Gender: Male Status: Married
Age: 89 Sign: Aquarius
City: SEATTLE State: Washington Country: US
Signup Date:
02/11/06
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Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Railroad law.
Okay, there are a few things I'd like to discuss with you today (well, now there is only one thing, as I've managed to delete half of this blog and now refuse to rewrite it).
Hey, have any of you seen those low budget late night commercials for the offices of the lawyer who specializes in "railroad law"? He shows a really wonderful graphic of a vehicle being struck by a freight train, while explaining about how "railroad companies have lawyers fighting for them and so should you."
The question that comes to my mind here is this....how big can this guy's audience really be? Is there a huge demographic of people in the greater Seattle area who have been struck by freight trains and find themselves embroiled in bitter legal battles with inadequate representation? Perhaps I am just a little naive as to the frequency with which these sorts of accidents occur, but it just seems a little odd to me.
I was in Everett on Friday (don’t ask) and at some point found myself stuck at a red light in front of the Events Center (or whatever they call it these days). As I stared at the giant screen flashing the arena’s coming attractions (Avril! Garden shows! Hockey! Celtic Thunder!?), I noticed an ad for something called "When Emo grows up." By the pictures that accompanied the text I was able to figure out that it probably was meant to read as "When Elmo grows up," but it got me to thinking.... really, what does happen when emo grows up?
I feel like there is a good punchline here, but I just can’t seem to figure out what it would be. So, I’m leaving it up to you, friend, to tell me what you think the best case scenario for a program called "When Emo grows up" would entail.....okay? And.....type!
...has ever there been a worse song written than the following (scroll down, beyond the video and my discussion of the song’s finer points if you need a refresher on the official lyrics)?
’Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car’ by Billy Ocean
I don’t even really know where to begin with this one. Someone (Billy Ocean, presumably) actually sat down and thought that it would be a good idea to write this song. My favorite lyrics are as follows...
1) "I’ll be your non-stop lover" (okay, that is a pretty gross visual) which is followed by "get it while you can" (wait, does this then mean that he won’t actually be my non-stop lover, or simply that it is a limited time offer? ...so, if i accept the offer, he then becomes my non-stop lover? is there some kind of an out clause? does this seem like a bargain to anyone at all?).
2) "Get in the back seat, baby" (why? is this a taxi, or is he being metaphorical?).
3) "Lady driver, let me take your wheel, smooth operator" (lady driver? okay, fine....but ’let me take your wheel’...? i’m pretty sure that he is making a sexual metaphorical here, but i’m not even sure if i get what he means by that).
4) "Touch my bumper" (okay, i’m pretty sure that i understand that metaphor...but, yikes).
Lyrics:
"Hey! You! Get into my car! Who’s that lady? Coming down the road Who’s that lady?Who’s the woman Walking through my door What’s the score? I’ll be the sun Sine it on you Hey cinderella Step in your shoe I’ll be your non-stop lover Get it while you can Your non-stop miracle I’m your man
Get outta my dreams Get into my car Get outta my dreams Get in the back seat Baby get into my car Get outta my mind Get into my life Oh I said Hey! You! Get into my car
Lady driver Let me take the wheel Smooth operator Touch my bumper Hey let’s make a deal Make it real Like a road runner Coming after you Just like a hero Outta the blue I’ll be your non-stop lover Get it while you can Your non-stop miracle I’m your man"
...of junk mail subject lines and such
Current mood: curious
So listen, I'm sitting on hold with Puget Sound Energy as they attempt to figure out who's account they keep applying my checks to, since they aren't applying them to mine....and, after 20 minutes, I've had just about as much 'smooth jazz' renditions of 'Stevie Wonder's hits of the '80s' as I can handle. That being said, I think I should tell you about a junk mail I received a couple of days back. This message was sent from someone by the name of 'Bryce Paraskevas' and stood out from the others in the crowded junk mail in-box and their promises of cheap prescription drugs, software, and teen sex. No, Mr. Paraskevas was a bit more clever and had something diffferent in mind. He wrote the following in the subject line... "Blair knelt beside her and lifted it to examine her injuries." Wow. What does that mean? Who is she? How was she injured? Will she be okay? What is Blair lifting? Who is this Blair? Can Blair save her? It was too much, I simply had to know more. Sadly, when I opened the email, I was given no further information as to what happened.....only a curious message about impending changes in the market and a great investment opportunity. Too bad. Also, I decided to pass on the investment opportunity, so I guess it was a lose-lose for both me and Bryce Paraskevas.
Earlier this week I began a new (very early morning) French class, which is located in Thompson Hall at the UW. As class began and I was still quietly pondering the significance of all the signs posted throughout the building reasurring us that "Thompson Hall is safe for students and faculty" (hmm...I never considered the posibility that it might not be safe until the matter was brought up); when the teacher quickly instructed us to split into pairs and learn about what the other person did on their spring break. I nervously tried to tell my partner that I had, among other things, slept, played guitar and spent time with my wife. Later, it struck me odd that my partner referred to my wife as masculin when she reported my spring break activities back to the class...but I shrugged it off and quickly forgot about the whole thing. It was only this morning that it occurred to me that, in fact, what I had actually told the class was that I had spent a lot of time with 'my husband.' Zut Alors!
(with apologies to the handful of folks who may have already heard this one)
A couple of summers back, after a concert somewhere, we were loading equipment into the van and I was left alone waiting with/guarding the instruments, while the others ran to get the last few guitars and such. Sitting on the van's rear bumper, I suddenly noticed a large man, briskly walking through the otherwise empty parking lot, right towards me and carrying what I quickly recognized as.....an ax....of all things. Yes, a huge fireman type ax. Not sure whether to run or maybe dive into the van....I simply remained where I had been sitting. As he got closer to me, the guy barked "ten dollars." Not really sure what he meant, I responded with a nervous laugh. He paused for a moment and then extended the ax to me, by the handle and firmly repeated "ten dollars." It was only then that I realized he was trying to sell the ax to me. After I softly mumbled "ah...no thanks" he continued on his way and sauntered off into the night...ax in hand.
....that the French don't really have a number for seventy? They say sixty-eight, sixty-nine, sixty-ten, sixty-eleven, sixty-twelve and so on. It gets even crazier when they get to eighty. From there they have to say four-twenty, four-twenty-one, four-twenty-two, and so on. By the time they reach 99, they are saying four-twenty-nineteen. Isn't that silly? I don't know the history behind this, but I should probably look into it.
As a birthday present, my grandma once gave me one of those flashlights that plugs into your car lighter. It was the exact same one that my mom had given to my grandpa not one year earlier. Also, I was fourteen at the time and certainly didn't own a car in which to plug the flashlight into.
The same grandma once gave my brother the gift of an electric jewelry cleaner. Now, I've never known my brother to actually own a lot of jewelry and certainly none that required regular cleaning. I believe that she later explained to us that, if placed near his bed, the soft hum of the little engine might help him to sleep better. It should also be noted that I've never known my brother to suffer from sleeping problems.
...Red Robin is currently flying their flag at half-mast. I was aware that since a former President died all American flags would be flying at half-mast.....but, I was not aware that this custom also pertained to a flag adorned with a cartoon bird holding a tray of burgers on its wing. Well, maybe that isn't so amusing to anyone else....but it seemed funny to me as I stood at the bus stop the other day. Anyway, that is all I wanted to say. You may go back about your business now.
curious
pensive