folks, and please email me at ptklein@gmail.com with anything about anything. Shaloha.

Choice word choice

Good morning, everyone, and I hope you're all doing well. A year ago, I suggested that we all call today Information Day going forward since the date is 4/11. I've held up my side of the suggestion, have you? Great. So Happy Information Day to one and all. May the hours that pass reveal insight and knowledge to you and yours. What a great holiday!

Ok folks, it's time to do what I have to do every once in a while: complain about word things that bother me. It's in my blood, and I can't fight it. There are just too many poor choices out there for me to sit idly by as my blood boils. Thank you for allowing me to vent in this space; I think it might actually be healthy for me.

First off, my favorite brother called me a little while ago after hearing a particular song by Sublime on the radio. The song is called "Annie," and I'll give you a sampling of lyrics:

"Annie's 12 years old, in two more she'll be a whore."
"Don't be afraid of the quickness you get laid, for your family get paid."
"Strong if I can, but I am only a man, so I take her to the can."
"The only family that she's ever had is her seven horny brothers and her drunk-ass dad. He needed money so he put her on the street."

"Wanna shoot your dad."

Good song, no? It's highly questionable content by all accounts, but I have no problem with them putting it on the radio if the powers that be allow it. Here's my problem: of all of those lyrics above, guess what's being bleeped out now. Go ahead, re-read them and meet me back here. Ready? "Drunk-ass dad." Not just "ass," but the entire phrase. That's right, folks, child prostitution and a hint of incest is fine, but let's make sure there's no reference to drinking (gasp) alcohol. This bugs me. It's almost as aggravating as when people bleep out the "hole" in "asshole," and that's really saying something. (By the way, I just read this paragraph again and "child prostitution and a hint of incest" sounds almost like a recipe. I thought of changing "hint" to "sprig" to complete the effect but ultimately concluded that it would be in bad taste. Whew, that was close.)

My dad received an email from someone and it deserves a mention in this space because of its sheer awesomeness. The specifics aren't necessary, but just know that the writer is supposed to be a professional in his industry. It was full - nay, chock full - of errors in spelling, grammar, and punctuation. My personal favorite part of the email was when the gentleman wanted to write the word "needs." It's a fairly common word, right? He managed to mess it up in three separate ways. What do I mean? Well, he wrote, "It Ned's to replace." Thus, there is an incorrect capitalization, a misspelling, and an uncalled for apostrophe (since it's not possessive). That's hard to do! Seriously folks, three distinct errors in a five-letter word is almost worth commending. At the very least, I found it worth sharing with you all. Hopefully you get even a fraction of the excitement that I did from that gaffe.

I saw a commercial on tv that pissed me off a little. Naturally, I turn to you. It's an ad for AMPM, and it shows a guy who has a new job, new office, stacks of cash, and a private butler. "You can never have too much good stuff," it tells us. Immediately following that statement, the announcer says, "AMPM. Too much good stuff." What? I thought you just said that I can never have that? It's the equivalent of having an ad that says, "Flying donkeys don't exist. AMPM. Flying Donkeys." Yes, that's an extreme example (because who needs that many asses up in the air? Don't answer that.), but the point is basically the same. Someone in the boardroom needed to speak up and say, "I don't think we should negate the possibility of what we're trying to sell" or even "I'm not sure that makes any sense." Espn.com's Bill Simmons says that all sports franchises should have a VP of Common Sense to review trades and other transactions before they're finalized. I think companies selling things on tv should have that position available too, and I'm just the man for it. I'd be the one to ask, "Why are there diagonal grill marks on the crunch wrap when we show it coming off a grill with vertical bars?" And I'd be there to mention that it might not be a good idea to make a commercial centering on the theme of sexual harassment when you're selling hot dogs and saying "wiener" several times. "Hmmm, excellent point, Mr. Vice President," they'd say. "You deserve yet another raise this week." "You're damn right I do," I'd reply, but with a little smile so they wouldn't be sure if I was being real cocky or faux cocky. ("Faux cocky" is fun to say. It could easily be a Japanese appetizer if it were spelled "fokaki," don't you think? "Yeah, we're gonna start with some edamame, two miso soups, and an order of fokaki please. Can we get that well done?")

Last rant of the day: The gas station closest to our house has one of the drive-through car washes. (I realize "drive-thru" is universally accepted now, but I just can't bring myself to write that. It's like "nite" and "lite," which I tend to only use in proper nouns. Do those things bug anyone else but me?) The sign advertising this particular car wash proudly says "Touchfree" on it. That's it, just "Car Wash. Touchfree." To me, that's not a plus when talking about washing someone's car. "We're going to make your car clean and shiny...but we won't even come close to touching it." Here's how I know I'm not crazy with this issue: this car wash's competitors advertise by blatantly telling us that they're going to touch our cars. "Hand Wash" is a big selling point, and there's no way to separate touching from that scenario. The only other reason I can see them putting that on there is in a sheepish manner, as if to say, "We know that hand washes are better, but if you want a decent job, ours is here too. Sorry. Touchfree." I sincerely doubt that's the case, but I don't have other scenarios in which that makes sense. (And yet one more parenthetical grievance: I realize that I make up a lot of words here so I can't really complain, but "Touchfree" just doesn't do it for me. Can't they at least mix in a hyphen or something?)

Ok, before we get to the Car Watch section (not to be confused with the preceding Car Wash item), here's one use of words of which I wholeheartedly approve: My loving mother-in-law saw a t-shirt for a school of engineering. On it, it said, "Talk nerdy to me." Way to embrace your social status, man. There's no need for pretense there, and I'm glad you agree.

And now, as it has been prophesized in the annals of our forefathers, it's time for Car Watch.

I saw a plate that said, "CRAVIN U." Me? Really? I mean, I'm honored and everything, but don't you think this is a bit rushed? We've only known each other for, well, two seconds. I understand I'm dreamy and all, and while it's truly flattering, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to pass. Please redirect your crave elsewhere, kind sir or madam.

My homey Rockabye saw a bumper sticker that I'm pretty sure I've seen before, but that doesn't make it any less blogworthy: "Save the planet...we need a place to boogie." I really can't find any fault with that logic. Oh sure, there are more important reasons to keep Earth alive, but until there's proof that we can boogie on the moon or Mars, it looks like we're relegated to our standard Earth boogie.

My dad saw a license plate and called me about it. It was a very nice car driven by a woman dressed up in all sorts of jewelry and fancy shmancy attire. Her plate read, "RAT BCH." He asked me what that could be besides "Rat Bitch," and I was at a total loss. If I'd heard of such a location as Rat Beach, that would be a viable option, but thankfully I'm unaware of said place. Could it be referring to a "rat batch" used in an experiment or clinical trials? I don't think so. I believe she is The Rat Bitch, and I'm surprisingly untroubled by that.

Lastly, I saw a plate and stared at it for a few moments (I wasn't driving). It said, "CATS CVY." I assumed off the bat that the woman driving the car was named something that had Cat as a nickname. It was the second part that was troubling me. Was it telling me that Cat is curvy? Was "covey" a word? I went through a few options before I noticed that the car was a Chevy. "No," I thought, "please don't let it be that." I was distressed that "Chevy" could be the final answer, so I went back to wracking my brain over what else it could be. I didn't want "Chevy" to win, because Cat did a horrible job leading me to that conclusion, and if I got there without her help, then her plate was successful. (Yes, I actually view the world like that sometimes.) After a few more minutes of thinking of every possible vowel sound and potentially missing consonants, I gave up and let "Cat's Chevy" be the true meaning. The H is so important to that word! How could she expect us to know what the hell she's trying to convey if she's not going to accurately represent 50% of the words in the statement? You're on my shitlist, Cat, for crimes against the plate. I hope you're happy.

Ok, I've spewed enough vitriol for the week. Happy Anniversary tomorrow to our dear friends Lisa and Paul. I'll always remember their wedding date since it's similar to ours. We were married on 3/21/04, and they were on 4/12/03. Isn't that just adorable? (Yes, folks, it is.) Have a great weekend and week, everybody, and I'll see you back here next Friday. In the meantime, please remember to write to ptklein@gmail.com with anything at all. Take care, friends.

April showers bring random crap

Shaloha, people and other English-reading species. It's a pleasure to see you again, and I hope your Aprils have gotten off to good starts. Yes, we're in another month that can also be a person's name. Speaking of that topic, if you name your kid after a month, does s/he have to be born then too for it to make sense? I think it would be weird to have a kid named April born in November. I could see someone naming a child after when s/he was conceived, and I can also see that getting a little creepy pretty quickly. Imagine that kid having to explain that over and over again as a freshman in high school. Yeah, that's awkward.

Lastly on this spur-of-the-moment topic, I think it's really cool that the initials of July through November spell out Jason. 66% of the Jasons whose birthdays I know off-hand fall into that five-month span. Jason S., you just missed it. You're a walking paradox, man.

Ok, let's switch to some different random crap instead of this month kick I've been stuck on for three mini paragraphs. I had a thought (uh oh), and it was this: For kids born in the 90s, I imagine that they hear Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" for the first time and think, "Well why don't they just go on Maury Povich and settle this thing?" (I wonder how Maury feels that I automatically associate him with paternity tests and not anything else from his 20+ years of "journalism." That said, it's gotta be better than being known for getting your nose broken by a thrown chair, eh Geraldo?) It would be fantastic to see a decked out Michael on the Povich stage, his head in his hands, awaiting the news. Maury then slowly approaches him with an envelope and kneels beside him with as much bedside manner as he can muster. "Michael," he'd say, "we have the results. And the chid...is not your son." Michael would leap to his feet, do some spin moves, say some Hee Hees, and then moonwalk over to Billie Jean. Here's the kicker: He says to her, "You thought you could get your SHAM ON! SHAM ON!" And the crowd goes wild. Uh oh, I think I just wrote my first SNL skit.

So I was at my co-worker Rob's bachelor party last weekend, and I have three very minor stories to tell. Separately, I'm not sure any of them are very interesting, but together, they take up more space while not being interesting. See how that works? First, there were some funny signs that I'm getting older. While the group of guys usually talked about sports, funny stories from the past, or random stupid shit, every once in a while things would change. On one occasion, there was a long dinner discussion about wedding bands. That's understandable, I suppose, due to the fact that Rob's getting married. Still, that wouldn't have happened a few years ago. On another occasion, a few of the guys started talking about their kids' feeding times, how many hours they sleep, and whether their wives are still pumping or not. Now that definitely wasn't a conversation at previous bachelor parties I've attended. It was different, and I liked it. When I stepped outside to call my lovely wife for a few minutes, I didn't come back to a bunch of guys telling me how whipped I am or asking me when I could pick my balls up at the cleaners. Instead, many of them went and called their wives to say hi or check on the kids. Am I officially a grown up? Yeah, I guess so, and as long as I can still mentally revert to 15 year-old Peter from time to time, that's fine by me.

Second story: I was sitting at a blackjack table and getting my ass handed to me. It's not often that when cashing out, a dealer says, "Wow, I don't think you won a single hand there." "You noticed that too?" I asked. Anyway, I switched to a new table where it was just me and a dealer. After a couple of hands, I noticed that I had the song "Big Casino" by Jimmy Eat World in my head. I like that song; it's on a cd that my friend Jon made for me, and it was surely in my head for obvious reasons. A few minutes later, that same song is being piped through the casino speakers. It was a sign, I just knew it. I put out a bigger than normal bet, and told the dealer what was going on. As he started dealing, he said, "Yeah, we play that song all the time here. It's probably in your head from hearing it an hour ago." That made it feel like less of a sign, and losing that next hand pretty much confirmed that no magic was afoot.

Third and last story: On the plane ride back, I thought I heard the flight attendant say something to a passenger during the beverage service, but I wasn't sure. A couple of rows closer, and it was confirmed: "I'm sorry, we ran out of water." I hadn't heard that one before, and I had to switch it up with only a few seconds to spare and go with apple juice instead. I noticed that they had ice, and I thought for a moment about asking for a cup of ice and just waiting for it to melt, but then I realized that that plan was, how do you say, fucking stupid.

Our friend Danielle sent my lovely wife an email, who quickly realized that it should be forwarded to me. In it, Danielle said that she was looking up season tickets for a sports team, and she happened upon this sentence: "The following optional information must be completed to qualify your entry..." Yes, my friends, the optional info must be completed. To their credit, the mandatory information is voluntary.

And lastly in this section, I heard a Beastie Boys song from my youth on the radio this morning. I've known the words to this song since going to summer camp when I was in the single digits, and it wasn't until today that one line stuck out to me. Ad Rock mentions that he has some beer, but more specifically, he has "a quart of beer." At first, I thought about only milk coming in quarts and how weird it sounded to have beer in that container size. Then I broke it down a little further and realized that it really wasn't all that odd. There have been several times that I've had two pints of beer at an establishment. Just because I haven't consolidated those into one quart-sized container doesn't mean that I haven't just imbibed a quart of beer. Hell, by that logic, I've had my share of half-gallons of beer at a time. New math is fun!

Ok, it's time put our left feet in, take our left feet out, put our left feet in, and shake them all about as we transition to the Car Watch. That, my friends, is what it's all about.

I was walking with a couple of co-workers to pick up some food, and one noticed a plate on an oncoming car that I just missed somehow. It was a little old lady driving, and the plate told us, "BE NICE." How adorable is that? Nothing like putting grandmotherly advice out there for anyone who comes near your car. (As a side note, writing "little old lady" reminded me of something. At UCSB, there was a small theatre called the Old Little Theatre, or OLT since everything had to be known by initials. The first time I saw it, I said to someone, "Wow, those adjectives aren't usually in that order." That was over a dozen years ago, and I stand by that assessment wholeheartedly.)

Long-time and loyal reader Sue sent me an email with a plate, and I was overjoyed to receive it. (That's what happens when people email me: I become happy. So basically, when you don't write me with Car Watch items or random crap, you're attempting to keep me from happiness. Just thought I'd point that out.) It said, "DEADJOB," and it was on a black sedan. It wasn't a Hearse, which would've been just too perfect, and Sue suggested that it could be a pest control worker or someone in a dead-end job. I think pest control is the leading candidate for me right now, because even though someone from a funeral parlor having that would make the most sense, it would probably jeopardize his or her business if anyone saw that. Any professions that make sense that I'm missing, gentle readers?

My dad sent me a bumper sticker that read, "Don't Knit and Drive. Knittersanonymous.com." I was intrigued by this on two levels. First, I hadn't realized that drunken knitting was a problem in our society. In Canada, sure, but not here. Second, while I know this was a joking bumper sticker, I still find it strange to have anything "anonymous" attached to a person in such a public format. Hey, check this out: I just went to their website, and they also have a "Friends Don't Let Friends Knit Drunk" sticker. It's a full-on epidemic!

Speaking of bumper stickers sold on websites, I was on the always glorious www.theonion.com, and they had a sticker that made me laugh out loud: "Honk if you have poor impulse control." I just laughed again from typing that. I think they found their audience.

Last but not least, my homey Rockabye saw a bumper sticker that made him laugh for hours straight: "Who farted?" I wish I had seen that, because I wouldn't calmly pulled up next to him or her, rolled my window down, and put my hand up apologetically. "My bad," I'd say, "my bad."

And with that, I'm out like the opposite of in. Sacky Christi's birthday is in the week between my posts, so I hope you'll all mentally wish her a happy one. As always, folks, email me at ptklein@gmail.com with whatever crosses your mindpath. I just made that phrase up and I like it already. An SNL skit and a phrase? I'm on fire. Not literally. I'll stop now. See you next week.