Friday, March 1, 2013
The Cost of a Mystery
So I ordered a grab bag from one of those 'Daily Deal' sites and now nearly a month since I ordered it, I finally get to see what's inside. The concept of a grab bag is not new, and I've ordered from this company before, yet even in this day and age where endless amounts of information is available at a moment's notice, I still have no idea what to expect. The grab bag is probably one of the most pragmatic method of gambling today. There's the old adage "Buyer Beware", but that was probably coined by a pessimist bent on alliteration. Soon, I will be able to find out if if this 'Mystery Bag of Awesomness' is worth the $14.99 + $4.99 Shipping and Handling.
If I were to 100% believe the sales speak on the website, then the answer would be yes. The special thing about this grab bag is that in addition to the unspecified amounts of junk thrown into a cardboard box shipped from an undisclosed location to my doorstep, the vessel of choice, or rather the bag part of the grab bag is in fact a back pack. One of 3 styles as a matter of fact, only to add to the randomness that is this purchase. Now, according to the picture, these aren't some child size, dollar store backpacks direct from China made from discarded emergency poncho scraps. These actually seem like genuine, regular sized backpacks, but probably still from China because, hey, what isn't these days?
Slight digression. I was over visiting my parents last week and I mentioned to them how I bought something off eBay that would be shipping from China. My sentence wasn't phrased quite like that, so it more than likely sounded like "I bought something from China the other day for a dollar." This led my inquisitive 5 year old daughter to ask, "You went to China without me!?!?"
Ok. I'm back. Where was I? Oh yes, the backpack. It was the availability of this item compounded with the fact that it would be 'filled' with the unspecified amounts of junk that made me finally decide to purchase this item in the first place. For a little while now, I've been carrying a small 'sack pack' with me whenever I go out on a day trip. It's simply a nylon drawstring bag with the cording extended to serve as shoulder straps. Now, I know the idea is not new, but with such a simple design, it's a wonder why these things hadn't caught on sooner. I recently picked up a windbreaker/rain jacket that folds into itself and also serves as its own 'sack pack', but I'll save that for another blog entry. So anyway, my pack typically holds snacks for myself and the little one, a bottle of water, and any extraneous electronics and accompanying chargers/accessories either myself or my little one choose to bring along for our adventure. Lately, I've been finding that the sack pack, whereas very portable, lacks the back support a common backpack, especially weighed down with a lot of stuff.
One additional thing I'd like to point out is whereas the company would not divulge any specifics, they did mention that should they choose to include a t-shirt in your Mystery Bag of Awesomeness, they ask what size you would like to have and they'll 'do their best' to accommodate. A [possible] t-shirt and backpack for $20? Could be worse I suppose. The general consensus out there is that whatever you discard, you could use as a white elephant gift. Hey, works for me.
So, as I write this, my package is currently en route originating from a small town in Tennessee. The shipping details list the weight at 5.5 lbs. Not bad, how much does an empty backpack weigh? Not much. The most basic of backpacks with the obligatory large compartment and [somewhat less obligatory] smaller zippered pocket on the exterior has a shipping weight of (according to Amazon) 9.6 oz. That still leaves over 4 pounds of random stuff that I'll either relish or regift. So what's in this mystery box? We'll soon find out.
Stay tuned for my next post to see what I got in my Mystery Bag of Awesomeness.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
… By the Contents of the Man's Purse
Not too long ago, our neighbor had the battery of his car stolen overnight. The thief was either desperate, in a hurry or both because he not only stole the battery, but cut the cables attached to it. Despite the theft of a car battery, something else puzzled me. Why him? Why his car? I don’t know what kind of battery our neighbor had in his car, but his car was an early model Ford Taurus Wagon.
I remember watching the commercials on television, making the station wagon look glamorous and stylish. Let’s not forget the ample room and the cup holders. It was truly a utilitarian product. My brother and I thought it was the greatest thing on earth.
Fast forward 20 or so years, and I am still a fan of utilitarian products, all the better if their intended purpose is storage, for them to ample in that department. Earlier this year, my wife took a trip to Los Angeles with a couple of her girlfriends for a weekend adventure. I’ve always been smitten by the idea of airport gift shops. Despite the over priced wares, I find them to be a great way to kill time before the flight leaves. After saying goodbye to my wife, I was beckoned by one of these aforementioned stores with a lure of their versatility of products and signs near the entrance that declared ‘clearance’. It has been said that I am “penny wise, but pound foolish”, but nevertheless I am always on the lookout for a good deal.
I also had been on the lookout for a new case for my iPod, and since I’m also an avid user of public transit, all accompanying accessories including, but not limited to headphones, A/V cables and chargers. As mentioned before, I was drawn in the by the allure of clearance signs, a common occurrence which finds me in dark recesses of office supply stores and neighborhood markets, away from prying eyes.
Normally, I’d be remiss in finding the obvious comedy questioning the necessity of selling luggage in an airport, but after having jars of Midwestern Amish jam confiscated because it violated the TSA’s 3-1-1 rule not but months earlier. I can certainly see the validity of purchasing additional suitcases in an effort to retain those extra souvenirs. I digress.
On a rack, I saw a neon green bag. In the similar style, I also saw one in pink and one with polka dots. I checked the price tag. $2.50. Not a bad price. A deal is only as good as the comparison to the original price. On a nearby rack, the same product in a dark purple was $14. Obviously these hideous colors weren’t selling as well as their understated counterparts, hence the reason for the heavy discount. With a reinforced handle on the top and included adjustable shoulder strap, I deduced that this item was probably intended to be an ideal traveling shoulder bag, a fanny pack for the 21st century. I observed its features. 2 large main zippered compartments (ideal for holding my large noise-cancelling headphones and any necessary iPod cables. One small zippered pocket on the back, to provide quick and easy access to smaller, yet lesser used items. In the front there was a small mesh open pocket to probably hold a packet of gum or something. The feature that clinched the deal for me was the small zippered pocket on front of the bag, the perfect size to hold my iPod. This design choice was not made by accident. Personal accessory designers have been including small pouches like these because they provide quick and easy access to your entertainment device of your choosing whether it be an MP3 player or a wireless phone or something more low-tech like a deck of cards for example. All of which are approximately the same size.
Ever since I’ve had a car to call my own, I’ve kept an emergency kit in my trunk. Despite overheating engines, flat tires, running out of gas, a roadside mugging, and even spontaneous combustion, the item most often used in this kit is a pair of jumper cables. Wireless phones certainly come in handy as well, but during all those previous emergencies listed before, I did not own a phone. I could go on about how my parents paid for my sister to have a phone when she was in college and all she was doing was riding the bus. Mind you, she was meeting deadbeat mooches 12 years her senior and bringing them home to crash at Mom and Dad’s pad, but she didn’t need a phone for that.
Anyway, I’m getting off topic. One item I did include in my emergency kit that you wouldn’t find in any commercially available bundle is the deck of playing cards. I don’t know why they wouldn’t. It could add an additional 52 pieces to their collection, thus tricking the mild mannered consumer into getting even more than actually do. Have you noticed that? For instance, the automotive emergency kit advertises on its packaging of having 20 pieces. When you look at the list of items, it says it has 10 zip ties, 5 fuses, a flashlight with 2 batteries, the bag with the reflective triangle and some jumper cables. For those keeping track, it’s 20 pieces. I think I’ve proven my point.
Playing cards aren’t just for playing you. They’re there for you to play with them. Like what I did there? Aside from the obvious boredom buster of pulling up a rock or stump and huddling round playing a rousing game of “Go Fish” or if you’re stuck alone and friendless, Solitaire, a deck of playing cards has a very important survival role built in. For starters, if you’re stranded and there’s nary a bloodied volleyball to be found, you can find friendship in the face cards. With a little imagination, you could make up elaborate dramas and love triangles among the queens, jacks and kings. You could even speculate as to why the king of hearts is killing himself or what happened to a couple of the jacks’ other eyes.
What to do with the other cards you may ask. Well, given that most cards are made out of paper, albeit coated paper, theoretically you could use the cards to help start a fire. Maybe it’s the Eagle Scout in me, but I reckon they make for some pretty good kindling.
My sister recently graduated college, so we took a road trip to Las Cruces, New Mexico to spend a couple days with her surrounding the ceremony, load up her stuff from her apartment and drive back. My grandfather had unexpectedly passed away the month before and we all still miss him. I was named after him and I’ve been curious what other things I shared with him besides the name. As a career military man, he was very guarded, but not gruff or soulless. I just never knew him the way I would’ve liked to. I knew he liked to tinker, much like I do and his garage/workshop was a place of solitude for him. He was looking very much to going to the graduation, but unfortunately could not. My grandmother, despite his absence, still decided to go. Early in the morning we were to leave, I was helping my mom load her suitcases into the back of my grandparents’ car. There, in the trunk, were jugs of water in case he got stranded and his own version of an emergency kit. I didn’t see what was all in it, or know his reasons for what went into it, but on top there was one thing that caught my eye. It was a deck of playing cards. I knew then that he and I shared something without even communicating it to one another and for that, I will have an eternal bond with him.
I remember watching the commercials on television, making the station wagon look glamorous and stylish. Let’s not forget the ample room and the cup holders. It was truly a utilitarian product. My brother and I thought it was the greatest thing on earth.
Fast forward 20 or so years, and I am still a fan of utilitarian products, all the better if their intended purpose is storage, for them to ample in that department. Earlier this year, my wife took a trip to Los Angeles with a couple of her girlfriends for a weekend adventure. I’ve always been smitten by the idea of airport gift shops. Despite the over priced wares, I find them to be a great way to kill time before the flight leaves. After saying goodbye to my wife, I was beckoned by one of these aforementioned stores with a lure of their versatility of products and signs near the entrance that declared ‘clearance’. It has been said that I am “penny wise, but pound foolish”, but nevertheless I am always on the lookout for a good deal.
I also had been on the lookout for a new case for my iPod, and since I’m also an avid user of public transit, all accompanying accessories including, but not limited to headphones, A/V cables and chargers. As mentioned before, I was drawn in the by the allure of clearance signs, a common occurrence which finds me in dark recesses of office supply stores and neighborhood markets, away from prying eyes.
Normally, I’d be remiss in finding the obvious comedy questioning the necessity of selling luggage in an airport, but after having jars of Midwestern Amish jam confiscated because it violated the TSA’s 3-1-1 rule not but months earlier. I can certainly see the validity of purchasing additional suitcases in an effort to retain those extra souvenirs. I digress.
On a rack, I saw a neon green bag. In the similar style, I also saw one in pink and one with polka dots. I checked the price tag. $2.50. Not a bad price. A deal is only as good as the comparison to the original price. On a nearby rack, the same product in a dark purple was $14. Obviously these hideous colors weren’t selling as well as their understated counterparts, hence the reason for the heavy discount. With a reinforced handle on the top and included adjustable shoulder strap, I deduced that this item was probably intended to be an ideal traveling shoulder bag, a fanny pack for the 21st century. I observed its features. 2 large main zippered compartments (ideal for holding my large noise-cancelling headphones and any necessary iPod cables. One small zippered pocket on the back, to provide quick and easy access to smaller, yet lesser used items. In the front there was a small mesh open pocket to probably hold a packet of gum or something. The feature that clinched the deal for me was the small zippered pocket on front of the bag, the perfect size to hold my iPod. This design choice was not made by accident. Personal accessory designers have been including small pouches like these because they provide quick and easy access to your entertainment device of your choosing whether it be an MP3 player or a wireless phone or something more low-tech like a deck of cards for example. All of which are approximately the same size.
Ever since I’ve had a car to call my own, I’ve kept an emergency kit in my trunk. Despite overheating engines, flat tires, running out of gas, a roadside mugging, and even spontaneous combustion, the item most often used in this kit is a pair of jumper cables. Wireless phones certainly come in handy as well, but during all those previous emergencies listed before, I did not own a phone. I could go on about how my parents paid for my sister to have a phone when she was in college and all she was doing was riding the bus. Mind you, she was meeting deadbeat mooches 12 years her senior and bringing them home to crash at Mom and Dad’s pad, but she didn’t need a phone for that.
Anyway, I’m getting off topic. One item I did include in my emergency kit that you wouldn’t find in any commercially available bundle is the deck of playing cards. I don’t know why they wouldn’t. It could add an additional 52 pieces to their collection, thus tricking the mild mannered consumer into getting even more than actually do. Have you noticed that? For instance, the automotive emergency kit advertises on its packaging of having 20 pieces. When you look at the list of items, it says it has 10 zip ties, 5 fuses, a flashlight with 2 batteries, the bag with the reflective triangle and some jumper cables. For those keeping track, it’s 20 pieces. I think I’ve proven my point.
Playing cards aren’t just for playing you. They’re there for you to play with them. Like what I did there? Aside from the obvious boredom buster of pulling up a rock or stump and huddling round playing a rousing game of “Go Fish” or if you’re stuck alone and friendless, Solitaire, a deck of playing cards has a very important survival role built in. For starters, if you’re stranded and there’s nary a bloodied volleyball to be found, you can find friendship in the face cards. With a little imagination, you could make up elaborate dramas and love triangles among the queens, jacks and kings. You could even speculate as to why the king of hearts is killing himself or what happened to a couple of the jacks’ other eyes.
What to do with the other cards you may ask. Well, given that most cards are made out of paper, albeit coated paper, theoretically you could use the cards to help start a fire. Maybe it’s the Eagle Scout in me, but I reckon they make for some pretty good kindling.
My sister recently graduated college, so we took a road trip to Las Cruces, New Mexico to spend a couple days with her surrounding the ceremony, load up her stuff from her apartment and drive back. My grandfather had unexpectedly passed away the month before and we all still miss him. I was named after him and I’ve been curious what other things I shared with him besides the name. As a career military man, he was very guarded, but not gruff or soulless. I just never knew him the way I would’ve liked to. I knew he liked to tinker, much like I do and his garage/workshop was a place of solitude for him. He was looking very much to going to the graduation, but unfortunately could not. My grandmother, despite his absence, still decided to go. Early in the morning we were to leave, I was helping my mom load her suitcases into the back of my grandparents’ car. There, in the trunk, were jugs of water in case he got stranded and his own version of an emergency kit. I didn’t see what was all in it, or know his reasons for what went into it, but on top there was one thing that caught my eye. It was a deck of playing cards. I knew then that he and I shared something without even communicating it to one another and for that, I will have an eternal bond with him.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Restroom Conspiracy
Both of the urinals on my floor at work had 'Out of Order' signs on them yesterday. I was curious why because they seemed to have worked fine the day before, but I was more concerned with the fact that BOTH of them were out. I don't know much about plumbing, so I'm not going to make any assumptions about that. But given the fact that the rest of the toilets in the restroom, the kind that are sat upon, are in complete working order, I can only surmise that something is wrong with the urinals' automatic flushing device. I've long held a conspiracy theory that the electronic 'eye' that senses when the best time to trigger the automatic flushing device doesn't actually do that at all. Sometimes, when I enter the restroom, I see that the urinal is unflushed. How is this possible? Has someone found a way to beat the system? At the risk of sounding completely crazy, I will say that it may [trigger the mechanism], but at the very least, this is not the sole purpose of the aforementioned device.
I believe the electronic eye actually senses how long a mass is standing at the urinal and records the time to use in data collection for more devious plans. Now, my company is pretty 'Big Brother'-ish and I wouldn't put it past them to track how long their employees are using the urinals to determine how much productivity they're losing. Maybe they're using the data and it's part of a much bigger scale to see how long men across the country are standing in front of urinals and they'll use this time to create ultra-short advertising bits to show on video screens above the urinals. They already have print ads, what would keep them from having video? Because, every skeptic and pessimist you talk to (at least in my line of work) is that print is dying a very quick death and that video is the way to go.
I'm a little riled-up right now. I think I'll take a break before I let out a little bit more of my crazy.
I believe the electronic eye actually senses how long a mass is standing at the urinal and records the time to use in data collection for more devious plans. Now, my company is pretty 'Big Brother'-ish and I wouldn't put it past them to track how long their employees are using the urinals to determine how much productivity they're losing. Maybe they're using the data and it's part of a much bigger scale to see how long men across the country are standing in front of urinals and they'll use this time to create ultra-short advertising bits to show on video screens above the urinals. They already have print ads, what would keep them from having video? Because, every skeptic and pessimist you talk to (at least in my line of work) is that print is dying a very quick death and that video is the way to go.
I'm a little riled-up right now. I think I'll take a break before I let out a little bit more of my crazy.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
When It Rains, It Pours… From Upstairs
It has been said, "Life gets in the way when you're busy making other plans." I believe the original intention of that statement was intended to be more optimistic. I, however, can't help but apply this statement to a more negative slant. The plans could be for instance, paying down debt, having a good christmas and/or saving for a rainy day. Of course, in this economy, these goals, among others seem to be difficult.
Can I stop for a minute here? In today's society of instant gratification and Short Message Service (SMS) language creeping into everyday language, why do we bother to still say or even type out the phrase, "in this economy" or '"in today's economic climate"? The phrase itself is becoming part of vernacular. Why can't with abbreviate it too to the simple ITE? I hereby declare that this acronym will be used forthwith.
Now… where was I? Oh yes, life getting in the way. It also has been said that things happen in threes, and more often than not, these things are on the bad side. I guess it's fate's way of punishing you. Now, I could say the cycle began with the air conditioner in my house going out at the end of the summer. Not a bad thing per se, but since it's paired with the heater unit, it's unpleasant when the first real cold weather hits. I could say the cycle began [or continued] with the breaking of my eyeglasses, causing me to shell out more money to replace them. Instead, I think I'm going to say that this cycle of 3 started yesterday morning when my wife finished her shower before going into work.
I was lying there. Half awake, half asleep and I could hear the sound of running water. Our townhouse is over 30 years old, so the sound running water isn't all that uncommon, except when it is coming from your own house. Liz informed me that despite turning all of the faucet knobs into the 'off' position, water still continued to come out of the spout. There was a simple temporary fix to the whole thing and that was to turn off the water at the main. Liz's dad, a plumber by trade, came out that evening to assess the situation. After a brief time of diagnosing the issue, he and I hopped in my truck and drove down the street to The Home Depot to pick up some replacement stems.
Side Note: Our shower tub assembly is only about 5 years old. Prior to us moving in, the first-time homebuyer program we used goes in and does some minor rehab before letting us move in. This generally involves installing hardwired smoke detectors and other safety issues. One of the issues was that there was a leak and some subsequent water damage coming from the tub upstairs. In short, they replaced the fiberglass tub/shower assembly and metal framed glass doors with a traditional fiberglass tub with tiled walls. They also replaced all the hardware which included a stubby run-of-the-mill shower arm and a dollar store shower head.
The shower head coming out of my wall was at approximately 72" high which made the showerhead itself resting about 70" give or take. Being a human of approximately 74"-75" tall, I found this to be a minor inconvenience. Minor in the sense that I don't spend a lot of my life in the shower so I could live with it. Then again, something occurred to me. If I were to have a plumber rooting around the hardware of my tub and so long as I was in the plumbing section of the store, why not look for something that I could buy to alleviate my woes. I found a longer, snakier apparatus that extended the shower head well above my head as to make it seem like falling rain.
So we went home, and after a few minutes, the hardware was all replaced and water was coming out like a champ … except from the dollar store showerhead. Crap. Was it clogged? Was there not enough pressure? Liz's dad assured me that neither was the case. That's 2. So, it being Sunday night and all and I really wanted to take a shower, we hopped in the truck and drove down the street to Wal-Mart to pick up the almost greatest showerhead they carry. I say, $22 for a chrome look showerhead with7 6 settings (I don't consider 'trickle' a setting) is not bad in a pinch.
So we after Liz's parents went home, I turned on the shower and was got my hair wet when Liz came running upstairs telling me to turn the water off because it was flooding the laundry room/pantry which is directly below our tub. The water continued through to the kitchen and then on into the dining room. That's number 3 ladies and gentlemen. In a mad panic, we mopped up as much water as we could, we soaked it up with as many towels as we could and we moved all the stuff that was on the floor out to the patio. Liz took pictures with her phone and called the insurance company. Liz's parent's came back and brought more towels. My parents came with more towels and their shop vac. It was chaos.
The following morning, after we dried up all we could, the insurance company called us, walking us through the steps. We had a plumber come out and replaced the stems (again!) because the ones from The Home Depot were crap. A water mitigation came out with their industrial centrifugal blowers and place a half dozen of them around the house. 3 in the laundry room, 1 in the bathroom, and 2 in the master bedroom closet because the adjacent wall and carpet were wet. Now we have to have these things blowing for 96 hours straight.
I suppose things could be worse, but it's still really inconvenient. I'll let you know how everything turns out. Thanks for reading.
Can I stop for a minute here? In today's society of instant gratification and Short Message Service (SMS) language creeping into everyday language, why do we bother to still say or even type out the phrase, "in this economy" or '"in today's economic climate"? The phrase itself is becoming part of vernacular. Why can't with abbreviate it too to the simple ITE? I hereby declare that this acronym will be used forthwith.
Now… where was I? Oh yes, life getting in the way. It also has been said that things happen in threes, and more often than not, these things are on the bad side. I guess it's fate's way of punishing you. Now, I could say the cycle began with the air conditioner in my house going out at the end of the summer. Not a bad thing per se, but since it's paired with the heater unit, it's unpleasant when the first real cold weather hits. I could say the cycle began [or continued] with the breaking of my eyeglasses, causing me to shell out more money to replace them. Instead, I think I'm going to say that this cycle of 3 started yesterday morning when my wife finished her shower before going into work.
I was lying there. Half awake, half asleep and I could hear the sound of running water. Our townhouse is over 30 years old, so the sound running water isn't all that uncommon, except when it is coming from your own house. Liz informed me that despite turning all of the faucet knobs into the 'off' position, water still continued to come out of the spout. There was a simple temporary fix to the whole thing and that was to turn off the water at the main. Liz's dad, a plumber by trade, came out that evening to assess the situation. After a brief time of diagnosing the issue, he and I hopped in my truck and drove down the street to The Home Depot to pick up some replacement stems.
Side Note: Our shower tub assembly is only about 5 years old. Prior to us moving in, the first-time homebuyer program we used goes in and does some minor rehab before letting us move in. This generally involves installing hardwired smoke detectors and other safety issues. One of the issues was that there was a leak and some subsequent water damage coming from the tub upstairs. In short, they replaced the fiberglass tub/shower assembly and metal framed glass doors with a traditional fiberglass tub with tiled walls. They also replaced all the hardware which included a stubby run-of-the-mill shower arm and a dollar store shower head.
The shower head coming out of my wall was at approximately 72" high which made the showerhead itself resting about 70" give or take. Being a human of approximately 74"-75" tall, I found this to be a minor inconvenience. Minor in the sense that I don't spend a lot of my life in the shower so I could live with it. Then again, something occurred to me. If I were to have a plumber rooting around the hardware of my tub and so long as I was in the plumbing section of the store, why not look for something that I could buy to alleviate my woes. I found a longer, snakier apparatus that extended the shower head well above my head as to make it seem like falling rain.
So we went home, and after a few minutes, the hardware was all replaced and water was coming out like a champ … except from the dollar store showerhead. Crap. Was it clogged? Was there not enough pressure? Liz's dad assured me that neither was the case. That's 2. So, it being Sunday night and all and I really wanted to take a shower, we hopped in the truck and drove down the street to Wal-Mart to pick up the almost greatest showerhead they carry. I say, $22 for a chrome look showerhead with
So we after Liz's parents went home, I turned on the shower and was got my hair wet when Liz came running upstairs telling me to turn the water off because it was flooding the laundry room/pantry which is directly below our tub. The water continued through to the kitchen and then on into the dining room. That's number 3 ladies and gentlemen. In a mad panic, we mopped up as much water as we could, we soaked it up with as many towels as we could and we moved all the stuff that was on the floor out to the patio. Liz took pictures with her phone and called the insurance company. Liz's parent's came back and brought more towels. My parents came with more towels and their shop vac. It was chaos.
The following morning, after we dried up all we could, the insurance company called us, walking us through the steps. We had a plumber come out and replaced the stems (again!) because the ones from The Home Depot were crap. A water mitigation came out with their industrial centrifugal blowers and place a half dozen of them around the house. 3 in the laundry room, 1 in the bathroom, and 2 in the master bedroom closet because the adjacent wall and carpet were wet. Now we have to have these things blowing for 96 hours straight.
I suppose things could be worse, but it's still really inconvenient. I'll let you know how everything turns out. Thanks for reading.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Bad Karma? Bad Timing? Bad Luck?
"I've got this thing in my freezer and I don't know how to cook it."
The conversation with my friend and workmate, Tony started innocently enough. A frozen beef tip roast has been sitting in my freezer taking up valuable space and despite my collection of cookbooks, none of them has been able to provide me with a simple enough, yet worthy recipe of how I may prepare it. I figured, if anybody, a fellow carnivore may be able to share some insights, perhaps those involving carbon and a little flame. However, the conversation didn't go that way. At least, not at first…
"Dead Cat"
The comment elicited a snicker from Tony. As an amateur humorist, I took this as a cue to go on.
"Yeah… I've still got the collar and everything. It reads, 'Alice'."
Now, this comment (as I was hoping it would) elicited a response from Tony's cubicle neighbor, Maria. The whole reason I said it was because I know she'd be listening and she has a cat named Alice. Maria is also a friend of mine and part of my personality is to tease people about things like that. Morally wrong, I know, but it's all in good fun and generally received as such.
Maria did say that Alice has been getting out recently where she is predominantly an indoor cat. Not wanting to waste an opportunity to keep the bit going, I continued.
"Yeah, it's a long walk for her from Buckeye to my house in Mesa. No wonder she was so tired walking in the middle of the street."
I wrapped it up shortly after that, not wanting to overstay my welcome and we all had to get back to work. I did ask Tony however, if he had any ideas how to cook the beef tip roast I had in my freezer. Being a fellow carnivore, and fan of food, not to mention being 15 years my senior, I thought he could impart some culinary wisdom. Not so. He apologetically said to me that he was better at eating food than cooking it. I made another joke at his expense about not knowing how to microwave popcorn and walked back to my desk.
The following day, on my way over to my desk to start the day, Tony motioned me over to his desk. Maria wasn't there, but I hadn't noticed. He told me that my timing couldn't have been worse. Perplexed by the comment, I asked him why. He told me that Maria's cat, Alice was hit by a car that morning and she went home. I'm not completely soulless, but part of me couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer irony of the whole thing.
Maria's parting words to Tony were, "Be sure to give Glenn a hard time about this," but he too, was laughing at the irony. I know what its like to lose a pet by way of vehicle and I am still sad about it almost 3 years later. After all that, I'm still left with a frozen hunk of beef, shrink-wrapped and taking up valuable space in my freezer. I'll cook it one of these days, I just don't know how…
The conversation with my friend and workmate, Tony started innocently enough. A frozen beef tip roast has been sitting in my freezer taking up valuable space and despite my collection of cookbooks, none of them has been able to provide me with a simple enough, yet worthy recipe of how I may prepare it. I figured, if anybody, a fellow carnivore may be able to share some insights, perhaps those involving carbon and a little flame. However, the conversation didn't go that way. At least, not at first…
"Dead Cat"
The comment elicited a snicker from Tony. As an amateur humorist, I took this as a cue to go on.
"Yeah… I've still got the collar and everything. It reads, 'Alice'."
Now, this comment (as I was hoping it would) elicited a response from Tony's cubicle neighbor, Maria. The whole reason I said it was because I know she'd be listening and she has a cat named Alice. Maria is also a friend of mine and part of my personality is to tease people about things like that. Morally wrong, I know, but it's all in good fun and generally received as such.
Maria did say that Alice has been getting out recently where she is predominantly an indoor cat. Not wanting to waste an opportunity to keep the bit going, I continued.
"Yeah, it's a long walk for her from Buckeye to my house in Mesa. No wonder she was so tired walking in the middle of the street."
I wrapped it up shortly after that, not wanting to overstay my welcome and we all had to get back to work. I did ask Tony however, if he had any ideas how to cook the beef tip roast I had in my freezer. Being a fellow carnivore, and fan of food, not to mention being 15 years my senior, I thought he could impart some culinary wisdom. Not so. He apologetically said to me that he was better at eating food than cooking it. I made another joke at his expense about not knowing how to microwave popcorn and walked back to my desk.
The following day, on my way over to my desk to start the day, Tony motioned me over to his desk. Maria wasn't there, but I hadn't noticed. He told me that my timing couldn't have been worse. Perplexed by the comment, I asked him why. He told me that Maria's cat, Alice was hit by a car that morning and she went home. I'm not completely soulless, but part of me couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer irony of the whole thing.
Maria's parting words to Tony were, "Be sure to give Glenn a hard time about this," but he too, was laughing at the irony. I know what its like to lose a pet by way of vehicle and I am still sad about it almost 3 years later. After all that, I'm still left with a frozen hunk of beef, shrink-wrapped and taking up valuable space in my freezer. I'll cook it one of these days, I just don't know how…
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Update
The holster and memory card arrived via FedEx in a larger than anticipated box a day earlier than expected. So far, I am quite happy with it. It's less cumbersome than my previous bag and despite the fact that it cannot hold my additional lens, it can still hold a lot. Speaking of holding a lot, the memory card is freakin' huge (in capacity). I adjusted my camera's settings to "JPEG Fine" from "JPEG Normal" to increase the quality should I ever want to blow anything up to poster size and the memory card still shows that I have 1,000 pictures available. Oh well, more from me later. I just wanted to share that with you all. Have fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)