Bike Impressions
I have put about 40 miles on my bike since getting it on Sunday. Jacksonville is pretty hilly, so i have only been able to do about 7-10 miles at a time after riding intermittently for a month. When I first brought the bike home it needed a good tuning. The rear dérailleur would skip in the middle of the range, the brakes were off center (though they looked hardly used) and the limits on the front dérailleur were incorrect. In fact, I got the impression that the bike had never gotten its original “out of box” tuning, lending credence to my belief that its former owner hardly rode it. About a half hour of sitting on the floor in my garage and everything runs smoothly. The rear shifting is seamless, quick and accurate, and the brakes stop the bike quickly with little effort. My favorite feature so far is the ability to “quick shift” up to three gears at a time in the rear, something that could be done, de facto, on my old bike by just twisting the shifter more, but this shift is non-sequential and occurs just as quickly as shifting a single gear. The bike weighs in at 24 lbs with pedals, post, saddle and a bag that contains a lighter, presta valve adapter and a multi tool; about average, even slightly on the heavy side when compared to its aluminum cousins, but still about 13 lbs lighter than my other (smaller) bike. The ride is smooth, and I don't regret giving up the front suspension as the combination of a carbon fiber fork and steel frame dampens most vibrations. Aside from being lighter, lower friction and generally easier to pedal I am appreciating the shifting system. On my old bike, going up a hill required choosing a gear and sticking with it, as any significant shifts took long enough that what little momentum I had built up in the drive train would be canceled by the shift. Now I can shift, front or back, up or down, smoothly, while still applying considerable force to the pedals without causing gear skipping, drive shifting of chain popping. It is amazing. One feature I am torn about is the clipless pedal system. The shoes and pedals give a VERY considerable mechanical advantage to the rider, allowing for a more consistent stroke and allow power to be applied to the upstroke as well as the downstroke. The major drawback? The shoes. They are comfortable and all, but they are WORTHLESS for walking, as they have a big piece of plastic attached to the front of the shoe. Anytime I go anywhere I have to take a pair of sandals as well, which isn't a problem, but once I get to where I am going I have nowhere to put the bike shoes. I cant imagine I would actually wear them while commuting to class. Luckily the pedals have enough of a cross section I think I will be able to ride the mile or two to and from school using regular shoes and or sandals.
Some US news
There have been some fairly important political happenings in the United States political arena in the past few months, that my European colleagues may be interested in.
First of all, today the Senate Judiciary committee subpoenaed the office of the president and vice president to turn over documents relating to the administrations domestic wiretapping program. This is the latest in a string of oversight subpoenas that began with an investigation into the firing of 8 US attorneys, but has began to expose possible corruption in the justice department and its dealings with the whitehouse.
Summer time is of course, supreme court decision time and this year has been very interesting so far. There have been several high profile 5-4 decisions, divided along partisan lines, with newly appointed justices Alito and Roberts acting, as expected, as shills for the GOP (pardon the editorializing). So far the court has struck down the McCain-Feingold campaign finance reform act by saying that a pro-life PAC's right to run political ads mentioning candidates by name within a month of an election was a form of protected speech.
The court made it clear however, that free speech was not a universal right, stating that a high school student did not have an unconditional right to engage in non-disruptive speech at a school event, especially if the speech could possibly be construed as promoting drug use. You may remember the “Bong hits for Jesus” kid from about 5 years ago when he displayed a banner with the infamous message across the street from a school event celebrating the Olympic torch marathon. The majority opinion, in my view, was asinine. For a well reasoned, though out view of the case, read the dissenting opinion (pdf) written by Justice Stevens, which not only addresses the specifics of the case:
"the Court does serious violence to the First Amendment in upholding -- indeed, lauding -- a school's decision to punish Frederick for expressing a view with which it disagreed."
but goes beyond it, and outlines what may be the highest criticism of the drug war in its history:
“…the current dominant opinion supporting the war on drugs in general, and our antimarijuana laws in particular, is reminiscent of the opinion that supported the nationwide ban on alcohol consumption when I was a student. While alcoholic beverages are now regarded as ordinary articles of commerce, their use was then condemned with the same moral fervor that now supports the war on drugs. The ensuing change in public opinion occurred much more slowly than the relatively rapid shift in Americans’ views on the Vietnam War, and progressed on a state-by-state basis over a period of many years. But just as prohibition in the 1920’s and early 1930’s was secretly questioned by thousands of otherwise law-abiding patrons of bootleggers and speakeasies, today the actions of literally millions of otherwise law-abiding users of marijuana,9 and of the majority of voters in each of the several States that tolerate medicinal uses of the product,10 lead me to wonder whether the fear of disapproval by those in the majority is silencing opponents of the war on drugs. Surely our national experience with alcohol should make us wary of dampening speech suggesting—however inarticulately—that it would be better to tax and regulate marijuana than to persevere in a futile effort to ban its use entirely.”
Finally, a movie has been released on the internet, showing a police officer abusing a group of teenage skaters that has received much discussion. If this doesn't piss you off, you should pretty much just bend over and let the police state rape you in the ass whenever they want.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Better Than Ezra, Stood up, NEW BIKE!!!!!!
Holy crap, I have alot to write about today. The short of the story is that I spent the weekend in DC with Kristen again, and it was wonderful!
Our adventure starts on Friday afternoon in Timonium, MD. I breeze through work, like usual, and meet Kristen for lunch at her house with some Andy Nelson's pulled pork (the BEST pulled pork ever!). Kristen and I discuss our plans for the evening and the weekend: we are to continue my trend of seeing popular 90's bands a decade after they release hit songs by driving to Power Plant Live to see Better Than Ezra. After the concert is over we are to make our way to College Park Maryland where we have a pretty packed weekend.
Before I go any farther, allow me to share some required background information. The few days leading up to Friday I had been busily scouring Craigslist for a new bicycle. I had expanded my search from just the Baltimore area to include Philly, Harrisburg, DC, and the Eastern Shore. The issue is that road bikes seem to be in very high demand this time of year and my options were fairly limited. However I did find one poster, whose textual skills seemed vaguely Indian to me, that had a brand new, still in box, road bike that he was willing to sell me for $350. I knew next to nothing about the bike other that it was manufactured by Fuji (which is interesting because Fuji is not an OEM) and that it was an aluminium frame with shimano comps. After calling the man, who was in fact Indian, I set up a date for saturday at noon at the Alexandria Metro stop.
Anyway, fast forward to friday once again. Around 7:30 I pick Kristen up and fight friday night traffic into the city. After promising my firstborn child for a parking space, and sharing a piece of cheesecake with her, we arrive at Power Plant Live only to come to a crushing realization: the show is 21 and over only. This would not normally be a problem except only two out of the six people in our posse were over 21. Big problem. It would seem that my first born child would be sold into pierside slavery in vain. Do not fear loyal readers, as I assure you that the night ended with us seeing the expected concert. Without going into detail about the geometry of the courtyard area where the concert was held, just know that there was more than one entrance to the gated off area (which K swears wasn't gated off a year ago). We sneakily entered through a side area that allowed access the the bars while the person that was supposed to be watching the gate was presumeably on a bathroom break. Once inside, those of us who were 21 went back outside and through the real entrance to get wristbands and rejoined our under-21 collegues in front of the stage. Better than Ezra was, like most washed up 90's alt-rock bands, alright. They seemed enthusiastic enough, and the songs that I recognized sounded similar to the way thay I remembered them. However, in what was likely a concession to thier "few hit wonder" status thier set was almost half of covers. The rest of the evening was uneventful, and we made it to College Park by 2am just in time that my bladder didnt explode.
Tony stands me up!
Taking a cue from Jeff, I will abandon attempting to tie my narrative together properly using coherent conclusion and introduction sentances and resort to the cop-out technique of using paragraph headings. Saturday was the day I was supposed to get my new bicycle and the anticipation was killing me! Like I said, I had only talked to the seller once and set up an appointment. After springing from bed earlier than I wanted to we boarded the Metro and began the hour Journey to Alexandria. It was interesting because I had never been out that far on the blue line and got to see DC from the south, as we crossed the potomac. We got to the Van Dorn station and didnt see any Indian men standing around with a large box. We waited, and called the number I was given to no avail. I asked a few people that looked confused if they were here to see someone about a bicycle, each inquiry only promted an even more confused look and a reply of simply "no." After half an hour we decided to retreat back into the metro. I was crushed, and Kristen was upset that I had wasted her precious time on this wild goose chase. We then met her sister for lunch, which brings me to my first restaurant review:
L'Madeline (Alexandria, Va)
I will keep this brief. L'Madeline is a french "bistro" in the style of Panera. They have various sorts of salads, pastries and bread items that you order in almost a cafeteria type system. I got a french "pizza" with onions, ham, bacon, swiss cheese and a glass of Lemonade. The Lemonade was by far the best part of the meal, it tasted fresh and tart. I drank two glasses. The Pizza was very good as well, though it seemed to be pre-made and frozen. The meats and swiss cheese blended together well with the onions and the onion cream soup style sauce. Kristen got a half sandwich half salad meal, the details of which I do not remember. Her sister ate tuna salad? which she seemed to enjoy. For all three of us the meal was $25. I give it 3.5 out of 5 stars.
A Day in DC
After lunch we metro'd it back into the city where we played tourist for a while. We attempted to visit the Museum of Natural History but found it over-run by children (see my last post) and retreated after a brief visit to the Africa and prehistoric mammals exhibits. We made our way to through the castle and hung out in the garden directly behind it for a while after reading a sign that claimed the unique nature of the garden resulted in a milder climate than the surrounding areas. Continuing our tour we walked up and touched the Washington Monument, something we both had curiously never done before and eventually made our way over the the World War 2 memorial and reflecting pool. I am begining to realize how grogeous of a city Washington DC really is. The World War 2 memorial is relatively new and is a beautiful mixture of granite and fountains, where people could be found dipping thier feet in to cool off. Furthermore, the entire mall area is rife with early colonial architecture that is well preserved and laid out in a very pedestrian friendly setting. Moving on from the mall over the white house (where they now have armed gaurds with large guns sitting on the roof) many of the buildings look more modern, but there still seems to be a focus on preservation of landmarks and an attempt to keep the city pedestrian friendly. At this point it was dinner time and we walked about 15 blocks to China Town where we engaged in non-chinese feeding.
Matchbox (Washington DC)
The Matchbox restaurant is your classic, chique urbanite pizza bistro oddly located right on the fringe of Chinatown. Kristen and I have a habit of patronizing restaurants that we cannot afford and eating as cheeply as possible; the Matchbox was no exception. Entree's range from $15 to well over $30 for a steak dinner. Fortunately for me, neither of us were in the mood for steak. What this place is famous for is it's 3-6-9 burgers (sliders to the rest of us), and that is exactly what we ordered. We ordered a plate of 6 mini-burgers, which was served with a side of delicious onion crisps topped with parmesean cheese. We also got an order of "mozzi carrozzi" which was breaded...errr..bread fried and stuffed with fresh mozzerella, tomatoes and basil served with a zesty marinara sauce. The burgers were delicious; juicy Angus beef sandwitched between a fresh mini bun served with your choice of cheese (we got gorgonzola). The mozzi carrozzi was good as well, as it reminded us both of a large mozzerela stick. The beer menu was top notch as well (if not over-priced) with a good variety of micro-brew and classic american selection. I got a Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA which complimented my meal very well.
I give the matchbox 4 out of 5 stars.
My new bike
We didn't get home until around 9pm and I emailed the guy that stood me up earlier in the day. While looking on craigslist for his address I noticed a new listing for a bike that was a better deal. I emailed the guy, and got a response almost immediatly: he informed me that there were several people interested and that I should call him at 11:30am tommorow to see if it was still available. Long story short: the person that was supposed to get the bike Sunday morning never showed, and I got called and informed that I should come to dude-man's house in Frederick. One hour and $400 later I was the proud owner of a like-new bicycle. For those interested the frame is by a company called Mercier, which is a direct marketing company (similar to Ibex) that sells over the internet. These companies tend to use the same OEM frames as Trek, Fuji, and Specialized and brand them for thier own use. the bike came equipped with full Shimano 105 comps, Alexrims (lol!) DA-22's, an Ourza comp carbon fiber fork and Look clipless pedals (dude-man wears the same size shoe as me, so he threw them in as well). The 56cm frame is steel, though the bike is only slightly heavier than the aluminium frames I have felt recently. The bike looks like it has been barely ridden, with no obvious scratches anywhere, a well greased chain and shiny, like-new comps. New, a 105 equipped bike would be approaching $1000, so I am happy.
sorry i wrote so much, but that is all for now. LATER!
note: this, kids, is why we proofread our work before publishing it. Ignore the obvious voice errors and typos as i do not feel like correcting them. I wrote this at work in several sittings.
Our adventure starts on Friday afternoon in Timonium, MD. I breeze through work, like usual, and meet Kristen for lunch at her house with some Andy Nelson's pulled pork (the BEST pulled pork ever!). Kristen and I discuss our plans for the evening and the weekend: we are to continue my trend of seeing popular 90's bands a decade after they release hit songs by driving to Power Plant Live to see Better Than Ezra. After the concert is over we are to make our way to College Park Maryland where we have a pretty packed weekend.
Before I go any farther, allow me to share some required background information. The few days leading up to Friday I had been busily scouring Craigslist for a new bicycle. I had expanded my search from just the Baltimore area to include Philly, Harrisburg, DC, and the Eastern Shore. The issue is that road bikes seem to be in very high demand this time of year and my options were fairly limited. However I did find one poster, whose textual skills seemed vaguely Indian to me, that had a brand new, still in box, road bike that he was willing to sell me for $350. I knew next to nothing about the bike other that it was manufactured by Fuji (which is interesting because Fuji is not an OEM) and that it was an aluminium frame with shimano comps. After calling the man, who was in fact Indian, I set up a date for saturday at noon at the Alexandria Metro stop.
Anyway, fast forward to friday once again. Around 7:30 I pick Kristen up and fight friday night traffic into the city. After promising my firstborn child for a parking space, and sharing a piece of cheesecake with her, we arrive at Power Plant Live only to come to a crushing realization: the show is 21 and over only. This would not normally be a problem except only two out of the six people in our posse were over 21. Big problem. It would seem that my first born child would be sold into pierside slavery in vain. Do not fear loyal readers, as I assure you that the night ended with us seeing the expected concert. Without going into detail about the geometry of the courtyard area where the concert was held, just know that there was more than one entrance to the gated off area (which K swears wasn't gated off a year ago). We sneakily entered through a side area that allowed access the the bars while the person that was supposed to be watching the gate was presumeably on a bathroom break. Once inside, those of us who were 21 went back outside and through the real entrance to get wristbands and rejoined our under-21 collegues in front of the stage. Better than Ezra was, like most washed up 90's alt-rock bands, alright. They seemed enthusiastic enough, and the songs that I recognized sounded similar to the way thay I remembered them. However, in what was likely a concession to thier "few hit wonder" status thier set was almost half of covers. The rest of the evening was uneventful, and we made it to College Park by 2am just in time that my bladder didnt explode.
Tony stands me up!
Taking a cue from Jeff, I will abandon attempting to tie my narrative together properly using coherent conclusion and introduction sentances and resort to the cop-out technique of using paragraph headings. Saturday was the day I was supposed to get my new bicycle and the anticipation was killing me! Like I said, I had only talked to the seller once and set up an appointment. After springing from bed earlier than I wanted to we boarded the Metro and began the hour Journey to Alexandria. It was interesting because I had never been out that far on the blue line and got to see DC from the south, as we crossed the potomac. We got to the Van Dorn station and didnt see any Indian men standing around with a large box. We waited, and called the number I was given to no avail. I asked a few people that looked confused if they were here to see someone about a bicycle, each inquiry only promted an even more confused look and a reply of simply "no." After half an hour we decided to retreat back into the metro. I was crushed, and Kristen was upset that I had wasted her precious time on this wild goose chase. We then met her sister for lunch, which brings me to my first restaurant review:
L'Madeline (Alexandria, Va)
I will keep this brief. L'Madeline is a french "bistro" in the style of Panera. They have various sorts of salads, pastries and bread items that you order in almost a cafeteria type system. I got a french "pizza" with onions, ham, bacon, swiss cheese and a glass of Lemonade. The Lemonade was by far the best part of the meal, it tasted fresh and tart. I drank two glasses. The Pizza was very good as well, though it seemed to be pre-made and frozen. The meats and swiss cheese blended together well with the onions and the onion cream soup style sauce. Kristen got a half sandwich half salad meal, the details of which I do not remember. Her sister ate tuna salad? which she seemed to enjoy. For all three of us the meal was $25. I give it 3.5 out of 5 stars.
A Day in DC
After lunch we metro'd it back into the city where we played tourist for a while. We attempted to visit the Museum of Natural History but found it over-run by children (see my last post) and retreated after a brief visit to the Africa and prehistoric mammals exhibits. We made our way to through the castle and hung out in the garden directly behind it for a while after reading a sign that claimed the unique nature of the garden resulted in a milder climate than the surrounding areas. Continuing our tour we walked up and touched the Washington Monument, something we both had curiously never done before and eventually made our way over the the World War 2 memorial and reflecting pool. I am begining to realize how grogeous of a city Washington DC really is. The World War 2 memorial is relatively new and is a beautiful mixture of granite and fountains, where people could be found dipping thier feet in to cool off. Furthermore, the entire mall area is rife with early colonial architecture that is well preserved and laid out in a very pedestrian friendly setting. Moving on from the mall over the white house (where they now have armed gaurds with large guns sitting on the roof) many of the buildings look more modern, but there still seems to be a focus on preservation of landmarks and an attempt to keep the city pedestrian friendly. At this point it was dinner time and we walked about 15 blocks to China Town where we engaged in non-chinese feeding.
Matchbox (Washington DC)
The Matchbox restaurant is your classic, chique urbanite pizza bistro oddly located right on the fringe of Chinatown. Kristen and I have a habit of patronizing restaurants that we cannot afford and eating as cheeply as possible; the Matchbox was no exception. Entree's range from $15 to well over $30 for a steak dinner. Fortunately for me, neither of us were in the mood for steak. What this place is famous for is it's 3-6-9 burgers (sliders to the rest of us), and that is exactly what we ordered. We ordered a plate of 6 mini-burgers, which was served with a side of delicious onion crisps topped with parmesean cheese. We also got an order of "mozzi carrozzi" which was breaded...errr..bread fried and stuffed with fresh mozzerella, tomatoes and basil served with a zesty marinara sauce. The burgers were delicious; juicy Angus beef sandwitched between a fresh mini bun served with your choice of cheese (we got gorgonzola). The mozzi carrozzi was good as well, as it reminded us both of a large mozzerela stick. The beer menu was top notch as well (if not over-priced) with a good variety of micro-brew and classic american selection. I got a Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA which complimented my meal very well.
I give the matchbox 4 out of 5 stars.
My new bike
We didn't get home until around 9pm and I emailed the guy that stood me up earlier in the day. While looking on craigslist for his address I noticed a new listing for a bike that was a better deal. I emailed the guy, and got a response almost immediatly: he informed me that there were several people interested and that I should call him at 11:30am tommorow to see if it was still available. Long story short: the person that was supposed to get the bike Sunday morning never showed, and I got called and informed that I should come to dude-man's house in Frederick. One hour and $400 later I was the proud owner of a like-new bicycle. For those interested the frame is by a company called Mercier, which is a direct marketing company (similar to Ibex) that sells over the internet. These companies tend to use the same OEM frames as Trek, Fuji, and Specialized and brand them for thier own use. the bike came equipped with full Shimano 105 comps, Alexrims (lol!) DA-22's, an Ourza comp carbon fiber fork and Look clipless pedals (dude-man wears the same size shoe as me, so he threw them in as well). The 56cm frame is steel, though the bike is only slightly heavier than the aluminium frames I have felt recently. The bike looks like it has been barely ridden, with no obvious scratches anywhere, a well greased chain and shiny, like-new comps. New, a 105 equipped bike would be approaching $1000, so I am happy.
sorry i wrote so much, but that is all for now. LATER!
note: this, kids, is why we proofread our work before publishing it. Ignore the obvious voice errors and typos as i do not feel like correcting them. I wrote this at work in several sittings.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Hershy PA: a cross section of American Culture
Greetings one and all.
Anyone who has lived more that 15 minutes in the mid-atlantic region of the United States has visited Hershey Park. This chocolate paradise is nestled in the middle of what used to be rural Pennsylvania and is home to the original Hershey chocolate factory (one can only assume the manufacturing operations were outsourced to china decades ago). For those of you who may or may not be from the midwest (tangent: Open Office feels that “atlantic” and “midwest” should be capitalized: agree or disagree?) Hershey park is a theme park, which more or less means that you pay $50 to get in, wait in lines for 9 hours, and then spend an additional $30 on food and $30 on random crap that breaks the minute you leave the park. Cynicism aside, I actually love theme parks, and Hershey is no exception. This trip was especially nice because I didn't have to pay for admission or lunch due to some large corporation footing the bill for me and my posse that day.
Out of all the theme parks I have visited, Hershey is particularly interesting. During the great depression the town was one of the few places a factory worker could live and make a decent living, with access to public pools, quality education, nice housing and of course, all the chocolate one could want. All of this was possible because of the great philanthropist: Milton S. Hershey. The theme park came later in what I can only assume was yet another philanthropic attempt to stimulate to local economy and add jobs to the area. However, Hershey today is much more than a home to several roller coasters and a water park, it is a sociological dream. Anyone visiting the United States for the first time that wants to gain a brief, yet comprehensive immersion into our great (stagnant) society should look no further than this wonderful park. From the mullet sporting redneck to the confused Asian family trying to enter the park an hour before it closes, this place has it all. Whats more, it seems that in no other place will the classes so willingly mingle. It is truly a gorgeous thing to see a military family (I could tell because they were all wearing the same “navy” t-shit) sharing the same line with individuals of middle-eastern descent; or to see a confederate flag bandanna donned on top of a man who graciously allowed a stereotypical loud African American teenager to cut in line so that he could ride with his family. It truly brought a tear to my eye. Of course, being in PA (see: the new New Jersey) the demographic DOES tend to skew somewhat towards the “redneck white trash” (for lack of a better term) side of the spectrum. But knowing this, one can easily normalize the population when making observations. This observation about the local color projecting itself onto any sort of overall population image is apparent more in one “park rule” than it is anywhere else: the swimsuit policy.
Actually the swimsuit policy has nothing to do with rednecks, I just didn't have a good transition for this part of the story . Hershey park has a new rule concerning where you may and may not wear a bathing suit in the park. You MAY wear a bathing suit in the water park, you MAY not wear a bathing suit anywhere else. Sure, this seems to make sense when you read it at first, but imagine leaving a water park on a hot day. You will want to walk around for a bit before once again donning your street regalia, lest you dampen your “non-bathing suit” clothing. Instead of being able to enjoy the sun, large signs rudely inform you that you are entering a “non-bathing suit area” and that you must reapply shirts and shorts or be shot. Of course, anyone who has met me can probably tell where I am going with this. Upon seeing the signs I immediately deemed the rule arbitrary and without merit and proceeded to walk around the swim suit-restricted areas sans shirt. After about 20 minutes of walking and tanning I was verbally accosted by a security guard whose dental status reminded me of your average Blacksburg “towney.” The guard informed me that I must put on a shirt or I would be removed from the park. Without any options, I began the process of removing the shirt from my bag, but I was not going down without a fight. I inquired about the purpose of the rule, and was informed that it was to maintain a “family friendly atmosphere” in the park, to which I replied, very proud of myself that she responded exactly as I thought she would, “so I guess the water park is not family friendly then?” Visibly annoyed at my impudence she informed me that the water park was in fact, family friendly, which allowed me to point out, that by extension an entire park full of bathing suit wearing individuals must also be family friendly. At this point she resorted to the “I am just a pawn in the rich mans game” fallacy and informed me that she didn't make the rules, just enforced them. With a polite smile, I pretended that I was happy with that response and walked away, shirt on.
The rest of the day was fine and conflict free. During the peak hours however (I was there from open until close) the park became almost intolerably infested with children, and the families of children. This only reminded me why I will never waste a second of my life on these little sexually transmitted diseases. The little assholes were running around recklessly, with parents chasing three feet behind, yelling futiley to “stop or else.” Everyone who was not running after a three year old was visibly annoyed at the fact that it was impossible to walk without nearly stepping on children, running into children or hearing the high pitched whining of children. They had even taken over the bathrooms. It took me all day to find a bathroom that was not swarming with under developed humans so that I could poop in peace. I suppose that is the price I pay for going to a “family friendly” amusement park, but I just couldn't help but think, as I looked out at the masses of families, how much of a nicer place it would be if they didn't allow anyone under the age of 14 in.
Aside from the children and swimsuit policy enforcement, I had a great time with Kristen and some of her friends.
I would like to end by commenting on the fact that Frank is a complete asshole. In 18 or 19 years of being my friend I have not once been able to convince him to get high with me. You see, he is a pillow biting Nancy and refuses to smoke anything...even pot...not even once, ignoring the fact that numerous studies have shown that there is little risk of contracting lung cancer or many of the other deadly respiratory illnesses associated with tobacco*. Yet he has no qualms about drinking to the point of passing out several nights a week. Of course, his lungs will be pristine when he goes in to have his liver replaced, which is obviously very important. Anyway, this week frank was in Amsterdam and visited a coffee shop where he engaged in the eating of the brownies for the first time without me. Well frank, I hope you are happy, we are no longer friends. Good day sir!
*
http://www.webmd.com/news/20000508/marijuana-unlikely-to-cause-cancer
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/05/25/AR2006052501729_pf.html
http://www.boston.com/news/nation/articles/2006/05/24/marijuana_cancer_risk_played_down/
no linky goodness for you.
Anyone who has lived more that 15 minutes in the mid-atlantic region of the United States has visited Hershey Park. This chocolate paradise is nestled in the middle of what used to be rural Pennsylvania and is home to the original Hershey chocolate factory (one can only assume the manufacturing operations were outsourced to china decades ago). For those of you who may or may not be from the midwest (tangent: Open Office feels that “atlantic” and “midwest” should be capitalized: agree or disagree?) Hershey park is a theme park, which more or less means that you pay $50 to get in, wait in lines for 9 hours, and then spend an additional $30 on food and $30 on random crap that breaks the minute you leave the park. Cynicism aside, I actually love theme parks, and Hershey is no exception. This trip was especially nice because I didn't have to pay for admission or lunch due to some large corporation footing the bill for me and my posse that day.
Out of all the theme parks I have visited, Hershey is particularly interesting. During the great depression the town was one of the few places a factory worker could live and make a decent living, with access to public pools, quality education, nice housing and of course, all the chocolate one could want. All of this was possible because of the great philanthropist: Milton S. Hershey. The theme park came later in what I can only assume was yet another philanthropic attempt to stimulate to local economy and add jobs to the area. However, Hershey today is much more than a home to several roller coasters and a water park, it is a sociological dream. Anyone visiting the United States for the first time that wants to gain a brief, yet comprehensive immersion into our great (stagnant) society should look no further than this wonderful park. From the mullet sporting redneck to the confused Asian family trying to enter the park an hour before it closes, this place has it all. Whats more, it seems that in no other place will the classes so willingly mingle. It is truly a gorgeous thing to see a military family (I could tell because they were all wearing the same “navy” t-shit) sharing the same line with individuals of middle-eastern descent; or to see a confederate flag bandanna donned on top of a man who graciously allowed a stereotypical loud African American teenager to cut in line so that he could ride with his family. It truly brought a tear to my eye. Of course, being in PA (see: the new New Jersey) the demographic DOES tend to skew somewhat towards the “redneck white trash” (for lack of a better term) side of the spectrum. But knowing this, one can easily normalize the population when making observations. This observation about the local color projecting itself onto any sort of overall population image is apparent more in one “park rule” than it is anywhere else: the swimsuit policy.
Actually the swimsuit policy has nothing to do with rednecks, I just didn't have a good transition for this part of the story . Hershey park has a new rule concerning where you may and may not wear a bathing suit in the park. You MAY wear a bathing suit in the water park, you MAY not wear a bathing suit anywhere else. Sure, this seems to make sense when you read it at first, but imagine leaving a water park on a hot day. You will want to walk around for a bit before once again donning your street regalia, lest you dampen your “non-bathing suit” clothing. Instead of being able to enjoy the sun, large signs rudely inform you that you are entering a “non-bathing suit area” and that you must reapply shirts and shorts or be shot. Of course, anyone who has met me can probably tell where I am going with this. Upon seeing the signs I immediately deemed the rule arbitrary and without merit and proceeded to walk around the swim suit-restricted areas sans shirt. After about 20 minutes of walking and tanning I was verbally accosted by a security guard whose dental status reminded me of your average Blacksburg “towney.” The guard informed me that I must put on a shirt or I would be removed from the park. Without any options, I began the process of removing the shirt from my bag, but I was not going down without a fight. I inquired about the purpose of the rule, and was informed that it was to maintain a “family friendly atmosphere” in the park, to which I replied, very proud of myself that she responded exactly as I thought she would, “so I guess the water park is not family friendly then?” Visibly annoyed at my impudence she informed me that the water park was in fact, family friendly, which allowed me to point out, that by extension an entire park full of bathing suit wearing individuals must also be family friendly. At this point she resorted to the “I am just a pawn in the rich mans game” fallacy and informed me that she didn't make the rules, just enforced them. With a polite smile, I pretended that I was happy with that response and walked away, shirt on.
The rest of the day was fine and conflict free. During the peak hours however (I was there from open until close) the park became almost intolerably infested with children, and the families of children. This only reminded me why I will never waste a second of my life on these little sexually transmitted diseases. The little assholes were running around recklessly, with parents chasing three feet behind, yelling futiley to “stop or else.” Everyone who was not running after a three year old was visibly annoyed at the fact that it was impossible to walk without nearly stepping on children, running into children or hearing the high pitched whining of children. They had even taken over the bathrooms. It took me all day to find a bathroom that was not swarming with under developed humans so that I could poop in peace. I suppose that is the price I pay for going to a “family friendly” amusement park, but I just couldn't help but think, as I looked out at the masses of families, how much of a nicer place it would be if they didn't allow anyone under the age of 14 in.
Aside from the children and swimsuit policy enforcement, I had a great time with Kristen and some of her friends.
I would like to end by commenting on the fact that Frank is a complete asshole. In 18 or 19 years of being my friend I have not once been able to convince him to get high with me. You see, he is a pillow biting Nancy and refuses to smoke anything...even pot...not even once, ignoring the fact that numerous studies have shown that there is little risk of contracting lung cancer or many of the other deadly respiratory illnesses associated with tobacco*. Yet he has no qualms about drinking to the point of passing out several nights a week. Of course, his lungs will be pristine when he goes in to have his liver replaced, which is obviously very important. Anyway, this week frank was in Amsterdam and visited a coffee shop where he engaged in the eating of the brownies for the first time without me. Well frank, I hope you are happy, we are no longer friends. Good day sir!
*
http://www.webmd.com/news/20000508/marijuana-unlikely-to-cause-cancer
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/05/25/AR2006052501729_pf.html
http://www.boston.com/news/nation/articles/2006/05/24/marijuana_cancer_risk_played_down/
no linky goodness for you.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Now that i have a blog, the terrorists have won.
Karl Rove once said to me "son, if you ever make it all the way to Alaska, make sure you say hi to Carl Kasel for me." I don't really know why he would say something like that to me, Carl Kasel doesn't even live in Alaska as far as i know; and even if he did, its a big fucking state and i would have no idea where to find him.
Either way, welcome to all three of you who will eventually find thier way over here, there is punch in the living room and burgers out back on the porch. I would appreciate it if you would wipe your feet on the doormat, it is muddy outside and we just had the carpet cleaned. Don't mind the dog, she won't attack unless you provoke her. Or if you are holding certain types of cheese.
Allow me to begin at the beginning. My asshole friends left me this summer to travel the world on thier parents pocket books. Actually, perhaps that isn't being fair to them, as i am fairly sure they are paying thier own respective ways; but the fact remains that they are all assholes. While they are off galavanting around the globe I am stuck here in the United States if America, a country I am growing increasingly impatient with, working 40 hours a week at a job I have all but stopped caring about. I am left here to fend for myself with my family, my girlfriend, and...well...the rest of my friends who DIDNT leave me for the beckoning of green pastures abroad.
In writing this blog i hope to accomplish a number of things: first of all to chronicle my adventures (as boring and un-european as they may be). My second purpose will be to act as a foil to my good friends Jeff, Frank and Greg's blogs. You see, Emily made a wonderful suggestion that I create my own blog, where I can make fun of whoever I want, using whatever language I want. So expect a large amount of editorializing on the above linked blogs, as I attempt to live out my friend's adventures vicariously. The last thing I hope to accomplish is to compile a list of food reviews embedded within my entries. Already, Kristen and I have explored the inner working of the DC food scene, and hope to continue. Since I feel the need to expose as many people as possible to my opinions, I figure I might as well write about food here.
So lets begin shall we?
Right now I am at work. I am sitting on a computer in a Microwave testing laboratory where RF communications equipment is brought to be tested and troubleshot. This is my third year at the same internship, and at this point I essentially operate independantly; trying to do as little work as possible to accumulate 8 hours worth of time charges per day.
So far this summer I have not done anything all that interesting. I have chilled in DC, chilled in Baltimore, chilled in Parkville, Towson and Phoenix. I have ridden my bicycle around the county to nowhere in particular and spent WAY too much money seeing crappy movies. Thats about it. I have plans to go camping a few times, and to at least one concert, which i will surely write about later. But for now boredom has sunk its ugly claws into my neck and refuses to let go.
Now, I will take a moment to write about Jeff. Since I can do as much of that as I want.
Jeff is an asshole fascist nazi loving scumbag. He enjoys strangling kittens and drowning puppies in his spare time. In fact, i once saw him go to the pet store, buy 100 puppies, walk 50 miles to an acid manufacturing plant, and then drop the puppies in one by one, masterbating constantly as he carried out his evil plot. He really is one sick fuck. Jeff hates america and loves terrorists. In fact, as we speak he is in Afganistan training terrorists in the ways of the computer engineer. Why do you hate America so much Jeff? WHy do you hate the country that would happily watch you die of a treatable illness, just because you happen to be poor? Unfortunatly Jeff is not poor. He has billions of dollars which he uses to make other people feel bad. Want that new toy truck? Jeff will happily buy every single one in a 100 mile radius and burn them with 100 puppies while he masterbates onto your ham sandwich and tells you it is mayo. Here is a tip: if you ever see this asshole on the streets you should punch him in the face.
Have a nice day everyone :)
Either way, welcome to all three of you who will eventually find thier way over here, there is punch in the living room and burgers out back on the porch. I would appreciate it if you would wipe your feet on the doormat, it is muddy outside and we just had the carpet cleaned. Don't mind the dog, she won't attack unless you provoke her. Or if you are holding certain types of cheese.
Allow me to begin at the beginning. My asshole friends left me this summer to travel the world on thier parents pocket books. Actually, perhaps that isn't being fair to them, as i am fairly sure they are paying thier own respective ways; but the fact remains that they are all assholes. While they are off galavanting around the globe I am stuck here in the United States if America, a country I am growing increasingly impatient with, working 40 hours a week at a job I have all but stopped caring about. I am left here to fend for myself with my family, my girlfriend, and...well...the rest of my friends who DIDNT leave me for the beckoning of green pastures abroad.
In writing this blog i hope to accomplish a number of things: first of all to chronicle my adventures (as boring and un-european as they may be). My second purpose will be to act as a foil to my good friends Jeff, Frank and Greg's blogs. You see, Emily made a wonderful suggestion that I create my own blog, where I can make fun of whoever I want, using whatever language I want. So expect a large amount of editorializing on the above linked blogs, as I attempt to live out my friend's adventures vicariously. The last thing I hope to accomplish is to compile a list of food reviews embedded within my entries. Already, Kristen and I have explored the inner working of the DC food scene, and hope to continue. Since I feel the need to expose as many people as possible to my opinions, I figure I might as well write about food here.
So lets begin shall we?
Right now I am at work. I am sitting on a computer in a Microwave testing laboratory where RF communications equipment is brought to be tested and troubleshot. This is my third year at the same internship, and at this point I essentially operate independantly; trying to do as little work as possible to accumulate 8 hours worth of time charges per day.
So far this summer I have not done anything all that interesting. I have chilled in DC, chilled in Baltimore, chilled in Parkville, Towson and Phoenix. I have ridden my bicycle around the county to nowhere in particular and spent WAY too much money seeing crappy movies. Thats about it. I have plans to go camping a few times, and to at least one concert, which i will surely write about later. But for now boredom has sunk its ugly claws into my neck and refuses to let go.
Now, I will take a moment to write about Jeff. Since I can do as much of that as I want.
Jeff is an asshole fascist nazi loving scumbag. He enjoys strangling kittens and drowning puppies in his spare time. In fact, i once saw him go to the pet store, buy 100 puppies, walk 50 miles to an acid manufacturing plant, and then drop the puppies in one by one, masterbating constantly as he carried out his evil plot. He really is one sick fuck. Jeff hates america and loves terrorists. In fact, as we speak he is in Afganistan training terrorists in the ways of the computer engineer. Why do you hate America so much Jeff? WHy do you hate the country that would happily watch you die of a treatable illness, just because you happen to be poor? Unfortunatly Jeff is not poor. He has billions of dollars which he uses to make other people feel bad. Want that new toy truck? Jeff will happily buy every single one in a 100 mile radius and burn them with 100 puppies while he masterbates onto your ham sandwich and tells you it is mayo. Here is a tip: if you ever see this asshole on the streets you should punch him in the face.
Have a nice day everyone :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)