May 2004 Archives

I've thought about the passing of Tony Randall recently, and how sometimes celebrities whose spotlights have faded go into public pergatory: if they lived to entertain us, they must have died if they stopped (See "Whatever Happened to Mayor McCheese below). Randall may be best-known across the country as Felix Unger in the TV version of The Odd Couple.

The popular saying tells us that opposites attract (first we'd have to define "opposites" – which I won't do here today). Sometimes this is quite true ...

For those of you with cars, you may have noticed how much more it's costing to fill up your tanks with gasoline. An understatement, for sure. I read a news article a few weeks ago that we Americans are finally turning to smaller, more common-sense approach to transportation by buying more fuel-efficient cars. Not me, understand, because having a car payment would disrupt our financial balance (already teetering on some sort of tenuous ledge) more than filling up our two paid-off trucks.

For people like me, or those who just don't want to give up their gigantic cars, there is hope. Here's a few great ways to save on gasoline:

This happens to me a lot: I'll be watching or reading something and be surprised that someone – particularly a celebrity – is still alive. In public life, the darkening of the spot light, otherwise known as moving on to better things, is often equated with death. But it's not really. I've mentioned this before as it pertains to blogging, in that when people terminates their online lives, it doesn't mean they aren't happy, healthy and otherwise alive and kicking.

Here's a few examples of people gone (but not really) that I've recently been made aware of:

On this morning's jog, I set out hoping that stupid portable radar sign that measures passing vehicles' speeds would still be there. It was. I was jogging at my usual 6 mph. I saw it around the corner, taunting me with its flashing "6." It wouldn't win this time, I thought to myself as my legs started pumping faster ...

I clean out my e-mail account and "Hotmail staff" sends me notes on expanding my account's memory capacity. Uh, hello? I'm now using less than 1 percent of the storage volume. Rarely do I use anywhere near 20 percent of it. Buzz off, "Hotmail staff!" I remember another blogger lamenting sometime ago how opening up one's e-mail and finding a message in your inbox is exciting – and then gut-wrenching when it's not from a paramour but "Hotmail staff." What a disappointment.

Here's some other news you'll only read here ...

I've seen or read more stories about the controversial phone-jamming voting on "American Idol" than I remember seeing when President Bush was elected (or "elected" as some of you probably consider the result). Come on, people, it's just a TV show – and one that not everyone in the world gives a nilly rip* about.

Boo hoo, one of the top contestants was voted out, leaving one of the less wonderful ones in the Top 3. Even that contestant said it best after her performances – that by the time you get to the Top 4, they are all winners. That's a nod and wink to the fact that if anyone in the contest is worth their weight in salt, they'll be awarded some sort of record contract to pursue a music career.

Here's 10 things more important than "American Idol" ...

I remember more than 20 years ago, one of my friends down the street found a balloon with a message attached. It had the contact information for some girl who lived states away, who had let it go hoping someone would find it. This is nothing new, and it's still done – some nursing home residents down the street from my office released some just yesterday. It's the land-locked equivalent of tossing a message-carrying bottle into the sea.

We can draw all sorts of parallels to blogging. It's different, of course, but it amazes me how sometimes an actual person (not a spambot) will leave a semi-intelligent comment to something I posted seven months ago. They stumbled onto my site probably through a search engine, and something in my post matched what they were seeking. Sometimes I forget those balloons are still floating out there.

Watch out! Rant ahead!

It amazes me the lack of common sense and self-restraint my fellow dog owners have – particularly the ones in my crumbling suburban neighborhood. Get a clue: buy a leash.

I've been chased by no fewer than eight different dogs on various jogs, walks and bike rides on public streets. Sometimes the owners holler after their wayward pooches, or chase after them (this never works). I guess putting them in their FENCED back yards where they WON'T CHASE ME is too much to ask them. Besides, letting them run loose lets 'em poo in their neighbors' yards rather than their own. And I'm happy to provide some entertainment value in trying to escape. Or rather, I'm unhappy.

I'm a dog person, sometimes the Pied Piper of Stray Dogs, and basically I get along with most of the ones I encounter. However, similar situations have been life, death or severe injury for others because large dogs usually win against humans in scuffles. I don't want to become a statistic, so I am ...

I'm no longer a man of constant blogging, if that's what you mean. But because you asked (or I knew you were going to), I'll let you in on what I've been doing the past week:

Friends or Survivor?

Other burning questions ...

This is a list I'll be sending to my sister and her husband, who are closing on their first house on Friday, and also my sister-in-law and her husband, who just moved into theirs. We've lived in our own abode four years, and have already learned through trial, error and wits ends what we need to survive.

Thursday is a big day for Casa del T-Bone. We're having our vintage 1964 sliding-glass patio door replaced with French doors with blinds between the glass. So chic, so modern! Plus, our friends the plumbers are visiting to replace our shower drain in the master bath (which should jumpstart my renovation project and let me finish it by the end of the month).

My fellow homeowners may have things to add or subtract, but here goes ...

I saw the firetrucks and police cars blocking the street, so I took a detour on this morning's jog. My journalistic curiousity lost out to common sense, which said I would be in the way. My guess was house fire. A mile down the road, I saw news helicopters circling that same area – I was convinced it was a house fire or some other tragedy. Sadly, I was right.

On the way home, I slowed to a walk and strolled through the scene. News trucks, fire trucks, paramedics and concerned residents lined the street. The fire was out, and water poured from a water main inadvertently busted during the rescue. I noticed the house – in passing I had noticed the people in their yard, maybe the girl out walking her dog, the motorhome parked beneath the cover in their back yard.