Saturday, November 26, 2005

Six bucks and my right nut says we're not landing in Chicago.

Del: You play with your balls alot.
Neal: Oh really?
Del: Yeah, you do more ballhandling in one minute than Larry Bird does in an hour. Neal: You know what I'd really like?
Del: A couple of more hands and an extra set of balls?
- Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

I remember when I first saw this movie. It was an instant classic, like Bad Santa during Christmas. It especailly comes to mind around this time of year right before we gorge ourselves into a eating frenzy for one day.

When I think of that fateful day when the pilgrims said let's eat turkey with our friends the Indians. Then after the wine and triptophan kicked in the Pilgrims made a deal to buy some land from the indians for three shiny rocks, a barrel of whiskey, and a place called the western frontier.

This Thanksgiving I spent with my in-laws in Phoenix. It's not the same whenever you spend the holidays at any other place than where you usually spend it. Still, I try to make the most of the Turkey day by frying a turkey for the family. I tried to go back to my traditional turkey day roots by running a race Thanksgiving morning. I know that many of you are saying, "What are you mad?" Still, it something that I did when I was younger in the city of New Orleans, and I wanted to continue it. It helps build the appetite for later, plus I like to relate myself to Lucius Jackson running around a prison yard with Dragline running next to him trying to stretch that belly out. As I ran the race, I kept thinking, "I gotta stretch that little old belly out."

One of my other traditions is the fateful respite of watching Planes,Tranes, and Automobiles while the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes assemble in my stomache for a pep rally. I started watching Planes, Trains, and Automobiles in college with a buddy of mine. It was our Turkey day movie. Not this year. It was pushed off due to a late dinner, and plenty to clean up. Still it was a good Thanksgiving. I ran a good race, ate a lot of turkey, cleaned up, and finished the day with pumpkin pie. It's not always the same as back home, but then again nothing ever is. It's all what you make of the day to be thankful for everything you have.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Visions of Abita dancing through my head

Gonna go watch the sun set on the Pacific tonight. Hope everyone could see this magnificent sight. Will be holding a cold one while I watch it set.

Life is funny sometimes. I remember the other day being happy that I found a gas station that was charging 2.67 a gallon for unleaded. I was so happy that I told everyone I saw that day, even the checkout clerk at Vons. He was shocked too. Then today in a quite random search on the internet, I find this beverage depot. They sell Abita Amber there. Not only Abita Amber, but Turbodog, and Purplehaze. It was like Christmas had arrived on Nov. 10th. Wow!! I turned and looked anxiously around to find someone to tell that would care. Where's my wife when I need her. On the other side of the library.

Psssstt, babe.
Loud cough.
Finally I get out of my chair, risking the spot I cherished for 15 minutes waiting in line, and went searching for my wife. When I got hold of her I mentioned that I had great news. She was so excited. What was it? A job offer? Insurance settlement is more than we asked? Free tickets to a musical? No, none of the above. When I told her I found a place that sells Abita Amber in San Diego, this blank look appeared. That's it. Oh, great news hon. Then she went back to searching for a book.

It's the little things that keep me going right now. If only I could find a lady's jelly wrestling happy hour bar that serves Abita, and has plasma tv's big enough and positioned in the right spots so I never miss a word my wife says by looking directly through her to the screen I would be set. If I owned a bar, I would position every t.v. monitor at a specific height level so that you can look somewhat interested in the conversation while never missing a highlight of ESPN.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

I am going to need two professional references for this position?

Making money, making money, making money.

Everyone is obsessed with making money that they forget about living life. Tasting the stark bit of reality that can sometimes be bittersweet. Everyone needs to relax. Take it easy for a while. Do like Europeans and take a month off from work.

I went on a forgettful job interview the other day. It was so bad, I almost walked right out during the damn thing. The company which will I will not name for libel purposes was trying to work some form of the old pyramid scam. It seems that in our present day instead of having Amway we have these stupid ass marketing/sales companies popping up offering ridiculous salaries and visions of happy workplaces.

The first thing I have to say is that when you show up for an interview, and the office your interviewing is a small 2 cublice room without a window, that's a sign of things to come. As I sat waiting for the woman who was to interview me get off the phone, there was a receptionist talking on the phone to a friend. Behind the receptionist was a small portable stereo. Now I know being a receptionist is hard work so we need some music to relax ourselves. This girl was listening to Jayz. It was not at a normal level either, it was at ear screaching decibels. I struggled to even comprehend thoughts while the music was playing. Soon the woman got off the phone and introduced herself. We exchange the normal bullcrap pleasantries. Glad to meet ya... Yada...Yada...Yada. Then the rhetorical questions starting flying.... "How do you fit this position? What are your strengths? Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?" I decided to make this worthwhile. So I politely answered the questions as best as I could and waited for those famous words to come rolling off her tongue. "Do you have any questions for me?" You bet your sweet fanny I do.

My Question: First off, what is the salary? Answer: It depends. Question: On what? Answer: On the job you do.
My Question: Whats the work schedule? Answer: Anything you want it to be, but I feel the more you put in the more you get out.
My Question: What are the benefits? Answer: You don't receive benefits until you make upper level management.
My Question: Why the heck should I work for a company that you can't explain, doesn't have any benefits, has a ridiculous work schedule, and for all I know could be a satanist cult that hires people in order to run this same scam on another person. Answer: This is a great company. I've worked here for 2 years.
My Question: How long did it take to brainwash your monkey ass? Answer: Not long just until the probation period ended.
My Question: Can you just pay me, and I not show up? Answer: Nah, that's not in our company handbook.
Jeez, it should be the damn mission statement.

Well that's all the questions I have for you. She then turns to me with a dedicated look on her face as if she was counting on me to not say no to the next question. "Would you be willing to come in for a day and work with us to see if you like the job and we like you?"

My first thought was "For free? " Then what eeked out was, "Nah, I can't miss out watching the Tyra Banks show. Although let me know when if you change your policy about not showing up for work and getting paid?" She smiles, shakes my hand, and says she will get in contact with me about the position.

It's been a week and she hasn't called back. Starting to wonder if she would ever call. Then again maybe I am working for them and I don't even know it. Crazy damn Amway people.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Beer, Brauts, and Falafels???

Octoberfest in Southern California is like showing up to a movie a half hour early. There is no one around and you start to worry if this is the right movie or not.

In order to secure some fun in our lives. I decided to take the wife and go to an Octoberfest. It was great except for the fact that no one was there. On the website they marketed a great musical act on one of the main stages. The Dirty Dozen Brass Band would be playing a Hurricane Katrina benefit. This would be awesome, I thought.

Amongst all the umpa bands, sauerkraut, and veinerswitzle there stood an empty beer tent submerged in noise from an 80's cover band. I decided to partake in the local habits of Octoberfest and try a few of the German beers. Who knows, maybe by the time the Dirty Dozen takes the stage I will by cussin' and punching everyone in sight dressed in full leiderhozen. We walked around soaked up the dead atmosphere of falafels, burritos, and hot caramel apples outside the beer tent. On one side of the festival there was a reggae soul country band playing, at another tent there was a teenage battle of bands (nothing but guitars screeching and someone screaming into a microphone), on the third stage stood the Bavarian German Beer Band playing the "Chicken Dance" to a capacity crowd of 30 in a tent to hold a thousand, and last but not least in the main tent was the Miss Octoberfest contest.

We made our way over to the main stage to get a view of the Dirty Dozen feeling that it could get packed. The building that harnessed the main stage was huge almost the size of a football field. The accoustics were horrendous. My wife feeling the urge after her second hefiezen decided to make her way to the facilities. I being the good gentleman that I am went to the bar to reload, and wait for her outside the facilities. As I stood there gazing into the empty abyss that was the main stage, I wondered where could everyone be. There was another poor sap boyfriend, husband, date for a night waiting for his lady to come out the john. Suddenly I was taken aback when 10 girls in g-string bikinis come walking out of the restroom with two beer steins each filled to the brim with water. The tried there best to walk up to the stage in high heels with these huge beer steins. The guy next to me stares at them, then glances over to me and says, "Lord almighty, I want to be Mr. Octoberfest!"

After a while my wife comes out of the john, and I proceed to tell her about what had just transpired. I tell her we have to get front row and center to see this contest. We position ourselves a row back from the front of the crowd right before the contest begins. Now the girls have to hold the steins out in front of them as long as they can. Every one of these girls are slim built, except for one. This girl had to be 6 foot 2 and about 125 pounds. She looked like a Norse woman. I screamed out right before the whistle blew, "My money is on Zena, don't let me down Warrior Princess." She didn't. Not only did she destroy the competition, but when the last girl's arms dropped from the heavy weight, she took the steins and poured the water over her body. Nice touch for the judges. After that everyone left. I think there was something like 20 of us standing there waiting for the Dirty Dozen Brass Band to come out. When the took the stage it was surreal. I felt like I was at a Saints game in the 4th Quarter towards the end of a season. We stayed for the entire set. It was good to hear some good old New Orleans music for one night. As we drove home I looked back at my wife, and remarked to her that the Duetchouse would have been better. She smiled and agreed. Although nothing beats the memory of a good time.