FUF #24

Good morning, my friends. In honor of the final Harry Potter book coming out last weekend, today I wish for the Sorting Hat to place all of us in FUFflepuff. I realize that means absolutely nothing to many of you out there, but that's never stopped me before. 'Tis Friday, and 'tis a glorious feeling to say that. Not only do we get the standard two days off from work, but my lovely wife and I are spending those days in our old stomping ground of Santa Barbara. I can't wait; it's always nice to be up there. Yes, always. In typical Follow Up Friday fashion, I shall ramble about random things for a while before launching into Car Watch. Like the Hokey Pokey, that's indeed what it's all about.

"Stomping ground" is an interesting phrase, no? I just let it roll right off my fingers without considering it at all first. In actuality, I rarely if ever stomped there. I occasionally stomp now, but that's usually reserved for playing around with my nephew or my pup. Neither was ever with me while I was living in SB, so it could be wholly inaccurate.

I was thinking (uh oh) about other words this morning as I sat in traffic, because that's what I tend to do. Somehow the phrase "pomp and circumstance" entered my brain, and I started thinking about the words individually. If someone only used "pomp" in a sentence that would normally have the whole phrase, I'd still know what he or she was talking about. Just using "circumstance" wouldn't get the point across though. "Circumstance" is a strange word, and now it looks and sounds completely made up to me. I hate it when that happens.

Time for more word stuff, for that is how I roll. You know what's a very interesting word to me? "Weather." Not the noun about atmosphere and shit like that, but its other uses. Something (or someone) looking weathered is a bad thing, like it's been unprepared to handle the elements to which it's exposed. But "to weather" something is good. We weather storms and crises, and emerge from something that was difficult or dangerous. I find those usages both contracditory and fascinating, while you might find them neither. That's fine by me; I would never assume that others think like me.

Getting away from words for a moment (although not really since I'm still using them), my favorite brother called me a week or two ago with a question I wasn't expecting. "How many french fries do you think there are in a large order from Carl's Jr.?" he asked. Being from the same gene pool as me, he'd decided to count for some unknown reason. I first told him that I didn't know because I boycott Carl's Jr. for reasons stated in earlier posts. Then I pictured a large order of fries (I pictured a McDonald's one) and counted as an imaginary hand took imaginary fries out one by one. After about ten, a sizeable chunk was gone from the fry holder in my mind's eye. My first thought was 36, but I kept picturing about a third gone, so I went with 30 instead. "88!" he said. That shocked me, because 88 of them couldn't fit in my imaginary one. He admitted that a couple might have broken in half and been counted twice, but that number was very close to accurate. 88 fries is a whole lotta fries. What would you have guessed, gentle readers?

And lastly before the Car Watch, I have two baby announcements. First, my cousin Kelly and her husband Jeff had a little boy named Rio this week. I've seen one adorable picture so far, and I can't wait to meet him in person. I have no idea what type of cousin he is to me, but I hope "twice removed" is in there because it's the name of my favorite Sloan album. Second, my good friend Suzanne and her husband Andrew had a pretty little baby girl named Keira this week. I hope to meet her soon as well, and not just so I can point out that the words Klein and Keira have some noticeable similarities.

Are you ready for some Car Watch action? I can't hear you! No, seriously, sound doesn't travel through the internets, so I'm unable to hear you. I'll assume that you all said yes.

My friend Dave saw "CALME DR" on a license plate. I saw that and immediately thought, "Call me doctor." Dave saw three possibilities: "Call me doctor," "Calm doctor," or "California medical examiner doctor." Yes, I think that's reaching a little too. Dave does that.

Sacky Kevin wrote in saying that he saw a license plate frame on a new Dodge Viper that read, "I am burning the gas you are saving." I understand that this guy's probably trying to come across as an asshole, and he's being successful. Technically, I think the gas I'm saving is still in my tank, but let's not read too deeply into what was probably a very shallow thought.

Loyal reader Rockabye saw a plate saying, "HIHWRU." Cute, but I don't think he or she really cares. Does the person really want me to pull next to him or her, roll down my window, and yell, "Fine! A little tired but hanging in there! Thanks for asking!" I really don't think so. Insincere questions posed by license plates really grind my gears.

Rockabye, who spends more time in his car than anyone else I know, saw a bunch of other things as well. There was a plate that said "IM TRBL," which would cause me to make my "Ooh I'm scared" face. Except Rockabye pointed out that it could be "I'm terrible" also, which would instead cause me to make my "Aw, keep your chin up" face. There's an understanding nod involved in that face.

He also saw "IBUUBME" on a plate. If I accept the first part of that plate as truth, then I guess I'm bound to accept the second due to the reflexive property, right? ('Property' is all on the top line of the keyboard, by the way.) The thing is, I don't buy the first part. That person isn't me, and it's pretty damn egotistical to be telling everyone on the road that you're one in the same. Even Chaka Khan only thinks she's every woman.

Lastly, Rockabye spied "DNT LOOK" on a plate. Fine, don't look at my finger as I pass you then.

That's it, gentle readers. Have a great weekend and know that I'll be having a fun and relaxing time in SB, thinking of strange things to bombard you with. I can't help it; it's my nature. That said, I still desperately need your help to keep UOPTA going. Please write to ptklein@gmail.com with any thoughts, questions, stories, jokes, etc. and we'll keep this shindig a rockin'.

Fast (and furious) food

Longtime UOPTA reader Laynie posted a comment yesterday that took the words right out of my mouth. She mentioned her hatred for Carl's Jr.'s advertisements. The thing is, I almost added an entire Carl's Jr. section to yesterday's post but decided to split it into two and save that part for today. Smart lady, that Laynie. (Please note, she also hates Paris Hilton, so the picture to the left is of the hotel heiress/dirty whore in a Carl's Jr. commercial.)

First, let's go back in time (cue time-travel music). As a teenager, I ate fast food more often than I should have. Since McDonalds and Burger Kings were ubiquitous, those were the ones I frequented more...frequently. (Yeah, I could hit the backspace key and re-do that sentence, but I like to keep moving forward, ya know?) I really enjoyed what Jack in the Box had to offer, especially their $1 menu items. Wendy's was good too, although I never quite got used to the square patties on the burgers. Seriously, what's going on there? Who thought that would be a good idea? Not that hamburger patties are natural-looking to begin with, but the square ones look more like art deco than fast food to me. In any case, my favorite fast food hamburger was the Western Bacon Cheeseburger at Carl's Jr. Oh I know how unhealthy that is, but that burger was what I was looking for when I was looking...for a burger. Damn, did it again.

Still moving forward! Then Carl's built an entire ad campaign around how messy their burgers are to eat. That's not my thing, and I found the commercials actually unappetizing. In addition, one commercial focused on guys spying on a woman through her window and making sexual groaning sounds every time the ketchup dripped off the burger. As if that wasn't enough, they made sure that they had all the sound effects they'd need to accentuate each bite. It was disgusting on several levels.

I guess it worked though, because they didn't stop there. No, gentle readers, they were not content just to gross me out; they also needed to piss me off. They had radio commercials with little songs about other restaurants' "wimpy burgers." They proceeded to tell us what kinds of guys ate wimpy burgers, and that amounted to basically saying, "You're a homo if you eat burgers from anywhere else." They were only slightly more subtle than that. Then, they launched commercials making fun of Chicken McNuggets, pointing out that chickens don't have a part of the body called "the nugget." Valid point, I suppose, but not when it comes from the same company who sold "Chicken Stars." They conveniently avoided that part, as you might expect. My anger was building.

Next, they had a campaign centered on the fact that without the existence of Carl's Jr., men would die of starvation. Because we're idiots. They show men poking raw meat at the market, etc., being completely incapable of anything but eating their food in a messy manner. They couldn't do any worse, right? Oh how I wish that were true. Instead, they assault the viewing public with ads for "The Six Dollar Burger." The rationale behind that burger is that it would cost $6 at other places. At Carl's Jr. though, the one called "The Six Dollar Burger" doesn't cost $6. The value meal costs darn near that, but focus, people. It's what it would cost. Oh wait, then they launched commercials telling us that a burger like that costs $20 at Restaurant X and $10.95 at Cafe Y. To me, that completely invalidates the entire reason behind naming the burger what they did.

Even worse, they then had the audacity to launch another campaign saying that at Carl's, you can get a restaurant-quality burger without all of the annoying things that come with going to an actual restaurant. What examples do they show us? You know, annoying things like...when people clean the counter. How dare they? And my hatred level rose even more.

Fortunately, I was not alone in my hatred. Frequent visitors of this space probably know that it was my friend Dusty who shared this anger with me. And so we did what we could - we boycotted Carl's Jr in the early stages of these campaigns. Remember, they had my favorite burger there, but this was bigger than burgers. This was about insulting my intelligence with commercials that portray all men as stalking, imbecilic slobs, and we weren't going to take that lightly.

Years passed, and we remained true to our vow. Then one day, I was put into a position I never imagined. I was working in Palm Springs for a few days, and I don't know where anything is there. It had been a very busy day, and I had only managed to eat half a sandwich at around 11am. We finished something at 8:45pm, and I had to be somewhere else nearby at 9:15pm. I didn't think there was going to be any food at this next event, and I was understandably starving. So, not knowing where anything was in the city, I drove toward where I had seen a supermarket before in hopes that there would be a fast food place there as well. I pulled in, and sure enough, there were two fast food places: Carl's Jr. and Green Burrito. The problem, though, was that the Green Burrito was in the Carl's Jr. and they shared the same drive thru. "Well, shit," I thought, "would this count as breaking my boycott?" I thought about it for a minute, even though I didn't have much time. Finally, I turned around and left the parking lot. It was a close enough call that I didn't feel like I could risk it. Instead, I drove toward what I thought was a more populated area and scanned the streets for food. Almost ten minutes later, I found a Jack in the Box and wolfed down a Jumbo Jack in my car before heading to the next event (which was fancily catered, by the way).

In recounting this tale to Dusty after returning home, he admired my stance but would've been ok with me eating only Green Burrito food from that drive thru. Other people weren't as understanding and think I was a stubborn fool for not taking the opportunity to eat when I could. I'm a man of principle though, and I'm proud to say that I held true to my convictions even in tough times. I know what you're thinking, and yes, I think I'm just like Job too.

So Laynie, rest assured that I didn't just leave Carl's Jr. commercials out of yesterday's post without a good reason. My hatred runs deep enough for them that they deserved a whole day dedicated to the overall shittiness of their ad campaigns. And mind you, they've incurred all of this wrath without involving Kirstie Alley. That's hard to do. And that concludes The Six Thousand Word Blog Entry, available in only 1,179 words. Bastards.