Customer Service Disclaimer

I would rather not sound too defensive; but that is how this is going to come off, so I’ll go with it. This is a BLOG, which is short for bio-log. It's a journal. So what if this is self-indulgent? That's the point. If you read the side-bar describing what this thing is about; it clearly states that this is basically an editorial. Notice I did not title this "The Conscientious Objector", “The Road to Wisdom”, or some other title that would lead to believe you were led here for enlightenment or education. I’m not the friggin’ Dali-Lama, and certainly no professor. Now; I may have something more eye opening to offer in the future, but I even prefaced the last entry by telling you it was a rant. My good buddy, 3rdi decided to let me have it via email:

A whole bunch of...... Blah blahblah blah blah blah. All I have to say is if your going to take the time 2 write something...........make it interesting or tell a story. I hate whinny crybaby bloggers that use 10 page to bitch and moan about the ovious. Who cares. Educate or stimulate. No mental masterbation. Oh and I love your myspace ??? Post this one~ What would you do if I took your internet away?
3rdi
Ps. Cut and paste this to your blogger page.

With friends like this, who needs enemies? And I thought my grammar was bad. Thanks to everyone who provided positive feedback and encouragement, it means a lot. So, for those of you who do have comments; they belong in the comments section. I urge you to participate (and that includes criticizing). Keep the comments coming, both good and bad. I love ‘em all.

Vehicular Pet Peevs

Ahhh, my first rant. I'll only all but mention the more obvious offenses such as, driving in the left lanes when not passing the people on the right, honking excessively when it's not to avoid an accident, smoke spewing shit-boxes, and the dreaded cell phone zombies. They say, if you're driving while speaking on your phone, your ability to react is impared similarly to as if you're running an illegally high blood alcohol content. I still don't know why they can't get the hands free law passed here. Damn lobbyists. There's some pretty crazy shit people do at the wheel (or not at the wheel for that matter), and while not everything I see out there is a direct threat to me, I can't help but notice these things and wonder.




"The Parasol a.k.a. The Blinders"

What I believe to be a strictly Califonia phenomena. I've seen this in none of the 30 or so other states I have driven in thus far. I understand that some cultures hold fair skin to be very important and will go to extreme measures to achive it. But, this is "The Sunshine State" and you're driving now. The people pictured are at least holding onto the wheel and have somelin eof sight...I have repeatedly seen folks cruizing down the highway while holding up a full page newspaper with their left hand that obscures the entire window. Hanging a flyer or towel in your window doesn't do a whole lot for the community of defensive driving. I can't see you, and guess what? You can't see me or the tandem 36 wheeler about to crush your Del Sol. Two words: Sun-block, window-tint, sun-glasses, sun-visor, don't-drive. Well, that was a bunch of "two words ", pick a set.

"The Plastic Couch Cover"

Or at least; basically, the equivalent. I have seen this thing on a BMW once, and countless times on various models of Saturns. I apologize for the out of focus picture (it was taken by some jerk who didn't have two hands on the wheel). Basically, it is this black plastic disk that protrudes a few inches and is attached to the center of the wheel. Searching the internet for what this device actually is, has yielded zero results for me. In my current state of ignorance; I'll take an educated guess and say it's there to protect the wheel. And I doubt from theft, as Saturn rims aren't exactly a hot commodity. So what from? The really bad parking jobs that Saturn owners are often guilty of? Getting dirty? Frequent trips to the abusive mechanic? Who knows? Why do people leave those plastic couch covers on their sofas anyway? Resale Value? If so, they are going to be very disappointed when it comes time to sell.

Speaking of Parking Jobs, I have at least two neighbors who bother me with theirs. I live on a very steep hill in San Francisco and the curb is littered with driveway entrances, leaving some very short sections of parkable street. Some of these spots are just big enough for two properly parked cars. Problem is; the two neighbors of which I speak, choose to park damn near dead-center of these pavement havens. One of these folks is the owner of one of those Honda Insights, and moves their car only on street cleanig day. I'm sure they bike to work or use public transportation, good for everybody. Now, I recycle religiously and am a bit of enviornmentalist myself and I'm sure mother nature thanks you kindly for being able to go 700 miles between fill-ups. However, you've just taken my space and forced me and the rest of the neighbors to drive around the block for another 5 or 10 minutes spewing ozone depleting fumes while we look for a spot.

"Spoiled"

In case you are unaware of what a spoiler is actually meant to do, please keep reading along. This device is basically a wing that provides reverse lift and applies downward force to the rear end of your vehicle to achive superior handling, especially while cornering. The thing is, you need to be pushing some major speeds for a spoiler of this magnitude to become effective. We've all seen the local Geo Metro with the stainless steel wing that rises higher than the trunk...It's like, come on dude, Formula One race cars don't even have spoilers that big. At least the fellow pictured here bothered to match the paint, and the rest of his car has matching bad-assitude from a visual standpoint. However, The National Space and Aeronautics Museum called, and they want their exibit back.

"Lean back, lean back."

Ok, I use to have a CRX and had the seat reclined a bit more than was practical...when I was 17. Notice that the seat is all but centered in the rear window? I can't figure out if this guy is trying to chaffuer himself by sitting in the back seat while driving or trying to cure his Scoliosis. Either way, if someone rear-ends him (and people tailgate at 70mph out here), he's gettin' some wicked whiplash. The headrest is not actually for resting, it's there to protect you. So, pull up your pants, and lean forward, lean forward.

"Those sons of bitches that stole my gas twice in one month"

While driving to work one morning I was stopped at an intersection and the construction worked on the corner gave me a heads up that my gas flap was open. Ok, maybe I forgot to close it. But, I don't think so. I continue on my drive to work when I notice that my trip odometer that I reset upon fill-ups is only reading 100 miles and my gas gauge is reading 1/4 tank. What? How? Why? Yup, you guessed it. With rising gas prices, I have become the victim of fuel siphoning. I didn't think people actually participated in this activity outside of Cheech and Chong movies, but they do. Well, twice was enough. Considering the locking gas cap that I bought cost ten dollars; if in the future it prevents me from being liberated of 3.3 gallons of gas or more, it pays for itself. I think it may already have. Knock on wood.



All of that said; one thing I will give all of these folks credit for, is not driving around while trying to be an ametuer photographer at the same time. I've got that jerk move covered.

Also, I realize that Florida is actually the Sunshine State. Golden State just doesn't work as well for my argument; editorial license taken quite liberally here.

Update: That thing on the Saturn's wheel is a Spike Spider. It's some sort of mounting system for a snow chain alternative. This justifies my point even further...it's mid-summer in SF, take that thing off.

Whoa!

I didn't see that one coming.

Had some friends over for BBQ on Saturday night. They were a bit later than planned on and I started in on the Bombay and tonics a bit too early. Of course, my friends were happy to oblidge and get up to pace as quickly as possible. Needless to say; we had a great meal (I was cooking), as well as got totally faced, blotto, faded, pissed (chose your favorite vernacular). Had a long session of requests for nostalgic 80's tunes over a few card laden drinking games after dinner. Eventually, we decided to go hit the town. After some considerable coordination efforts, we found ourselves at the Bubble Lounge. I B-lined it to the bar for a double-tall maker's and ginger, and this is where thinks start to get foggy. By the time I had relocated to posse again, one them (I think it was Andy) ordered a bottle of Vueve Cliquot and there was glass of champagne waiting for me. I'm sure we danced, talked, people watched, and.......

Huh. Next thing I know, there is a cab driver who is apparently very frustrated with me because I am not rising out of my stupor fast enough for him to get to his next fare. I am low on cash (surprise, we were at a bar in the city), the meter says $15, and can't figure out why my friends weren't splitting the fare with me, since the plan we had laid earlier in the night was to regroup at my house after going out. I do actually remembering arguing a bit with him over the fact that my friends weren't present. Well, that's when the motion sickness (we'll just call it that) kicked in and I had to open the door, lean out the car and lessen the contents of my gastric system. All over the road. Amazingly, this can have a very temporary sobering effect. I came to my senses, realized he was right (I was alone), and paid him with the old debit card. Like I said, that afore mentioned sobering affect was temporary and the next thing I know it was noon on Sunday. I'm in bed half dressed, watch and all (although, I somehow managed to get my contacts out), and I normally sleep sans garments. Very uncomfortable, but I didn't know any better.

After recovering my phone from deep inside the covers of my bed, I discovered messages which confirmed most, if not some, of what I've just told you. The first from 1:20am was Sara, who was very politelty calling on my whereabouts. Thank you for your concern. The second at 1:50am was Chris, bitching me out for ditching everyone at the bar. Oops.

That said, I did not have a particularly productive Sunday. My apologies and thanks to my dinner guests, my liver, the neighbors, and anyone at the lounge I may have...oh, who knows? And finally, thank you to the gentleman who was kind enough to give me a ride home (for $15).

What, no Jelly?

Went to a Stones Throw Records show last night. Killer line-up for any hip-hop fan who doesn't own Nelly albums...Peanut Butter Wolf, J-Rocc, Med, and Madlib (read more about him here and check the comments). Problems began when the warm up DJ didn't get off the tables until after 11pm. This opener, whose name I did not catch, laid out some underground and indy recs, intermingled with lots of classic hip hop. Great job, he even juggled a bunch of doubles, and that can be very difficult to do when you are not on your own, familiar set up. He gave way to Peanut Butter Wolf who threw down a very tight set.


Super eclectic...From bay area favorites (kids flipped on Too Short), to classic obscurities (great, but not oft heard), other hip-hop favorites, and even a short journey into some old school Latin tracks. Gave me the urge to cha-cha, and I don't even know how to do that dance. At one point he was playing a one-off version of "The Girl from Ipanema", he kind of sung along over the first bit of the song and dropped a hip-hop beat in halfway through and made it bump. I also heard what sounded like a Cuban cover of Stevie Wonder's "Pastime Paradise". I loved it, it's hard to do Stevie's music justice. I'll have figure out who performs that one.


Now we've crossed the midnight threshold and J-Rocc can be seen drifting about the stage trying to plug various equipment in. From what I later heard PBW say on the mic, J-Rocc had said to him, "you play one more record" and proceeded to disappear for the next twenty or so minutes. As happy as I was to enjoy the Wolf, time is waning and we have at least three more artists to get through. I should have known better; they flyer said that the venue was open until 4am. I went on the hope that it would be one of those wham, bam, thank you ma'am shows where they use a filler DJ to fill the 2 to 4 slot, because I had to work this morning. Apparently, it wasn't.


To cut a short story shorter, my date and I were beat and decided to sacrifice the rest of the show for the sake of being human beings at work on Friday morning. I'm sorry I missed the rest; I am a fan of all of those artists and I really wanted to know if Madlib would perform any Quasimoto tracks. I may never know...

Open Season

At the suggestion of a friend, I've decided to join the wide world of blogging. I've been leaving comments on his blog frequently enough that he believes they warrant their own arena. There are several out there that I have been following for the past year or so; until now, I've only been tempted to start one of my own. So...here it is. Thanks, Mr. Monkey.

There's plenty more to come and I encourage anyone and everyone that honors me by visiting this little offering to contribute to my comment section.