The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Time for some more ranting.

As was originally reported in the August 5, 2007 edition of Suburban Rogue , “I have noticed that a lot of my mishaps seem to involve food.”

OK, I have to say that I’m tired of being graded on my food choices by wait-staff. I have enough trouble in my life just trying to get my socks to match and make sure my shirt is tucked in. I don’t need my menu selections critiqued.

Recently I went to lunch with a friend who ordered some kind of chicken thingy. The waitress applauded the selection and said “That is an excellent choice; it is one of the best things on the menu. You obviously know a great deal about food, are wise beyond your years, and are a likely candidate for sainthood.”

The waitress then looked at me and asked to take my order. Beads of sweat began to form on my brow, and my stomach began to churn. It was that same feeling I remember from the third grade when I got called on to present my book report that I hadn’t done…

I thought about, in order to show my sophistication, ordering Steak Tartar medium-well, but decided not to because of the whole cholesterol thing. So, in a quivering voice, I said “I’d like the turkey sandwich on whole wheat, with a side of coleslaw.”

Well, I got a “Hmmm, interesting choice” and watched the waitress turn and walk away, shaking her head, pointing at our table and saying something to make the other restaurant employees and patrons laugh.

Humiliated, I ate my lunch in silence as my friend was celebrated for making such a wonderful lunch choice. I have to admit the fighter jet flyover and parade were a bit much for just ordering a chicken thingy…

There is an epidemic sweeping my office.

Do I like it? No.

Do I hope it will end soon? Yes.

In case you haven’t figured it out, the epidemic it is known as Interviewyourselfitis.

Most of the big shots at my office are afflicted with this malady, and it is most apparent during large meetings where they have to speak. It’s an effective technique, and can give the illusion of allowing audience participation as in:

“Do I think our budget is adequate? No.”

“Will the budget pressures ease by the end of the quarter? Yes.”

Couple this kind of self-involvement with referring to yourself in the third person and it won’t be long before you have a spot as a talking head on cable TV.

For example, Jim may say:

“Does Jim think our production level was acceptable last month? No.”

“Does Jim believe it will be higher this month? Yes.”

There is no known cure…

And finally, this story from South Florida.

It seems the Florida Marlins are looking for a few good round men to form a cheerleading squad.

Marlins Cheerleaders

It’s good to know that there is now a place for guys built like me in professional sports…

Super Sunday

Thoughts and observations about Super Bowl Ex-Ell-Eye-Eye…

1. Tom Brady is handsome, athletic, articulate, humble, wealthy, and has a super model for a girlfriend. Other than that, he really doesn’t have much going for him.

2. This was the first Super Bowl played on a tray. That’s right folks, the field at the

University of Phoenix Stadium is a giant steel tray that can be moved out of one end of the stadium. There’s a lot of very interesting structural engineering that went into the design of the tray, but who wants to hear about that right now?

3. The architecture of the stadium is supposed evoke a barrel cactus. I have been to the Sonoran Desert many times and have never seen a stainless steel barrel cactus.

4. Is the University of Phoenix a real university?

5. In preparation for the game I purchased two 52 oz.

Bubba Kegs .

6. The best commercial that I saw was the Cavmen/Wheel ad. Very funny stuff.

7. Eli Manning looks like he is 19 years old. The kid can play though…

8. Tom Petty, who does not look like he is 19, can also play…

9. To all football announcers, everywhere: It will always depend on the spot. 100% of the time. No matter what...

Suburban Rogue XXXIV

With the Super Bowl coming up I thought I’d name this issue of Suburban Rogue using Roman Numerals. It’s the XVIIth best idea I ever had.

I’ve observed a lot of unusual things in the past couple of months and I’ve been delaying writing about them because I couldn’t seem to organize them into a coherent, well written narrative. Then, I thought, “Why worry about that now…”

So here goes…

I was at the grocery store recently when I passed a petite 30-ish woman doing overhead presses with two six-packs of V8 juice and talking to herself while briskly walking down the aisle. I also noticed she had very well defined biceps and triceps. So I now drink V8 juice, but it’s V8 light, since I’m not strong enough to do the overhead presses with the regular version.

The other day Mrs. R and I were at the local mall when we observed a man standing beside his pick-up truck while swinging a baseball bat. In January. In Colorado. His wife had their laptop out on the hood of their SUV, which was parked facing their pickup, and she was busily searching for directions. I offer no explanation for this, other than to say this couple had to be related to Delbert and Nadine, whom we met in the November 5, 2007 edition of Suburban Rogue .

Speaking of Delbert and Nadine, it’s time for another coveted Designating Underachievement in Marketing By Advertisers Selling Stuff (DUMBASS) Award. This weeks’ category is fast food, and the winner is Kentucky Fried Chicken for their new Hot Wings commercial:

We see a young lady bite into a hot wing and exclaim “Whoa. Didn’t see that coming.” I guess that’s a natural reaction when you bite into a hot wing and it, you know, tastes like a hot wing…

Earlier this year there was some tough weather up in the mountains, and heavy snows resulted in some avalanches that closed I-70 for a day or so, and stranded several dozen travelers. A local news anchor, in his gravest news anchor voice, intoned, “The avalanches were due to bad weather.” No kidding? Thanks for the insight there, Captain Obvious.

I saw a commercial on TV the other day for a product called Kinoki Foot Pads . Apparently you stick these things to the bottom of your feet right before bed, and toxins are magically drawn from your body, and collected on the pads. Hmmmmm, seems a little suspicious to me. What was it that P.T. Barnum said?

It’s also that time of year when nominations for Mother, Father, and Family of the Year start rolling in. Here are the early contenders:
Mother: To the mom who sent both of her kids to a local elementary school with ear infections and strep throat because, well, she had to go to work. Way to step up there mom!

Father: To the dad we saw at a local restaurant reading the newspaper while his two young daughters ate lunch. Hard to believe a guy with communication skills like that only gets to see the kids every other weekend…

Family: To the family at the local mega-warehouse store for looking to the future. When Junior asked if he could have a book, Mom said “You never read those damn books!” And Dad chimed in “You can use your own money to buy books. We’re only going to buy you the essentials.”

The future is bright, indeed…

Confusion...

You can’t make this stuff up…

One evening, a month or so ago, I decided to run a quick errand. In my haste to leave, I left my cell phone sitting on the couch. Usually I just leave myself sitting on the couch, but that’s a topic for another blog.

I was gone longer than expected and Mrs. R became concerned that maybe I had developed car trouble and needed some help, so she decided to call me. She was sitting about 6 feet away from where I left my phone when she dialed my number.

Apparently my phone rang immediately after she dialed, and Mrs. R thought it was strange that someone else would be calling me at exactly the same time as she was, but she also knew that I was expecting a couple of calls. So Mrs. R answered my phone. It was very thoughtful of her, and I’m sure she had a nice conversation with herself…

What goes around comes around…

This past weekend, I went to the local building supply store to get some stuff, but mostly because I was running low on testosterone. Mrs. R said she might go visit her friend and run a couple of errands while I was gone.

I came home and unloaded the supplies to the backyard. Marci, our Golden Retriever, was excited to see me outside and was whining and generally making a nuisance of herself, and demanding to come outside with me. It’s really kind of annoying when she does this, and if you’re inside while it’s going on it’s impossible to ignore.

Anyway, a few minutes later I was standing in the garage on the exact spot where Mrs. R parks her car, you know, when she’s home, when my phone rang. It was Mrs. R, and she wanted to know if I was home yet.

“Yes” I said disgustedly, “I’m standing in the garage. How could you not know I’m here with all of the racket Marci is making?”

“I’m at the library honey. I’ll be home soon,” Mrs. R patiently explained. “Oh, and don’t forget to take your medicine. It’s on the counter…”

And now, for the encore performance…

One of our cats recently developed a problem that requires Mrs. R and me to give her an IV on a regular basis. We were at the Vets’ office for about an hour where they patiently trained us on how to do this relatively simple procedure. It was decided that Mrs. R would be the “needle-sticker-inner” and I would be the “cat-holder-downer.” We were told that it was very important for the inner workings of the IV bag to be kept sterile and to remember to change the needle before each use. It all seemed like sound advice to us.

The very next day, we were ready. To hang the IV, I had fashioned a hook from an old wire clothes hanger (it seemed important to us to have all four hands available) and we had converted to kids’ bathroom into a “treatment room.” All that was left to do was to change the needle and get going.

At this point I think it’s important to note that needles in the veterinary medicine world are every bit as sharp as needles in the human medicine world…

When Mrs. R tried to pull the needle out of the tube that runs from the IV, the protective cover came loose and she sliced her finger, at which time it started to bleed. I asked if she was OK, and she said yes, despite the drops of blood on her blouse.

I then offered to remove the needle, and being a “visual learner” I promptly sliced my finger in the exact same way as Mrs. R had.

Uh, one thing we forgot when we set up the treatment room was to stock it with basic first aid supplies.

So now we have two bleeding adults, an unharmed cat in desperate need of the IV, and no way to stop the bleeding fingers. Our options were to go downstairs and get some bandages, or call 911. We chose the former. So, while I stood in the bathroom with a Kleenex wrapped around my finger as I held it above my head, the wounded Mrs. R bravely went and found first aid supplies.

We were then able to successfully treat each others injuries, get the needle changed, and give the cat her IV.

I’m glad to report that the cat is doing just fine, but Mrs. R and I have a couple of sore fingers…

Dan Fogelberg

It was the summer of 1975 and I, along with some friends (who are now readers of this blog), had tickets to a Dan Fogelberg/Eagles concert at Red Rocks. My two favorite artists on the same bill, at the best place on the planet to hear live music, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect concert!

Unfortunately, when my friends and I arrived at Red Rocks, we discovered that Dan Fogelberg had tonsillitis or strep throat and would not be performing that night. Instead, Tom Waits would open. This was disappointing since most of us were not familiar with Waits’ music, and he often sounded as though he had a sore throat…

A few years later, after I had met, fallen in love with, and married a beautiful young woman, another opportunity to see Dan Fogelberg at Red rocks came along. We eagerly headed to Red Rocks, and he performed that evening. It was a magical night, despite the driving rainstorm that blew through early in the first set.

As I think back upon things now (and I know this is somewhat of a cliché) Dan Fogelberg’s music was a backdrop to my younger years…

The rollicking songs,

Love when you can

Cry when you have to

Be who you must

That's a part of the plan

Await your arrival with simple survival

And one day we'll all understand

One day we'll all understand

(Part of the Plan 1974)

The poetic lyrics,

Once in a vision I came on some woods

And stood at a fork in the road

My choices were clear yet I froze with the fear

Of not knowing which way to go

Oh, one road was simple acceptance of life

The other road offered sweet peace

When I made my decision

My vision became my release

(Nether Lands 1977)

And the beautiful melodies…

Listen to “Same Old Lang Syne” from the 1981 album “The Innocent Age,” and then listen to Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” (at about 4 minutes in). You will notice some remarkable similarities in the melodies of these two songs. Dan Fogelberg did as well, and thanks a “P.I. Tchaikovsky” for his inspiration on the liner notes of “The Innocent Age.”

Dan Fogelberg composed and recorded some of his best music while living near Boulder in the 70’s and 80’s, and I bought most of those albums. Still have ‘em too. His music deeply touched me and that beautiful young woman I married, and it still does, even today.

Dan Fogelberg is the first of my generations’ music icons to leave us.

He died this past Sunday. He was 56…

City of Angels

Five or so years ago, after a business trip to San Francisco, Son Rogue came out and we spent a long weekend in the City by the Bay, and had a great time. A couple of weeks ago it was finally Daughter Rogues’ turn.

My week started in Seattle, where my coworkers and I got to enjoy the 2nd wettest day in the history of the Emerald City - enjoyable in a webbed-foot sort of a way. We did, however, make it down to the waterfront for a dinner at a place called Ivars

The food was delicious, I had the Seared Northwest Wild Salmon and it was the best salmon I ever had. If you’re ever in Seattle, give Ivars a try. Just be careful though, and watch out for the petite, curly-haired waitress. She is a food snob, and doesn’t like people who eat animals. Other than that she’s a lovely girl. Oh, except for the part where she tried to stick us with extra bowls of chowder and appetizers on our check. For the remainder of our trip, our waitress was known simply as “Ultra-Bitch.”

The next night our team was in Berkeley and we again found ourselves at a seafood place at dinner time, Spengers Fresh Fish Grotto.

This restaurant is also worth a try. Just remember that you’re in Berkeley, and it’s kinda like Boulder on steroids…

On Wednesday midday we were in Sacramento for another meeting. It was warm and sunny and we ate lunch on the deck at the Blue Gecko, which you may or may not have read about in the Feb 8 edition of Suburban Rogue

We got up early on Thursday and flew to Orange County, for our fifth and final meeting of the week. Afterwards, I met DR at John Wayne Airport; we rented a car, and were off to Hollywood. Well actually Studio City, to our hotel.

We decided to have a pizza and dine on the patio of our 4th floor hotel room. You don’t get to do that much in December in Colorado. I volunteered to order the pizza…

“Mamas and Papas Pizza, what’s up dude?”

“Yeah I’d like to order a pizza for delivery.

“Awwwright! We got some tasty pies maaan.”

Do you deliver to the Sportsmen’s Lodge Hotel?”

“Is that the big one on Ventura?”

“Yes”

‘Uh, I dunno… Hang on, dude.”

It occurred to me that I was having a real life conversation with Jeff Spicoli

Friday we woke to a cool cloudy morning and decided to go sightseeing, and hope for better weather on Saturday. We headed to Pasadena and went to the Rose Bowl, but we couldn’t get past the very large security guard. The stadium is a beautiful setting, and sits in a natural bowl with mountains to the north and east. While in Pasadena, we did not see any Little Old Ladies…

We then drove along Mulholland drive, and were treated to some spectacular views of Los Angeles and the San Fernando Valley. For lunch we went to Hollywood, to the In-N-Out Burger across the street from Hollywood High School. There was quite a collection of characters in this fast food joint. Some of them might have actually been contributing members of society…

Somewhere that day we drove past a sign for Occidental College. DR wondered if that was where poor spellers Accidentally went to college…

We spent most of Saturday at Universal Studios where, as you can see, I purchased a new car. I’ve always wanted a Dodge Charger, and they just happened to have one. It was a little pricey, but what the heck. Just don’t tell Mrs. R…

On Saturday night, DR and I got all gussied up and she took me to a restaurant in Santa Monica called The Lobster , it is one of the Top 10 Seafood Restaurants in the Los Angeles area. This is a very cool, very hip place located right on the edge of the Santa Monica Pier. We enjoyed a terrific dinner, DR had Chilean Sea Bass and I had Crab Cakes, and then we followed it up with Wild Blueberry Cobbler for dessert, and a walk along the Santa Monica Pier. What a special evening!

Sunday was bright and sunny and warm, just in time for our trip home to a frigid Denver. We went back to Santa Monica, did a little sightseeing in the daylight, and then caught our plane home. It was 12 degrees when we landed Sunday evening, about 50 degrees colder than where we left, but it didn’t really seem that cold after such a great weekend.

P.S.

Another of our readers is having some health issues right now, so please keep a good thought for her… Thanks!

Homecoming

Thirty-two years is a long time…

The other day a friend sent me an e-mail that she had gotten which contained some photographs from a 1970’s era JC Penney catalog. The author of the original e-mail was having a great time making fun of the styles, and who could blame him? It was simultaneously hilarious and sobering to see those pictures. To think that my generation once looked that way (bad hair, bad clothes) is troubling…

Anyway, the photos sent me for a brief trip down memory lane, to my senior year of high school and the fall of 1975.

I really was not a BMOC at my high school, probably more of a Medium MOC, but I was an ambitious 17 year-old, and was always looking for opportunities to move into that upper echelon.

One afternoon during homecoming week, I received a call from a cheerleader asking me if I wanted to participate in a kissing contest with all of the cheerleaders during the pep assembly of homecoming week. Even for me, this was a no-brainer, and I eagerly accepted her invitation. I checked with my buddies, Bill and Mark and Doug, and they too had been asked to participate. We saw this as our chance to make the move to BMOC status (although in reality, Mark may have already been there).

The pep assembly went along as pep assemblies did in the 70’s, building toward the grand finale, the kissing contest.

All of the participants were then asked to come down to the gym floor where we were seated in front of about 1500 people (it was a big suburban high school) in a row of folding chairs that stretched across one end of the gym.

We were then told that we would be blindfolded, kissed by a cheerleader, then be asked to rate the kiss. Seemed easy enough.

As we were being blindfolded we were a) eager with excitement that we were finally going to get to kiss a cheerleader and b) eager with excitement that we were finally going to move up to BMOC. We anxiously waited for the cheerleaders…

The PA announcer said “Bring the girls out!” and as they entered the gym it erupted into a cacophony of laughter, hoots, hollers and whistles…

It was at this point that I began to suspect something was terribly wrong…

The girls lined up behind us, and when it was your turn the girl standing behind you would lean over and give you a kiss. As I recall I rated the kiss kind of low. After all of the guys had rated their kisses, the girls were asked to come around and stand in front of us, and our blindfolds were removed.

We looked up to see our mothers standing directly in front of us… That’s right, we all had just kissed our moms in front of the entire high school!

Take a close look at the picture at the top of this blog, it’s from my senior yearbook. That’s me, kissing my mom at the homecoming pep assembly, in front of my entire high school…

I never did make it to BMOC…

P.S.

50 bonus points for anyone who can identify the aerial photograph at the top of the blog.

For you AHS-ers, only 25 bonus points…