Poetry 365: Afterwards

The office towers
seem waist deep in sparkling snow.
Last year's coat struggles.

Poetry 365: Rise

Marvin has stolen the bishop's robes.
His hair sticks out of the hat
like a raven in the snow.
He talks in his sleep.

I will find myself in a cramped heaven
where there will be no space to raise my arms.
I will sing softly, hymns of new invention,
and I will eat and breathe the light.

Poetry 365: Conscripted

The war had come to strip mall America.
I was a member of a Wal-Mart militia,
armed with the old stock of sporting goods.
I'm patrolling the abandoned streets
with a cold black gun in the waistband
when I see a solider in grey fatigues
about to shoot a man that I know as Ricky.
I draw down and it is done.

I grab Ricky and ask him if he's ok.
He's in shock and just
sort of shakes his head
as we run for cover.
I can see the silver bullets
coming towards us.
One slides between us,
hitting the wall of an unloved deli.

We are taken in a school bus
for a debriefing. The ride
is thankfully uneventful.
I am taken into a dingy gymnasium.
Brown damp carpets, ping pong tables
and a few old basketball hoops.
There is an office here, and I wait
in line and look through the glass window
at the commander, who looks like a memory
of sleep. Finally, it is my turn.
I hand over my gun and say,
"This is a war for single men,"
and try to find my way home.

Random thoughts about my Marine Corps Marathon

It was a beautiful day. Couldn't ask for anything better than 60 degrees and sunny. I had a classic race for me, fast out of the gate, fade in the back half. I finished in 5:18:33. Somewhere around the Capitol Building where Rosa Parks was lying in state, I lost my groove. I went from 11:00 miles to 12:30 miles. This would further deteriorate until I found myself being passed by a guy in a full body Kermit the Frog costume when I made the 25 mile turn near the Pentagon.

I started to feel twinges in my calves around mile 14, and I throttled back so I wouldn't hobble myself. This was a lesson I learned from my last marathon. Thinking back, this is probably an electrolyte problem as I lost a lot of salt in my traditional orange race day jersey. For the rest of the race, if I felt a twinge coming on, I'd stop and walk for a bit.

I will take a couple of weeks off of running and just take it easy. My feet are blistered and my quads are shredded. Then it's back to the roads.

You see a lot of things in the course of 26.2 miles. Here are my highlights:

• Fans with cowbells. I can't help myself. I had to yell, "Really explore the studio space." Leave it to me to use the most obscure line in the sketch. Fortunately, other runners around me picked up on it and yelled "More cowbell!"
  
• A guy with a couple of his buddies and their girlfriends were in a very isolated part of the course. The single 5th wheel guy had a sign pinned on him that said, "Inspriational hugs given here." I had to. I'm sure he wasn't expecting to hug a big sweaty guy. The ladies thought it was hilarious.
  
• I saw two people in Superman costumes. Tons of "Why don't you fly to the finish?" cracks for those two.
  
• A couple in matching tops with "Just Engaged" written in magic marker. I asked them, "Today? Congratulations!" "Last night. Thanks."
  
• Many people ran in honor of loved ones who are fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. I don't support the war, but I support our troops, by working for the day that they can be home and safe.
  
• Race organizers didn't really think things through in terms of the starting waves. There was a first wave of runners, a wheelchair and handbike wave and then the wave that I was in. The first two miles are uphill. See the impending problem? We caught a bunch of the handbike competitors as they struggled uphill and then they had to weave through us on the way down. Dangerous. Please rethink this, organizers.
  
• Clif Shots are the worst energy gels I've ever tasted. It's like a pouch full of teriyaki sauce. They were free and I was desperate, but the hell if I'm ever buying them.
  
• Another bizarre food hand out: cookies, at mile 22. Great, I'm dehydrated and running out of gas and you give me a free cookie?!?! There better be some milk at the end of that station.
  
• When travelling for a marathon, check late checkout times for the hotel. We had to checkout before I finished the race, meaning no post race shower for me. I ended up taking a towel bath in a bathroom stall in the lobby. That made for a fun plane ride home.
  

26.2 miles in my future

This Sunday, I will run in the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington DC. You will be able to track me via the web or SMS text messaging by signing up at this link. I'll be wearing #22052. That's easily the highest number I've ever worn at a race.

They're expecting 30,000 runners. I will be very happy to finish in 30,000th place. I'm only running against myself, running not to find my limits, but to find my potential. Sometimes, it's hard to believe that I have gotten to this point in my life. A twenty two year old Nervda would have been stunned by a glimpse into a future where he'd be married, have a son and would be gearing up for his second marathon.

Running a marathon is an impressive feat. People say to me, "Wow, you must be really athletic." Not really. I'm just really persistant and stubborn. The marathon tests your will more than it does your legs. I'll see you at the finish, kids.

Endtroducing

I discovered DJ Shadow during one of my infamous recluse phases. I was consulting in the dawn of the internet era. Living in hotel rooms with a couple of books from Borders and a portable CD player. That was almost 10 years ago.

To me, Shadow is the closest thing we have to an abstract painter working in music. Anyhow, here is a link to a high school percussion ensemble playing a live cover of "Building Steam with a Grain of Salt"

What a Wookie!

Chewy always was a rock star. Leia doesn't look like she aged too well in the Fenway shot, does she?

The Cities that Have an Inferiority Complex Towards New York City Series

My friend Joe and I have a mayoresque bet going on. He was born into being a Chicago White Sox fan, the same way that I was born into being a Red Sox fan. We are not bandwagoners. It's about bloodlines. So, we're gonna wager up some Boston specialities vs. some Chicago goodies. I'll have to consult with my wife Jen (another Chicago native) to see what we'd want. My guess is Frango mints and popcorn from that place I forget the name of on Michigan Ave. Joe wants M.I.T. schwag and local microbrew root beer. Anybody know one? All I can come up with is Moxie, but God only knows what that actually tastes like.

I have a feeling that I may have to venture up to the northbank of the Charles for Joe. I don't trust our starting pitching. If we could find a time machine for Schilling and Wells and set it for 1999, I'd be making room for some deep dish pizza in our fridge. C'mon M.I.T. guys, surely you have something that can help in a basement somewhere.

Woodman's

My sister-in-law, R. is in town to meet the J-Dawg. After I got home from my 20 mile run yesterday morning, we were kicking around lunch ideas when R. declares that she must have fried clams. Who can argue that? Certainly not me.

We don't really have any place in mind, so we get on the computer and somehow come up with the North Shore town of Ipswich. We all pile into the Jaspermobile and head up 128. Ipswich is a quaint little town. We saw a couple of 15 year old girls protesting the war in town square: "Make levees, not bombs." About 10 feet from them were a bunch of boys counter protesting: "Honk for Bush." I know who's not gonna get very far with the levee girls at homecoming.

There are lots of cute homes and curio shops, but seemingly no place to get clams. We drive around town for about 30 minutes before we are dizzy from hunger and decide to head toward Gloucester. Surely, fried clams will await us there.

We start down a backroad to Gloucester, when we stumble across Woodman's. It all comes back to me now. I used to live next door to a guy who drove a white mid 80's vintage Chevy Caprice with a bumper sticker that proclaimed Woodman's of Essex as the inventor of the fried clam.

Who invents fried clams? It's not like this guy had a lab like Edison and had failed at other things like fried rocks and fried twigs. According to the website, the inventor's name is Lawrence "Chubby" Woodman. Chubby Woodman?!?! That's dirrrrty.

It's a great old style seafood shack. We got a large bucket of fried clams, onion rings and clamcakes. The clams were awesome. Not too greasy and the clams were of very high quality. They were great with a bit of Frank's Hot Sauce. Onion rings were, well, onion rings. Nothing remarkable. The clam cakes rocked. They were like hush puppies infused with clams. They reminded me of my beloved conch fritters back home in Florida. Definately worth the drive.

Can Calgon take you away at 6AM? Do they have a shuttle bus?

Yesterday morning was, to put it mildly, a bit insane. Jasper woke us both up around 5:45 and was making all sorts of fuss to be fed. Jen then asks me to go make up a bottle of formula for him in the bathroom.

I don't turn on the lights in the hall, as I've done this three times a night for a while now, and on my way to the bathroom, I skid through cat poop. Yes, Roxy has left me and my bare feet a little present. I'm not sure if he's just jealous of Jasper and that he doesn't get as much attention anymore, or if he's just getting old. Anyhow, I make a horrified sound and yell "Cat poop!" back into the bedroom.

I jump in the tub to wash off, as I hear Jasper start to cry. I hurriedly mix up the formula and then rush back into the darkened bedroom. I toss the bottle into the bed like a live grenade and get downstairs to get the mop and bucket. By the time I get back upstairs, Jen says to me, "Where's the formula?" I guess she hadn't seen me toss into bed next to her.

I go inform Mr. Cat of the unacceptability of this situation and get started cleaning. After I've cleaned up the mess, Jen says to me, "You really released the bouquet of cat shit there." I am puzzled, as I believe I've got the situation under control.

After putting away the cleaning supplies, I come back into the bedroom to spend some quality time with Jasper. It is now that I realize that my lovely wife had not been smelling cat shit, but rather, fresh baby shit. This cracks Jen up as I go to change the little man's diaper.

Finally, with all my doody duties complete, I sit on the bed to have some quality time with the J-Dawg. He's very alert and playful. We play a little Superman and I give him little kisses and make cooing noises at him. Suddenly, he regurgitates the formula he was just fed... into my mouth. Clearly, yesterday was not my day.

The Delta

According to sadlyno.com, a German news reporter witnessed a completely staged George Bush photo op.

Anchorwoman: For the latest live from Biloxi, Christine Adelhardt:

Christine Adelhardt: The President drove by here in his convoy 2 minutes ago. What happened today in Biloxi however is truly unbelievable. Rescue teams suddenly appeared, recovery vehicles were suddenly here, one hadn't seen them here over the course of the entire day. And this in an area where it really wasn't necessary to clean up much because pretty much nobody lives around here. The people are further away into the city. The President travels with a press pool, the pool has thanks to this very nice pictures which should say the President was there and help is on the way. The extent of the natural disaster shocked me. But the extent of the staging [Inszenierung] today shocks me at least as much. With that, back to Hamburg.

Sadlyno.com has a link to the video of the broadcast, in case any German speaking readers want to verify this translation. (I'm looking at you, Mrs. Advice Pig)

After I saw this, I was so angry and sad that this is the leader of our country, playing us for fools, letting people die.

Shortly after I read this, I got into my car to drive to lunch. The Sex Pistols came on the FM, screaming "NO FUTURE" during "God Save the Queen." I started wondering why we don't have this kind of angry protest music any more. We've got all this emo, belly button examining stuff. You'd think with a name like Deathcab for Cutie would right about something other than sadboy love. Don't make me buy an amp and write the angry songs myself.

This weekend, I managed to catch U2's performance of "Sunday Bloody Sunday" at the original Live Aid. The words never rang so true with me before: "I can't believe the news today. I can't close my eyes and make it go away. How long? How long must we sing this song?" It's been 20+ years and we still must sing this song.

If there are such things, I hope the ghosts of New Orleans roam the White House halls tonight.

Chaos in New Orleans

I'm sure there's some optimist out there that says, "There's looters? That must mean there are survivors!" It sounds like everyone's worst nightmare. Possibly, thousands of dead. Streets are flooded. Police can't stop the looters.

People are stranded. There are an estimated 20,000 people waiting to be bussed from the Superdome to the Astrodome in Houston. How many school buses are you gonna need to do that? 400 buses? Where are they gonna get that much gas at this point? You can't just declare an evacuation, you figure out the logistics.

Why didn't these people flee before the storm? Many of these people were among the poorest in New Orleans. They had no cars. What were they supposed to do, take the city bus out of town?

President Bush cut his vacation short two days. (Considering it was 6 weeks long, that like you or I cutting our vacation short by 4 hours.) He flew 30000 feet over the devestated area in Air Force One. If there's a better symbol of detachment, I don't know what it is.

I'm rambling. I'm mad, sad and bewildered. My heart goes out to those in Louisana and Mississippi. I hope you all find your way.

The Wilds

I have a window in my office. Well, not really, I have a cube that has a window for a back wall. I see people running on this path just above the parking lot every day. It's under a series of high tension powerlines and runs on an old train path.

Today, the weather was finally bearable enough for me to explore this path during lunch. I've really been lax about my marathon training lately, as I've only been doing the long runs on Sunday and not getting in my midweek runs like I should.

It's sort of industrial and wilderness at the same time. I heard hundreds of crickets. I ran by an electrical tower every 200 feet. The best juxtaposition was a small oak sapling growing in the middle of the abandoned railroad track.

I'll have to bring a camera next time. There are some truly beautiful sights, including a marshy pond with purple flowers, black butterflies with yellow edged wings and a trampoline with black safety netting in the middle of a field.

The best part is the rail bridge that I had to slowly step across, from railroad tie to railroad tie, noticing flashes of water and grass 20 feet below. That'll get you thinking about your steps.

Jokers to the left of me

After my 17 mile training run yesterday, we made a family trip out to Whole Foods to get a few things. As we left the store to go to the parking garage, it started to really pour down rain. I told Jen and Jasper to wait for me out front of the store, while I went and got the car.

We'd parked on the fourth floor and my ankles were bothering me from the long run, so I decided to take the elevator for once. Big mistake. As I pushed the button for the fourth floor, a woman made a dash to join me in the elevator and just made it in time. The doors closed and we sat there. The elevator didn't move. We pushed "door open". Nothing. We pushed the button for ground floor. Nothing. We pushed the alarm button. Nothing. We were officially stuck.

I hit the call button and talked to some operator who asked if he could help us. I told him that we were stuck in the elevator at the parking garage at Church Park. He said that he could barely hear us and asked if we needed help. Now, I don't know about you, but when someone calls me from the phone line inside an elevator, I assume that they need some sort of assistance. It's not like I was calling him to see how his mom was doing. After repeating myself twice, he assured us help was on the way.

I realize that Jen and Jasper are still waiting for me out front. I take out my cell phone to call Jen, and I hear her phone ring in the backpack that I am carrying. D'oh. I have to call information and get the number for Whole Foods and tell the person who answers the phone there to go to the front of the store and find the blonde lady with the baby and tell her that her husband is stuck in the elevator.

Fifteen minutes of sauna time in the elevator later, I finally emerge on the second floor and hike the rest of the way to the car. Fun fun fun.

Dragonfly

About three times a year, I get a phone call from my father, asking me to go to the cemetery to burn offerings and bring a picnic for my grandparents who are buried there. Sometimes, there are very specific requests. Yesterday, I was told not to bring a chicken, but a duck. And the paper to be burned as offerings, was not the normal Hell Money, but instead, brightly colored paper, that represents bolts of bright cloth for our ancestors to use to make new clothing for the season. I suppose bright colors are always in in the after life.

On my father's request, Jen, Jasper and I went to the cemetery with our friends J. and A. in tow. Three of my four grandparents are buried at the Forest Hills Cemetery in the Jamaica Plain section of Boston. My mother's father is the exception, as he died in the Philippines. It was nice to be able to introduce the Chickpea to some of his great grandparents.

My mother's mother raised my brother and sister and I, while my parents were working 12 hour days. I can hardly believe that she's been gone for 7 years now. While we were at her grave, this dragonfly kept landing right next to where we were setting up. The dragonfly kept touching down on a flower that had lost all of its petals, like its wings were a peculiar bloom.

I was able to snap a picture of this. I'm not sure how I feel about capturing the moment in a photo. Often, it is more interesting when a story can't be verified. It makes it seem much more like myth. But the picture in itself is remarkable, I think.

The Chickpea Arrives

Why, it's the Chickpea himself. Jasper Quiren entered the world at 2:12 AM on Thursday July 14, 2005. He weighed 6 lbs. 15 oz. He was 20 inches long. Yay Chickpea!

Moved in

I'm so happy to have friends that aren't afraid of physical labor. In a scant two hours, a crew of 12 moved Jen and I (and the Chickpea) down four flights of stairs into a rental truck and down to the new house. I want to thank all of them for their relentless effort and ingenious methods of shoving a boxspring up the narrow stairs at the new place. You guys rock and we owe you a huge debt of gratitude.

The house is still mostly in boxes. The Chickpea's room is mostly set up and our bedroom is not too far off. The downstairs looks like the warehouse full of boxes at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. I'd take a picture, but I don't know where my camera is. (Probably in a box, with the Ark.)

My proudest moment as a homeowner came while ordering pizza the other night. The guy asked me, "What apartment number?" I said, "It's a single family home." Actually, I'm prouder of the "family" part. Chickpea, it's ok to come out now. We're in your home.

London Calling

We woke up at the new house this morning, on an air matress in the living room, to the meowing of our confused cat who spent his first night here and to the terrible news of explosions in London.

I immediately sent mail to A., who now lives in London with her husband, only to find she'd already sent out an email to all of us who would be concerned for them upon seeing the news. Luckily, her husband was late to to the office, and she'd been working at home. Not everyone was so lucky.

I love the British. And from blog of the alternative paper, The London Line, here's another reason to love them.

Ken Livingstone got it exactly right, in his immensely powerful speech, when he said that the terrorists would fail. Because they have failed already. We're pissed off, we're moping, we've been hooked all day to every news source we could find and we've been deeply concerned about loved ones. But we are not, fucking not, terrorised.

For us, tomorrow will dawn and we'll go about our business unafraid. But for those who planned and carried out these attacks, the best they can hope for is a life on the run, hunted forever, never knowing who will betray them, never knowing from which direction justice might come.

You lose, you cunts. Now - to the pub.

Another email questionaire

I got another one of these things. As with last time, I'm not playing it straight. This time, one answer is mine, the other is Flavor Flav's:

1. What time did you get up this morning? 6:15. Noon. At least that's what it said on the clock I was wearing at the time. You know what time it is.

2. Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds. Pearls don't go with my bling. Pearl, despite the fact they're a little girly.

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Batman Begins. Why does Katie Holmes talk out of the side of her mouth? Did she have a stroke at the Scientology Center? Rize. Love the clowning, boooooyyyyy!

4. What is your favorite TV show? Strange Love. Strange Love.

5. What did you have for breakfast? Eggs Benedict. Count Mutherf*ckin' Chocula.

6. What is your middle name? K. Flava Flav, got no middle name. I ain't got the time.

7. What is your favorite food? Cha siu bao. BBQ ribs got the flava, the flava, the flava.

8. What foods do you dislike? Tomatoes got the funky flava. Ginseng soup. It's supposed to be medicinal.

9. What is your favorite chip flavor? Chocolate, like me. Baked Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream.

10. What is your favorite CD at the moment? The demos for the new Flava Flav!!! Shake the Sheets by Ted Leo and Pharmacists.

Infernal Affairs

Jen's friend from high school, Bill, and his family, were driving through town from Atlanta to Maine and stopped in for dinner the other night. We decided to take them to New Shanghai in Chinatown. Walking from our parking spot to the restaurant, we walked in front of a shop window that said "XXX Adult Entertainment." There were three members of the Chinatown police watch taking pictures of themselves in front of the sign. I felt terrible bringing my pregnant wife, our friends and their three little girls past such a place.

Above the window was a sign that said Ching Insurance Agency. What the hell was going on here? This wasn't here two weeks ago. Chinatown has fought against the porn industry for years. The old Combat Zone existed cheek to jowl with Chinatown for years here in Boston. As in most cities, the internet and DVDs have eliminated the need for a porn district and the Combat Zone is down to practically nothing.

It turns out that the sign is part of a movie set. I nearly forgot that they're filming The Departed in town. Now it all makes sense.

Home

Wow. It seems like a long time since I was able to sit down at a computer. Wednesday, we closed on the house. We had a very quick walkthrough with the old owners of the house and had the 7 keys to the place explained to us. I'm gonna have to get a Palm Pilot to carry around with me to keep it all straight. Which lock do I wiggle? Which one turns the opposite way?

After signing what seemed like 100 sheets of paper, our lawyers declared us real and actual homeowners. We drove back to the rental and rounded up the first batch of boxes (mostly the Chickpea's stuff). With YM's help, we loaded up the Scion and drove to the new Pussycat Assassins World HQ.

We're going to be moving slowly over the next week, with a large crew of friends helping out next Saturday, the 9th to get all the big heavy things. This transitional phase is always weird. Anytime you reference "home" you have to clarify which one you mean. Jen always means the new place. As for me, I'm not sure which I mean when I say it. Maybe "home" is somewhere in the 1.5 miles in between.

Oops, I Did It Again

Motherf**ker! I stabbed myself with a kung fu sword again. I did this in January, same sword, same form, same move, different leg. This time I managed to get myself in the left leg.

Sutures this time instead of staples this time, as I managed to come in at a different angle that made for a wider wound. I'd been half assing this particular move for a long time, sword shy, so to speak. Only recently have I gone full speed with this move. Clearly, I wasn't ready. D'oh.

Down at the ER, everyone assumed that we were there for Jen. It's karma for making fun of the guy in the wheelchair at Sunday's labor and delivery tour.

There seemed to be quite a few laceration injuries at the ER last night. Two guys got smacked by baseballs. One in the chin. One in the forehead. One lady "walked into something" in the shop that cut her across the nose. She wanted to see the plastic surgeon right away. The most notable person in the ER though was the woman with an ailment that we couldn't discern, but she moaned loudly and complained that the morphine wasn't working. That can't be good.

My Super Power

We saw Batman Begins the other night, and I'm reminded that Batman is one of the few superheroes with no superpower. He's just a guy with a bad disposition, lots of training and a LOT of toys.

On the way to the theater our little group got sidetracked over to the ice cream shop, where Jen unmasked my superpower for all to see. I'm nigh invulernable to ice cream headache. I can eat a pint of ice cream on the 3 block walk home and not suffer any ill effects. Now that I'm thinking about it, my Kryptonite would be the 32 ounce Slurpee. That thing's even too cold for me.

What's your real world superpower?

Haiku Movie Review: Howl's Moving Castle

New Wizard of Oz?
Castle walks like old lady.
Best watched while altered.

Haiku Movie Review: Batman Begins

Gotham full of crime.
So, Bruce Wayne was a ninja?
The Darkest Knight yet.

All Due Speed.

I've been working at my latest job here a LUSC (Large, Unnamed Software Company) since March 1st. That's three and half months now. I started looking for work last January. So what do I get in my gmail today?

Thank you for your application to the following position at H****** University. Although we are unable to
further your candidacy for this specific position at this time, we appreciate your interest in H******.

Requisition: 20203
Title: Systems Administrator
School/Unit: Faculty of Arts and Sciences
Department: FAS Financial
Location: Cambridge
Full or Part Time: Full-Time
Salary Grade: 057
Date Posted: 06/24/2004
Date Removed from consideration: 06/13/2005

Once again, thank you for your interest in H****** University. Please save this message for your records.

Please visit our website (http://jobs.h******.edu) to learn more about our current openings.

Yes, six months after applying and nearly ONE YEAR since the job was posted, I get a polite "Thanks, but no thanks," via email, no less. World class place to work? I think not. How can any employer who is serious about hiring run a business like this? Who can wait around 6 months to a year to hear back?

Persuasion

This op-ed piece by Matt Miller in the New York Times wonders if persuasion is dead.

The signs are not good. Ninety percent of political conversation amounts to dueling "talking points." Best-selling books reinforce what folks thought when they bought them. Talk radio and opinion journals preach to the converted. Let's face it: the purpose of most political speech is not to persuade but to win, be it power, ratings, celebrity or even cash.

The phrase "talking points" makes my skin crawl. People don't talk to each other anymore, they read bullet points off of an imaginary PowerPoint presentation. They stack the deck full of there arguments, and unload them on their counterpart and then wait for a return volley.

We refuse to listen. You can't persuade anyone who's not listening.

The Current Exercise Plan

I've been doing pretty well at my workouts lately. I've brought back the crazy 100 push-ups a day policy again. A few weeks ago, we were doing push-ups in my kung fu class and I felt positively weak. So instead of complaining about my recent lack of upper body strength, I brought back the simplest and most effective plan that I know.

You just have to 100 push-up at some point during your waking day. I don't care if you do 4 an hour for the entire day. There are no excuses, as there is no equipment needed except for an open spot of floor.

The way I do it is two sets of 25 in the morning, with a toothbrush break, and two sets of 25 at night with a toothbrush break. When I'm feeling lazy, I get my teeth really really clean.

I've also been running quite a bit with guests. Clarissa and Yu-Ming are my regular running partners on Thursday evenings (Jen can't really join us these days, as the Chickpea isn't big on the running at this point.) A few weeks ago, my brother was in town and joined me on a three mile long 6AM Tuesday morning fog festival and this past weekend, my old pal Will was up from Houston and we did a 5K fun run to raise money for Zoo New England.

It's usually a 6AM solo run on Tuesdays, a group run on Thursdays and a long run by myself on Sunday. This will be the schedule that I use to train for the Marine Corps Marathon in October. In addition to this is kung fu on Monday and Wednesday nights as well as Saturday afternoon.

I know you're thinking to yourself, "Is he going to keep this up when the Chickpea arrives?" I'm sure as hell gonna try. I'll probably cut back on the kung fu and switch one of the sessions to tai chi with the Chickpea strapped on to me. And the running will be a bit of tricky one until he's 6 months old and ready for the stroller. But you know what? I owe it to him to make sure that he has a healthy father. For the longest time, I was afraid of becoming a dad who could only watch his kids playing in the yard, instead of running around out there with them.

Get rich slowly

So in the space of a year, Jen and I will have both changed jobs/career paths, bought a car, bought a house and had a baby. We are so much more adult than we used to be. It's time to start saving money like good adults. I stumbled across this blog post from a guy who read 8 financial self help books and summarized them.

Lots of great stuff here. Jen and I are going to have to sit down and come up with a battle plan based on this info. Much of it is common sense, but it's not common sense that we apply in our day to day lives. You just have to be cognizant of your money and where it goes. I love the idea of automatic saving plans. That's how we saved up the money for our mortgage down payment. It only took a year! Imagine what we can do if it's just part of our daily live for the next 30 years.

Aside: Remind me to come up with a Halloween costume that somehow involves a burlap sack with a dollar sign on it. There's something inherently funny about that to me. Do robbers in old British movies and comics have bags with "£" on them?

The Star Wars dilemma

I'm a good card carrying geek. Yet, somehow, I'm not amped up to see Revenge of the Sith. Part of me doesn't want to give George Lucas any more of my money after the fist clenchingly boring Episodes I and II. Part of me says, I know how this film ends. Hell, we all do. Anakin becomes Vader, yeah, yeah, yeah. I think it's a bit like watching a baseball game on tape when you've already seen the boxscore.

So story isn't a draw. Nor is the stellar dialogue that Lucas tends to write. So what could be the draw for me? The fights. Saber duels are the only thing that will get me excited about this movie. I think the only thing I remember from the second film is that Yoda pulls off a butterfly twist kick that only kung fu junkies can comprehend. Oh yeah, and that horrifying "Padme and Anakin having a picnic by a waterfall" scene. I've got about 6 ounces of scar tissue in my brain because of that. Just awful.

Here's something that's been bothering me for a while. Why the heck do they keep using C3PO and R2-D2 through out the two triologies? By the time Return of the Jedi rolls around, these are both 30 year old robots! I can't keep a computer for more that 3 years without it becoming outdated. C'mon!

Maybe I'll see it. Maybe I won't. Will someone tell me if Yoda pulls off a 720 tornado kick? I might pay to see that.

Siteseeing in my dreams

I've been waking up the past few nights with allergy problems. I've been getting up later and later in the cycle. It was 1:29 the first night, 2:45 the next, 3:30 and finally today, 4:40. That's late enough for me to say, "Screw it. Just get up and get on with your day."

I was having a weird dream, where Jen and I are touring the Northeast driving to these remote towns where they have drawbridges where they play controversal songs continously. Jen is excited to go to the Sinead O'Connor bridge. "The Emperor's New Clothes" is playing on the green metal span above a colorful autumn valley. She's here for tearing the Pope's picture on TV.

The next bridge is over a railroad in an industrial downtown. It's a song called, "Knit Slacks" It sounds like a lost B-52s song from the Bouncing Off the Satellites era. "KNIT! (spidery guitar riff) SLACKS!" I have no idea why this song is such a troublemaker, but it's weirdly enjoyable.

Our next destination is the pie factory outlet. It's filled with irregular pies at a deep discount. I open a box that holds a broken pecan pie, when I wake up stuffed up.

Playing detective

Our real estate agent is really cool guy and found an amazing link for us. The city of Boston has digitized all of the building permits in the city records and made it searchable from this link.

It's a clunky page, but work the time to get it working. You MUST use Internet Explorer. And when you enter an address don't put in the full street name. For example, "Beacon St." returns no hits, whereas "Beacon" does.

Here are some crazy things that I found out.

• The building we currently live in used to have an elevator that was cited for violations at least 5 times since the 1920's. There also used to be a dentist's office in the front (Dr. Austin Cheever).
  
  
• Our new place was built in 1890, by a descendant of a signer of the Declaration of Independence.
  
  
• The place I lived in up the street when I was single was nearly condemned while I was living in it. There was structural damage in a brick wall in the basement. The inspectors really should have looked at the stairs too. Jen was always convinced it was a deathtrap, and now she has documentation for it.
  

Hail to the Chief

It's easy to fall into patterns. I park in the same spot in the garage every morning at 7:55. Every morning, I walk by the same navy blue Hyundai SCoupe with an empty Poland Spring bottle and metro Boston street atlas in the tiny back seat, parked end first waiting to bolt home 9 hours later. And every morning, I notice that the car was purchased at President Hyundai and I think it'd be funny to write a short story about Dylan Fong, who runs President Hyundai, which was founded by his grandfather in 1975. His grandfather though Fong Ford/Lincoln/Mercury sounded too foreign for the good people of New Hampshire, so he called it President Ford and President Lincoln/Mercury. But over the years, the market changed and expanded, which is how we ended up with President Hyundai and President Saturn. But then I get in the elevator and the story never gets much further than that. This is the closest I may get to writing that story.

Notes on music of 1982

Our pals Joe and Leslie stayed with us the other night on there 1/2 cross country drive from Chicago to the east coast. Joe brought us a ton of MP3s from the 80's on CD-R. We both own Scions which play these sort of discs. So yesterday, I took the long way to work and cranked some great old songs from the 1982 disc.

• Am I remembering it wrong, or does Thomas Dolby look like Alton Brown? Must look in to this.
  
  
• Doesn't the name "Simon Le Bon" sound like an old French king? Like there was a "Simon Le Mal" and they had to differentiate them?
  
  
• Listening to this CD is like living a K-Tel compliation commerical. A song comes on for a few seconds, I conjure up an image of the music video in my mind, then the artist and title scroll past. If it's not a song I like, I skip to the next track and it all starts again.
  
  
• Does anyone remember what Survivor looked like? I can only conjure images from Rocky III. I recently saw a Starbucks commerical that used "Eye of the Tiger" that had a band following people around getting them psyched up by playing a customized version of the song for them. Anyone know if that was really Survivor, or it was just central casting?
  
  
• Dammit! I thought I'd erased all of the Air Supply from my mind.
  
  
• Why do I remember so much music from when I was 10 years old? The Chickpea's gonna know the songs of 2015 way too well.
  
  
• The song "The Girl Is Mine" cracks me up. Mostly for the line "I'm a lover, not a fighter." But let's think about this for a second. What woman would be interesting in Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson at the same time today? At this point, wouldn't any woman say, "Listen, Michael, we can still be friends. Paul and I are moving in together."
  
  
• I'd nearly forgotten about the Frieda song "There's Something Going On" That's on me. Sorry about that, Freeds. That song rocks.
  
  
• It always sounded like "Jacques, le monkey" to me.
  
  p.s. Maybe they don't look that much alike...
  
  

Roxbury Line: Bookend?

So, I feel comfortable talking about it now. After looking at 15 to 20 places on Sunday, we put in an offer on a home. After a little bit of back and forth, ("They're willing to leave the washer and dryer, but want $10,000 more than you're offering"), we have an agreement.

It's a single family home in the Roxbury neighborhood of Boston. It's not the most glamorous neighborhood in the world, but it is only a 5 minute walk from the South End (which is certainly Boston glam) and it's about half of what we would have paid if the house were simply 5 blocks east of where it is now. Real estate agents like to call the area we're in a "South End alternative" or "a bookend neighborhood to the South End". Roxy, our cat, likes to call it "Roxybury".

We'll get some decent pictures up here later, as all we have are little shots from the real estate websites. It's three floors and 1050 square feet. You walk in on the second level and there's a formal dining room and a living room. Down in the basement is the kitchen, the 1/2 bath, the storage area/pantry and the patio that opens out on to the backyard. Upstairs are the two bedrooms and the main bath.

Since the kitchen and the dining room are on separate floors, I doubt that we'll use the dining room much, so the plan is to convert it into a library with comfy chairs to sit and read in and a table for spreading out the newspaper and studying. If you've ever been to our apartment, you know we have lots of books, and anticipate lots more for the Chickpea. Maybe, we should get him a little reading rug like you had in elementary school. Or we could get him a matching comfy reading chair. I'm so excited about this house, but especially about this room.

Jen's really excited about the storage space (I know. I think it's impossible for men to get excited about storage space.) and the yard. Now, the yard does rock. It's small, but plenty big for Chickpea's first steps and a nice garden.

We had no idea that we'd be able to get a single family home in the city. We had resigned ourselves to sharing a two or three family in Jamaica Plain or someplace like that. We hadn't really considered Roxbury until we saw this place. I think people are afraid of moving into a neighborhood that they don't see a Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts on every corner. There's something to be said about the local bodega and knowing that you know the name of the guy who works there, because it's his name on the store.

Momentous Momentum

Jen when to the doctor yesterday and returned with new pictures of the Chickpea. I had to write him a letter about the occasion.

Sunday, we start the hunt for the Nervda family homestead. We're gonna try to hit a bunch of open houses and see what's out there. We met with our buyer's agent this morning. He's a great guy and he's got his own blog. He thinks that we can see 15 places on Sunday. Sounds exhausting to me, but he's the pro.

We're going to have to look at each house and say to ourselves, "How's the Chickpea going to like this place?" It's crazy, but we've got to make decisions for a kid that hasn't even been born yet. I wonder if he'll be picky.

Ramble in the Rain

It was cold and rainy at the James Joyce Ramble this year. Stupidly, I wore a white race shirt, thus making for basically a 10K wet t-shirt contest. Not pretty. You can see for yourself at this link from Jim Rhoades and Cool Running. I'm shocked that that gut and those legs are on the same body, much less on my body. I gotta do more sit-ups. I despite the lack of serious training, wind and rain, I set a new 10K record for myself. I'm pleased with the results, if not the picture.

All joking aside, each runner was assigned the name of a solider who was killed in the Iraq War. I ran in memory of John D. Amos II of Valapriso IN. He was 22 years old and killed by an insurgent's bomb last year. I wish you were still around to make that billion dollars for your mom. I hope all of military personnel come home safe.

26.2 to Copley Sq.

As I do every year, I took the day off from work to watch the Boston Marathon yesterday. Part of it is practicality. I live a few blocks from the course and road closures make it nearly impossible for me to get anywhere. The other part is that it's like have the Super Bowl in your front yard. And it's a sport that I play!

Our friend D. from Slovenia joined us yesterday. She runs too. All three of us will be running in the James Joyce Ramble this Sunday. Nothing gets you motivated to run like watching a world class marathon.

We saw another thrilling women's race. Last year, Catherine Ndereba and Elfenesh Alemu were neck in neck for 25 miles until Ndereba pulled away. This time, Alemu led for the first 20 miles, sometimes by as much as 1:20. Until. Ndereba caught her in the Newton hills around mile 20. They ran together for about 10 minutes. I'm sure Alemu was having visions of deja vu at this point. All of a sudden, Ndereba found another gear and pulled away in shocking fashion. Watching on the big screen at Copley, none of us could believe the gap she opened up.

We stuck around the finish line a little longer until around the 2:30 mark and then went further up the course to cheer on the non-elites like us who live for this race. Lots of people wear their name on the shirts so you'll cheer for them and call out their name. Who am I to deny them?

The most common names were Amy, Liz, Dave and Jeff. (Dave, Jeff, I fully expect you to run a marathon now.) My favorites were the Koreans who ran with backpacks and Korean flags. Everytime I yelled "Go Korea" they'd look over and smile. Jen thinks that they think I'm Korean. Probably so.

Take me out to the ball game

OK, I gotta get it all out of my system.

• As much as I love watching baseball on TV, it's a million times better in person. It was 43 degrees out there, and everyone was so into the game that nobody noticed.
  
• When you think of sports fans and the word "hooligan", you think of soccer. How long before we have baseball hooligans. The guy who got into it with Sheffield last night might qualify.
  
• A fan in the stands along the first base line made a pretty good catch of a foul ball in the early innings and a HUGE cheer went up. I didn't think it was that great of a catch. It turns out that it was caught by Boston College football legend Doug Flutie.
  
• Fenway Franks are ok, but Dodger Dogs are better. Actually, forget about the hot dogs altogether and get a Polish in Wrigley.
  
• The Chickpea was very active at the game. Jen reports that he was kicking quite a bit. We agree this is a sign that he loves baseball, but she's convinced he's a Cubs fan. Chickpea, we have a championship in the last 80 years...
  

Craziness at Fenway

I saw lots of things tonight at Fenway that I'd never seen before. A hitting coach thrown out. The manager thrown out. The closer loading the bases in the ninth and somehow getting out with a shutout inning and an 8-5 win over the Yankees. And craziest of all, a fan taking a swipe at the right fielder. Then the fielder taking a shot back BEFORE throwing it back in.

Jen and I were at the game with JS and his wife JS, sitting 20 rows up and one section over from the scuffle. It was a very tense game and my first thought was "Crap. We're gonna have to forfeit the game because of this idiot." Fortunately, Gary Sheffield didn't go into the stands and do his Ron Artest impression. Security got involved quickly and kept things under control. The picture is taken from our perspective not far from the altercation. How many cops do you count in that picture?

Boston is a real sports town

Tomorrow begins a great run of live sports viewing. We're headed to the bleachers of Fenway Park to see the Red Sox play the Yankees. I've seen these two teams play before, but in New York, as a Red Sox fan. We were doing terribly that season, so the animosity wasn't too bad. The Yanks fans were just indifferent toward us, like the popular girls in high school. This time the Sox are wearing the crown and at home. It should be something to write home about.

Then Monday is the Boston Marathon. It's an actual holiday in Massachusetts. It's Patriots Day to commemorate the beginning of the American Revolution. I haven't worked for Massachusetts based companies, so I have to take the day off. I have no other choice. It's like the Super Bowl of marathons and it's in front of our house. Watching the leaders is unbelievable. You watch them at the finish, and realize that they run faster at any point during the 26 miles that you can run at all. We stay out there and cheer on the regular people who run with their names written across their shirts and shout their names. I know that if I were out there running, they'd be cheering for me.

Is there a secret handshake?

I've only been driving a car in Boston again for about 6 weeks. I don't have an loyalty or disloyalty to a particular gas station. Until yesterday. Mere moments after reading this post by my friend Andy, I had made a decision.

There are two stations within a mile of the office. One is an inconvenient left turn across traffic and self serve, and the other is a simple right turn and full service. So, I decide to try the full service. I'm feeling lazy. I pull up in my very boxy Scion xB and tell the older man working the pumps to fill it up with 87. He starts the pump and comes back to my open window and says, "You know what they call this car? A Puerto Rican Hummer." I'm not sure what reaction he expects me to give him, but I obviously don't provide him with it. It was probably a raised eyebrow.

He starts to back track. "That's what they call it on that radio station, Jammin' 97." Does he think that hearing it on an urban radio station gives him justification? I consider driving off, but there is currently fuel being pumped into the car. I hand him my credit card and fiddle with the radio. He hands me my card "I don't mean to be disparaging or nothin', that's what they call it. On the Jammin' 97. I'm just saying."

At least this guy could tell he'd started in with the wrong guy. But back to Andy's point, what do these guys think when they say stuff like this. I don't LOOK like a guy who enjoys racist comments, do I?

Objectives

I've decided to run my life like a business. Everything's just smoother that way. So then, today is the first day of Nervda's fiscal year. I'm going to lay out some goals for the upcoming year:

1. Reducing operating costs. The outlay for cheeseburgers and pizza is absurd. It's back to the economically effiecent ramen.

2. Win a marathon. I've run one. I'm tired of being a midpacker. Kenyans beware.

3. Teach the Chickpea to pitch. Left handed. This is a major investment. Have you seen how much money a lefty reliever can make?

4. Limit stupid April Fool's items on the blog to one.

You Sent Me to Iraq! You Bastards!!

Trench art: You Sent Me to Iraq! You Bastards!!, originally uploaded by gruntzooki.

So, the story is that this is currently beinging displayed by some soldiers in Iraq. April Fool's joke, or reality? I don't know, but if it is a joke, I'll bet that it starts showing up there soon.

Poetry 365: Hero Worship

The bullet train ends
in a town called Takajo.
Jane walks the five minutes
into the center of town to the museum
where they've built an exact replica
of the bedroom that she grew up in,
next to the mockups of Edison's lab
and Neruda's study.

"Exact," thinks Jane.
And it is. The dark panel walls
and card table with the old Mac.
Exact. She takes her phone
out of her inside coat pocket
to call her mother to ask
what book is sitting on the bedside table
back in the original.
In both places, it's a dog-eared
paperback of "The Big Sleep".

Macho macho man

I'm working on a new sword form in kung fu. It's a southern broadsword style, it's chock full of muscle man poses and power attacks. Yao, my kung fu master, says it's a macho form and that I'm not a macho man. He says that I've got a coolness that is mutually exclusive from macho. So, we're gonna have to figure out how to fake the machismo to get the set right.

I've never thought of myself as macho, and I'm happy to be unmacho. Macho to me is oafish, brutish and insensitive.

This is NOT me

I have a very common name, so it is very often that I find other people with the same name doing things for which I may get blamed. Men with my name have died in my hometown, prompting the weird experience of seeing my own name in the obituaries and been arrested for drug possession with intent to sell, thus allowing me to see my name in the police blotter. Well, another namesake has done it again:

William Lee, 48, died after witnesses say he became belligerent and shoved an attendant during an evening American Airlines flight from Los Angeles and was physically restrained by seven men, possibly members of a rugby team from Australia or New Zealand.

Sproing

It's finally bearable outside today, and Jen and I decided to get back into our running routine. We haven't been running for a long while due to a combination of factors: the brutal winter, the joblessness situation and the first trimester uncomfortableness. But all of those factors have fallen away now.

I decided to run a 5.6 mile route, while Jen took a shorter 5.2 loop. The first two miles were brutal for me. My body was still trying to remember how to run. Finally, the endorphins kicked in and I finished up strong. I didn't realize how much I miss running.

I'm going to enter the James Joyce Ramble 10K again this year. That race is at the end of April, so I've got to get down to business and really start training. It's one of my favorite races despite the giant hill in the middle of mile 3. One of it's distinguishing features is at each mile marker, there is someone dressed in period costume reading from Joyce. What's even more bizarre are there are bandit readers, standing on random street corners reading from their favorite Joyce. One year, there was a guy reading aloud from the Italian translation. I thought I was running too hard and had somehow come down with aphasia.

Radio Nervda #5

Spring looks like it may finally make an appearance. It's been in the forties and much of the snow has melted away. I hope winter's taking his final bow for the year.

Ryan Adams is the closest thing we have to the 80's Replacements. If you go to one of his shows you don't know if he'll be to drunk to play, or brilliant. He doesn't sound too drunk here: "My Sweet Carolina" (live in Denver).

If we're going to play that music criticism game where everybody is somebody from the past, Ted Leo and Pharmacists is definately Elvis Costello and the Attractions. Ted and the Pharmacists make catchy propulusive rock just like E.C. back in their glory days, before Elvis thought he could write sontatas and standards as well as rock tunes. Ted, stay away from the "culture" and you'll be fine. This is "Tell Balgeary Bulgury is Dead"

The Kaiser Chiefs music have a pretty extensive old record collection. Listening to this song, I can hear that they've got a lot of Clash in old milk crates. There's something else that I can't quite pick out. Maybe you can clear this up for me. This is "I Predict a Riot"

Instead of listening to new music and making up some sort of nostaligia for the 80's, I've cut out the middleman completely. This is a recording of XTC live in 1982. "Burning in Optimism's Flames"

Here's OOIOO from Japan the what could be the world's heaviest sounding piece of surf rock, called "Right Hand" If you're a fan of the Flaming Lips you will recognize the woman's screaming vocal. That is THE Yashmi of the Boredoms singing on this. I think it's sung in English, but as always, I could be wrong.

That's what you learn in life, that at any given point, you could be wrong. Most of the time, it doesn't really matter.

Roxy's birthday

Hail, hail. It's Roxy's birthday. He's turning 20 today. Quite an accomplishment. There's no real good rule of thumb to convert human years to cat years. Let's just say there are only a few varieties of dirt that are older than he is. He's still spry. Got all of his teeth and still jumps up on the couch and meows very loudly for his breakfast.

Poetry 365: Overnight

One thousand yellow robots,
each smaller than a postage stamp
are amassed outside your bedroom door,
and you hear them.
You hear them scratching
on the door jamb.
You hear their little robot prayers,
pleading for victory,
and you can't wake up just yet.

Poetry 365: One Clearwinter Night

The cold air brushes
away the usual haze.
one thousand blue stars.

Radio Free Nervda

Music is a lot of things: it's a soother, a stimulant, or sometimes a time machine. I first heard Virgil Shaw before the turn of the century. (That makes me sound like a crusty old man, doesn't it?) It was 1999 and I went to visit my friend Will in Austin during SXSW. I actually bought an advanced copy of Quad Cities from Virgil himself. He played this song that night: "Gypsum". It's so spare and blue collar. Basically, the opposite of me.

Devin Davis has a new album coming out called "Lonely People of the World Unite". How did this title escape Morrissey all these years? I love this line in this song: "We can talk on and on for hours about how the wind goes 'doo doo doo doo doo". Enjoy the non-sequitirly titled "The Turtle and the Flightless Bird".

"Cars Can't Escape" is an outtake from the legendary Wilco album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I'm always amazed by the songs that DON'T make albums.

I didn't know that Polly Jean Harvey had a favorite Fall song. But she she'll tell you all about it. "Janet, Johnny and James" It is sort of refreshing to hear a Fall cover because it means someone might actually understand a lyric on occasion.

Moonmaan is Rick McCollum's new Minneapolis based band. Who the hell is Rick McCollum, you axe? He was Keith Richards to Greg Dulli's Mick Jagger in the late great Afghan Whigs. "Light of the Moon" is a rough mix from their upcoming debut. If this is the rough draft, I can't wait to hear the finished product.

Enjoy the music. Let me know what you think? Fifth caller wins movie passes.

Poetry 365: Marching Towards Spring

Clearly, the winter
hasn't had enough of me:
snow falls left to right.

Radio Nervda #4

This week's show is the first one that I actually put together on a playlist and blasted in the car. That's the true test of music: how does it sound when going 55?

I doubt that many of you spend a lot of cycles walking idly through the supermarket aisle asking yourself, "What happened to Fiona Apple? Shouldn't she have a new record out yet? Hey, is mac and cheese on sale 3 for $1?" For those of you who do, she recorded a record a few years ago and Sony shelved it because they "didn't hear a hit" And yes, mac and cheese is on sale, but it's not Kraft. It's Craft Markoroni and Cheez. You should probably avoid that. Here's a song from those lost Fiona sessions called "Get Him Back".

Robyn Hitchcock should be a much bigger star than he is. This is the reunited Soft Boys live in the studio with "If You Know Time". Granted, it's not live right now. And it's not my studio.

I remember when I was little, I thought that the music on the radio was all live. That the musicians were down at the station in the same room as the DJ. We went to the easy listening station for a class trip and I was sorely disappointed to see all the tape machines and blinking lights. This station didn't even have DJs. It was all automated systems from the home office.

So imagine if you will, Depeche Mode hanging out with Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart. Martin Gore offers Annie a Kool Light, and she says, "No thanks, I've got to sing in a minute." Right. This is a mash up of "Policy of Truth" and "Sweet Dreams".

Liz Durett "Ablaze". I have no idea what to say about this track other than this sounds like the 15 minutes immediately after a summer thunderstorm.

Pavement is one of my favorite bands of all time. This is a louder, fuzzier, more reckless version of my favorite Pavement impression of the Velvet Underground. This is the Peel Session version of "Here".

If you can find the link, I'll play requests. Download away. Burn the tracks to a CD or your iPod. Let's spend our last quarterstance randomly...

Michael Jackson Reenactments

Jen and I were flipping through the channels when we came across the reenactments from the Michael Jackson trial on E!. I realized that the guy who plays Michael might not say a single thing during the duration of the show, if his lawyers keep Michael off of the stand. He has to sit there and react and look like Michael. What a strange job.

The other weird thing is that the network bleeps out the last name of the family of the accuser. So you keep hearing sentences like, "Did you confront the BLEEP family about their accusations?" My brain just plugs in a curse word for the bleep.

Nervda vs. Snow

Last night, Jen and I were watching Fear Factor, when suddenly a man driving down Beacon St. with a bullhorn announces that the city of Boston has declared a snow emergency and anyone parked on Beacon needs to move their car or risk ticketing and towing. So I throw on my shoes and coat to move the Scion.

You gotta move fast before the other people on the same street find parking spots on the side streets. I ended up orbiting around a few blocks in the neighborhood with three other cars until I found a spot five blocks away. I didn't even realize what street I was on at first. The snow was coming down in small hard pellets at this point, so I ran home to minimize exposure.

This morning, it took me twenty minutes to dig out this morning. For some reason the plows stayed a good two feet away from our car. This left a huge chunk of snow between me and the clean road. It took me forever, since I'm a Florida boy, and in my years of being a Northerner, I never really drove. I gotta figure out all of the shovelling tricks.

The coolest snow moment was in my cubicle this morning. I managed to get a cube with a window for a back wall. It's near a L shape portion of the office building on the fifth floor. The swirling wind caused the snow to look like it was falling up. It's mesmerizing.

Somehow after of six winters in Boston, I can still find snow mesmerizing.

Day One at the Office

I had a rough night of sleep last night. I was very anxious about my first day of work. I kept waking up. It just didn't feel real until I got to the office and found my desk. I got there before the office opened, and I had to hitch a ride up with people just coming in from the parking garage.

My new cubicle has 6 foot tall grey fabric walls. It's a very quiet office, but the best part is the back wall of my cube is a window! Granted, it's a view of the parking lot and high tension power lines, but those lines are on a hillside. I think I'm going to start parking the car where I can see it.

This place still has some of the old dotcom boom year remnants. The soda machines are free. (I tracked down the machine with the Fresca.) Free breakfast is provided every morning, and there's the ubiquitous foosball, pool and ping pong tables.

The Oscars

I'm not really gonna blog the Oscars. I just don't care about the nominated movies. Somehow the Academy almost completely ignored Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I guess all I really care about is Chris Rock's opening monologue. What's the over/under of the first f-bomb?

The only nominated film that I saw was Ray. It was ok, but it's like a TV biopic. Ray's life is hard to contain in a two hour movie.

It's nice to see Don Cheadle get some recognition for his work. I love this guy. Of course, I'll root for anyone who was in Boogie Nights.

I just noticed that 4 of the 5 nominees for best actor played real people: Johnny Depp's J.M. Barrie, Leonardo DiCaprio's Howard Hughes, Jamie Foxx's Ray Charles, and Don Cheadle as Paul Rusesabagina (I had to look that one up). Of course, Clint Eastwood's just sort of playing himself. That has to be some sort of record, right?

C'mon Rock, give me something to write about. He busted out "asses" in his first full sentence. You gotta love that.

Rock is just bashing everyone. Colin Ferrell, Michael Moore, Tobey Maguire, President Bush, and Jude Law. No singing, no dancing. Just Chris Rock going after the establishment. Will I remember any of these jokes next week? I doubt it. OK, I think I've already forgotten them. OK. I'm done. What's on ESPN?

Radio Nervda #3

If you've never heard Sleater-Kinney, you're missing out on true force of nature. The best way to describe them is if the Gogos had become much more musically agressive and thrown out the bass player and decided to turn up the guitars in the abscence of the bass. "Words and Guitar" is almost a sort of manifesto.

I don't know what to say about Baby Teeth other than these guys are soulful bastards and have hilarious photos on their website. I love the 70's prom tuxedo look. "Here's Celebrity Wedding".

Not only is Billy Bragg a brilliant songwriter, he's the only English singer I can think of who actually sings with English accent. That always cracked me up about the Beatles. They sound American when they sing, then you watched Hard Day's Night and wondered where the hell the subtitles were. This is a live version of "Accident Waiting to Happen"

Do you remember the t-shirt that Kurt Cobain used to wear with a cartoon alien on it that said "Hi, How Are You?" That's a Daniel Johnston shirt. Johnston is an indie legend. He's a very strange guy, I suggest you read his bio on his site. I've seen him twice. I was stunned by his appearance. You don't expect him to be a 300 pound guy with grey hair and a small classical guitar. He looks like a bear playing a ukulele. Ask my friend Will about the time we saw him a SXSW in Austin. It was great. Here's Daniel with a full band, playing "Rock This Town Tonight"

I know I played some American Music Club, but I can't resist giving you another another help of Mark Eitzel. This is one of his finest solo moments. Here's Jen's favorite: "Proclaim Your Joy".

OK, that's it for today. Go outside and enjoy yourself now. Or download these tracks, slap them on your MP3 player, then go outside. It's nice out.

Now at bat...

Baseball is about to make its spring rebirth as it does every year. Each player has his own music when he comes to bat. Here's the reader participation portion of the program. What would your at bat music be? Leave your musical choices in the comments.

As for me, I have to go with "William, It Was Really Nothing" by the Smiths. That would probably the only Smiths song ever played in a baseball stadium.

At left is the 70's Red Sox pitcher Spaceman Bill Lee. Gotta love him. If I ever went to fantasy baseball camp, I'd have wear his jersey. Number 37.

Last day of no responsibilities

Today is my last workday without having to go to work. It's been a harrowing process at times. I've never had the kind of pressure to find a job like this. It's a totally different story when you're married and have a baby on the way. Somehow, it all worked out perfectly. My health care coverage from the last job ends on February 28th. The new coverage starts on that same date. No need for gap coverage. I missed one pay period, but made up for it with nearly two weeks of vacation pay.

I have no idea how it all worked out for the better, but it has. Jen and I must have good karma built up over the years.

For the first time ever, I will actually be paying attention during the benefits section of the new employee orientation. I hope they don't start talking about the TPS cover sheets right away.

Looks like a snow day here already. I'll probably spend the day digging out the car and just goofing off. Oh, how I'll miss that.

Magic toothpaste

On occasion, I come up with these wacky ideas for inventions. There was the bathroom desk I came up with during college. You'd place it in front of the toilet. This prompted the question, "Pants? Or no pants?" The answer is a Constanza-esque "No pants, baby!"

Another one of these wacky ideas was the toothpaste that didn't make orange juice or milk taste terrible for a half hour after brushing your teeth. Incredibly, Jen and I stumbled upon this product in the real world last week: Tom's of Maine's Natural Homeopathic-Style Toothpaste. I don't know why it's "homeopathic style" Is it not homeopathic at all? Damn you Tom! For beating me to market and for confusing me with your marketing. Anyhow, I strong recommend the apricot flavor. It tastes great and you can now safely brush BEFORE breakfast.

Radio Nervda #2

Back again, is the incredible, blog animal. More music from the interweb for you fine people.

Have you ever heard Bob Dylan's "Lay Lady Lay"? Ever wonder why he doesn't sound like the nasally incomprehensible Bob that you know and I love? For the making of the album Nashville Skyline, he moved to Nashville and hung out with Johnny Cash and quit smoking and really tried to sing. Here's their duet on Johnny's song "Big River". Until I heard this song, I had no idea that Davenport, Iowa was on the Mississippi. Thanks to Johnny for teaching me some geography.

I am a big fan of weird collaborations, like Johnny and Bob or Sonic Youth and Chuck D on Kool Thing, but the advent of the mashup makes for even weirder combos. Jay-Z is the king of mashup source material as far as I'm concerned. I've heard tons of versions of the Black Album, but I've not actually heard the original mixes. Here's Jay-Z and Radiohead with "99 Anthems".

I love uncomplicated indie rock/jangle pop like this track by the Invisible Cities called "Bumper Cars" I feel about 16 but then my creaky knees remind me that I'm twice that age.

This sounds like a karaoke party at my mom's house if they had to sing over an absurdly fuzzed out guitar/party jam by Beck. This is Ronnie Ong's "Buttons and Bows" I'm absolutely floored by this song and the fact that it was recorded in the 60's.

One last track before I go. This is Amy Miles and she's got a secret that you'd "Kill to Know."

Thanks again for stopping by. Until next time, keep your feet on the ground and keeping reaching for the stars. (And gimme all your money, Kasey.)

We have an asset now

We ventured out into the suburbs again today to look at more used cars. We drove an old Jetta, and after a few miles, we started to smell burning oil. Immediately, Jen's internal radar went off, saying something like "Baby. In. Danger. Get. Out. Of. Car." So for a reliabilty and safety standpoint, we decided to buy a new car instead. We bought the craziest looking, most affordable and likely reliable thing out there: the Scion xB.

Ours is camoflauge green and was under $15K. We'll spend more money on rent this year than on the price of this car. It drives exactly like my old Corolla did, but it's 3 feet shorter. That'll make for good parallel parking here in the city, and since it's a Toyota, it'll just last forever. The plan is to sell some stock after the Chickpea arrives and pay this one off and get another car in the same price range.

It will be interesting to see what the other people at my new job drive. It's a pretty good indication of the vibe at the place. My last job, people drove VW's and Dodges. Pretty blue collarish. At AOL, it was insane during the stock option days. Lots of Mercedes, BMW and Porsche.

It'll be fun to drive this thing to work every day. I need to hook up the iPod to the stereo. If we'd gotten the white, it would have seemed a fitting twin. Of course, my iPod is in a safety cone orange silicone case, so it wouldn't be the same anyhow.

The Car Buying Food Chain

We're in the market for a car, as I'll need one to commute to work on a daily basis. There's a very well defined food chain. At the top is the new car dealer. These guys take some trade-ins as part of their daily business. Anything that they can sell for 10000 or more, they'll keep on their lot and sell. Anything else, they'll sell to a used car dealer.

The used car guys tend to specialize in certain cars. We went out to the sticks to see a 97 Passat today, but it was bought out from under us. Anyhow, Richie the car dealer explained to us that he specializes in Caddies and Lincolns. He buys from a couple of new car dealers, three or four cars at time. At times, he has to take some other cars to buy the Caddies that he wants. That's how he ends up with the occasional Passat or Saturn that he got from Joe Smith Cadillac/Saturn/Volkswagen.

Now if Richie can't sell the Passat or Golf or whatever non-Caddy, he takes it to the auto auction where someone who specializes in VWs might buy that car for resale to the consumer.

Lots of middlemen between the car and you the consumer. We're looking at some Jettas tomorrow. We shall see how it works out.

Chickpea's Gender

Wanna know the gender of our little Chickpea? Go here and find out.

Budgetary Freeze Lifted!

I received a job offer on Friday. There's one other place that I've interviewed several times with. I've asked them to make an offer or I'll move on to the other job. So, by midweek, I will have a job.

I'm very relieved that the Chickpea will not be born into poverty. Massachusetts birth certificates have a spot for "Father's Occupation". I'm pleased to have something to put down there.

It looks like we'll have to have two cars to pull this off. Jen will likely get a new car, and I will get a cheap new car or well loved used car. With the job starting at the end of the month, we'll have to buy a car this week or next.

We've been trying to be very frugal lately, with the economical uncertainty of late. But now the gloves are off. We bought Jen a new pair of Pumas for the spring. The Puma store was packed, but there was no line at Neiman Marcus (Needless Markups), and the price was the same. The weird thing there is that they don't accept Visa or MasterCard. Only American Express, or cash. Or maybe kruggerands or gold ingots or something.

die Strandjungen

Nobody will give me airtime on a radio station to have my own show, I'm gonna do it on this blog instead. So welcome to the first episode of my untitled internet radio show.

I'm still out in the sticks dog sitting with Jen and we've got no TV and we're in an unfamiliar house. Thank God for our laptops and my cousin's wifi connection.

Is there much surfing in Germany? This is from the archive at WFMU. This one's for you, Kacia. It's the Beach Boys, singing in German. This kinda makes me want to see a clip of Beach Blanket Bingo dubbed in to German.

It's good to know that there are still bands influenced by the Smiths out there. It's even better to know that they're called Math and Physics Club. There's a math AND PHYSICS club? Why was I not alerted? Anyhow, here's song of theirs called "Graduation Day"


American Music Club was one of the great unknown bands of the late 80's early 90's that never really made it. Maybe it's because they sounded like an outfit that would let you buy 11 of their cassettes for a penny, but then send you a new tape every month in perpetuity and charge you 17.97 a month. Anyhow, after 10 years in the wilderness, they're back with a new album. This track is called "Another Morning"

This is my favorite mash up of the moment. It's Christina Aguilera (in the pre-Dirrrrty era) over a Velvet Underground track, with a little bit of a Communards track over the fade out. When Jen and I were in Houston visiting Will, we couldn't stop saying, "I couldn't get Christina to wear no panties, so I spray painted her po-po red." (Long story, really.) This is a well made mix by Go Home Productions in England. Here's the supremely awkwardly titled "Girl Wants (To Say Goodbye To) Rock and Roll"

I'll bet that Andrew Vincent of Andrew Vincent and the Pirates, was in the math and physics club in high school too. Here's the very Postal Service-ish cover of the Beasties' "Paul Revere"

OK, that's the show for today. I'll be back at some other irregularly scheduled time with more music for you. This is Radio Nervda. Thank you, good night.

World Cup Qualifiers

OK, so maybe Nervda is still a sports blog today. I happened to get home in time to turn on the North/Central America World Cup Soccer qualifying match between the US and Trinidad and Tobago. I never understood why they'd play such an important match at 2PM on a Wednesday afternoon. Apparently, quite a few people in Trinidad got the day off from work to go to the game. It's ninety degrees out there, but the Americans look ready. I turned on the channel just in time to see Kasey Keller make a great save on a breakaway, and almost immediately, Eddie Lewis scored on a long shot from outside the 18 yd box to make it 2-0.

Queen's Park in Port of Spain, Trinidad is a beautiful stadium. There's a huge oak tree next to the covered grandstand. It's not antiseptic, like the stadiums here. You can see nature in the park. The only comparision in the U.S. is the old Orange Bowl in Miami, with it's majestic palm trees.

I never understood why soccer isn't bigger in this country, especially after the success of the women's team and the men's team's performance in the 2002 cup. Is it that the average Joe isn't fit enough to relate? After all, tons of couch potatoes love NASCAR because they have a driver's license, fat guys think they could be offensive linemen if they bulked up. I have no idea.

Out of town

Once and a while, this blog turns into a sports blog for a series of posts, and I apologize for that. So we're back to normal programming now...

Jen and I are down in the suburbs near Providence, dog sitting for my cousin Mike and his wife. He's going down to Miami Beach for a few days for a business conference. Damn him and his travelling into warm weather!

The dogs are lovely and taking a nap right now. I'll post pictures of the ladies later on.

I'll be back in the city tonight for kung fu training and to spend some quality time with our cat, Roxy. He's going to turn 20 next month. We're thinking about throwing him a party. We just think it'd be funny to make him wear a hat. And twenty years of being a cat is something to celebrate, don't you think?

Title number 3

46 seconds ieft from the 4.

Gain of one on a pass. no timeouts. 17 seconds left. 3rd and 9. Bad clock management by the Eagles.

Pick by Harrison! Game over. Hugs all around on the Patriot sideline.

Who's the MVP? Branch? After hearing the stats, maybe it's Harrison.

Man that was an OOOOOGLY game. But as usual, the Patriots win the ugly ones.

Kill the clock. Win the game. Maybe?

Onside kick ahead. At least I think so. Let's see.

Fauria recovers the onside kick.

1:47 left. NE comes out running. Dillon picks up 2 and gets the Eagles to burn their second timeout.

Third and five on the Eagles 35. Faulk is stopped for no gain. They bring their punter. And then call timeout.

The Pats down it on the 4 yd line. It's time for the backyard drive.

It's a game!

Pats go three and out after the interception and the Eagles get the ball back at their own 20 yd line. 5:40 left.

Terrell Owens makes an amazing catch on an out to keep the drive alive. There's 3:28 left in the game now. The ball is on their own 45.

The Eagles are strangely taking their time running plays. The clock's down to 2:15. I'm no football genius, but shouldn't they be running no huddle?

Two minute warning. More ads!

How is Sahara not a Bruckheimer movie?

Thirty yard touchdown down the middle to Lewis! Beats the safety with a double move. It's 24-21.

Bruschi Interception

TO busts a long play down the left side against single coverage. Tedy makes the big pick killing the drive. Can the Pats put it away now?

Mr. Dillon to you

After an insane catch from Deion Branch, who snatched the ball away from the DB, Dillion plows it up field.

Monkey ad! Ass kissing and flying bananas.

Back to game action. Brady sees blitz at the five, but throws an incompletion. Dillon gets stuffed on third down.

Viniteri drills a 22 yd FG. It's 24-14 with 8:40 left in the game.

Start of the 4th

New England is driving down the field. They're running on them pretty well. Down at the Eagles 16. Faulk takes the screen to the two. And Dillon punches it in from there. 21-14 Pats.

C'mon. Gimme a monkey office ad....

Nope, it's running without moving. What the heck are they selling? The Prius.

Eagles driving

Philly's starting the move the ball well underneath. The Pats secondary is giving them lot of room underneath. TO is playing really well considering his condition. He's got 6 catches. They're at the Pats' 21.

Underneath to Lewis at the 14. They get the first with Westbrook underneath.

Touchdown pass to Westbrook. Maybe the Greek is right. It's 14-14 now.

Opening the third

The Pats are starting to drive and click. They're picking up the blitzes and finding open guys.

Deion Branch is picking apart the zone. Dillon can't get the run game going right now.

Branch gets the ball down to the 2. Vrabel gets another touchdown. It's the same play that he always scores on. You'd think people would figure out to cover that play. Mike does that Eagle touchdown dance.

14-7 Pats.

Halftime

McCartney dusts off the oldies. "Drive My Car"?

Do any of the kids in the crowd know who Paul McCartney is?

Hey, they left the "California grass" reference in "Get Back" Good work, Paulie!

I KNEW IT! "Live and Let Die" It's very pyrotechnically suited. I just know that some of those kids are thinking "Hey, he's covering that Guns N Roses song. I wonder if he covers 'Knocking on Heaven's Door' too?"

What a great throwback. A time when McCartney was great and James Bond movies were good. Ah, those were the days.

"Hey Jude" with glowsticks. I hope those kids know the "Na, na, na, na nanannah!" part.

Paul looks great. Too bad we can't say the same about John and George, isn't it.

The signs spell out "Na na nanana nah" in the crowd, in case you don't know the words. What's with the random Statue of Liberty imagery?

Excellent work, Paulie. I'm proud of you.

Shot from the booth

They're showing a shot of the announcers standing up in the booth. I wonder if they do this just to assure us that they're actually wearing pants. Eeeeeww. I just made myself think about a pantless Joe Buck. And now, I've shared that with you.

7-7

Brady drives the team down the field and finishes it off with an easy touchdown pass to Givens in the right corner.

Givens does his best T.O. touchdown celebration impression. I wonder how he feels about that. Maybe he'll crush Givens with his abs.

An Office Monkey

I think I just saw a monkey xeroxing his ass. That's quality.

The Corey Dillon Show

Two straight screen passes for 10 a piece to Corey Dillon. The Fox crew is already saying that it's been a domination by the Eagles. How quickly will they change their tune? It's 7-0, not 21-0.

Fumble by Daniel Graham? It'll called that way, but here comes the challenge flag.

No fumble.

More Corey Dillon. He rumbles for 25 yards on great cutback run and drags a defender for 5 yards.

Brady fumbles it away at the 5.

A score?

The Eagles are mounting a good drive here. McNabb does a Houdini act in the pocket and chucks it downfield to Pinkston.

McNabb finds LJ Smith in the end zone for a 7 yard score. The first option was Terrell Owens, but he was jammed at the line. Smith did a great job fighting his way through the linebackers. Great play by the TE.

Can New England respond?

Turnover

Rodney Harrison stops the reciever short of the first down and holds him up for his mates in the secondary to come and strip the ball away for a turnover. Randall Gay knocks it loose and the Pats get the ball on their own 30 with under a minute left in the first.

Of course, this leads to yet another punt. Punt, punt, punt, punt.

Paul is dead

What the heck song is Paul going to sing at halftime? Will he do a Beatles song? My guess is "Live and Let Die" or "The Girl is Mine" with Michael Jackson via satelite. Scratch that Michael thing. The only Jackson we'll see on Fox is Randy.

A pick. No penalty.

It looks like Harrison got hurt making this play. He picked off McNabb at the three.

Smote?

OK, the next play is a loss of sixteen on a sack.

And then there's a pick by the Patriots, but it's nullified by an illegal contact penalty. I've never seen so many penalties against the Pats. Will this cost them?

TO

Owens makes an nice catch and run. Then he does a little celebration. The football gods may smite him for that.

Punt festival

Punt. Punt. Punt. Punt.

But at least we had a commerical with Burt Reynolds getting kicked in the jimmy by a dancing/talking bear. That groin kick was just for you, Will.

Fumble

14:08 left in the first quarter and the blitz causes a fumble. McNabb avoids the first hit, but not the second. Bruschi forces a fumble. It looks like Vrabel recovers.

Eagles challenge. They'll win it, but we won't find out until after the commericial break.

Yup. They win the challenge. They'll punt.

The Anthem

Please don't let Michael Douglas sing the anthem. Oh, he's just giving a long winded intro for the WWII vets.

Clinton and Bush have matching suits. Weird. And Michael Douglas has his suit misbuttoned. Top button only on a two button suit, Michael. Not the bottom one, dude. Even I know that.

The service academy choirs are singing the anthem. No showbiz crap. Good work again. Watch them ruin it with fireworks during the song or something...

Somehow they resisted. Wow.

Andy Reid

Jen says that Andy Reid looks like Chris Farley pretending to be Ditka.

The Pats come out to an intro from Michael Chiklis. What? Conan O'Brien's not available? Philly has Will Smith do the honors. the Pats come out to "Crazy Train", the Eagles have AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" They win with the celeb. It's a draw on the tunes.

I can't believe I'm analyzing that.

Prediction

The Greek says that Viniteri is going to win the game with a 47 yarder at the end. This is his claim ticket. I'm not saying anything.

Ray Charles at the Super Bowl?

I've always said that only Ray Charles should be allowed to open an event with America the Beautiful. I joked that they should have resurrected him and had him sing. Well, the folks at Alcor couldn't pull it off in time, so we've got Alicia Keys and the choir from Ray's alma mater instead. Good work, NFL. More classy moves? Where am I? We miss you, Ray.

Whoa, Ray on the video screen! Nice twist.

OK, the kids look like Blockbuster managers in their blue oxford shirts and khakis.

Are they plugging Ray's albums? That was crass. The yin/yang balance is returning....

Super Bowl Pregame

I'm watching the Super Bowl at John and Jen's house. I hadn't intended on blogging this, but The Greek gets what the Greek wants.

They just did a full recitation of the Declaration of Independence on the pregame show. That's the first time that I've ever heard the entire thing on TV. It was actually quite classy. This thing's on Fox? Weird.

Clinton and Bush Sr. should have their own sitcom. Bush is tired of Clinton bringing around the babes and having parties with Ted Kennedy.

Charlie Daniels is alive and he's not going to have a wardrobe malfunction. That giant belt buckle will make sure of that. Either that or he's the new WWE Smackdown champion.

Earth Wind and Fire are here. I wonder if Earthwind Moreland's mom is going nuts.

Eugene Levy! Physics! Football! It's like some sort of beautiful dream. OK, the funniest thing in the skit so far are Eugene Levy's eyebrows.

Mono no more

Mono no more, originally uploaded by nervda.

Jen and I were out running some errands today, when we stopped in at the hair salon to set up an appointment for our friend Y. Jen's trying to get him to get a more stylish haircut, and he's the type who's never paid more than 10 dollars for a haircut.

Anyhow, Jen's stylist was originally my stylist, but I don't see her anymore, as I cut my hair myself these days. But it was nice to chat for a bit. All of a sudden, Jen mentions that it might be nice if I got my eyebrow waxed. The stylists jumped on this and gently persuaded me to separate the longtime Siamese twins that are my eyebrows.

After a bit of wax and plucking, I've got two eyebrows for the first time in memory. The waxing didn't hurt as much as they make it seem in the movies. But then again, I run marathons and do kung fu. What's half a second of pain compared to a four hour run?

I'm still getting used to the new look. Now there are two caterpillars, as a opposed to one. And the lesson to be learned here is that Jen loves the male makeover. Consider yourself warned.

Commuting to an interview

Had a very good job interview today. I don't want to jinx it, I won't say much about it. I did however ride the commuter rail for the first time to get there though. It was uncrowded, as I was going the reverse direction of most commuter train riders as I started in the city and rode out to the burbs. The cars have very cushy padded seats and are comfortably warm, especially having to wait outside for 20 minutes to catch the train in the first place.

Train is really a great way to travel. It's possibly my favorite, as you can get somewhere and be productive reading a book or writing a letter all the while. Planes are too crowded. Cars make us all screaming maniacs. ("Watch where you're going, blue Camry! Get off the damn phone and drive!") And when was the last time you used a boat to get anywhere on a regular basis?

I'm very happy to live without having to drive to an office. Hopefully, I can find a job that lets me continue in that vein.

I know that we'll have to buy a car for the Chickpea's sake. You can't even take a baby home unless you have a car seat. The hell if I'm gonna buy a car seat and have no car! At first, we were thinking about buying a reliable used car, like an old Saab, Subaru or Honda, but then we found the Scion. You can get a new car for just a skotch more than a used one. And damn, if it isn't cool looking.

Of course, any car purchase will have to come after the acquistion of a new job, which brings right back around to the front of this post again. I'm not talking about it for jinx related purposes, remember?