Strange Weekend Happenings

Strange Happening FRIDAY:
Happy Hour with several colleagues at the usual watering hole. Everything seemed business as usual, until the waitress brought out a basket of chips with strange suggestive filigree adornments. I'm not sure what kind of snacks this bar is pushing, I'll let you be the judge of that, but it sure brought a smile to my face. These images also brought on a long discussion of a possible book compilation; photos of porn in unexpected places. Expect to see it in stores by next Christmas.
Strange Happening SATURDAY:
After a long day of car shopping with my parents, a night out was in order. Unfortunately, I had missed the Jackon sister caravan to karaoke, but a friend called me Saturday night and invited me to a beer festival being held at a German club in Pittsburgh. The only information I got was that it was a private German club, but was open to the public tonight and there would be German beer. That's all the information I needed. I was in. When he and I arrived, we were greeted in the parking lot by a young man on a cellphone in full Leiderhosen regalia. I knew this would be a good night. Perhaps the strangest and most awkward portion of the evening was when a traditional mens dancing troupe of about 12 took the floor to perform a dance that can only be described as standing 69-position ass slapping in synchronization. Whatever you're picturing is pretty accurate. (Unfortunately I didn't think to take a picture for the new photo book to be published). About 3 pitchers of lager and several German toasts later, I found myself in the after hours Rathskeller drinking with the locals (after we got kicked out once for not being members).Strange Happening SUNDAY:
As I was flipping through the channels yesterday, a caption under John McCain caught my eye on CNN. I certainly think this a valid and winning promise for the next president.

Also, saw this bumper sticker in the grocery store parking lot. I'll let this one speak for itself.

It's Been So Long...

Well readers, it's been a or while. Quite a long while actually. So long, that blogger has changed the main page since I last logged on. As you may have guessed, I've been less than inspired or motivated to blog, let alone even turn on my computer, hence the sporadic and lackluster posting.


I do however feel the need to share that my niece Ellie starts kindergarten tomorrow. Something that completely blows my mind. Ahh, it seems like only yesterday that was I fretting that my sister may have her baby during coveted ALF time and I would have to miss a second of the festivities. And now, five and a half years later, she's officially a "grade schooler". And apparently a self-reflective teenybopping grade schooler, considering our phone conversation this evening thanking me for some "back to school mad money" I sent her late last week:

Ellie: "Thanks for the money Drewby!"
Me: "You're welcome. What are you going to buy with it?"
Ellie: "Oh, I already bought some school supplies"
(*note: fun money is never to be spent on school supplies)
Me: "School supplies? Why?"
Ellie: "Because I needed a Hannah Montana diary."

Apparently kindergarten writing assignments have changed a bit since I've been there.

...'Cuase I'm A Creep...

As you may or may not know, Monday evening was the coveted Radiohead concert attendance by yours truly and a couple colleagues in Cleveland. The concert was nothing short of amazing. Even if you're not a Radiohead fan, the lighting effects and random shower busts of hundreds of glow-sticks from the back of the venue alone would have left you in amazement. I also remained surprisingly sober (based of the previous concert attendances this summer, that is something of a feat) and I'm glad I did. The show was sold out, so we were packed in like sardines, but once Thom Yorke and gang took the stage, it didn't much matter. My 2 beefs of the evening:

• No Karma Police, which I was expecting at least as an encore. Although "Paranoid Android" (or Paranoid Andrew as it is sometimes called) made a surprise early appearance in the show, to which I went crazy.

• When we returned to my vehicle in the parking lot (which we had a hell of a time finding) we hung out, tailgated some more, listened to my car stereo and waited for the traffic to lighten up a bit. At 1 am, packed up and ready to go, my car was dead. Like really dead. Luckily there were some good drunk Samaritans there to help us out.

Besides the two mini-disasters, the show was awesome and I'm ready for the next Radiohead show.

	Radiohead - Karma Police
	Found at skreemr.com

Why My Parents Rock

This "Welcome Home" present, a toilet bowl brush that looks like George W. Bush, was waiting for me at their house when I returned from California:

I'm Baaack!

I've successfully completed my whirlwind tour of southern California with my grandfather which, all in all, was a pretty good time.

Perhaps the most interesting, or at least exciting, part of the trip actually occurred on the way back, so I'll start at the end. Perhaps by now you've heard of the minor earthquake that happened yesterday in the L.A. area? Well, Gramps and I was sitting in the airport not too far from the epicenter when it all went down. This being my first real earthquake (besides several small tremors I experienced in South America) I was a bit confused as to what was happening. Much to my chagrin, I quickly snapped into right-wing fear tactic mode and was certain that a plane had careened into the side of the airport, no doubt at the hands of terrorists. However my response was quickly assuaged when the rumbling continued, and when I saw the hanging lights and signs swaying like streamers from the ceiling, I realized that we were in fact not under attack by those pesky terrorists, but rather by Mother Nature.
Being the good Samaritan that I am, after the quake I walked over to an elderly woman in the terminal sitting in a wheelchair by herself, and asked if she was O.K. She quickly explained that she was from Texas, absolutely terrified and "Ohh Sug-ah, I need ohn that Gohd Damned plane raaht NOW!". So I wheeled her over next to Gramps and I, and she just chatted up a Southern Belle storm with my grandpa, usually accentuating whatever she was talking about with how horribly scary the earthquake was. (For reference it wasn't that bad).
I sat and listened to their conversation for a while, until it turned to politics, and she proclaimed the glory and righteousness that is George Bush and his maniacal political party, which pissed both me and Gramps off, but I was the only one who took
the bait and started making digs. I quickly caught myself using words like "embarrassment" and "racist" and decided that I had no business arguing politics with a 75 year old Texan who just suffered through her first earthquake. So I went to The Coffee Bean.

I will not bore you with all the minute details of the trip, however I did get to see a bit of San Francisco, got to swim in the Pacific, took a tram to one of highest points in California, and did a little hiking* on some amazing trails in the desert where I saw a herd of big-horned sheep and caves with Native American hieroglyphs.

I also learned some incredible and incredibly humorous things from and about my grandfather and had many interesting experiences with him and his two brothers.

In the original version of this post, I listed several quotes and stories that were told by my grandfather and his brothers about growing up and past experiences that stood out in my memory. However, after re-reading the post several times, I realized only the dodgey and morally questionable bits were listed, which in turn made my experience and family sound a bit trashy. So, I have modified the post with a few pictures from my trip. I will be posting random things from my trip in the future (somehow spread out, the trashiness will be lessened). But until then, I leave you with this quote:

"I'm Little Willy from Southern Philly, he's Long Dong from Hong Kong, and he's Big Dork from New York".


*I use the term "hiking" VERY loosely.


Photos:
1: View on tram new Palm Springs, CA
2: Pacific Ocean, Carlsbad, CA
3: Herd of sheep
4: Trail in Joshua Tree National Park
5: Small portion of San Diego skyline
6: Cave with Native American hieroglyphs

Marchons, Marchons...!

Joyeux Jour de la Bastille to everyone!

Today, as France celebrates, I embark on my trip to California with my grandpa. I'll be gone until then end of the month, and am not sure if I'll be updating anything until then. If not, I'll update when I get back with all the stories and hilarity that will ensue as Gramps and I take on the west coast.

Happy Birthday To...

..well, ME! Today I've reached the quarter-century mark in my life, and in true child of the 80's fashion I'll be celebrating my birthday today at the Steve Miller Band concert with some good friends. Nothing fancy and no bar hopping, just some good old fashioned concert drinking! I'm not necessarily a huge Steve Miller fan, nor do I know a ton of his music, but I'm anticipating this concert to be a great time!



(*Note: In honor of The Steve Miller Band's appearance in "da 'Burgh", the lyrics to this song have temporarily been changed to "Abra-abracadabrinz, I wanna reach out and grab yinz")

Behold Loafer's Dog

In response to the post below, You were right Julia, it was a Silky Terrier. Something that definitely does not belong in a car garage.

How Rude!

Since when did the blatant lack of common courtesy become the social norm? I've never understood how some people manage to go about their daily lives completely unaware of their sheer rudeness. I base this post on the happenings today while running errands.

It all starts as I arrived at the car garage for my 11 am oil change appointment. As I approached the entrance, I hesitated to open the door as I saw on the other side of the glass an 18-month old named Ethan (I know these facts because while I was waiting for my car I began eavesdropping on the conversations with Ethan's mother and other customers who seemed to genuinely give a shit about his recent walking then running developments). Ethan was barely holding a retractable dog leash to which was attached some breed of dog that resembled a bigger Yorkshire Terrier (Julia, help me out with this one). I didn't open the door because I was afraid that Ethan, the dog, or both would go bolting out into to traffic, and the blood would be on my hands. So instead, I waited, expecting, for his mother to come scoop him up. Waited...waited...nothing, just Ethan and the dog staring. So I entered the store, and tried to hold back the toddler and dog.

As I'm talking to the man behind the counter, the dog somehow escaped the clutches of an 18-month old and began jumping on and licking my left leg. Completely annoyed by this point, instead of reaching down and acknowledging the animal, I just shook my leg until it went away. Suddenly, and man behind me in khaki short-shorts and penny loafers (you know the type), who actually turned out to be the dog's owner, not Ethan, said "Woah, look out Buddy, looks like we don't have a 'dog person' here." To which I turned around and explained to the man that I do, in fact, like dogs, just not strangers dogs jumping on me in public places. Loafers and I didn't exchange anymore smalltalk after that.
(Side note: why do people bring their lap dogs to the car garage?)

After speaking with the attendant, I turned around to the crowded waiting room to find no available seats. No, there weren't THAT many people in the room, one seat was taken up by a woman's over sized handbag, another by Loafer's dog, and yet another by Ethan. Less than impressed, I stood in the corner next to a stack of Michelin tires and sipped my coffee and read my book in disgust. (finally, the toddler moved and scrambled to steal his seat.)

Fast-forward twenty minutes, and Ethan's mom is ready to go, but apparently not Ethan as he ran across the waiting room jumped into he chair directly next to mine and began screaming as he pulled relentlessly on my arm. I thought I gave of a sufficiently annoyed vibe, but I guess not because mom just smiled and said "Oh, do you want to stay and play with him?". No he doesn't, go home. Ok, thanks.

About five minutes after they leave, a woman starts bitching to no one in particular about how she's been there since 8 am. Bitchworthy indeed, but I'm not going to get your struts replaced. In response to the complaint Loafers says, and I quote, "Squeaky wheel gets the oil, darling, tell one of those guys." Darling? Darling to a complete stranger? With that I got up and walked out to have a smoke. I couldn't take it anymore.

I then stopped at Panera for a quick lunch. As I'm waiting for my Bacon Turkey Bravo, I find myself next to yet another toddler holding a large sized fountain drink. When I look down at him, he promptly and what seemed deliberately dropped the full drink, which then exploded on the floor. Instead of mom bringing that to the attention of one of the workers, she instead scooped up Junior and headed for the door. What? Really? I witnessed a similar situation once and the Dairy Queen when a teenager and her father were eating their Blizzards and the daughter dropped hers on the floor. Again, instead of Dad alerting someone of the mess, he said "Hurry up and let's get out of here". What the hell? Who are these idiots raising children? I stand firm in my controversial opinion that people should pass a test before being allowed to procreate.

Rudeness abounds in the area it seems, and it grates on me a little more each day. I'm not sure if it's the pseudo-swanky suburban housewives with their gas guzzlers and bug-eyed designer shades or the general disinterest in others is just part of a new culture, but it's annoying the piss out of me.

I refer to the first stop of my day to illustrate the other extreme of rudeness: the drive through at Starbucks. I usually avoid going there in the morning because the people are overly nice and considerate, annoyingly so, and to the point where you question it's genuineness. When the lady at the window told me that I looked "very handsome today" (note: at this point I had not yet showered, was wearing my glasses, a ripped Nike T-shirt and a hat with grass stains on it) and to "enjoy my delicious latte on this gorgeous day" (second note: it was thunder storming at the time) I just about lost my shit. Isn't there a happy medium we can all get to, not blatant disregard and letting Fido jump on strangers, but not overcompensating your own depression by dripping strangers in 2-cent and made-up compliments? Really people, get it together.

Disturbing Yet Intriguing Things I Find On Everyday Adventures

While browsing the aisles at WalMart yesterday, I came across this little gem in the vacuum aisle. Apparently someone felt the need to replace the price and information card with this cryptic spiritual message:

DISTURBING YET INTRIGUING.


After my shopping encounter, I stopped to grab some food at a nearby restaurant. While waiting, I was being stared down by an extremely out of place, over sized white rabbit in a top hat.

DISTURBING YET INTRIGUING.

Photo Essay Of My 4th Of July Experience

His name is "Bunkey"

Any half chub in gold looks bigger.

It's hard to tell, but there is a man in an outhouse in the back of a pickup truck with his pants down.

Men who can't wait to get away from their wives.


Best patriotic line of the day: "Sorry about your dick weeping cancer, Greg."

HAPPY 4TH!

Hello, My Name Is Drewby. Remember Me?

Since leaving my blogging regimen (or better, sporadic blogging) this is what I've been up to:

After what seemed like an eternity, my final day of work finally arrived last Friday and in typical fashion, I celebrated with many drinks with friends. Which made more an interesting Saturday morning when I had to wake up early to make the trek north to my parents for a wedding that night. As you may know, weddings are not my favorite affairs, and I typically go into them with a rather pessimistic "I give it 2 years" kind of attitude. I would like to sat this wedding was different, but I can not. A very old childhood friend of mine married his high school sweetheart in a town next to where we grew up. Lovely wedding, lovely reception (cash bar, but I digress...) blah blah blah. Deez Nuts made the trip north with me, so at least I had some entertainment. What had planned on a weekend trip, be back home Sunday turned into a four day event. Due mostly to various members of my family coming up with plans and events that made me feel guilty for leaving. Highlights included eating huge meals, sleeping, eating more, chilling in the hot tub, or "Cajoozie" as my gramps calls it, eating and then going out to eat. It was a great relaxing weekend, but I was more than ready to leave this morning. So after an early rise this morning and a brief stop in Clarion for breakfast with a former professor (Elisabeth, if you're there, I apologize) I'm back at my place. Unfortunately, I did not get to visit with anyone other than my immediate family this weekend, so if you're from home reading this, don't kill me.

Another highlight of the trip was witnessing the phenomenon of my hometown, the preparation for the 4th of July parade. Presumably because there is nothing else to do or look forward to in this town, locals line the parade route 3 to 5 days in advance with lawn chairs in order to get an excellent view of the mediocre parade. Most are linked together with rope to avoid easy theft, but the good seats, the REALLY good seats are chained to street signs and utility poles. (side note: it has always been a mischievous fantasy for one friend and I to saturate the entire street of chairs with maple syrup the night of July 3rd. Unfortunately it didn't happen this year, but I feel next year might be the year. Just imagine what the people in Meyersdale would say! )(Photos courtesy of Dee from my moving vehicle)

So now I am back at home refreshed and ready to tackle the lazy summer days ahead. I realized the other day that, because of my shortened summer, I had not yet prepared my summer reading stack. So, in order to get motivated, I made a trip to Barnes & Noble this afternoon, which is always an economic disaster. After an hour or so of browsing, reading and Starbucks, I managed to get away with only 3 purchases: "Drown" by Junot Diaz (I really wanted "The brief wondrous life of Oscar Wao, but it won't be in until September), an Isabel Allende novel, and Miranda July's new book of stories (Jen-nay, it's all yours when I'm finished). Any other suggestions for the summer stack are more than welcome!

New Jam I'm Currently Digging

Death Cab For Cutie "I Will Possess Your Heart"

I've heard this jam on the radio several times, and for some reason I'm digging it. It's a combination of the lyrics and trendy haunting melody. Borderline too indie, but I like. I actually went out and bought the entire cd because of this song, and the album isn't all like this one, but overall I think it's a pretty good album.

Three Purchases Made Today Of Things I Don't Need With Money I Don't Have.

Not So Yum-O

I found this article last month, and have been meaning to blog about it's ridiculousness for a while. The gist of the story is that some conservative right-wingers had beef with Rachael Ray's new Dunkin' Donuts commercial. Not because Republicans don't allow themselves simple joys like donuts or even that Rachael's voice distracts them from their work of sucking souls, but because of what she is wearing. Apparently Republican's have become the fashion police, the global fashion police. Surprise surprise, something else for them to have their panties in a bunch about. According to the MSNBC article, right wing people with some pull claimed that Rachael is wearing what appeared to be a kaffiyeh, which is an Arab head wrap. This of course confuses the general American audience, and tricks them into believing that supporting religious radicals and terrorists is a good thing, and now can't make the difference between a greasy donut-pushing television host and a Muslim extremist.

To me, (and probably anyone else with a rational bone in their body) the scarf looks like a hip fashion trend. I actually like the look, and wouldn't mind having one like it. In fact, Kanye West is even wearing one in his new video with Chris Martin. Oh wait, he already is the enemy of the Bush regime. What's worse, instead of Dunkin' Donuts' advertising team standing up to these goons and defending this ridiculous claim, they pulled the ad! Whatever Dunkin' Donuts, whatever.

What prompted me to finally get around to writing about this article was a conversation I had with a woman who I met at a wedding this weekend. This woman works for an advertising agency which handles some of Rachael Ray's products, which means this woman has met and worked with Rachael herself. I was a little bit surprised to hear her tell me that in real life, behind the camera and the overly kitschy Catskill Mountains charm, Rachael is "a total bitch". According to my conversation, she's a chain-smoker who won't leave Manhattan. I personally enjoy this little bit of information about Rachael. She seems a little too cute and campy on her shows (and her talk show is a disaster), so the smoking and bad attitude give her a bit of cred in my opinion. Terrorist sympathizer or not, any chain-smoking, trash-talking, beer-swilling mountain girl is my type of TV Chef.

Daddy-o!

In honor of Fathers Day, I present to you my father circa 1971. My dad and I have a healthy, but strange father-son relationship which includes small talk usually over several beers. Many people say that I get my temperament (not to mention charming good looks!) from my father. The man has the patience of a saint, but let things build up a little too much, and one small thing will send him (or anyone in his path) overboard. I consider myself to be pretty much the same way.

As I get older, I am also beginning to realize that I not only inherited his temperament, but also tinges of his anal-retentiveness and need for things to be organized. Not just tidied up in a pile, but turbo-organized. Now, in my defense, I'm not nearly as filed and labeled as my father (yet), but I'm close. The first time he came to my apartment and saw that my dress shirts were organized in my closet by color he was beaming with pride. Keep in mind that this is also the an who has every bank statement and canceled check from the past 20 years. While helping me move a huge recliner that my parents have given to me which was bought several years before I was born, I joked about him still hanging on the sales receipt for the thing. Sure enough, upon return home, he sorted through some file folders, found one labeled "1980" and there was the damned receipt. So why do my forks have to be facing the same direction, or my belts rolled and stacked in the drawer? My Pops.

So here's to you Daddy-o, and all fathers. Happy Fathers Day!

FOUND:

beside the parking lot of my apartment building today at 4:01 pm:

Open Letter To WalMart And All Applicable Companies, Associates and Customer

Dear WalMart,

You have me right where you want me, and I applaud your marketing skills and ploys that got me there. However, a few things need to be brought to your attention. First may I recommend a fresher produce section, as I discovered the green pepper I purchased today was mush at the bottom. Normally I would check for such things, but a busy mother of four was hustling me out of the vegetable aisle, so I grabbed and ran. Also a routine maintenance check on shopping carts might be in order, since for the past several times, my cart had at least one wheel that simply would not turn.

As for your greeting card section, it became apparent to me this evening that unless you are a child of 6 years or less, a daughter or married, finding an appropriate Father's Day card is near impossible. I did end up purchasing a card for my father at your store which had a reasonable sentiment, however it was laden with scripture, which goes completely against my better judgment. I'm quite sure this is part of an elaborate religious right scheme by your company which has yet to be uncovered. Further more, I felt the need to explain my selection to the check-out associate as he looked over my card by saying "It's the only one I could find." I'd prefer if next time he didn't read my purchases.

While on the topic of checking out. Perhaps a more rigorous enforcement of the "20 items or less" policy could be considered. The pair of less than savory women in two-size-too-small denim short shorts bought well over their fair 20 items in skimpy swim suits and black "Peace Love and Elmo" tank tops (side bar: you may consider pulling those from the shelves completely) while shamelessly flirting with the aforementioned sales associate held the line for much longer than necessary. Which not only annoyed me, but also the young father and two screaming toddler girls behind me, who in turn annoyed me even further.

And to the Tropicana company, please restock the organic apple and pear juice. It is my favorite, and I get very angry at WalMart for not carrying it.

Also, WalMart, your brand new "McCafe" isn't fooling anyone. It's clearly a McDonald's with a better decor and a coffee machine that congests the entrance to your store.

I do hope you take my suggestions into consideration, as you will undoubtedly suck me back into your low priced web again.

Oh, and I saw a mother and her son in the cereal aisle eat all the chicken fingers they just picked up from the deli and threw the container away without paying.

Update

What have I been up to as of late you ask? Well, not a whole lot, but here's a week-in review submitted for your reading pleasure.

• The Dave Matthew's concert was a smashing success, I think. I'm ashamed to say that I paid absolutely no attention to the performance, but had a great time anyway. The traditional tailgating ritual turned into a frat party about a half an hour into it when it was decided that "shotgunning" beers was in order. That was the downfall of the entire night as I see it. But it was complete with gourmet burgers, peeing in the woods and a visit from some random pot-smoking stranger-friends sporting "Dee's Nuts" tee-shirts. Fast-forward about 4 hours to the concert which included $8 beers, a lost pair of shoes and a French-speaking friend and I running through the crowd jumping over people and yelling "It's O.K.! We Speak French."
• I'm preparing myself for a golf outing for work this coming weekend. My foursome includes myself and 3 middle aged women. All of whom play little to no golf. I've been out golfing maybe three times before, none of which would I ever consider elevated my playing ability. Stay tuned for the embarrassing update and pictures.
• I've been on the hunt for a new place to live with no luck in sight. My current living situation is alright, however I'm growing very tired of living under and over someone. Buying is not an option a) because I have no desire for the financial and physical responsibilities b) I am in absolutely no position to cough up any amount of house-buying cash. My search by word of mouth and online has made me feel frustrated and inadequate on a number of levels and am starting to resign myself to signing over another lease for my apartment, at least for one more year.
• I was told today by a 14 year old that I certainly wasn't the type of person to party or have fun and probably find myself sipping tea instead of "really partying". Actually, I think the term "with your pinky up" was included also. I simply agreed in modest humility and neglected to tell the youngster that I had a hard time remembering my name the previous weekend.
• Yesterday evening, in search for something "Mmm Mmm Mmm Toasty" and over priced, I dropped by Quizno's for dinner. When I asked the kid making my sandwich for the "Turkey Bacon Guacamole" sandwich, his only reply was "Gross", and made my meal in silence. Ok, thanks Quizno's kid, my guamalee was, in fact, quite delicious.
• Along with my housing search, I've also been looking (although with an obvious lack of enthusiasm) for graduate programs to obtain a Master's degree. My specifications are a bit specific, as I want/need an intensive summer program, however, the idea of it all stresses me out to the extent that every time I begin to do some research I have to take a permanent break.
• Over the weekend I watched the entire first season of "Big Love" which I really do love. I'm not sure if it's the creepy/well-written story line or the fact that you're guaranteed a graphic sex-scene in every episode, but I'm definitely a fan of the series.