Pigeon Proof

I pigeon proofed my apartment this afternoon. It didn't take long. I just had to close my windows.

Ruminations

Ever since high school my skinny thighs have been overshadowed by my larger torso. My attempts to become more proportionate have included leg lifts, running, paddle boat rides, and a five-minute roller blade adventure.

In order to rectify this problem of proportionality I've decided to have stomachs implanted in each thigh. If the surgery is successful, then I will be able to disrobe after a big dinner and present a bulging upper stomach and massive thighs.

Move

I thought about picking up and heading west a few months ago - staying in Manhattan, of course, but moving from 1st Ave. to 2nd Ave. The decision to move or stay was a difficult one.

The push to move was related to my erratic behavior. Over the past two years I've managed to cycle through a number of local restaurants. My life has been like Morgan Spurlock's series "30 Days" with a twist. Spurlock immerses himself in a community or a job for 30 days. I, on the other hand, visit the same restaurant for a 30 day period, build up a rapport with the staff, exchange names and stories, and try different dishes. I get to know the prices of each day's special and the schedule of each worker. By day 10 I start to smell like my favorite dishes. Around day 20 the restaurant begins to stock more of the items that I prefer. At day 30 I stop going to the restaurant, stop looking into its window, and stop walking down its street. I've done this to so many restaurants that it's now hard to find a street in my neighborhood to walk down.

The pull to stay in my apartment also has to do with my erratic behavior. I have accumulated large quantities of smoked herring, toilet paper, and sponges since I moved to NYC, and I'm not sure these items will fit into a smaller apartment. I should explain. This past year I had a crush on a cashier at a local grocery store. Each time I went to the store I bought items, so I could talk to her. Because the store has a limited selection, I ended up purchasing the same items each time--smoked herring, toilet paper, and sponges. The crush disappeared, but I can still see the cans of smoked herring-- I can't close my kitchen cabinet, because of all the items that I've purchased at the grocery store.

I'm not going to move, but I need to buy a metro pass so I can find new restaurants. I need to stop going to the poorly stocked grocery store, rethink the way I interact with women I have crushes on, and reduce the number of staple items in my apartment to more normal levels- at least so I can close my kitchen cabinet. As a way to reduce the "staples" to a more manageable number I'm thinking about throwing a theme party that incorporates smoked herring, toilet paper, and sponges. I know it depends on the theme but would anyone like an invite?

Comfort Foods

Comfort foods over time:
age 5 to 18- white toast, sometimes buttered and sometimes not
19 to 24- baked beans and grilled cheese
25 to 28- taco salad with an entire can of refried beans, sour cream, a few lettuce leaves, cheese, and salsa
29 to 31- miso soup, green tea, and sometimes ice cream
32 to today - whatever has the most antioxidants

On the Air Drum...

A man in his late 30's air drummed to C & C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)" at the gym today. He made perfect time to the song that played through the mounted speakers. He remembered back to the night he danced the sweaty dance to the C & C song at a downtown club in 1990. "Gonna Make You Sweat" reminded the air drummer of Tone Loc's "Funky Cold Medina", another song that he danced to that night. Two days after he danced to Loc's song he added "1990: Participated in the hip-hop movement" to the "Qualifications" section on his resume. I assume that he wanted a job at Rolling Stone.

Aside: I have no problem with a public air drum. My problem is that C & C's producers had someone program the drumming sequence, so in order to be true to the song, the man at the gym should have been pounding imaginary keys, not imaginary drum skin. I should have said something.

Cherry Tree and The Communion

When George Washington was about 6 years old he chopped down his father's favorite cherry tree. When confronted by his father George admitted to the act. George's father was so upset that he knocked out George's teeth and had the local dentist make wooden teeth out of the dead cherry tree for George.

What's the moral of the story? Not sure.

I took communion when I was six. I was with older friends. They were regular church goers. It was my first time. I knew that I wasn't supposed to go with them when they joined the communion line, but I was curious. The priest was curious too, but he gave me the wafer when I told him that I had taken communion before.

My parents confronted me the next day outside our trailer. They wanted to know if I had taken communion. I said no but then started crying. My parents told me that a girl from the neighborhood had told them what had happened. That girl was a snitch. A snitch who I had given a mud pack facial to (via a long wind-up pitch) earlier that morning. Once I knew that my parents knew about the communion I was forced to admit the truth. They asked me if I had lied to the priest and I replied that yes I had. My parents told me that I shouldn't lie to people. They offered to go to church with me if I was interested in religion. I wasn't interested in religion and neither were they, so everyone expressed quiet relief when I said that I wouldn't be attending services again.

What's the moral of the story? Don't throw mud at someone who knows where you live.

Kitty Litter and the Baloney Kid

I'm usually unhappy when someone with an open bag of kitty litter sits down next to me on the subway, but today was different. It wasn't that I was attracted to the woman who was carrying the bag. Open kitty litter bags, SUVs, and recent charges of human rights abuse are relationship non-starters. Was it that her kitty litter smelled sweet? No, the bag smelled like kitty litter. I was not unhappy with my new seatmate because her kitty litter bag was covering up the smell of baloney on my hands. I had lunched on baloney sandwiches a few hours before and the smell of baloney still lingered on my hands.

I'm a relapsed baloney luncher. I stopped eating baloney a few decades ago but now am back on the baloney bandwagon. I don't remember being aware of baloney's after effects in my youth. Maybe as an adult I'm more aware of how I smell (other examples of me acting like an adult: sometimes takes out garbage after making a big dinner, cleans toilet every week- whether it needs or not, holds on to socks that need darning, no longer looks at religious people as if they were possessed). Or maybe it's because my sense of smell has become more acute now that I have diminished hearing due to ipod overuse.

Bird on Third

The baseball diamond was being resurfaced, so the varsity baseball team held practice on the freshly mowed football field. Its uneven terrain and the day's baseball colored sky made the sport even more difficult for the talent challenged team.

After talking to his first basemen, the head coach looked towards third base to discover that his favorite player was pretending to be a nested bird who had just laid an egg. The player had encircled himself in lawn clippings and was sitting atop third base. Coach put his hands on his hips and dropped his head. I'm not sure if he smiled. Maybe he smiled after he told me, his bird on third, to start running.

I didn't complain about the extra running. Sometimes silliness has a cost. This time it cost my teammates, too. We were to run to one of the goalposts and then back to home plate. The first person to make it to home plate would not have to do push ups. Coach yelled go. I started into a strategic pre-lead trot, enabling my competitors to gain a lead and a false sense of victory. The goal is to stage a dramatic comeback and take the lead right before the finish line. There are critics of this strategy. For example, coach thought I should start running faster, so he re-barked his orders.

2008 Prediction - Technology

2008 Technology Prediction: More cases of melanoma will be identified as high definition television becomes more popular.

2nd Attempt: Dermatologists are able to drum up business while they watch shows on HDTV because the clear picture enables them to spot cases of melanoma and text television personalities with diagnoses.

Tattoo Cool

My mom called me early this morning. I thought she was calling about last night's election results, so I started talking about the Clinton comeback. After a while she said that her father had died.
My grandfather was a bit ornery in his later years. He repeated rightwing slogans and he stopped talking to some people, like my mom and her brothers. But he called my mom on her birthday last month and they talked about family and the weather.

It was common for him to disappear as a disappointment then reappear as the person you were looking for.

A few weeks ago my mom was telling me about the time when we were in Mexico with Grandpa. I was about six at the time. Grandpa tried on a leather jacket at a store and became upset because it didn't fit over his bulging stomach. We quickly left Mexico, he dropped us off in Tucson, and 21 hours later he was back in Wisconsin, having drove straight through. If anyone has ever seen me have a panic attack inside a grocery store or outside a grocery store, for that matter, then you might better understand my behavior.

Tonight some of the reasons why I loved my grandfather reappear. He would make me laugh. He would hand me paperback books right after he finished them. He was tattoo cool with an anchor on his left arm, a lit cigarette between two fingers, and a stomach that stuck out of every jacket I saw him wear.

Wikt

wicked [wikt]
1. first step towards enlightenment: he was wicked by the idea of multi-flavored gum.
[Origin: 2008Feb, see wick, candle, candlewick.]

The world makes me nervous

I'm afraid that time is circular. I recently bought a collection of NYT crossword puzzles from the early 2000s. I'm disappointed with the purchase because I'm now doing crosswords that I've done before and struggling with them like I did the first time around.

But the non-linear world makes me nervous. What if I pick up my laundry then go straight to the gym instead of dropping it off at home? How am I going to explain my bag full of clean laundry to the people at the gym? Will they accuse me of stealing towels from the gym? Will they ask to borrow a pair of socks? Or what if I go in reverse through time and end up in college again? I don't want to have baked beans with every meal again.

Where is my trajectory? Where are the days when I would stare at expiration dates on food products and imagine the great things I would be doing on that approaching day?

(My milk expired today, so I'm in a contemplative mood.)

2008 Prediction

It's February and I have a much better feel for 2008 than I did in January. I will now make a prediction.

Prediction 1: Out of concern for the environment Greenpeace will begin tracking then boarding SUV's.

Six Degrees of Family Separation

Everyone is an average of six degrees away from each person on Earth. This goes for family members, too. I'm close to my immediate family but am not close with the rest. This game will reconnect me with members of my family.

1. My uncle used to drive a blue Volkswagen Golf.
2. My grandfather has a fondness for foursomes, the playing card variety.
3. The Denver Broncos sometimes play a 3-4 defense.
4. My aunt partied with the Broncos in the 80's.
5. Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello enjoyed a comeback in the 1987 film comedy, "Back to the Beach".
6. I used to listen to the Beach Boys greatest hits in my room but would always skip their song, "In My Room".

Do you want to play?

The Walk to MSG

I was walking towards Madison Square Garden and feeling a little discombibimbapulated. I had just eaten more Korean bibimbap than the surgeon general and the gastroenterologist lieutenant recommends in one sitting. I was with a friend and we were on our way to see a comedian. My friend is a big fan of the comedian. I'm less of one, but I know from experience that a show is more enjoyable when you display similar emotions as the person you went with. I have a flashback to me broadly grinning at a Hall and Oates concert and my date sitting stone(d) quiet. At that night's show, for my friend's sake, I was going to do what the crowd handlers at Letterman's show say before each show, laugh if it's close.
I'm not very good at laughing when it's close, so I sat quietly through the first 3/4 of the show. I was caught out in the cold on some of her pop references, but near the end she told a nervous tale about her new relationship and I experienced the comedy cycle: smile, pain, laugh, pain, smile.

Delirious

My assistant is compiling a list. I'm standing behind her when she asks me what song is running through my head. The song is "Delirious Love" by Neil Diamond and I'm surprised that she knows that my mind is elsewhere. I'm unenthused about the work but was I humming? Were my finger trips drumming?
Should I tell her that I'm thinking of a Diamond song? Shouldn't I name someone more of the moment, like Modest Mouse or Arcade Fire?
I tell her it's a Diamond song, because I'm convinced that my lies are obvious, like the elephant in the room that's wearing no clothes. I wait for her to ask me why I'm thinking about that particular song but she doesn't ask. That's fine because I don't have answer.
If she had been listening to my thoughts that morning she would have thought that the Diamond song was over an hour in length instead of a three minute pop song on repeat.