My Son’s Lipstick

My 11 year old and my 13 year old were in a Northern Virginia Players Performance of Aladdin.  Their slightly scaled down version was called Aladdin, Jr. (Directed by Ann Eul and Kate Wittig).  High quality performances and very well done.  OK, so I’m a little biased, but that’s OK because this is a “Proud Poppa” report.

I attended three out the four showings and enjoyed every one of them.  You got to see a little bit of variety because there were two casts for the major character parts.  Each cast did a dynamite job.  I don’t have express permission to post any photos but you can see some on their website if you click here or on the link above.  The stage looked kind-sorta normal but when the lights went down, it was a Whole New World ( I knew I could work that one in there somehow).

One of the recurring themes that I kept hearing from the mothers was “Did my son put on his lipstick?”  Of course I would come back with the same response when they realized that they had just made this comment in front of another guy: “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”  Of course I didn’t know who any of their sons were until one actually pointed it out.  I had one mother actually take the time to give a long drawn out explanations about how her son has absolutely no lips and they really can’t be seen if he does not have any lipstick on.  Being the (ahem!) logical person that I am, I immediately had the thought… well, if he has no lips, then what are they going to put the lipstick on?  This, of course was one of those thoughts that, although it entered my mind, did not necessarily have to make it to my lips.  I was successful in keeping this one in.

There was a lot of hustle and bustle and a lot had to be done, but they pulled off every performance with style.  If you’re in the area then you should try to make a performance sometime.  The next show will be in the spring, but I have no idea what it will be…. I just know it will likely be called Something, Jr.  If you are not in the area, we are reachable by Car, Bus, Train and Plane.  So, no excuses!   Don’t say I didn’t inform you.  You now have all of the information that you need because you can even buy your tickets online when they become available.  Not many folks would do all of that for you, but You Ain’t Never Had A Friend Like Me.  (Hee Hee, had to work that one in there too.).

To the entire company of actors and all who participated…. Job Well Done!

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 7,400 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

The Mysterious Beyond…

Back when we lived in Gaithersburg, MD, my older boys and their friends from our townhouse development had a area that they used to go to which they called “The Mysterious Beyond” (I’m pretty sure I have that right.)  It was an area, to the best of my memory, that to them held some mysterious nature because it was not easy to get to and also because there was, reportedly, some illicit activity that took place there at times.    Naturally we, as concerned parents warned them to be careful, but being the “Jr. Detectives” that they thought they were, they were intent on ridding their neighborhood of crime and pestilence.

 

The Commuter lot where I park in the morning has such an area– minus the illicit activity (at least I thought.  More on that in a minute).  There is a main lot and then there are additional parking spaces that go much, much farther back.  I drive that direction when I leave the lot in the evening before make a U-turn at the boundary; but there is just hint of a hill, enough so that you can’t see past the first few spaces unless you actually enter.  I had never entered and I often saw people come from that direction or cars just mysteriously appear over the horizon that appear to be uninhabited until they reach you. Just my mind playing tricks on me, right?

Well today I was running late. Let me define late… my alarm obviously went off, but I was so tired that I was quite oblivious to that fact that I shut it down.  I have a backup alarm that rings a half hour later… Must have shut that one off too!  When I did open my eyes and saw the time, I toyed around with the idea of staying home for the day and working from there, but “The Boss” has been out on an irregular basis and I’m second in command.  It was a  good thing I came in.  She’s out again today.  Uh oh I sense the beginning of a rabbit trail.  As, my old English 101 Prof. used to say… “Back to the Ranch..” This morning late meant that instead of getting to the commuter lot at 5:30 AM, I was pulling into “The Mysterious Beyond” at 7:52 AM!  The Mysterious beyond was larger than the main parking lot.  And, like the energizer bunny, it just kept going, and going, and going.  I pulled my Chevy Cobalt into a parking space next to another Chevy Cobalt.  Little did I know that this was the Cobalt parking area until I got out of my car and saw my Cobalt was one among 6; three of which were the same color blue as mine.  I’m not sure which car I’ll be driving  home.   My first thought was this area is pretty remote, I hope my car is safe.  Then I  decided that so many people park here that it must be.  I no sooner locked my car door and started making the long trek on foot to the bus stop when a County police car came cruising by slowly and deliberately.   It just so happened that this morning was a cold morning so I had on my black winter coat with my black knit cap pulled over my head and black gloves.  Did I mention that I was black?  My only thought at the moment was, ‘oh boy, this does not look good.’  Of course with my son and his fiancee being county police officers, I at least would have two credible people who could vouch for me… I think!

Well the lady police officer looked me up and down, saw I was reasonably dressed as somebody who was on their way to work, smiled and kept  on trucking.  I now had to navigate my way out of the mysterious beyond on foot and hopefully get out in time to catch my bus– If I could even get out!     When I did emerge I stopped for minute to see if I could hear Rod Sterling telling me that I had just entered the Twilight Zone.  It was quite a trek.  You get spoiled at how much you don’t have to walk when you drive.  Hopefully The Mysterious Beyond will still be there when I return and my car will not have been assimilated by the Borg.  Of course, the one thing I haven’t considered is that all of the other cars were being assimilated by Chevy since there were so many Cobalts around.  Hmmmm.  If you don’t ever see another blog post from me, send in the troops!  Well, my five minute break is up .  Time to get back to work.

Amen!

My HOT coffee form 6:30 AM is now cold

My cold banana pudding also from 6:30 AM (borught in as a treat by a co-worker) is now warm

My workload is tripled because my boss is out as well as someone assigned to a high profile project….

The project that I declined because I did not want another high profile project just yet…

My debt is going through the roof for reasons I cannot yet mention

My back is killing me and now so is my neck

None of my Christmas presents are even close to getting wrapped

I have a todo list at home longer than Yao Ming is tall

And I can’t seem to get anything done when I do have the time because something else comes up…

But you know what God is still on the throne and he has a plan for me and my life that will outshine all of the things that I look at right now as inconveniences.   Yet and still I gripe.   Why?  It’s his schedule not mine.  I feel he’s about to use me for something big.  So Amen to that.

‘Nuff Said.

I hate crew socks

I positively, absolutely HATE crew socks.  Some people would say, “You know it really doesn’t make a difference.“  Well I would beg– YES!  I’m begging– to differ on that one.

I have always had a preference for the “Over the Calf” sock style.  On me it feels better.  Comfort is a factor right?  There I stood yesterday in the Mens Department at Wal-Mart.  I needed some more blue dress socks.  I could not believe that the entire aisle that I was in was ALL dress socks.  So I locate the socks and to my great dismay, while they had socks in my size  and the color that I wanted and in every style that has ever been introduced in the world, they did NOT have the socks that I wanted in the variety that I was looking for.  No blue over the calf socks.  It was crew or nothing.   So I stood there and did what any respectable man would have done… I stood there and argued with myself for 10 minutes.  Having now worn the socks I can tell you that I definitely lost.

What’s wrong with crew socks?  You’re probably asking yourself.  Well, strange though it may be, I like my socks to feel secure.  These socks feel like they’re going to creep right off my leg.  No respectable over the calf sock would ever make you feel that way. I’m pulling my socks up every 5 minutes– even when I am just sitting here at my desk!!   GRRRRRR!  I knew better but I convinced myself that maybe I have been wrong about crew lo these past 38 years (I’m figuring I was 10 when I developed this preference).  So I convinced myself that crew length would be OK.   I am so glad that the black socks that I bought yesterday are over the calf!  As long as it is within my power, I will never, ever, ever, ever, buy crew length socks again!  They are for the rest of the crew but they are definitely NOT for me!

So… What now?  I make the decision that any respectable man who has made a bad purchase makes…  I go to Amazon.com and find what I need and add it to my cart– BUT WAAIT!!!  Don’t place that order yet.  Yes we men are frugal!  I’ll just let it sit in the cart because I know I’ll be back.  Have capitalize on the free shipping so the next time I come back I may go over $25.00  THAT’S when you place your order!

And then… Anticipation… when will they get here.  O when will I once again feel my sock hug my upper calf and not threaten to fall off or feel like it IS falling off.  Unfortunately, as of this writing I am only at the sock hating stage.  I have not gotten to get online and order stage.  Hmmm can I return them now that I’ve worn them.  I supposed they expect me to wash them first.  Frankly I think I’m out  $5 and change.  Well at least I have gained the experience that nothing has changed.  Over the calf is still the sock for me.

The Pefect Burger… Perfect Pita eat your heart out

I have a friend, Ginger, who has some obsessive compulsive tendencies (don’t we all?  Well except for me of course– NOT!).   She has to have pefectly round hamburger patties… yeah, just like the ones you buy at the store, but she makes them herself.   I sat here and watched–in burger awe– and it is an interesting process.   I’m going to try and walk you through it here– and of course have some fun at the same time.

 

 

First the equipment!  Go to your cabinet and pull out your tortilla press.  What?  Come on EVERYBODY has one!  You don’t have one?  OK, well, neither do I, but nonetheless, that what she uses.  As Mr. T might  say, “I pity the burger that gets between those plates!

 

 

 

Now be forewarned.  You don’t want to use “naked” plates.  Dress your tortilla press in plastic bags.  Trust me it makes the clean up job all the more easier.   Don’t think so?  Lets put the decision tree into words…. Lets see wash the whole tortilla press…. or just throw away bags, put the tortilla press away and be done with it.  Sounds like a nobrainer to me. 

 

Next, place the rounded (but not yet perfectly rounded patty onto the bottom plate.  Which one is the bottom plate you ask?  Very easy…  but I’ll give you two choices.   For the intellectual… its the one that looks it should be the bottom plate.  For those of you who are just plain practical, it is whichever plate you put down first.  Works for me!  Bet you can’t guess what the next step is!  Well tickle my timbers, you figured it out…  Place the top plate on top of the hamburger.  Now Ginger and I had a brief conversation about this next step.  It is a torilla press, but when I was growing up my mom, being from the south said MASH whenever I would say PRESS.   And how did this even come up?  Well Ginger actually used the word MASH as well.  So,  although we are using a totilla PRESS, we’re gonna mash that baby!  Ready?  One, two, three…. MASH.  Brings up memories of an old song (lyrics modified) 

She did the Mash.  She did the burger Mash–The burger mash!  It was a mealtime smash. 

She did the Mash… it caught on in a flash… well you get the  idea.  

By the way don’t try this at home, my friend, Ginger is a trained professional.

 

  Take the top off and you have the perefect tortilla,

uhhh, pita….

uhhh burger!  Yeah burger. 

Forgot what we were doing there for a mintue.  Now there were a few people over for dinner including her own family so we’re looking at 3 adults– make that 4!  Her sister just walked in– (I think I’m one of those) and nine children.  So just to make sure that she had enough to eat….LOL!… Ginger made…..

32 Perfect Burgers!

Shown below, they are seasoned with steak seasoning.  They smell very good cooking and I anticipate they will taste even better.  I of course have no intention of eating all 32, but I’m gonna put killing on one or two for sure!

Perect Pita, eat your heart out!

 

 

 

 

 

Slugging in Style!

Well, here is the latest entry in my Chronicles in being a slug.  (For those of you who don’t know what that is and did not read my earlier post, that is simply being a rider who gets picked up by a driver who needs to have a certain number of people in order to be able to travel in the restricted High Occupancy Vehicle lanes– which travel much faster than the main stream)

 

I have made the observation that  that 80 – 85 MPH seems to be the average speed of travel for those traveling in the HOV lanes.   Perhaps it is because is the end of the day and people just want to get home.  Riders like myself just have to stop paying attention to the speedometer.  Of course on this day I just couldn’t help it.  I got picked up at the slug line by a gentleman driving a Jaguar!  Sweet ride.   My brother would call him a Buppie– his own adaptation.   Yuppies being the term used in the 80′s for Young Urban Professional; well my brother took it one step farther.  Since “Yuppies” were by in large always represented as being white, my brother decided that if you were black, then you must be a Buppie– only in my dysfunctional family do you find such logic. 

So there I was in the back seat of a Jag, being driven by a Buppie.  While we were still in Crystal City proper, he could not really put the petal to the metal, but once we hit the highway, the brother floored itj!  I saw the speedometer hit 60 then 70 then 80 then 90 and he settled in at approx. 105 mile per hour.   The ride was so smooth that you could not tell you were going that fast, but I go kind of scared when I noticed that  the speedometer went in excess 180 MPH!!! 

Nothing like riding in style.  This ride had all of the bells and whistles and probably cost just slightly less than my house!  Fine leather seats, built in GPS, etc, etc, etc.  I almost wanted to take my towel  out of my back pack and put it under me to make sure I didn’t mar the leather!  He was jamming with his 70′s and 80′s hits running one right after the other.  Then, still traveling in excess of 100 MPH, I saw him pull out his cell phone and answer it.  Now only one hand on the wheel and no reduction in speed!  Carrie Underwood came to mind and I silently thought to myself:  “Jesus take the Wheel!”  Tim Hawkins Christian Comedian)  would have had a field day with this one.

 

Well we (there was another passenger up front) listened to him conduct his business and then twisted around– as he sped up a little– and put his phone away.   Not three minutes later there was a beeping sounded that sounded like the phone ringing .  Well we knew it wasn’t his as it was obviously on vibrate.  My phone was on vibrate so naturally I thought it was the other passenger.  I thought it odd that he was looking around at me.  To both of our surprise our Buppy driver reached over and hit a button on the center console and said, “Hello!”  The Jag had an onboard phone… Guess Ishould not be suprised.  To the best of my memory, here is how the converstion went:

Driver:  Hello

Son: Hi Dad, do you want me to take to the trash out?

Driver:  No, I got it.

Son:  Are you sure, I don’t mind

Driver:  No, I think it might be a little bit too heavy for you this time, I’ll take care of it when I get home.  I’m not far away now.

Son:  I’m sure I can do it.

Driver:  Thanks for offering.  I’ll take care of it.  See you when I get home.

The driver hit the button and closed the connection.  Once again he reached for the cell phone.  Once again he did not slow down! “Jesus Take the Wheel!”  Conducted more business and was off sooner this time.  It wasn’t long before  we exited the highway and for lack of  a better to express it… came in for  landing on runway one.  I of course said my thank yous and exited the vehicle.  The other passenger remained… destination unknown.

My Exprience as a Slug

Oh, wait a minute, that’s not exactly where I’m heading with this post…. Ummm lets move from the noun form to the verb form (such as it is, unofficially) and try this definition…

Slugging, also known as casual carpooling, is the practice of forming ad hoc, informal carpools for purposes of commuting, essentially a variation of ride-share commuting and hitchhiking. While the practice is most common and most publicized in the congested Washington, D.C. area, slugging also occurs in San Francisco, Houston, and internationally.  Typically slugging is motivated by an incentive such as a faster HOV lane or a toll reduction.

I have lived in the Washington, D.C. area for 24 years now and I can count the number of times I have taken a slug ride on my ten fingers (well, eight fingers and two thumbs for the extremely technical) without running out.  Sometimes with a friend and other times quite by accident because I was standing at my bus stop on the main drag and a car pulled up and picked me up.  Up until about 2 months ago I did not have a driver’s license (due in part to a medical condition) and so have been a professional pedestrian and public transportation commuter (A groove that is easy to get into–and hard to get out of– when you grew up in New York City).  But, alas, through a series of life changing events I am now a driver.

I am sure that you have noticed the price of gasoline… I sure have.  So I have been taking measures to keep my gas purchases at a minimum.  Driving is a nice luxury but it is just that a luxury.  And an expensive one at that!  So, as opposed to making the drive from my home to my office every day (about 50 miles round trip), I have been taking the commuter bus.  My employer covers half of that expense, but I still have to foot the bill for the other half.  While the larger amounts of currency are made of paper, my dad was right… it really doesn’t grow on trees!  If he were still alive I would officially have to concede that one.  So, living in the Washington D.C. suburbs, slugging has been an option that was always open to me, but not really convenient while I was not a driver.  So it was time to give it a try.

Yesterday was my first “official” attempt.  I drove to the commuter lot and took the Commuter bus to work (still have to use the transportation benefits from my employer) but I slugged home!    At the the end of the day I left the office and walked to the slug line for my commuter lot.  A car pulled up and they were headed to my destination.  I got in….said thank you and was silent from there on… the Modus Operandi of a slug…. You can ride but just sit there and be quiet.  I just need your body so that I can drive on the HOV lane... That is unless the driver actually starts the conversation.

The PROs:  Without having to do all of the waiting and make all of the bus stops, my travel time was cut by a full hour!  My dog who was waiting at home to be fed was much more appreciative of that that I was!  The ride in the car (well this one was a luxury pickup) was very comfortable and did not bother my bad back like the commuter bus seats do!  Nice.  You don’t’ have to worry about the person next to you striking up a conversation when all you really want to do is chill, and I did not have to listen to the same guy on the bus who screams into the phone when he calls his wife every day to let her know he  is on the bus.  I think text messaging was invented for the likes of him.  Although he is not as bad as a gentleman who used to ride my bus who would wait until he go on the bus to make probably the same call every day and yell “I’m on My CELL PHONE!”  No need to yell, everybody on the bus already knew it.

The CONS:  Not many really.  Depends on the driver I would imagine.  The driver of the vehicle I was in was doing a constant 80 MPH in a 65MPH zone!  What is sad is that he couldn’t even keep up with most of the pack.  Certainly you still have to be careful about who you ride with, particularly if you are a lady, and if its raining, waiting in a slug line ain’t desirable (pardon my English… or lack thereof).  Of course its not all that desirable to wait for a bus in the rain either.

So, all in all, after my nice slow, drive home, I concluded that was alright.  I think my dog chimed in the same, but I could have been hearing things.  So I would recommend slugging to anyone who is able to get to a slug line.  Oh yeah…. always remember to be kind and courteous to your driver… especially considering that you may need to ride with them again!

Boys and their toys

I commute to work every day on the commuter bus and there is not a whole lot to do except for read and sleep. The trip normally takes about 45 minutes – 1 hour.  But, then there are days like the other day where there is traffic  that is so heavy that the commute time can easily expect to be doubled.  At least the bus was air conditioned and for the most part (if you don’t have bad back like me) comfortable.

What made this ride singularly different was unexpected “competition” that ensued.  It made me realize just how many “toys” I actually carry around.  I was not consciously trying to compete, mind you, but on an unconscious level I guess I allowed it to happen.  You must be chomping at the bit now to find out what in the world I’m talking about.  Well without further adieu I guess I’ll just jump right into it.

There I sat realizing that I was in this for the long haul… after all, my only alternative was to get out and walk.  So I pulled out my Color Nook and started reading the Sci-Fi book that I downloaded for free.  I was well aware of the gentleman sitting next to me because he was producing an extremely abnormal (IMHO) amount of heat.  In my peripheral vision I saw him continuously glancing over at my book reader.  Finally he reached down into his bag and pulled out… you guessed it, his book reader.  But I noticed that this poor gentleman had gone over to the “dark side.” for he owned an Amazon Kindle 3.  I had to smile inwardly at his ptiful attempt to produce a better device.  Realizing that I was going to be on the bus for quite a while yet and that my boss was in the same traffic, I thought it prudent to text her.  So I put my Nook on my lap and pulled out my HTC Inspire Android phone (operating on AT&T’s wannabe 4G network).  My competitor put down his Kindle and produced an iPhone4.  Another sad attempt but I have to admit this one did stand up better to the challenge!  Having sent my messages I put the phone away.  What a coincidence, so did th”brutha” next to me.

Now I started thinking about work and my to-do list!   So… you guessed it, I reached back into the bag for another “toy.”  I pulled out my Acer  A500 10.1 inch android tablet.  I thought for sure, “I’ve got this dude beat now.”  Not so, he pulled out his Samsung Galaxy tablet complete with internet access!  But he didn’t have the apps I had!!!  I pulled up Angry birds and so did he.  I pulled up Angry Birds Rio… he had to download it!  I had him now.   Well after we were done with Angry Birds we both put the tablets away.   And it was almost with a somber attitude that he turned to me and said, “I’m done.  You got anything else and you win.”   That was the first time it hit me that we were actually in a competition.  I thought to myself… should I be humble and end this thing with a tie or do I reach into “the bag” again.  Well, you know I couldn’t resist.   I unzipped the front pocket of my work bag and pulled out he iPOD touch.  He offered me his hand and we shook.  All I could think of as I put on my music was Boys and their toys and so had to write this blog entry.

Scheduling A Staff Meeting

Well after my boss has tried over and over again to schedule a staff meeting only to have to reschedule over and over again.  I sat down for a few minutes and wrote a little poem about the staff meeting scheduling experience and how we sometimes (after having done all the hard work) get overridden by the big guns in upper management who can take rooms that have already been allocated by the hard workers.   Here goes.

 

I’ve identified a new process that is really self defeating

And that trying to get our entire staff into a group staff meeting

Its been scheduled and rescheduled my fingers have taken a beating

And the conference rooms are booked out the wazoo by upper management — that’s just cheating

And the moment we thought we had it… well that moment was just fleeting

Brief though it was it sure felt good to have finally scheduled the meeting

Now its back to the drawing board we’ll schedule this meeting yet

Or my name isn’t….  whoa better stop before I say something I regret

Well I am certain that you get the gist of what I am desperately trying to convey

But with “Big Brother” listening in I must be careful what I say.

And so, to sum the whole the meeting is now on and how

So as it stands the deed is done… well at  least it is for now.

Oh pardon me, now my phone is ringing, upper management, the guys a jerk,

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU JUST TOO MY ROOM TO  MAKE YOUR MEETING WORK!”

Alas, I go back to my very first point, this process is self defeating

Sometimes I wish it was within my character to tell someone what they could do with their meeting.