Busy Busy Busy...

Sorry to skip a day again, loyal readers, but I spent every spare minute of Saturday helping my in-laws, who came down to spend the morning tearing all the fixtures and flooring out of my bathroom, and all evening replacing everything. It was an early AM to very late PM work-fest, but we pulled out a lot of rotted floor, and can rest a lot easier knowing that we won't suddenly find ourselves sitting in the basement on a pile of broken porcelain with our pants around our ankles.

Some more of the "Local Color"

Hey blogophiles...

A couple of weeks ago, when I brought you all along to the Sharp Shopper with me, I also ran some other errands "Off the Mountain".

The place where I live is right at the intersection of three Tennessee Counties. The City Limits of Monteagle itself lies in two of these counties, Marion and Grundy. Just about every phone call around these parts is a long distance call, even if it's just across the street. When we first moved to the area, we lived in Grundy County. Then we moved about four blocks, and we lived in Marion County. We moved on Election Day, 2004 - So I voted in Grundy County that morning, and moved to Marion County that night. (and had to change my voter's registration)

So now I live in Marion County, and work in both Grundy County and Franklin County. All of this happens within a radius of about 4 miles.

Well, I had to go to the Marion County Courthouse to renew my car's (Franklin County) Registration, and I knew that if I was going to Jasper, I wanted to take a picture of something. The first time I encountered this sign, I reached for my camera-phone to take a picture of it, only to find that I had left it at home. By the next time I saw it, I no longer owned a camera-phone. Now, armed with a functioning 1.3 megapixel camera, I was going to Jasper, TN, and there was a stop I knew I needed to make on the way to the Court Building.

Well, It appears several Protestant Denominations were correct All Along......

Side Note: I wonder if the store's proprietor (ostensibly Lucifer himself) didn't know about apostrophes, or just couldn't afford one....? (or maybe the store sells lucifers, as well as liquors?)

I took a few other Pictures that day, to show those of you Blog readers who have never lived in the Rural South what you are (or, in all likelihood, are not) missing:


This was the place next door to "Lucifers Liquors" With a name like this, it's amazing to note that they are now out of business.
Really, VCR AND tape rental? This posits all kinds of questions... Did they actually rent VCR's there? Did they rent other kinds of tape? (audio cassette, duct, masking, scotch...)
Doesn't this name seem rather depressing? "What did you bring us from town today Mama? oh... another video...."

I also went by the "Dixie Freeze" on the way home. The funny thing is, this place seems to be located smack in the middle of a neighborhood where the majority of residents are African-American.

I wondered if the had any of them "french fried pertaters" that Carl from Sling Blade liked so much.

And if the Dixie Freeze didn't offend, then this should...

Noted, without Comment.

One of my favorite knock-knock

One of my favorite knock-knock jokes:
me: knock knock!
you: who's there?
me: impatient cow.
you: impatie...
me (interrupting): MOO!

Comments A-Go-Go!

Thank you to everyone who has been leaving comments. I have just gone through and replied to the last batch, so If you left a comment in the last seven days, you probably have a response from me.

Again, thanks to all my commenters! You guys keep me from feeling like I am talking to myself, and help me feel connected from way out here in the boonies where I live.

Dap's Hidden Past!

Hey there, Blogreader-type-peoples! In case you didn't notice, the creative juices have slowed to a trickle lately here at The Really Very Nearly Daily Blog of the Almost Every Day.

What I have been Not Doing, Blog-wise, I have been making up for... uh... Domestically-Wise. As I mentioned in my last post, I spent a big chunk of Sunday cleaning/re-organizing/de-cluttering my living room, and hooking up my awesome Turntable/8-Track/Cassette/AM/FM Hi-Fidelity Stereo System to my DVD player, So that my cinematic experience will now have huge sound along with the 17-inch picture.

The Stereo System had been previously sitting unused for the last two-and-a-half years, much of that time in my house's "Rec Room". The Rec Room is the largest room in the house. It had previously been a back patio, or carport, until the previous owners of the house decided they wanted a pool table, but didn't have a room large enough for one. Well, the owners took their pool table with them when we bought the place, and without that one massive and prominent piece of furniture, the room looks large,extremely low-ceilinged, and bare.

Or it did, until we started piling all of our crap in there.

Most of the aforementioned crap is a pile of lumber salvaged from last October's massive upstairs Demolition/Insulation/Remodel. The pile of lumber was about 12 feet long, 1 foot high, and 6 feet wide, thereby taking up a very large portion of the floor. I FINALLY got tired of having to step around all that wood on the rare occasion that I wanted to access the room's other contents, so I got out my miter saw and my hammer and constructed two big, roughly "U"-shaped brackets designed to wrangle all that lumber into a pile 3 feet high by 2 feet wide.

After putting about 90 minutes of work into the pile, I had opened up a large expanse of really dirty flooring. 10 more minutes with a broom and vacuum, and I had a nice clean patch of floor that couldn't help but point out how non-clean all the other floor surrounding it was. This, of course, made me notice the Stereo lying uselessly in the corner, which led to a re-configuring of my TV stand, which led to some other furniture re-organization and de-cluttering, all of which has fed the self perpetuating string of accomplishment, motivation, and more accomplishment.

So yesterday, riding that high tide of motivation, I set out to move the big pile of "Sentimental Value" items out of the corner of the Rec Room. Several boxes of this stuff belong to my brother, who moved across the country a couple of years ago with only what would fit in his Saturn Coupe. I agreed to "hold on to" his stuff, until he was ready for it, since I had such ample storage space in my huge new house.

Well, the boxes of his stuff had been opened at a couple of points, and some of my keepsake items that got chucked in the same corner got a little mixed in with his stuff. I wanted to sort my stuff out from amongst his, and consolidate his remaining stuff into fewer, fuller boxes, since some of his stuff had been returned to him already. (And some stuff only made the attempt... By the way, Bro, The Postmaster Here says that you need to check for your package at the Post Office There before we go to the next step, of checking Dead-letter offices and such...)

In the ensuing Sentiment-Storm, I uncovered My old Wedding Invitations, honeymoon pictures, old sketchpads, old classroom doodles and more. (Jeremy, We were SOOooo hooked on CCG's it really is not even funny!) But the one thing, out of all the stuff I went through, that really caught my eye was this, the possible first-ever appearance of one of DSPN's most well-loved Sportscasters, Dap Spackling.

For why Dappy seems to be making animal noises, a look at the doodle in context, below...

This picture is from at least 11 years ago. It is possible that this is my brother's work, but I suspect that it is actually the work of our mutual friend and fellow Collectible Card Gaming Addict, Jamie, who is now on MySpace under the name Esteban De La Sexface, for reasons I dare not fathom. It was actually a can of Spackling compound located at Jamie's house that first prompted Jeremy to mention what a great News-Anchor name "Dap Spackling" would be.

When Dap changed the original Germanic spelling of his last name will possibly forever remain a mystery.

Oh, and In Case You were wondering... Dirk Beverage (and the Roving Performance-Artists with whom he recently had a run-in) came from the Bizzare, Nashville-based Indy Film, Existo.

As for the beautiful and talented Corian Counters, Her name was inspired by newswoman Formica Davis in the Mike Judge film, Idiocracy. (Formica's Co-Host was named Velveeta, and The President's full name is "Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho". This Movie is really funny about 48 hours after you watch it.)

My Sweet Home Theater Setup!

Posting by cellphone today, thinking of making it a Sunday tradition. Didn't get to a PC today, spent the day cleaning house, and hooking up my totally sweet 70's Hi-Fi sound system to my DVD player and TV. Now I get rockin' sound with my movies... And I can play 8-Tracks, too!

Stray Kitty Update - Week One.

Well It has been a week since We took in Toot, Straggliest Stray in history, and I figured I would update you readers, who had a hand in naming her, and who are undoubtedly concerned about her well being.

After one Week in the Care of the Frank Gibson Animal Rescue Foundation (F.G.A.R.F.) Lil' Tooty is doing much better. After only 48 hours of adequate food, water, and shelter (and lovin'), the fur began regrowing on her formerly bald, pink, ears. After getting her tapeworm medication on Monday, She has gained a small bit of padding around her neck and shoulders, which means that her skeleton now makes up only 85% percent of her body weight , down from 90% when we first found her. Her hips are still frighteningly bony, and she cries when ever you touch certain spots on her abdomen, but lots of small victories so far.

The Bad news is that since she's moved in, I've hardly seen my other two cats. She is not super-eager to get along with her two new roommates, and Marbles (the other Small Black Female) seems to be returning the disfavor. PC, of course is pretty cool and laid back about it, as he is with everything nowadays. He even gets along with Pepper, our hyperactive, 65-pound Dalmatian, for crying out loud! Of course, just because he's laid-back and groovy, doesn't mean he's going to stick around where he's getting hissed at around every corner, and with the weather being really nice out lately, Toots has been the only cat in the house for most of the last week.

I also figured out when calling her "Tootsie" this week, that it makes more sense if you spell it Tutsi, as in the Rwandan people who were the targets of the vicious attempt at genocide by their Hutu neighbors. She is black, and she has been pretty severely persecuted by someone or something, to the point of mutilation. I try not to call her that much, because it is too sad.

So, to pick up the mood and end on a happy note, I will end this post with a list of various other nicknames you can give a cat whose official name is "Toot".

• Toot-Toot (this is more or less her standard nickname)
  
• Tooty-Frooty
• Tootsie Pop
• Tootles
• Tootankhamen, or "King Toot"
• Tooter-pooter
• Tootie-Cutie

Or

• You #$%@#ing little $%*&#*!!

We use that last one when she gets in our bed, and "lets fly" with one of her incredibly disgusting kitty-farts.

The Daily Word of the Day is... Fungible

Okay, let me just put this out there...

Hugo Chavez does not care where you buy your gasoline from. I know a lot of people think that he does. but he doesn't. I promise.

I work, as my regular readers know, at a gas station. That gas station happens to have a big Citgo sign out front. For now. The Truck that delivers our gas doesn't say "Citgo" on it, though. It says "Eagle Transport".

Soon, I have been told, We will no longer be a Citgo station, but a Texaco station. This is probably due in part to the ill-informed, but well-intentioned, boycott of Citgo Gas Stations by people who live their lives in accordance with instructions sent to them in E-Mail Forwards.

I have a hunch, though, that our delivery trucks will not change. What those trucks have in them is refined gasoline. The refined gasoline in those trucks is, as of now, usually, with occasional exceptions, from a Citgo refinery located in Texas. The Crude Oil that they refine there in Texas, might come from Venezuela. Unless crude from Iran, or Argentina, or Saudi Arabia, or Iraq, or Alaska, or right there in Texas was cheaper that day.

So when you buy your Gasoline at the pump, you are buying it from an American Employee in an American Store which got its Refined Product delivered along American Roads, in an American Truck, from an American Refinery, which provides lots of American Jobs to American Workers, with American Taxes collected at every point along the way.

That refinery May (or May Not) have gotten its Unrefined Product from a foreign entity, which May (or May Not) have been Communist, Islamic, Theocratic, Catholic, Secular, Democratic, or Otherwise. And this is the case NO MATTER WHAT BRAND HAS ITS SIGN ON THE BUILDING!

Let me break this down another way. If your town has a Citgo Station across the street from an Exxon Station, and you and all your neighbors (according to the instructions in your e-mail) only buy gas from the Exxon Station, then pretty soon the Exxon station is going to run out of gasoline. Then when they have to buy some more, they are going to look for a company that has some extra, unsold, gas sitting around that they want to sell cheap. Why, Citgo's gas is on sale this week!

So, come the next week, your local Exxon Station will be selling Exxon Gas that had been Citgo gas the week before. And you know who got the money for that? Hugo Chavez and his Evil Minions of Death! (The ones who gave low-income Americans all that free heating oil right after Hurricane Katrina, when our own government refused to offer assistance.) I know this happens - I have been there and signed the papers acknowledging that instead of getting our usual gas, we have, on a few occasions, been selling BP gas at our Citgo Station, in our Citgo-Branded (soon to be Texaco-Branded) pumps.

We can do this because Gas is Fungible. That means "interchangeable" A gallon of gasoline is a gallon of gasoline no matter where it started out. By the time it gets to you, the "End-User", The only thing you can reliably guess about that gallon of Gasoline, is that it changed hands in the cheapest way possible, with each step of the demand-chain buying it from the cheapest available supplier at the time.

Actually, the only way to make sure that Hugo Chavez and his Evil Minions of Death are less well funded, is to reduce the value of all oil, EVERYWHERE. The way to do this is not to buy gas from one company or another, but to stop buying gas altogether! Or at least substantially reduce the amount of gas you (and everybody else) consumes. That Email forward didn't get nearly as popular, though.

So, buy your gas where it is cheapest or most convenient for you, and leave the international economic pressuring to the professionals. And When you get an E-Mail Forward with a Tasty bit of "News", go to Snopes.com to check the facts before acting on it, please?

Want to start not-buying things? Start by not-buying this!

I am generally a very environmentally conscious guy. I walk rather than drive wherever practical, ride an 80 MPG motorscooter at risk of life and limb (and Divorce), and I am pretty religous about the "3 R's" of Environmental Responsibility: Reduce , Reuse and Recycle.

The Second and Third of those "R's" conflict with the having a clean house that's free of Junk. It's not just me; this gets a lot of people in trouble. "I better not throw this out, I could reuse it someday," they say. "I will save this, and give it to my neighbor/favorite charity/heir" As a result, They end up with an accumulation of:

1. Fabric scraps
2. Wires and cables
3. Mismatched Tupperware containers/lids
4. Promotional t-shirts/caps/buttons/magnets/tote bags/whistles/lanyards/etc.
5. Scraps of wood/tile/chicken-wire
6. Computers and/or computer parts
7. Pre-digital cameras/film/equipment
8. Ace Ventura, Pet Detective and Ghost Dad on VHS tape
9. "Queen's Greatest Hits" Cassette Tapes
   
10. 1.44 MB Floppy Disks
11. 1/4 Full buckets of paint
12. And so on, and so on, and so on....
    

The cure for this, of course, is the first "R", REDUCE. This is where the often-competing "Be Earth-Friendly" and "Keep an Uncluttered Home" motivations line up perfectly. Avoid getting a bunch of stuff in the first place, and you won't be faced with the conundrum of responsibly disposing of it once it inevitably becomes unwanted junk. And, to state the obvious, you save lots of money by not buying stuff, too. This appeals to the "Be A Real Tightwad" motivation. The number of furniture pieces in my home that I bought from a store can be counted on one hand. And I don't even need most of the hand. My wife and I have had the vast majority of our furniture given to us - by family, friends, church members, and co-workers. Same goes for our electronics; our TV/VCR, Microwave, and both of our DVD players were given to us, and my desktop computer is made from mostly discarded parts.

There are, as you might expect, problems with this approach to life. The TV/VCR combo has several features that cannot be used without the original remote control, which Becca's dog used as a chew toy about eight years ago, and the Display screen on our microwave hasn't worked for a couple of years. All that second-hand furniture, while comfy, doesn't even remotely match, and some of it still has the marks from a toddler's artistic experimentation with an ink pen. (That toddler probably has his learner's permit by now.)

Anyway, If you are ready to start saving the world and your wallet by not buying things, I have the perfect thing to not-buy first. The Cork Pops Wine Bottle Opener! Why use a simple Corkscrew, when you can use a High-Tech, State-of-the-Art, Pneumatic Cork-removal Device? Never mind that you have to buy disposable replacement CO2 canisters for it to continue working into the future!

Honestly, Who dreamed this up? I saw one of these gizmos at the Sharp Shopper (though not the brand-name version, of course), and was immediately taken by how redundant and un-useful it was. I mean, doesn't a corkscrew get the job done pretty well? Why would you want one that required "re-loading"? Turns out, it isn't quite as bad as I thought - One CO2 canister is good for 60-80 bottles (according to the website), but still... Not to mention the safety implications. When I imagine forcing pressurized gas into a glass container, the results might not be pretty.

If you would like to pare down the level of junk in your life, you can get a lot of ideas about how to cut the clutter in your home at Unclutterer.com

Can Ye Guess What Day This Be?

If You.. er, Ye.. said "International Talk Like a Pirate Day", then you are correct. ... Sorry, I meant "Then Right ye be! Aargh!"


OK, it isn't actually "TYPE" like a Pirate day, so enough with that. Anyway, this is the second year in a row that I have remembered it, (planned today's blogtivities a week in advance, even!) meaning that I have a better track record with observance of I.T.L.A.P.D. than with many of my relatives' birthdays.

The Holiday was invented by these guys, but was popularized by newspaper columnist Dave Barry. If I try to model my humor on this blog after anyone, it is Dave Barry. So in Honor of Dave, my syndicated comedy hero, The Daily Blog of the Day will Faithfully observe I.T.L.A.P.D. this and every year. Next year I plan to dress for the occasion, but this year, I don't have an Eyepatch.


So, Spread the word to all your friends... Or I'll Keelhaul the Lot of ye!

(P.S. - If you are viewing the sydicated feed in a reader, make sure you click through to the actual site to see TDBotD's Holiday makeover!)

Movie Tuesday - City Mice in the Country

This week I watched the movies Hot Fuzz and Elizabethtown. Both movies feature an urban character trapped unwillingly in a rural setting that they have to adapt to. The movies are also alike in that they are only sort of good.


Hot Fuzz - 3 stars

There are certain movies that you can't review with out the using the word "Follow-up", as in "Peter Jackson's much-anticipated Follow-up to his enormously successful "Lord of the Rings" trilogy". Well, Hot Fuzz is the "much anticipated follow-up" to Simon Pegg's first American hit, Shaun of the Dead, and it attempts to do for "Buddy-Cop" movies what Shaun did for zombie films. If it hadn't been on the heels of Shaun of the Dead, I probably wouldn't have felt so let down. Then again, If it hadn't been on the heels of Shaun of the Dead, I probably wouldn't have watched it in the first place. It was funny, but only in spurts.

Elizabethtown - 3 stars

The Much Anticipated Follow up to Cameron Crowe's Almost Famous, Elizabethtown is a weird romantic comedy. Terrific performances by just about everybody mark this very original, even oddball, piece of cinematic experimentation. The Beginning, Middle, and End of this movie feel almost like three episodes of a series, each with a different director. The beginning is weirdly humorous, the middle is brilliantly acted madness, and the end is a loooong boring mixtape; a slideshow that your friends make you sit through after returning from their Kansas Vacation. If they could have tidied up the end, they might have had a four, or even five star rating, which is saying a lot for a romantic comedy.

If you really enjoyed Almost Famous you will probably like this movie. They share a lot of themes, and a certain sense of style.

That's all the Frankster Has Time for today - but be sure to tune in tomorrow to see what good stuff I got cooked up for you.

Her name is Toot.

Her name is officially Toot, she weighs 4.9 pounds, and she is estimated at 7 years old. She has tested NEGATIVE for FIV/leukemia, but positive for tapeworms.

More kitty news.

Haven't been able to get to a PC lately, so I am doing my Blogging from my phone. It's tedious, but it gets the job done. We should be able to take the new kitty to the vet today to see just how bad off she is. She has had very limited interaction with PC and Marbles so far, mostly just because she hates their guts so far, but once we know whether she has any terminal and/or contagious diseases, then we will work on socialization. Thank you all for the wonderful comments; I will publish them all as soon as I get to a real computer. So far the name I like best is Tootoo , because in addition to the info on the last post, and the bad attitude mentioned above, I now know that she is also missing one tooth. Sounds like a hockey enforcer to me. Plus, the name is cute sounding, and we can adapt it to Toots or Tootsie if her attitude and/or image improves.

Kitty

We found this skinny little girl at the airport, and brought her home. She needs a name. She is as friendly as she is ugly, and her tail is only a ragged stump. I've seen some rough strays before, but I have never seen a cat this skinny before. Anyway, send me your name suggestions so I can stop calling her " "

Frank Goes Sharp Shopping - Part 2

My last post, about the Sharp Shopper Grocery Outlet was hijacked by a completely unrelated (but really cool) stop at a nearby Emu Farm.

Today we are back on topic, and getting ready to go in to the shop where I buy a lot of my groceries nowadays, the Sharp Shopper Grocery Outlet, in Cowan TN. When left off the last post, the typical Thursday morning Line/Mob/Crowd of Angry Villagers had already formed.

Here is the first thing you need to know about the Sharp Shopper. They have some Rules. These Rules are on Signs, so they don't have to go telling you the rules. The Signs are in Black lettering on a yellow background, but then again, so is everything at the Sharp Shopper. Here is the welcoming view one gets while waiting for the doors to open. (to see the large, legible, picture of the signs on the door, just click on the picture. Be sure to note that the sign advertising baby food makes a selling point of the "Good Expiration Date".)



The Doors open, and I get past the bouncer. Just Kidding! The employee who opens the door is actually a very friendly young lady who remembers my face. I was in the store several times while I was recuperating from my broken elbow, and when she sees me this morning, she asks me the same question she has asked me the last half-dozen times she's seen me: "How's your arm?"

I tell her that I'm all healed up, and enter the store. The Rules continue on the inside. (although, in fairness, they didn't make up those last Ten.)



We didn't come here for the rules, though... we came for the bargains! and here they are.




Yes, the first Aisle is the "Taco Shells, Oatmeal, Croutons, Cereal, Cookies, Tea, Candy Canes, Irons, and Jigsaw Puzzles" aisle. Honestly, why would you ever shop anywhere else?

Actually, the first section you pass is the "Health and Beauty Aids" section, frequently abbreviated "HBA", where you can find hair products, first aid items, cosmetics, and over in the bargain bin, condoms of varying expiration dates.

"Well, honey, the good news is... we can start junior's college fund with the money we saved on those condoms!"

In the corner of the store is the spot that everyone was lining up outside for. The products whose packaging has been completely destroyed in the shipping process end up here, in the bargain bin, in Ziploc bags. They are the least attractive products in a store full of unattractive products, but MAN are they cheap! Wherever possible, they clip off enough of the box to identify the product, and tape it to the bag. Where they can't even do that, they get out their big black Sharpie, and write out a label of their own!



Then just around the bend is the portion of the store I termed "Half Flea Market". I could tell you, but a picture is worth a thousand words, so.. Here ya' go!


This area of the store is the most fun, usually. Especially on a Thursday morning, you never know what might turn up here. I came in one morning to see two moms snap up the two gigantic, remote control Hummer H2's that were on these shelves. I've bought some really nice picture frames, and a clothes hamper from this section myself. However, most of what is here is complete, unadulterated junk, and the stuff that's not junk is hidden amongst so much that is junk that you have to have a treasure hunt mindset to even go near this place. This particular morning, though, was kind of disappointing. Maybe the rest of the throng snapped up all the good stuff while I was busy taking pictures of the expired laxatives. Oh well, there's always next week.

As fun as all the rest of the store is, there is one main reason I go here.... Cereal Bargains!

....

The Cereal Aisle is usually well stocked with great, brand-name breakfast cereal priced between 1 and 2 dollars a box. Pop-tarts (the real thing, from Kellogg's not the horrible store-brand attempts!) are usually at 75 cents per 8-count box. Thank goodness for crumpled cardboard! I can now afford the All-Pop-Tart diet preferred by 2 out of 3 nuclear-armageddon-fearing survivalists!

And I can have some Frosted Krusty-O's too, for $1.50!

...


It was right here, after the Cereal Aisle, that I had my Michael Moore moment. The Manager came to inform me that the employees had noticed that I was walking around taking pictures, and to ask me if I had, indeed, been taking photos around the store. I informed her enthusiastically that, yes, I had! When she asked what my purpose for taking said photos was, I told her that I had some friends who didn't live around here, with whom I wanted to share this one-of-a-kind shopping experience. Not in those exact words, but pretty close. I told her I was sorry if I had alarmed her staff, but not to worry, I wasn't spying for the competition. Her response was a quick, and a tad defensive, "We don't have any competition!" She then gave me a bit more information than I wanted about the store's ownership, and left me to go about my business.

I left the store with three bags of groceries, which cost me a whopping 11 dollars and change.
which qualified me for this special bargain on the way out.

Riddle: What's Half Grocery Store, Half Flea Market, and Half Treasure Hunt?

Answer: The 150% nifty Sharp Shopper grocery store in Cowan TN. It's one of the most unique shops I've ever seen, and I'm taking you with me through the magic of my newly accessorized, video-capable, camera phone.

But enough from me, I'll let you hear about it from... Me!
( audio's a bit quiet, make sure you have your speakers turned up.)

So with that spiffy Intro out of the way, let's head to Cowan TN, a case-study in charming little small-town. Situated right on highway 41A, Cowan was a Railway Depot back when coal mining was the Cumberland Plateau's biggest industry. Today Cowan is home to a Railroad Museum, and, of course...

After passing through downtown Cowan, but before reaching the store, I passed a place I have passed dozens, if not hundreds of times, but I thought, since I am sharing "The Local Color" with you readers, I should stop and snap a few pictures. And, what the hey, some video, too.

For the record, the plural of Emu is "emus" - remember that next time you are playing Scrabble.

A few miles further, and I was there.

The Sharp Shopper, home of "Bushels of Bargins"!

Here, again, I'll let Me do the talking.

So, what were we all waiting for? This post is already too huge to tell you, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow's installment of The Daily Blog of the Day!

"Corection": Jeremy is not "Crank Calling" me!

Okay, I now officially receive communications through Google searches. After my last post about search engine wrong numbers (and Crank Calls!), I received this search:

"frank gibson thinks jeremy is doing this but he's wrong blog"

So it would appear I was in error in my last post, and also here. But if it's not Jeremy, then who could it be? The IP address is a valid San Diego address, so it is probably someone fairly close to my brother in Southern California. Maybe from the Valley, or Valencia. Whoever it may be, I certainly value their readership, and I will try valiantly to figure it out. Man, I am stressing over this, maybe I need a valium.

Whoever she is, she didn't leave her name, so I will probably never figure it out. I really did think it was my brother, Jeremy. For those of you who don't know my brother, I have included a picture of him. He's the guy on the left.


And in case everyone missed it again... yes, I know I misspelled correction. Missed it, didn't ya?

Search Engine Wrong Numbers (and Crank Calls, Too!)

It has been a while since our last installment of Search Engine Wrong Numbers, So I have built up quite a number of items worthy of mention.

The first of which is that my brother decided at some point to intentionally search for this site using search terms that would be sure to attract my attention. The most obvious of these searches was a Google search for:

"frank gibson will be blogging about this on his daily blog of the day"

It's a bit wordy, but it did pull up my page! There were several other searches for:

1. "frank gibson"
2. "frank gibson blogger"
3. "frank gibson daily blog"

These may have also been Jeremy's doing, but it has not been worth my time to check them all.

(NOTE: If you readers (all twelve of you) each do a search for "Frank Gibson", and search through the listing for one of MY pages, ignoring the other results, it will increase my ranking among the Frank Gibsons of the world. (As of this posting, I show up on page 23 of the results). There is a wardrobe consultant, a painter, a photographer, a drummer, a webcartoonist, and several others with my name who are more famous than me, AND there is also a man from Nashville, TN, who is president of the Tennessee Coalition for Open Government, who comes up before me.)

I got a search from the Saudi Arabian National Internet Service looking for

"gramar corection"

Ha! I laughed! Silly Saudi, of course you need to be looking for grammar correction if you can't spell the word "Grammar" OR "Correction"! A week or so later, an American computer also looked for

"grammar corection"

then a couple of days later,

"grammer corection"

Man, I thought, Everybody who is looking for a grammar corection site can't spell! 2 out of 3 of them misspelled "grammar" and they All misspelled the word "Correction"!

...The same way.

...and when they misspelled it they got my site, which means....

I must have misspelled it on my site.

Sure enough, a search within my site for the word "corection" came up with my July Fourth post entitled: Reader Response - Mr. Grammar Corection Nazi

Well, now I feel a little foolish. In a post ABOUT being a stickler for detail about the English language, I misspelled the word "correction" in the title, and it stayed that way for months! I feel like I just got back home from a party to find out that I had food stuck in my mustache the whole time. I wondered why everyone had been furiously rubbing at their upper lips!

Some other noteworthy search terms were...

• "girlfight" (I'm guessing this guy left disappointed when he found out it was actually just a popularity contest between Betty Boop and Smurfette!)
• "taxi driver soundtrack" if he actually liked this soundtrack, he probably wasn't looking for my take on the movie Taxi Driver
• "move so fast you can't be seen" I didn't actually use these words in my post on the age old question of flight versus invisibility but when my friend Chesman commented, he chose this, the overlooked third option. Looks like he has some company.
• "old nashville, tn prison where the movie green mile was filmed" I actually only mentioned the church where a scene from The Green Mile was filmed, in my post about my favorite movies of all time, so if this searcher wanted to know about the prison, he was barking up the wrong website.
• "jeremy chesman" When I first got my statcounter traffic tracker account, I named names of people I had been able to deduce were visiting my site. Unfortunately for this searcher, "Jeremy" is my brother's first name, and "Chesman" is a totally different guy's last name. Looking for Jeremy Chesman? Sorry, Wrong Number!
• "kind of energy" this searcher from Brazil probably wanted actual information about alternative energy, not humorous comments about NPR and classic Sci-Fi novels. Sorry, there are plenty of alternative energy sites out there, this just ain't one. Wrong Number, Pal!

And I have saved the very best one for last. I don't know what in the world this guy was looking for, but if this search didn't lead you to my site, I would be very upset indeed. A guy from England wanted to know...

"what are the bad points of a bottle of sprite"

well, I hope he found out.


Good day, readers, and Happy Rosh Hashana/Jewish New Year!

Sewanee Fog

The Fog has returned! Autumn must be here!

Superhero Movie News! - Iron Man

If you know anything about me, then you already know... I love me some Superheroes. I collected Marvel Comics as a little kid. (I also collected baseball cards and coins. But not stamps; Stamp collecting's only for nerds!) I collected them a bit more seriously as a teenager, and one question I always asked myself was, "Why don't they make a decent movie out of --insert comic here--? Well, I don't know why they didn't then, but they have been making up for lost time in the 21st century. Ever since Tobey Maguire had his Spider-Mask peeled halfway back to play upside-down tonsil-hockey with Kirsten Dunst, Superhero movies have been marketable to the masses, not just the masses of Nerddom.

I have already shared my excitement with you about the Batman Begins sequel, The Dark Knight, and now I finally get a peek at what the upcoming Iron Man movie directed by Jon Favreau, and starring Robert Downey Jr. in the title role. With Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeff Bridges co-starring (along with alleged cameos by Samuel L. Jackson and Hilary Swank), it looks like they have got another one right.

The first Fantastic Four was an immature Super-sitcom, interspersed with meaningless stunt-scenes. (I am waiting for FF2 on DVD) Ghost Rider was an equally immature Eye-Candy Extravaganza. HULK had the most potential to be great, but unfortunately Ang Lee wrote a new, unnecessary, and overly complex take on the physical and psychological origins of the character, and made Bruce Banner's dad into the lamest villain ever, bringing the movie to a conclusion with the most artsy-fartsy fight scene ever put on film. I was never a fan of The Punisher or Elektra comics (I just barely knew who the character of Elektra was), and the Daredevil Movie was just atrocious.

Of course I saw them all, anyway. Comic Fans could appreciate these movies on some level, simply because they brought characters that we already loved to life for us in a new way, but until now Marvel had really only scored with the X-Men and Spider-Man trilogies. Well, they figured out what the audiences wanted. Superhero movies that did really well all had the word "Man" in them! (or its plural, although I suppose the mutants should be Xpeople, or X-Persons)
Well, Another "Man" movie is on the way!

Of course, outside of the titles, the successful movies have been the ones that centered on their superhuman characters' all-too-human problems. Tony Stark is going to be the next Peter Parker, I hope.

Anyway, the reason for all the Iron Man hoopla is the new Iron Man Movie Teaser that was just released yesterday. I have been hoping for a while that they would get this one right, and it looks like they just might have.

Warning: You will have a potentially annoying song stuck in your head after watching. You can't say I didn't warn you!

Movie Tuesday - We Play the Race Card

This week I watched some of the best cinema I have seen. The two movies that I'll look at in this post both take a look at the sometimes-controversial, and always complex subject of race and prejudice in America. Specifically, in Los Angeles.


American History X - 6 stars

This is an amazingly powerful film, featuring some incredible actors in an incredible story. Almost ten years after it was made, it (unfortunately) sounds like it could be today. Especially the tirade about "Border-Jumpers" in the middle of the film. Edward Norton's character of Derek Vinyard is the central figure through most of the movie, but it is the fragile character of his little brother Danny, played expertly by Eddie Furlong, that draws you into the story. His fate is not quite yet chosen; he has started down a dangerous path, but might still be helped.


Whereas Danny is a follower, who does what he's told, (by his principal, by his brother, by his "Mentor", Cameron, or by his friends) Older brother, Derek, is a leader. A leader who is as intelligent as he is troubled. We see Derek get some wisdom to go with his intelligence, when a prison counselor (who happens to be a black man, and Danny's high school principal) asks him this poignant question:

"Has anything you've done made your life better?"

It's a question that, in the right circumstance, can focus introspective brooding where it can actually help.

The past still rears it's ugly head, and past mistakes continue to have repercussions long after repentance. Derek sports one heck of a tattoo in this movie that will always be there to remind him of what he was, and what he did.(Actually he has several tattoos, but one stands out from the pack in a major way.)

If you haven't seen it, See it. But be warned, it does contain a few short sequences of truly horrific violence.


Crash - 6 stars

This Triple-Oscar-Winning film is a cinematic testament to my personal Creed and Motto:

"Everything Is Complicated"

This movie takes an even more nuanced, and much less gritty, look at race relations. As a believer that most of life occurs in shades of gray, I found this movie to resonate with me quite a bit. Rather than do the regular review, I thought I would give a list of things I learned while watching Crash.

• Never, ever get a tattoo on your neck. Ever. It gives people the wrong impression.
• Dealing with an HMO sucks bad enough without antagonizing your customer service worker.
• If you are a Persian shop owner operating in the United States, LEARN ENGLISH and CALM DOWN!
• Drive Carefully
• Dashboard religious figurines do not confer any benefit to the user.
• Guns don't kill people; Bullets kill people.
• Racism occasionally leads to correct predictions, this still doesn't make it right.
• Being a cop is dangerous on a lot of levels.
• Driving a Brand-New Luxury SUV is just asking for trouble. Half of the problems in this movie would have never occurred if these people would have just bought themselves a nice, reliable Toyota Celica. A really nice car goeth before a fall, it would seem.
• 5-year-old kids are really gullible.
• Christmastime is a good time to not be in Southern California.
• If you can't make friends, hire a maid.
• And Finally: If you were a jerk yesterday, today you can be a hero; if you were a hero yesterday, today you can still be a jerk. It's up to you.

So there you go. If you haven't seen it, go see it. Then come back and read this list again.

That's all for today, Blog Fans! Thanks for reading, And we'll See You Again Tomorrow!

Mobile alert: Woo-hoo! I just

Mobile alert: Woo-hoo! I just completed the New York Times Sunday Crossword puzzle in only 2 hours! I am such a genius it's not even funny!

Frank Calls The Cops: Part 2 of 2

This is part two of a two part post. To fully appreciate it, make sure you have read Frank Calls the Cops: Part 1 before continuing

So the next night I'm back at work. Minding my own business... well, technically, minding someone else's business, but anyway....

I got a visit around midnight from two guys on a mission to get some more beer. I know they wanted beer, because they were only two steps inside the building before they asked "Is it too late to buy beer?" You see, my town's beer laws prohibit the sale of alcohol between 1:00 and 6:00 A.M. Most of the local drinkers know this. Enlightening people who don't know this is one of the more exasperating parts of my job. That, and dealing with people who don't make it in time, who want me to break the law for them.

Anyway their question indicated that they were after beer. I could tell that they were after MORE beer from a few telltale signs that they had already had a few. And a few more. And then a few more. One of the two guys, a tiny, wiry, dirty , skinny dude, who we'll call "Mutt", was having trouble walking. I watched him stop halfway down one of the aisles, extract his wallet from his back pocket, and then spend three or four minutes trying to replace it. He nearly stuck it down the waistband of his pants a couple of times. When he finally got it back in the pocket, he continued toward the beer coolers with an unsteady stride.

I knew his friend, who we'll call "Jeff", from sight as one of the town's drunks, and a frequent DUI offender. I had seen him on more than one previous occasion hop behind the wheel of his Buick Titanica while inebriated. I also knew of his reputation as a stubborn, slightly mean drunk. He was the one who had asked if they were too late to buy beer. He made a bee-line for the Men's room, and was in there while Mutt was trying not to put his wallet down the back of his Jockey shorts. I didn't hesitate to use this opportunity to, once again, dial the police dispatcher. I told her that I had a pair of drunks who were getting ready to get back in their car and drive away.

I was informed someone would be on the way, and ended the call. A moment later the phone rang again, and the dispatcher informed me that Officer Doug was on his way, but still at some distance, and I was told to make sure I got the car's description, and to note what direction they headed in case Doug didn't make it in time. Now the car was in a blind spot in my parking lot. I could see the tail end of it, and was fairly sure that it was Jeff's Big Blue Buick, but I had to come out from around the counter to be sure. When I did, I saw the car clearly, and I also saw the woman in the driver's seat.

The Sober Woman in the Driver's Seat. The Designated Driver. Boy did I have egg on my face! Now the cops were on their way, at my bidding, to hassle some people who were actually being responsible for once. Or Were They? I didn't know that the driver was sober, she might have been only the least drunk of the three of them.

I anxiously waited for Officer Doug. Jeff, who was moving a lot faster than his friend, had finished whatever it was he had been doing in the bathroom (probably peeing on my floor), and gone back out to the car. For the moment, I was alone in the store with Mutt, who had made it back from the coolers with a single 24-oz can of Icehouse Beer. Now, I had set up for myself an uncomfortable situation by doing two things.

1. I had already told these guys that they were not too late to buy beer. Now, while that doesn't necessarily mean that some other condition, like the consumer's intoxication, won't interfere with their ability to buy beer, it sounds like the go-ahead. In these guy's eyes, I had already told them that their beer purchase was approved.
2. I had told the police dispatcher, in a recorded call, that the guys in my store were drunk.
   

Now, according to store policy, we are not allowed to sell beer to already intoxicated people. This sets up a crappy situation in itself, because the drunker somebody is, the more likely they will beat you up/stab you/shoot you for denying them their beer. I don't like to push drunk people too hard, so I occasionally "Don't Notice" that a person is drunk, and try and make my transaction go as smoothly as possible. I don't have any "bouncers" where I work, and I don't get paid enough to be one. However, if Officer Doug pulls them over down the road, or in the worst case, if they killed somebody, and they have a drink in the car that I sold them in the full knowledge they were drunk, I could be in a lot of trouble. However, if I didn't sell these guys beer when I had already given them hope, I could be in for a rough time too! Good thing I had the cops on the way, huh?

So, I begin telling Mutt, whose speech is even more affected than his motor skills, that I don't think he really needs any more beer, and that I am sorry, but I am really not allowed to sell him beer if he has already had several. He starts mumbling something at me about "only getting one" and "working 12 hours" while Officer Doug rolls in, lights already flashing. Mutt continues slurring at me, quietly, calmly, and completely unintelligibly, until he finally concedes. I take the beer away, and he turns around to see Officer Doug walking in, all business. He starts mumbling at Doug now, the same thing "...workin' 12 hours...come after.... gonna.. get Icehouse... long day... just gonna'.... binna wanna..", Et Cetera.

"OK," says Doug, "You been drinking already? You had a few?"

"6."

"You had 6? Okay, can you do a few test for me? I want you to turn around, and bend at the waist. " Doug is putting on latex-free rubber gloves as he says this. "Okay, now can you touch your arm together behind your back?" Out come the cuffs. Mutt has been mumbling the whole time, and as the cuffs went on him, Doug says "Public Intoxication, brother! you can't be running around drunk like that."

Then begins the overly long process of divesting Mutt of his stuff. The first thing Officer Doug extracts is a big Stanley utility knife; the kind that building contractors use, with the large cast-aluminum handle housing a three-inch long razor blade. Other than that, his pockets were stuffed with odd-but harmless stuff. A scratch-off lottery ticket, about 4 dollars in coins, a few other odds and ends, and oddest of all, his pocket was full of little green leaves. If you thought "Pot", then you are not alone, because that was the first thing that went through my mind, too. But no, these leaves were from an ordinary privet hedge. For some reason, this guy had a branch from a live hedge shoved in his pocket, and the small, oval leaves had all come off, making a mess as Doug tried to evict them from this guy's pocket.

While he is lightening Mutt's load, he calls for backup. Apparently Jeff was not very cooperative, and was being , in Doug's words, "A little belligerent". Doug waits inside with Me and Mutt while awaiting the car from Sewanee. When backup rolls in, not only does Sewanee's car arrive, but a sheriff's car from the next county over, and a Tennessee Highway Patrol car, too! After a few more minutes, an undercover sedan rolls up, and adds its blue lights to the strobe-fest happening outside my window. 5 cop cars are now set up outside the store, making me officially the safest man in three counties.

Unfortunately, all of the hooplah was to respond to charges of Public Intoxication. The driver was, as I had suspected, sober. Had I only seen the woman behind the wheel, I never would have made the call to the cops in the first place. I didn't mean to inflict all this hassle on some guys whose only crime had been to get wasted on a Tuesday night. "Jeff" had a history of Drunk Driving, and I have no tolerance for that. He is also a really mean drunk, apparently mean enough that a lone cop with a beltful of weaponry felt like he needed some help apprehending him. All that said, though, the night would have been a lot better for everyone concerned if I hadn't made that call. As I watched the cops roll away with their two new charges I felt really bad. I will probably think twice before I call the cops next time.

Frank Calls The Cops: Part 1 of 2

I called the cops twice last week. Two nights in a row.

Late at night on Labor Day, or I suppose, technically early the morning after Labor Day, I had a guy come in and ask if we take checks. We do, but not without a driver's license and an approval from our check-checking machine. We only take checks for the amount of purchase, and only within other guidelines too. So I gave him a conditional "yes".

He was one of the several people in 3 cars who were all on their way back to Illinois from (I later found out) a "Gay Pride" event of some sort, probably in Atlanta. The men were all African-American, and exhibited varying levels of Flamboyance, from some guys who may have been straight, to one full-out transvestite, in a Christian Dior head scarf and 3-inch long glittery orange fingernails.

I know a little bit about how interstate scams work, I have seen them before. While a single, large check would have been denied for being over our maximum amount, four separate guys each writing a 50 dollar check would raise no flags in our system. The first guy, the one who had asked if we accepted checks, wanted to write one for fifty dollars worth of gas. At this point, I didn't realize that five of the guys with him wanted to write checks too, and I wasn't overly suspicious. I ran his check through the machine, collected the pertinent information from his Illinois Driver's License, and set the gas pump for fifty dollars.

Then comes the next guy who wants to write a check for fifty dollars. BBRRRIIINNNGG, went the alarm bells. Ooookaaay, let's see if it goes through my machine. OK, it went through, well let's see your ID. Now the guy's ID had some damage. Some rather intentional looking damage, right over the ID number. Someone had scraped at the ID number, partially obscuring it. As the guy started to tell me what his ID number was, as if I would take his word on it, I realized that the attempt at removing the number had been unsuccessful; I could still make it out, just barely. I pointed out to him that he should get a new ID with a more legible number, and he apologized, blaming the defacement on his boyfriend. I let that comment slide right on past me, and moved on to the next customer, who already had out his checkbook.

Now the alarm bells were clanging like crazy, and I started looking at the checks with an eagle eye. I looked back at the last check at some point, and realized (AFTER accepting it) that it had been altered, too. The routing number had three digits scratched off, leaving little, barely perceptible, white marks in the almost-white face of the check. I noticed this as I ran the third check through the scanner, which came back with a "Decline Check" message. I guess they had been running their checks in order of most likely to be accepted, just to see how far they could get. Well, I handed back the declined check, explained that the machine didn't tell me why it declined, and sat back to see what was next.

Then in came the transvestite with... a checkbook. He wanted to pay for the previously attempted purchase with a check of his own. Even though the alarm bells in my head were now rattling my teeth, I accepted this guy's check (from an online Brokerage Account), ran it through the machine, which accepted it, and asked for his ID. This is where things got interesting. His ID, (from Illinois, like all the others) had THE SAME DAMAGE over the license number as the second guy's had. This was no mere accident, this was systematic alteration of identification, for the likely purpose of committing check fraud. I looked up at him, and said something about this problem, and he quickly murmured an apology and switched ID's!! He went from one with a male picture, to one with a picture of the blond, made-up female face he was currently sporting.

Now, it all sounds cut-and-dried when I apply my 20/20 hindsight, but at the time there were about 14 of these guys in various stages of buying gas, browsing the aisles, checking out, coming back in from the gas pumps for their change, Etc., AND there were a few other customers unrelated to these guys, who I also had to deal with. With 20 customers and only one of me, I didn't have much time at all to concentrate, but I did have a moment when all of the check-fraud crew were outside, when I was able to call the local Police. I had the dispatcher on the line before I realized that I didn't know exactly what I was accusing them of. All of their checks were within company guidelines, and they had paid for everything they got. The best I could get at describing the situation was "If they don't have any kind of outstanding warrants it would surprise me!"

Well, Officer Doug showed up in the blink of an eye, and rolled in to ask who it was. Well, I wasn't really sure it WAS anybody, if you put it like that, plus one of the guys had come back in and was standing right in front of me, and I was so unsure of myself, I just wanted to melt. While I waited for my line of customers to clear out so I could talk to Officer Doug, Car #1 and Car#2 left, leaving the third car behind. I VERY quickly mentioned to Doug that they were using altered ID's, and he jumped back out the door to stop Car #3 before they got away too. Several minutes later, he came back in to say that the ID he was given checked out, and he didn't have enough to hold anyone. He also chastised me just a little for not telling him earlier, so he could have gotten Cars 1 and 2. So, No one got arrested that night. but the next night, someone did.

More about that tomorrow in Frank Calls the Cops: Part 2.

The Sprite Incident - Part 3 of 3: The Incident.

This is part 3 of "The Sprite Incident", a 3-part story based on actual events. To better appreciate this post, please make sure you have read Part 1: Opryland and Part Two: The Day Before before continuing.

The Sprite Incident: Chapter Three

Family Clothing Store, October 19, 2002:
The Day of "The Incident"
So, the next day, lunchtime came around. Tomorrow was my 1st wedding anniversary, and I wanted to see if I could get my hands on some "Phantom" Tickets. Before calling the box office though, I needed to call the bank, to see if I would have to settle for good tickets, or if I had the funds available for Great tickets. While I entered my account number on the phone keypad, Visions of Becca and myself arrayed in our finery, sitting right down at orchestra level, danced in my head. I wondered if I could get a monocle and a top hat on short notice. About this time the automatic bank phone computer lady came through in her halting, computer-assembled voice:

"Your... available...balance is... one..hundred... thirty.nine...dollars and... fifty.seven...cents... ...overdrawn."

WHAAAT! "overdrawn?" oh, this sucked! Not only did I not have enough money for tickets, I didn't have ANY money at ALL! Right then and there, my day began its descent into badness.

I returned to the stockroom and tried to continue working while we waited for our pizza to arrive. This really stunk. I mean really really, really stunk. My anniversary was tomorrow, what could I do to celebrate it? I couldn't take her out on the town, so maybe we could just go see a mov.. no, that takes money. Okay, then, just rent something on vide.... no, no money. OK, I may just cook her something nice and have a candlelit din... no, groceries cost money, and we're broke!

The pizza arrived, and I tried to put these thoughts out of my head as we Stockroom Garbage Heroes all clocked out to dine... Pizza was on the house, but not drinks. As I took the first couple of bites of hot, doughy pizza goodness, I realized how much I needed a Coke to wash it down. Drinks in the vending machine cost a dollar. I had started the day out with three dollars in my pocket, and I had already spent one of those three before finding out that they were all the money I had in the world. There was really no way I could justify spending a dollar, which was, at this point, half of my entire life's savings, on a Coke. But, justify it I did. It really would hit the spot, I decided. I really would feel better, I told myself. Besides, I'm getting food for free, so I am really only spending the money that I'm SAVING on pizza! That last one did it, so I walked around the corner to go spend 50% of my Liquid Financial Assets on a 20-ounce soda.

*****

Now a few notes about the store's layout are necessary at this point. The store had been the recipient of a multi-million dollar remodel that same year, which had only just been completed. The break room in which my colleagues were eating pizza was the NEW break room, lushly appointed with countertops, drawers, cabinets, and even a brand new two-compartment sink. All of this occupied the space formerly taken up by the customer service window, which had been moved to the front of the store. The area that had previously been the OLD Break Room was now an extension of the stock room called the Staging Area. Not truly a room, the Staging area was just a very wide hallway, with a very high ceiling, connecting the stockroom with the various merchandising areas of the store. Clothing and other merchandise that had been opened and processed by the stockroom was pushed out into this Staging Area to await being displayed on the shelves and racks out on the Sales Floor. The Vending Machines were located in this area. I don't know why, but when they tore down the old break room, they left the Vending Machines there, while moving the refrigerator, lockers, tables, television, and everything else into the new room.

So, here I stood in the Staging Area, alone, dollar in hand, in front of the Coke Machine, feeling guilty about the utterly foolish choice I was making, but also really wanting a Coke. Here is the Lineup of Buttons.

1. Coca Cola
2. Coca Cola
3. Coca Cola
4. Diet Coke
5. Mountain Dew
6. Mountain Dew Code Red
7. Dr. Pepper
8. Sprite

I inserted my next-to-last dollar into the machine, and pressed button number one. A click, buzz, and thump later I extracted my long awaited....

Yeah. You guessed it.
Sprite.

I groaned. I shook my fist at the heavens. I stared at the drink in my hand. I just wanted a drink to wash down the delicious victory pizza that awaited me in the next room! Why did everything have to suddenly be so complicated?

Now of course, the stakes had been raised. Now, if I still wanted a Coke, I would have to spend my Very Last Dollar to get it. This choice was of course even stupider and more unjustifiable than the last. But Dangit, now I was Committed!

I inserted my Very. Last. Dollar. I knew better than to press the top button again. As a matter of fact, I figured I'd better skip down to button number three. I had just spent all the money I would have until I could crawl up out of debt, but I would have a Coke in a few seconds, and Then I could go eat pizza and drink the pain away. I pressed the button.

If you guessed "The Machine Gave Frank Another Sprite", then move to the head of the class!

Now The Reason I went through the gigantic introduction to this moment is so that you might share in my mind-state, regarding the action I then took. I was now, literally and completely penniless, my Anniversary was the next day, and the one little bit of carbonated-beverage joy I had coming to me had been stolen by this stupid vending machine, and its stupid SPRITE! I made at this point a grunt of extreme displeasure, and what I would have described as a "flippant toss" of the Sprite bottle off to my left. Picture what happens when someone discards a banana peel in a cartoon. A casual toss of the peel off to one side, where it arcs to the ground to molest the next person to walk across it. This, I Swear, is the action I thought I made.

Apparently my Adrenal Glands had other Ideas, though. I must have been in "HULK MAD, HULK SMASH!" mode, because the bottle flew threw the air, end over end, to strike the (Newly Installed, Expensive) Drywall at a point about 17 feet high. The flips the bottle had turned along its flight path had (of course) oriented it so that it struck the wall neck first, punching a hole in the drywall, into which it stuck, like an arrow.

Sounds bad, doesn't it? But wait.... there's more!

The other thing the flips did was shake the bottle's carbonated contents until they applied incredible pressure to the walls of their green plastic prison. The sudden stop at the end of their flight gave the bottle that final nudge over the breaking point, tearing a crack along the bottom of the container,which was the end facing out into the room, transforming the innocent bottle of soda into a 17 foot high showerhead, dousing half of the room in sickly-sweet, corn-syrupy, carbonated, citrus-flavored goo.

Also, did I mention that store merchandise was stacked in large quantities in the Staging Area? Yeah, I thought I did. underneath the Sprite-sprinkler sat several racks of ladies' wool Blazers and sweaters. 500 dollars worth, according to my termination papers.

There is a little bit more to this story. There was the particularly snarky co-worker who walked in as I was trying to mitigate the damage/dispose of the evidence and who would not shut up and leave me alone until I turned on him in an adrenal rage and threatened him bodily harm, there were the comforting, supporting gestures made by my friends in the stockroom, who assured me that it was only an accident, and surely the boss would see that, and there was the rather unfortunate timing of the whole thing happening while the Regional Loss Prevention Director was visiting the store.

I was Fired within Two hours.

I took a box of Pizza with me.

Mullet Removal

This is the marquee outside of the beauty shop where I live.

Movie Tuesday - Dogs and Elephants

Good Day, BlogFans!

My Netflix queue has taken a decidedly manly turn lately, with gangster movies, kung-fu gangster movies, monster movies, and more gangster movies. In this post I will be reviewing the Quentin Tarantino "classic", Reservoir Dogs, and the definitely non-classic The Protector, starring phenomenal stuntman Tony Jaa.

Reservoir Dogs - 4 stars

The most important thing I can tell you about this movie is that it is not about a reservoir, and it is not about dogs. There Is A dog in it, but no reservoir, as far as I can tell.

I don't think that is a good name for the movie. A Better title would have been A bunch of guys who are not dogs who screw up a jewelry store heist and then get really paranoid because they were set up by somebody but they don't know who and then everybody starts sticking guns in everybody else's face and all of this happens nowhere near a reservoir: Part One

Nah, forget the "Part One" bit; that makes it too wordy. Audiences wouldn't go for that.

Anyway, I disagree with Quentin Tarantino's general taste in film, or perhaps "tastelessness" in film, But this one really was pretty good. Really good actually. I love a movie with a lot of plot, with twists and turns, and this one serves them up one after another. The characters are developed cryptically and selectively, and, of course, there are a lot of great quotable lines, which seems to be one of Tarantino's strong points.

The thing that keeps this movie out of 5-star territory is the ending. Or rather the lack of one. Serious Film-Student types can rail at me about subtext and allegory, and my inability to appreciate the subtle nuance and blah, blah, blah, yadda-yadda, but to me, the movie's ending is jarring, and not in a good way. A good artistic film can have an ending that raises more questions than it answers, but this movie did something else. I'm still not quite sure what it did, but I didn't like it.

The thing that made it so frustrating is that the movie was so darn good, right up to the ending, and then it felt like they just ran out of film. or time.

The Protector - 2 stars

There are two things that keep this movie out of the trash heap of a 1-star rating. The Star, and the Stunts. OK, really, just the stunts, most of which are done by the star. The reason I ever picked this movie up to begin with was the amazing scene I saw on YouTube of the longest uncut fight scene in the world.

This scene is a fairly ho-hum action movie scene, until you realize that every one of the fifty million or so extras in this scene, spanning five floors of a building, had to have every prop, every position, every step right all the way through the nearly 5-minute scene. One missed mark and they would have to go all the way down the stairs, set up all the furniture, screens, railings and windows, put all the extras and stunt performers BACK in their places and start all over again.

There are several other scenes from the movie available on YouTube, and that, my friends, is the best place to watch them, because the movie that they are part of is one of the worst ever. This movie is a collection of action scenes with a thin layer of plot applied. The Stunts are dazzling, and all the more so if you know that they are done without the assistance of any wires, slings or any other augmentation. When Tony Jaa does a backflip, kicking out the streetlight 6 feet above his head from a standing start, he really just did that. Much of what Spider-Man can do in make-believe, Tony Jaa can do for real. It is easy to watch the various scenes on YouTube and appreciate that fact. It is hard to appreciate those stunts in the context of the incredibly terrible, contrived, confusing, and unintentionally funny movie, though.

Seriously, I was surprised, after watching this movie, to find that my face actually hurt from laughter. It is not supposed to be a comedy at all.

One of these days, Tony Jaa will work with an American director, and make a movie that is at least up to bad American Action Movie Standards. The Protector fell short of even that.