My Midas Crap Touch Powers Continue

I had a meeting with my banker downtown this morning at 8:30.  Being a good little client and respecting the time of others, I was at the corner of 4th and Deaderick in plenty of time to park in their tiny garage and arrive on time for my appointment.

And then I saw the lines.  First the line of cars waiting to get into the parking garage which my bank shares with a hotel.  But they always have some spots reserved for bank customers so I waited it out for 15 minutes.  When I got inside the garage, I drove around the entire structure three times to no avail.

By this time my banker called my cell and told me to try another garage, since apparently theirs was full.  No shit, Sherlock.  So I circled the block and saw the real line and the cause of my parking difficulties.  There were hundreds of people queued up waiting to enter the Doubletree for their chance at their 15 minutes of fame as a contestant on “So You Think You’ve Got Talent.”  There were auditioners of every size and shape, in and out of costumes, with and without instruments and all various shades of bluish purple as they stood in the sub-freezing cold.  The best adjective I can think of is “motley.”

I drove to a garage a few blocks away and still had to park on the 10th floor.  The clincher was the elevator ride down which I had to share with two prospective contestants who wanted to try out their acts on me.  One had an accordion.  The other was a ventriloquist.

What was that other NBC show from the 90’s?  Oh yeah.  “Just Shoot Me.”

A Few Questions to All the Panicky Peoples Out There in Blogland

Think back if you can to the last day of March 2007.

• Was your throat tight?
• Did you feel as if the world was collapsing in on you?
• Were you worried that the global economy was going to wash away your home like some financial tsunami?
• Did you feel like you needed a bailout and that everyone else in America earning less than $75K per year probably needed one too?
• Did you actively make plans to abandon your 401K at work and bury your money in mason jars in the back yard?

The Dow Jones Industrials closed 25 points higher today than it did on March 30, 2007. Quit freaking out and get back to work. Go out and buy something made in America. But don’t pay for it out of your home equity.

It’s that simple.

I’d Better Watch My Back

I was the history major in the family, but RUABelle is the researcher. After our beloved dog passed away a few years ago, she took an appropriate time to open her heart to another animal and then set to work researching what kind of new dog to get. Every day my email box would be filled with listings from petfinder.com. Each of them looked sweet and adorable and pitiful and absolutely in need of a loving household like ours.

My position was that of the executive branch, strictly a veto option. So it’s really my fault that we got Nellie the Nervous Pudelhund who used to bite me and crap and pee all over me. In the end, after a year of loving and diligent training, she has turned into a great member of the family.

After the puppy research was over, new used car fever set in for RUABelle. Back to the internet she went and my email box runnethed over again, this time with posts from cars.com, ebay motors and carmax. Again, I expressed few opinions until she actually took me to drive a car with her after months of deliberation. “I like it.” I said. “You should buy it. I’ll transfer the money into your account on the way to work tomorrow.” She was utterly bumfoozled that I could make such an important decision like that so quickly and actually pull the trigger on the commercial transaction part of the process, but I’m a gatherer-not a hunter.

Again, it was a great choice and we’ve both really enjoyed her vehicle, especially on the one or two occasions a year that she actually lets me drive it.

Then it was dog time again. Nellie needed a little playmate to help wear her out during the day so that we could sleep at night. She endangered my disk storage limits as yet another research effort that would be worthy of a masters thesis ensued until we finally went to a pet adoption day and took home the first dog I held. Behold the wonder that is Rufus.

Again, an excellent choice through our combined efforts.

However last weekend, RUABelle drove my truck and decided it’s a dangerous piece of junk. She sent me links to eight different used cars yesterday. I’d better check my bank account.

I hope she never gets on match.com. Or at the very least that she gives me veto power…

Mea Culpa From the Fed

to: The World Economy

from: Ben Barnanke

Oops, sorry about that. My bad. Next time I’ll try to act a little sooner before I send the global markets into a tailspin. Sorry about all those Krugerrands down the crapper.

Your friend,

Ben

p.s. Can I please borrow a cup of crude oil?

The Latest Master Stroke from the Marketing Geniuses at the Decherd WalMart

Check out that “sell-by” date:

Super Bowl XLII-February 3, 2008. Enjoy your nasty-ass moldy cake, WalMart shoppers.

On a related note, while making up our shopping list, I remembered that we hadn’t treated our septic system in awhile. I told RUABelle to make sure to pick up 3-4 boxes of Rid-X. I should have noticed her arched eyebrow.

I also should have noticed the questioning look and shoulder shrug exchanged between RUABelle and the WalMart cashier as we checked out. It wasn’t until I was unpacking our groceries that I realized that they both apparently thought I have head lice. Anybody need a box of Rid?

Early Voting Thoughts

My dad was a dyed in the wool Republican.  Yet I don’t think he ever voted in a Republican primary.  In an effort to instill a sense of civic duty in me, he used to always take me in the voting booth with him.  After he drew the curtain behind us, he would launch into his version of a political science lecture.

“You see, son, we always vote in the Democrats’ primary.  And we always vote for the weakest Democrat so that he might win and our guys will have an easier opponent to beat.”

And then he would smugly flip the lever for some fringe candidate who would never in a million years have a chance to defeat whichever Democratic candidate already had the party’s support, effectively throwing his vote away.

More than once, he added an extra piece of advice for me to remember when I finally turned eighteen.

“And remember, I don’t think it’ll happen, but if you ever get the chance to vote for a black guy in the Democratic primary, make sure that you do it!  That’ll be the easiest win ever.”

I think I hear his urn spinning on the mantle today.

Now We’ve Done Gone and Done It

Meet the newest member or the CeeElCee family:

He doesn’t have a name yet, but he sure is a cutie! And Nellie the Nervous Pudelhund loves him.

I can’t believe we’re a bipoodler family.

Well, THAT’s Two Hours of My Life I’ll Never Get Back

In its infinite wisdom, the “suggestions” feature of my TiVo decided I would like to record “Red Dawn.”

It was on the AMC channel.

American Movie Classics.

Classics.

Apparently their definition of “classic” is different from mine.

Wolverines!

I Almost Sprained My Neck and Cut My Finger Off

What I thought I heard while chopping broccoli…

RUABelle: “You know what I really want to do tonight?”

Me: “No, sweetie, what?”

RUABelle: “I wanna crack open a bottle of wine, kick back and watch porn!”

Me: “?!?!”

Then I remembered we got The Bourne Ultimatum from NetFlix over the weekend.  I’ve gotta start swabbing my ears better.

The Dry Spot Travel Tip o’ the Week

If you can’t score an exit row on a Southwest flight (cheapskate first class), look at the space between the windows as you walk down the aisle. There’s one row in the front 1/3 of the plane, usually around row 8, that has more space between the windows. That row also has a lot more legroom. Grab it quick before I do.

On the flip side, that row is usually the last one to get their drink order. Life has its little trade-offs…

I’m Not Always a Man of Conviction

When it comes to sports, I often sway with the breeze.  If Stanford or Vanderbilt is playing, I’ll cheer for them.  If Southern Cal, Tennessee or Cal Berkeley is involved, I’ll back whoever they’re playing.  If it’s the Colts vs. the Patriots in the AFC championship game, well…I guess I’ll be rooting for Al Qaeda.

Often I find myself in front of the television during college bowl season or the NFL playoffs without a dog in the hunt.  As long as I don’t have money on the game, I usually just start watching and see who I’m backing based on how I feel after the game starts.  Tonight I thought I was going to root for Jacksonville over Pittsburgh, but as the game progressed, my innate dislike of the Jag-warhs percolated to the surface and I found myself shouting at the screen for the Rothlesburgians.  Good thing I didn’t have any $$ on the game.

And that’s where I find myself in the presidential primaries.  I’m just watching the game to see who I surprise myself with by rooting for them.  That Dennis Kucinich was a cute little feller.  I missed him tonight.  I guess I’ll have to start paying some attention now.

Where I Get All Resolute and Stuff

It’s January 3rd.  Is it too late for resolutions?

In honor of three of my favorite bloghotties, I thought about declaring that I was going vegan this year.

Then I spent the past four days in Sin City.  I think instead that I’m gonna become a Las Vegan.

Therefore, I hereby resolve in 2008 to only eat foods that are available from a minibar or from the International Smorgasbord Mega Buffet and Foodbar at the Rio Hotel and Casino.

I figure I can pull that off…