Carl & Me

A lot of people don't know much about me. That's because I'm pretty shy, quiet and am a real shrinking violet.

But my friend Carl knows me pretty well. We like to talk about our feelings, government policy, our dreams, pending Senate regulatory committee activity and our aspirations. Plus, he's really hot. That's him right over there.

Here's the last email he sent me:

Thank you for contacting me about video game regulations. I am glad you shared your concerns with me.

Following the Columbine High School shooting in 1999, attention was drawn to the increasing amount of violence to which youth are exposed. As a result, President Clinton ordered a Federal Trade Commission (FTC) study of the rating and labeling systems, as well as the marketing practices, of the video game, recording, and motion picture industries. This study found that while efforts were being made to label products containing indecent material, these products were still being marketed to minors. The FTC survey also found that in many cases retailers were not refusing to sell such products to children under 17. A follow-up FTC report, conducted at the request of Congress in 2001, found that the video game and motion picture industries had scaled back their targeting of minors in ads.

Current video game ratings systems are managed by private companies. In 1994, the Entertainment Software Rating Board developed a system that divides games into five age-based categories. Under this system, video game retailers who restrict sales to minors do so on a voluntary basis. It is ultimately up to parents to monitor what their children are buying.

As you may know, Senator Hilary Clinton introduced the Family Entertainment Protection Act (FEPA, S.2126) on December 16, 2005. FEPA would criminalize the sale or rental of video games with ratings of Mature or Adults Only to people under the age of 17. In addition, FEPA would require the FTC to perform an annual review of the ratings system. This bill has been referred to the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation where it awaits further consideration. Thank you again for writing. Should this issue come before the full Senate, I will be sure to keep your views in mind.

Sincerely,

Hot Carl Levin
Keep on rocking!

Okay, I may have added that last part.

But you can totally tell we're really close friends. Maybe he can come over to my house some time and we could play Grand Theft Auto or Madden football together.

TomKat Delivers Lil' Kitten

In case you missed it, Tom & Katie pulled the ultimate PR coup. They delivered their litter before Brangelina and the premiere of Mission Impossible 3. Still think this wasn't planned?

They've named the anklebiter Suri. While it's being widely reported in the media that Suri means either Princess (in Hebrew) or red rose (in Persian), they're all getting it wrong.

Suri means "crazy" in Wookie.

If karma is the harsh mistress I expect her to be, Katie will be up and around and silently suffering from postpartum depression in no time.

For Suri's sake, let's hope her parents' height and talent are recessive genes. Ah, they'll be separated before Suri is potty trained anyway. With any luck, that'll minimize the damage they can do to her. Pray for boarding school, Suri.

I Get Paid to Talk

I've had corporate shilling on my mind quite a bit lately. Probably because I just saw Thank You For Smoking. (The book is Christopher Buckley's best). And it's what I do for my appointed wage-earning toil.

There's a great scene in TYFS where the character Nick Naylor is talking to his son's class about what he does for a living. A little girl pipes up with, "My Mommy said cigarettes are bad for you."

He responds with, "Is your Mommy a doctor?"

"No."

"Is she a scientist?"

"No."

"She doesn't sound like a very credible expert then, does she?"

I almost wet my pants. It was great to see Nick use rhetoric and logic to manipulate people.

As an admirer and mangler of the English language, I've been paying particular attention lately to corpspeak and Engfish and ways we inveigle, miscontrue and obfuscate. I particularly enjoy when we change words to make them into advertising lingo. Crap like incredelicious, crunchtastic or chickenriffic. It sure seems to happen most often for food product introductions rather than other items or goods.

Now I don't usually watch commercials thanks to the life altering technology that is TIVO. So when I heard a Kraft commercial this morning using EMF's Unbelievable, I completely vapor locked. It's for Kraft Crumbles and uses the line "It's crumb-believable." Ow, is that smelly.

I wonder if Kraft knows that EMF stands for Epsom Mad Funkers?

At least they found a use for all those cheese bits that wobble out of the machines and fall on the floor.

Feel free to submit your most hated (or loved) made up advertising language words.

Oh The Humanity

The West Michigan Whitecaps had a swell promotion Saturday at the old ballpark. They used a helicopter to drop $1000 in cash for kids between the age of 5 and 12.

Except a couple of 7 year olds got trampled and had to go to the hospital. Never come between a 12 year old and his cash. Don't worry, both kids were okay with only minor injuries.

My favorite part of this story, however, is the fine sympathetic response of the team. I mean just because it was their event at their park, you don't really think they're going to take any responsibility do you?

Instead they went with this: "It's for fun and games," spokeswoman Katie Kroft said. "This is why we have everybody sign a waiver."

Oh, they've got a waiver. Well then it's okay that you got a couple of little kids trampled. I'm sure that waiver will keep you from getting sued by some ambulance chaser. Thank goodness there weren't any Easter Eggs in the outfield.

For some reason, the ballpark incident made me think of Les Nessman describing the action as turkeys plummet to the ground for WKRP's Thanksgiving Day promotion. I hope ya'll are old enough to get that reference because it made for truly hilarious tv.

Happy Pagan Chicken Embryo Day

I'm outta here tomorrow thanks to the benevolent taskmasters at my appointed toil. Yes, we actually get Friday off.

We are given respite to enjoy the rebirth of nature in the Great Grey North. That means the huge piles of snow in the corners of all the parking lots are finally melting.

Just a bit of advice.

If you're going to hide eggs, make sure you count how many you hid. Otherwise, you'll have another hunt in a few months. But this one you'll do mostly with your nose.

Now where did all those Peeps go?

Ending Women's Suffrage

Some wise guys went to the Padua Academy with a video camera and a bold idea.

They wanted to see if the female students would sign a petition to end women's suffrage. Unfortunately, suffrage is the right to vote. Yes, they were asking young girls to sign a petition to keep themselves from voting.

And it's all online.

Padua describes itself on its site as "where girls with dreams become women of vision." I'm betting there are some Delaware parents who fork over $7,200 a year for their precious Catholic daughters to get a decent education who are asking some very difficult questions for the Poli Sci instructor right now.

I'm not sure what is most disturbing:

• Young girls will sign anything if you have a video camera (though this does explain the phenomenon of Girls Gone Wild)
• Peer pressure is hell
• Catholic schools aren't teaching real science much less political science
• The interweb greatly enhances your ability to look like a dummy (this blog included as exhibit A)
• At least this is better than dropping out

Do you think this is funny? Scary? Disturbing? Indicative of the decline of Western civilization?

That being said, it's not too early to apply. I do, however, feel a lot better about my neice who went to private school and is now studying to be a massage therapist. Yeah, she's going to need trigonometry in her daily life.

Curse You, Ben & Jerry

It's officially over for a lot of people. Ben and Jerry are releasing a new flavor of ice cream.

Black and Tan

I wish I were making it up, but it's true. Beer flavored ice cream.

I think I'm going to need to buy a bigger belt. Better yet, just completely give in and switch to sweat pants.

Can wine flavored cream be far behind?

Here are some other ideas for flavors to let us combine some of our favorite vices:

• Bacon Bomb
• Merlot Moo
• Screwdriver Swirl (powered by Absolut)
• Gin & Cream
• Drunky Monkey (Banana Rum flavored, of course)
• Coors Cream
• Zinfandel Zoom
• Budweiser Brickle
• Rooty Tooty Reisling
• Super Margarita Man
• Mary's Bloody Bomb Pop
• Pina Colada Pop
• Rum & Cokesicle
• Lick-a-Labatt's
• Melting Molson Moments

Feel free to submit your own great flavors, kids!

The Taxman Cometh

Wife and I sat down this weekend and plowed through the wonderful, fabulous process of reminding ourselves how much we love being an American. That's right, we did our taxes on the old 'puter and ciphered out how much we owed the guv'ment for our cover charge to be patriotic citizens. I had purposely put it off because I had a feeling that we'd owe this year. Boy was I right.

We got killed this year. We owe literally thousands of dollars to the Feds. I can honestly say that I did not use that much national defense last year.

Now I do not consider myself a wealthy man (other than in my life choices of course), but I'm not starving on the streets. I can afford my mortgage and have enough money left over for the odd electronic trinket when I feel the compulsive need to go to Best Buy.

I'm reminded of a line from Friends. When Rachel gets her first paycheck she asks, "Who is this guy FICA and why is he taking all my money?"

That being said, I got a couple of hundred bucks from the State. How that is possible is beyond me. So apparently, I'm using a lot of Federal Services but not so much from Michigan. It makes no sense.

I do think I'm going to take my state loot and go to the indian reservation and parlay it into nothing. Or buy Lotto tickets. Both smart strategic investments.

Did everybody get killed this year or was it just my lucky turn?

Bodice Rippers

There's an article online called Erotica Finds Home in Mainstream Publishing which I just don't get. Go ahead and plow through it. If you can't possibly pry yourself away from here (and I can certainly understand how that could happen), let me sum up for you, because there is no time to explain, Inigo Montoya.

• A woman started writing erotica (not porn) for other women.
• The protagonista in these erotic stories is a woman.
• They sold these books over the interweb.
• Old, boring, publishers like Avon and Halequin are now horning in on the action.

The writer seems surprised to find out that sex sells. Even on the internet. Yeah, no one saw that coming despite the fact that every technology enhancement in the past 100 years has been co-opted by porn. Printing = dirty books/magazines. Video tape players = dirty movies. HDTV = High Def Porn.

What I took away from that story is that the names of the characters in these books are complete bullshit. The names used in the four stories discussed are: Karessa, Vienna and Trista. Is it a rule that the names in these books always have to end in a vowel? I know no one by these names. Of course I don't know an Iman, Tyra or Madonna either.

Is it still incomprehensible to the average person that women could enjoy something erotic too? Have the Chippendale's been forgotten that easily. Men in strip clubs look at women like a lion looks at a gazelle. Women look at male dancers like a pack of wolves look at a wounded deer.

Or is it a big deal because it's a woman doing it? I thought we were past all that. I know Katie is going to host the CBS Evening News. Who cares? Has anyone noticed how well the Today Show alum do when they leave: Bryant Gumble, Jane Pauley, Deborah Norville? These aren't exactly wildly successful career arcs post the morning gig.

Isn't the whole deal that when we quit pointing out that it's being done by someone new and different, we're through the issue? It's like when we quit identifying Donovan McNabb as a black quarterback and he's just a quaterback. Katie isn't going to be a female anchor, she's just an anchor.

My department is 85% women. So I can tell you it's no big thing when a woman gets to be in charge around here.

Luckily I will always be Chief Vermin Officer Waste Disposal Pledge at my house. That means I get to kill bugs and take out the garbage. It's a lifetime appointment too so I can pretty much coast.

Baseball Has Been Barry Barry Good To Me

I'll confess to not watching much of the basketball festivities last night. First, the game stunk as UCLA (that's pronounced yew kleh) never seemed to have their act in gear. Second, it was more fun to watch the fans in San Diego torment Barry Bonds.

People had some great signs:

• Bonds First in Hall of Shame
• Barr-Roids
• Huge Head, Tiny Bat, Tiny Balls
• *

I wish I'd have been the guy who just put an asterisk on a sign. Man, that's genius.

Someone even threw a syringe onto the field. I couldn't see a needle, but you could clearly see the plastic injector thingee. And when Bonds picked it up off the field of play, it was awesome.

And that's just San Diego. Can you imagine what's going to happen in Chicago, New York or Philadelphia? In Philly, they booed Santa Claus at an Eagles game. This looks to be a very long year for Mr. Bonds and the rest of the team.

I still want to market a shirt that says Will Rogers Never Met Barry Bonds.

Play ball, Barry.

Oh, and I forgot. Barry's tv show is on tonight. On the duece, it's Barry on Barry. Because he won't talk to the media, he's going to do his own reality tv show. That makes sense. Use the media so you don't have to talk to the media.

Now in a professional sense, I've got to admire his blatant hijacking of the media process. The professional media keeps asking him the wrong questions (ie. about his cheating, his steroids, his being an asshole) so he'll do it himself.

I have it on good authority that he cries during the first episode. I can't wait to see the kinder, gentler Barry Bonds. Who sits in his recliner in the clubhouse and watches his big screen tv and makes sure his people keep the rest of the Giants away from him.

And if you feel too sorry for Barry, his theatrics and his ability to whip up some tears on cue. Just remember that when he feels bad, he can go home and rest his ginormous steroid-swollen head on a big pile of money.

Hey did you hear they were going to Barry Bonds Bobblehead night? They wouldn't bobble because the head was too big.

Put Me In Coach, I'm Ready to Play

So it begins....

If you've forgotten, we begin the national pastime today. Yes, the sport that claims to be America's Game is upon us once again. No, I'm not talking about football dammit.

Today (okay last night) is Opening Day. That's right d-a-y. It's supposed to be played during the day. No one ever heard of Opening Night despite what the White Sox and Indians were doing last night on ESPN2. That's right, it was on the duece. That means it definitely doesn't count. And the rain delay, God pissing on Comiskey Park.

Opening Day is for optimists. Everyone thinks they still have a chance. Wait till next year is now. No one has had their hopes and dreams for a post season crushed yet. Even the Detroit Tigers who have had a losing record for the last 12 years. That's right, twelve years. Ever since Illich bought this team, they stunk.

And even though the Tigers open play on the road (and it's a good thing because it's sleeting here right now) with the lowly Royals, they've not been mathmatically eliminated from playoff contention. That'll come in May.

Opening Day in Detroit is an unofficial holiday. Everyone skips work and goes to the game. Where they typically freeze as it's early April. If you're lucky, it'll make 50. That's without the wind. If you do have to work, invariably someone will figure out how to get a tv feed so you can watch while pretending to work.

If it's wrong to hope for an earthquake that destroys both the Chicago White Sox and the Indians, I don't want to be right. That'll just leave Minnesota to worry about and that's plenty for the Tabbies.

It's the smell of ballpark hot dogs mingling with cut grass and stale beer. The sound of the umps and the vendors. Emerging from the concourse into the field proper and being dazzled by the grass, the white of the bags and foul lines stretching into infinity. It's the crack of the bat, the pop of the glove, the bang bang of a throw to first and the runner hitting the base while everyone holds their breath for the ump's signal. Crappy organ music during the 7th inning stretch. Little kids with mitts learning how to score a game on the program insert. Double headers. Fireworks after homers. Walking on peanut shells. Talking with strangers just because they're seated next to you. The thrill of having the bases loaded. Using body English to try to keep a ball fair.

Play ball.

Still Friends?

We've run the gamut of Spring Break mayhem here all week: drinking, wet t-shirt contests, kidnapping, stupidity. But all good things must come to an end. You have to say goodbye to that stranger you macked with when you were wasted and the bar closed and kicked you out.

And it's over for Matt LeBlanc and his wife of three years Melissa LeBlanc nee McKnight. Wow, three years. That's even longer than Joey is going to be on the air.

Why are they getting divorced? No reasons are given in the flacktivity propogated by their respective spokespersons, but I've got a few ideas:

• She's seen his show (with a tip of the cap to my wife who came up with that one on the spot last night while watching the news)
• Endlessly suggesting threesomes with Matthew Perry
• That cute "How You Doon?" line not quite so cute every morning for three straight years
• Constant insistance that orangutangs could play baseball
• When depressed whines that he should have stuck to fighting crime with "The Angels"
• Whenever he misplaces keys, insists they are Lost.....In Space
• Random musings about the undiscovered genius of Married With Children's lesser known characters
• Yelled out "Rachel" while making love
• Dressing up in her clothes "for research"
• Always wants to drive because "he's a pilot"

Okay, two Lost in Space jokes is piling on. I'm sorry. No word on whether this split counts as being on a break.

And if you've had the misfortune to see all of those Matt LeBlanc projects, you need help, my friend.

Ransom of Red Chief

I wrote earlier about how you need to be careful on Spring Break so you don't get kidnapped. They even have road signs to warn you. Apparently, they need some of those signs in Gallatin, Tennessee.

William Ellis (who has an Uncle who uses the name "Fly" and while that's just asking for trouble how cool would it be to have an Uncle Fly?), was kidnapped after armed gunmen broke into his house. Initial ransom demands were $20,000 for William's release.

During 24 hours of negotiations, the ransom demand kept get lowered. "As time passed, it was turning into a frustrated situation and they just beat on me a little bit more, and it got to a point where they was tired of wasting time," Ellis said.

I can only imagine how those phone calls must have gone. "Oh, twenty. Man, that's going to be tough because I don't get paid until next Friday. You keep him for a while more and I'll make a few calls and see what I can do."

"Hey, you're calling again? I thought I was supposed to be calling you. Oh, that's right. I don't have your number. I made some calls but nothing is really happening because a lot of people aren't around at this time of night but I've got a really good NCAA bracket and I'm optimistic. Give me a few hours and I'll call you back. Oh, yeah, that's right. Okay, I'll hear from you then."

"Hey, this isn't happening. I can't find a guy who owes me money. So...um..I guess he's yours. Good luck."

Finally the kidnappers talked to Ellis' sister. She must have the gift of gab because the kidnappers released Ellis after that.

The kidnappers take from this whole caper? Twenty-three dollars stolen when they initially broke into the house.

No word on whether General Motors is hiring the Ellis family to handle their negotiations with the United Auto Workers. Hope they don't need to beat on them a little bit more.

You Know I Can't Dance

A linebacker for the Philadephia Eagles, Dhani Jones, was arrested early Sunday morning for getting jiggy with it outside a vogue South Beach nightclub in Miami, Florida. Dhani probably thinks he a le freak, but he's really just a cool jerk.

Jones was shaking his groove thing outside the Snatch Rock & Roll Bar and Lounge at 2:51 am early Sunday morning. He was getting down tonight with an unidentified woman and several others who were into the groove and dancing in the street. Police told Jones this was not the land of 1000 dances and that this was his last dance and that he would have to take his celebration over to the YMCA. Jones responded that it was his prerogative that he needed more, more, more and that he was just boogie, oogie, oogieing to the music. Jones continued to push it, shout, rock the boat and didn't stop till he got enough.

That was a straight up misdemeanor for failure to obey a lawful command.

The Dancing Queen with Jones was smart enough to locomote out of the way of the Love Train that was due in the vicinity all night long, all night.

Jones is awaits arraignment at his brick house in Funkytown. His attorney, Louie Louie, said Jones never can say goodbye once he wants to dance with somebody. He alleges that police rang his bell causing a love hangover which required treatment from Doctor Love. The injuries may no longer allow Jones to get it up and feel like a sex machine and take his time and do it right. Luckily, Jones will survive after police left him this way.

Wow, that's 33 lame musical reference by my count. Unless I got it twisted or upside down the way I like it (that's the way). It's gonna make you sweat if you can't finally find them all and be the first, the last and my everything. The forecast is for it to start raining men so play that funky music, white boy. Ain't no stopping us now.

Spring Break Shenanigans

It's good to see that even though everyone goes to Florida on Spring Break, some folks from Michigan can still manage to get in trouble. Seems a couple of Michigan DJ's are being prosecuted for misdemeanor disorderly conduct.

Christopher Scott and Louis Green were running a wet t-shirt contest as an establishment called Hammerhead Fred's in Panama City, Florida. It's hard to tell whether this place is more of a nightclub or a restaurant, but I certainly wouldn't order the crabs.

A citizen of Panama City complained to local police that Spring Break festivities inside Fred's included Live Sex Acts (you always have to capitalize that phrase). No mention of who the wet blanket is because presumably everyone else in Hammerhead Fred's would kick his ass. The original complaint alleged that the contest had females up there performing "oral sex on one another" according to Bay County sheriff's Capt. Rickie Ramie.

"I just came here for a nice meal and then all these women started flashing me and I couldn't enjoy my grouper sandwich anymore." It's a shame a few bad apples have to ruin a good time for everyone.

Undercover officers were dispatched to the location of the complaint. And I can just imagine how the volunteers were chosen for that assignment. "All right, listen up. We've got a complaint of live sex acts at a bar here in town. Any volunteers to investigate? Anyone? C'mon guys, someone has to check this out."

Once the contest started, all hell broke loose. "The women were encouraged to remove the t-shirts, expose themselves, and allow the audience to fondle them and bite their nipples," wrote Tara Roberts of the Panama City Community Site. And if I'm running the Panama City Community Site, I'd be posting this too. I can't think of anything that would help tourism more, but please, no biting!

According to the DJ's, a woman on stage exposed herself (skin to win) after which undercover officers arrested "just about anybody within reach." Best part of that story? Written by Joe Snapper. Wouldn't you assign Joe Snapper to write any story with a seafood element?

No word on who won the contest, however, both Diana Chang (23 of Naperville, IL) and Jacquein Strong (17, of Orange Beach, AL) were taken into custody. She's just 17 (and you know what I mean)? Put her down, Jerry Lee. That means two things: she had both a fake id and fabulous breasticles. Chang is reportedly either a current of former student of the University of Illinois. Hopefully, she's majoring in Dance so this can be good for some class credits.

Now I don't know the nuances of this area of the law (darn). But Diana was arrested for lewd and lascivious conduct while Jacquein was arrested for nudity, indecent conduct at an establishment serving food. Is this a permit issue? Driving with a load not properly tied down perhaps? One is lewd and lascivious while one is nude and indecent around food. What could possible be the hair splitting going on around here? Maybe that's it. Maybe no hair nets were involved and it's really a hygiene issue.

Try not to expose yourself in public kids. But if you do, we can always play the video backwards and it'll look like you're coming to your senses.

Spring Break Safety Tips

The great thing about working for The Man at a large jumbotronic dronefarm is that periodically you receive stuff that is in no way intended to be funny yet really is. This is one of those times.

We were recently sent a Power Point presentation with all sorts of tips (many many tips, Lloyd Dobler) about how to be safe over Spring Break.

See if you can tell which ones I made up and which ones are designed to protect us Little Brains so we can return and continue to work for The Man. Yes, that sign over there is an actual visual from the presentation and not something I made up. I still prefer the "Prison Area - Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers" sign a bit better. Especially Those In Striped Jump Suits is a possible addemdum.

Here We Go:

If Flying or Cruising, protect yourself and prevent the spread of communicable diseases (Norovirus, Avian Influenza, etc.) with hand hygiene as the focus of infection control.

Wash your hands after:
-using a toilet
-coughing or sneezing into hands
-vomiting in a toilet after the margarita contest
-engaging in any activity that may have contaminated hands
-giving a "high-jacking" so as to become a member of the Mile High Club
-touching dirty whores
-signing any waiver and exposing yourself for a movie camera

Wash your hands before:
-handling food
-eating or drinking
-smoking
-masturbating
-brushing teeth
-engaging in any activity that involves hand-to-mouth contact (including but not limited to blowjobs)
-screaming "I'm so wasted" and exposing yourself to complete strangers (with or without cameras)

Wash your hands frequently throughout the day even if you think they don’t need to be washed. Once you are asked if you suffer from an obsessive compulsive disorder, you need to wash your hands just a bit more.

Driver Safety in Urban or Foreign areas:

-Always lock your car doors while driving, and keep the windows up to keep others from reaching inside or your children escaping from your Hell on Wheels.
-At stop signs and lights keep the car in gear and stay alert. Don't stop, you fool! Can't you see they're after all your money. It's not paranoia, it's safety!
-Travel well-lighted, busy streets. The busier, the better. Ideally, a street should be so busy that you actually don't move at all.
-Keep your purse and other valuables out of sight. Ask your wife to hide her head in your lap for safety.
-Park in safe well lighted areas near your destination. Ideally, an airport runway.
-Always lock your car, even for a short absence. Otherwise, they'll find the drifter's body.
-Never pick up a hitchhiker. Especially one wearing a striped jump suit (discussed more fully above). Whores are still okay to pick up.
-Always keep a way out between you and the vehicle in front of you while stopped. What did we tell you about stopping? Knock it off already.

I'm sure there are other safety tips you can think up. Don't be shy about keeping us all safe while you're on Spring Break.

Meanwhile, I'll be hear slaving while you're off having fun. Dammit, don't I have any vacation left?

Pretty As A

I did more than just watch my brackets go up in flames this weekend. I also posted my Cayman Island pix on Flickr.

Go here if you want to torment yourself with tranquil beaches and beautiful water.

Bracketology

Are you watching? Do you already have the madness? How many brackets have you filled out already? Do it all the way to the Final Four or round by round or both? I think I've got about 4 brackets going with only 1 a round by round pick.

After yesterday, I'm 13/16. Seton Hall fucked me. But then I should know better than to listen to Dick Vitale.

I don't know any workplace that doesn't have a pool going. But don't believe that it's costing business an estimated 3.8 billion dollars in lost productivity. That's the number estimated by the Department of Statistics We Pulled Out of Our Ass. Because if employees didn't have the NCAA tourney to dick around with, they certainly couldn't find anything else to keep from doing their work. Like reading blogs.....

Oh, and happy St. Patrick's Day. Erin Go Braughless. What does Erin go Braugh really mean? It's the anglicized version of the Gaelic phrase which means Ireland Forever. Sort of a Mick version of Semper Fi. Don't drink too much green beer kids!

Get Into the Groove

Who's got the funk? I've got the funk. Just can't seem to get back into the swing of working for the Man.

I think my body has been climatized to the circardian rhythm of ocean waves, Red Stripes and reading in the sun. It has been a major chore to complete my appointed toil. I've been sitting in meetings non-stop since my returing and zoning out while I ponder who I would vote off my island.

Hopefully the onset of March Madness and the task of trying to track four NCAA brackets simultaneously will snap me out of my funk.

I don't think it helps that when you go on vacation, your work just sits. It's there waiting for you, growing larger and ever larger. Just like the dust bunnies under your bed. The longer it goes on, the worse the clean up will be.

At least I'm doing to 51 emails after three days--the power of multi-crapping during conference calls. My favorite trick to not pay attention, "I'm sorry, the phone cut out, can you repeat that question." An oldie but a goodie.

I wonder what's the longest amount of time you could be completely worthless at work and have no one notice? It may be 30 years for a few folks.

Hell & Back Again

I'm baaaaaaa-aaack. And no, despite what you may think, it wasn't a long time. Barely enough to regain my sanity (such as it is). Don't blame me. Delta only flies to the Caymans on Tuesdays and Saturdays. We were there 11 days. Since 2 were travel days that really shouldn't count, it was only 9 days in Paradise.

No, I was not lured away by a Dutch Boy. And shouldn't he be out painting somewhere anyway?

Yes, that's Hell over there on the right.
It really exists. And it sells t-shirts and other tourist trap crap. That's what I think Hell is going to be like anyway. We had to drive over from the East side of Grand Cayman where we were staying and check out Hell. Because if you flew a couple of thousand miles and then didn't drive 20 more to see Hell, you'd kick yourself the rest of your life.

Grand Cayman is only about 25 miles long. It's got a big port where all the annoying cruise ships put into during the week and make the downtown area amazingly congested. But since we were smart enough to avoid that area (after the first time), the ships make a nice sight from far away or when headed out to see at night while they are all lit up. The ships, not us all lit up.

Cayman seems to have the most amazingly blue water I've ever seen in my life. I don't know if it's the sun, the sand, the water or some amazing chemical they insert into the water to make it look that way, but it's awesome. Take a glance.
That's a wreck from 1903 we swam out to and snorkeled. I don't know how they make it that color, but it's absolutely gorgeous.

Michigan, for some strange reason, does not possess this color.

Cayman got whacked hard by Hurricane Ivan last year and they're still trying to clean up. A lot of folks were either under or un-insured. So there are lots of battered homes (some quite large) and a lot of the trees on the inner part of the island got whacked from all the seawater dumped on them.

That being said, there look to be some great deals in real estate around the island. Wife and I found a great little starter home. We couldn't actually find a For Sale sign, so we may just start squatting. It's got a great view. And when you've got a great view and true love, do you really need doors and windows? Granted the no protection from the weather may play hell with the electronic equipment (especially during the next 'cane season), but I don't think the cable runs out to that part of the island anyway.

Enough about nonsense. What else did we do? Beached and snorkled it every day. Swam with stingrays and even got to hold a big one. Saw a guy feed a 6 foot long green moray eel out of a cut out Clorox jug.

I've also got to get used to driving on the right side of the road again. And using traffic light instead of roundabouts. And wearing shoes. And shirts. And pants.

Man, this sucks. It's good to get away, but it's Hell to come home.