BrewBlog

I Can't Understand You!

Disgust for the intercom is something that I'm pretty sure I inherited from my dad.  Sometime during my late twenties and early thirties I developed this hatred for just about any and all intercoms.  Why is that when I'm at Home Depot,  five minutes can't pass without the ridiculously loud and obnoxious tone blaring through dozens of 50,000 watt speakers, all of which are aimed at my inner ear.  My blood pressure immediately skyrockets.  An incredibly annoying voice then announces something, twice, over the same offensively loud speaker system.  Why twice?  The person(s) being paged couldn't possibly have not heard the damn announcement the first time!  And why all the unnecessary words in the announcement, Target?  Why can't they just say, "Bill, phone, line two".  No, it has to be, "Attention all Target team members.  Attention all Target team members.  Bill Shux, you have a phone call on line two.  Bill Shux, you have a phone call on line two.  Thank you."

And how about applying some basic intercom etiquette?  For example, proper distance between mouth and microphone make a big difference in how tolerable or intolerable these announcements are.  And please, speak clearly and enunciate words properly.  The noise is disturbing enough, but not being able to even understand the announcement is maddening.  Slamming the receiver down after the announcement sounds wonderful too.  "Blah blah blah...blah blah blah...SLAM!!!"  Simply hanging up before slamming the receiver down is all it takes and you only need one hand.  Wal-Mart is a big time offender of all these intercom atrocities.  Fortunately, I only go into a Wal-Mart once or twice a year. 

I don't regularly visit fast food restaurants anymore but what is the deal with the intercoms in the drive-thrus at these places?  Volume, feedback, static, all of it is wrong.  It's the twenty-first century and we can communicate clearly with people in outer space but we can't figure out how to effectively communicate with someone a few yards away on the other side of a wall?  It just doesn't make any sense.  It sounds just as bad on the other end too, believe me.  I used to request to work the drive-thru in my Burger King days and I just can't imagine doing that all day anymore.  My dad and I were commiserating about drive-thru woes and I just about peed myself laughing when he told me about the time he got so frustrated in a drive-thru that he finally shouted into the intercom, "I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU!"

Sandman

Link: Coming Soon! - Latest News.

During an interview this weekend promoting Elizabethtown, Kirsten Dunst confirmed rumors to Zap2it that Thomas Haden Church will play Sandman and Topher Grace is Venom in director Sam Raimi's Spider-Man 3, opening in theaters on May 4, 2007. "We have really great people though as the villains in this film, Thomas Haden Church and Topher Grace -- Venom and Sandman," said Dunst, who plays Mary Jane Watson in the Spidey films. "Maybe I wasn't supposed to say that," she added before reversing her claim. "It's the other way around. You're right," she conceded to a journalist.

I'm not a huge Spiderman fan or anything but I do enjoy the movies and had a bunch of comic books when I was kid.  Anyone that read the comic books back in the day likely had a favorite villain.  When these big comic movies come out (Fantastic Four, Spiderman, Batman, etc.) the first thing that comes to mind is who the villain is going to be.  For Spiderman, I was excited about Dr. Octopus because he was my favorite Spiderman villain.  Another villain I really liked as a kid was Sandman.  So, I'm looking forward to seeing what they do with Sandman.  We'll see next year.

Ten reasons why my cat is a bigger pain in the ass than yours

1. Craps in the hallway
2. Knows how to open doors to let himself in or out of any room in the house
3. Gets into my closet and gets hair all over my clothes.  I keep the closet door closed but it doesn't matter (see #2)
4. Rarely cuddles or likes to play
5. Tries to eat whatever we are cooking or eating, no matter what it is
6. Purposefully tries to trip us in the dark, while we are returning home in the evening
7. Can only properly digest a specific, expensive kind of cat food that must be purchased on the Internet
8. Failure to provide expensive Internet food will always result in the cat vomiting on the carpet
9. Has "cat terrors" at night that result in howling that is plenty loud enough to completely wake us up
10. Addicted to Flouxetine (generic for prozac).  This was a last resort to make kitty happy because his stress is why he poops on the floor (vet told us).  Drugs do help and he poops on the floor less.  However, I must make him swallow pills on a daily basis, which he loves because he gets treats afterword's.  Kitty has learned to cheek these expensive pills to prevent that nasty chalky taste while still cashing in on the kitty treats.  When parents aren't looking, kitty has developed skill to quickly launch pills out of his mouth and behind kitchen appliances, where they are found later.  Meanwhile, any slight  disturbance in or around the house upsets stressed out kitty and he poops on the floor despite mood altering drugs.  One example of a "disturbance" is a neighbor cat walking by outside.  One glimpse of that through a window and "poop"

My Relationship With Music

One of the many things that makes me feel old is my relationship with music.  Not in the sense that I listen to "old people" music, because that's definitely not the case.  But the many phases and life milestones that can be linked to my personal soundtrack of the time.  Everyone was must know what I mean by that.  Even more specifically though, thinking back to how my relationship began and where it is going. 

For me, I feel as though my relationship with music began before I was even legally a human being.  My mom was very pregnant with me when she went to a loud theater to see the film "Woodstock".  Growing up, I spent countless hours parked next to the stereo speakers in the family room, listening to my mom's records (Mostly Elvis, Credence and Santana).  As a youngster, I remember by first solo visit to the local record store (still my local record store) to by my very first cassette tape with my own money. 

Me (12 years old):  "I'm looking for the new tape by ZZ Top called 'Exterminator'."

Teenage girl behind the counter:  "Do you mean 'Eliminator'?"

After that first cassette tape, I was totally hooked.  Hundreds of purchases later, I had my music collection.  Then, a wonderful invention had made the mainstream, the compact disc.  My first CD was Seventh Son of a Seventh Son in 1987.  All the great feelings I got from getting and listening to cassette tapes was even better with CDs.  With mostly metal in my head, my CD collection took off.  CD shopping has been a favorite pastime since that first purchase.

Now the digital age is among us, changing everything media and so much more.  For me, the CD is still the way to go, even though the MP3 player has been a "mixed tape" dream.  After 18 years, my CD collection has gotten big.  I stopped counting at about 1,200.  My cassette tape collection is gone, never making through the last big move.  Anything I really wanted was on CD now anyway, and I had never sold a CD.  I kept them all.  Recently, through the desire and necessity to simplify my life, I've decided to shed a few (hundred) CDs from my prized collection. 

I've been in the processes of selling a bunch of my CDs for a few weeks now, parting with those I'm unlikely to listen to again.  No matter what, I've gotten my money's worth.  The thousands of hours of enjoyment are mine to keep forever.  Many of my CDs are going to that same local record store from where many came.  Others that are worth a few bucks more are up for sale at the Amazon Marketplace (easy process, by the way).  Until I looked, I didn't realize how many out-of-print CDs I had. 

So what's the point?  I don't know.  I started this post to plug the Amazon Marketplace but digressed into a personal remembrance of my relationship with music.  This milestone is significant to me because this all started as a project to make room for a future generation of little Brewers.  There was no real need to sell CDs to make room, but it seemed like time to part with some of them.  The designated music room in the house is being converted to a nursery.  My wife touches on this in a recent "Transitions" blog entry. 

This is just a fraction of the changes, I'm sure.  Now that I'm about midway through the CD reduction effort, I'm not really feeling any sense of loss.  This is no doubt a mature thing but also the realization that there is nothing actually lost in terms of my relationship with music.  More than anything, I look forward to many more memories.  I'm curious too, about if I'm going to say to my children, "What is that crap you're listening to...that scratch and scream!?"

Littering

Why do people litter?  I've been noticing a bigger problem with trash lately.  The roadsides are full of trash.  Just walking to the store the other day, I noticed how bad it is.  Fast food cups, plastic bags, wrappers, and so on and so on.  Trash cans have been made available just about everywhere you go.  I simply cannot understand the mentality of throwing garbage into the street or anywhere else, other than a garbage can.  So stupid.

My guess is that it's the selfish nature of much of our society.  Oh, someone else will pick it up.  NO THEY WON'T.  Maybe it's laziness.  It's just too hard to throw it away in a garbage can.  Maybe there is just not enough time.  There is not enough hours in the day to throw my trash away.  Ummm, maybe people enjoy garbage.  Well, my house is disaster, my car is a mess, I'm a slob, I think I'll make the world more suited for me.  How about just being a complete idiot.  Oh, you mean garbage goes into a garbage can?

Did I miss any?

Makes her want to throw up

After enjoying breakfast with my mom and my aunt in old town Roseville last weekend, Allison and I took a slightly different way home than usual.  Going a different way home was something we seemed to do when we had some time to kill on the weekends.  We like to drive around simply to check out areas we've never seen, something that isn't always easy for me since I've lived in this town for almost 30 years.  I guess it's more of a city than a town, but whatever.  This day, it felt more like a town.  Maybe that's because we were in "old Roseville", driving through neighborhoods that have been around for over half a century.  Roseville was a railroad town in the old days, the biggest railroad junction west of the Mississippi way back when.

While exploring, we came across a beautiful brick house we had noticed before.  It was on sale and was having an open house.  Curious about what it would look like on the inside as well as wondering what the price would be for a an old gem like this, we docked the MDX to get a closer look.  We were immediately greeted at the door by the "real estate lady".  She gave us a little tour and then left us to look around.  The inside of this house did not disappoint.  Hardwood floors, big windows, and lots of charm.  I don't usually use the word "charm", by the way.  A previous owner had obviously added some serious square footage by converting the original garage into a family room.  A separate garage was then built off a nearby street.  We loved it and talked through what we would do with it if we were going to buy it, which just seems like something everybody does when they look at a house that's for sale. 

After thanking the real estate lady for her time, we headed out the front door.  An old lady that looked to be the neighbor was wandering around out front between the two properties.  She greeted us, verified that she was neighbor and politely queried about the price of the house. 

"How much are they asking for the house?" she asked in an old persons voice.

"$450,000" we replied in our talking to an old person voice.

"Whoa...Four-hundred fifty...thousand.  Ahhh...are you sure?" she questions with an utterly shocked look on her face.

She moved closer to us to look at the price sheet we were holding.  She pointed at it, staring at it as though the numbers that appeared where somehow wrong.  She read the numbers again and again, out load, looking at us for confirmation, as though she had completely lost her mind.

"Four hundred and fifty THOUSAND...DOLLARS?"  "Oh Jesus Christ...Jessssuuuus Christ.", she repeated several times, doing the sign of the cross on her forehead and chest. 

This nice old lady (we never caught her name) talked with us for probably 20 minutes or so.  She told us numerous times how she had moved into her house in 1940 when she was 30 or so years old.  She bought the house for $4,500 or something very close to that, I can't remember, even though she told us 15 times.  She also mentioned that the house we were just looking at, now for sale for $450,000 was only a thousand or so more expensive than hers was when she bought it.  The value appreciated about 100 times!  If that trend remained, a house purchased now for $500,000 would be worth 50 million dollars in the year 2070.  Damn, that's crazy to think about.  She also mentioned that her husband at the time worked for Southern Pacific railroad for ten cents an hour.

"How much do you think I can get for my little old house here?" she asked, still stunned by the news we'd delivered.

"I'd say at least 375,000" I answered, now an expert in real estate.

"DOLLARS?" she gasped, still not getting the idea that stuff costs more now days.

"Uh, hu" I answered again

"Oh Jesus Christ.  Oh...Jesus.  What would I do with all that money.  I'm just waiting to go over the hill to the other side.  Are you sure?  $375,000?  Makes me want to throw up"

Something Good

My company had the opportunity to help with the Shelter From the Storm national telethon last week because of the large call-center capability we have.  Allison and I volunteered by taking calls on behalf of the Red Cross and the Salvation Army.  Our job was to collect donations from folks calling in to support the Katrina disaster relief effort.  Overall, the effort within our campus collected over $400,000 in donations from 4,600 callers.  Props go out to our company for helping.

Taking a little time to do something good really pays off.  Just a few hours of time, multiplied hundreds or thousands of times over, adds up big time.  Considering the magnitude of the problem, this one was a no brainer.  It's unfortunate that there are so many people in need, all the time, all over the world.  It must be frustrating for people that are constantly exposed to famine, disease and disaster conditions.  Many of us don't give a lot of thought to stuff like that on a regular basis until something of this magnitude happens.

28 stops!

For years I've driven across town to get to work.  The commute could be much better but it could also be much worse.  Lately though, our commute to work has gotten mean.  The growth in Roseville and surrounding cities is crazy.  According to a study published not too long ago, Roseville is among the top ten fastest growing cities IN THE COUNTRY!  What?  No wonder everywhere you look is dump trucks, bulldozers, roadwork, new buildings in various phases of completion and, of course, PEOPLE.  Where are they all coming from?  Like dirty bath water, the bay area is draining north.  That's part of it.  But that's not it.  Where are all the other humanoids coming from?  It's not just reproduction either, because I know there can't be thousands of new Roseville babies every year, can there?  I'm from the bay area originally and I'm not trying to bag on it, but I don't really want my little railroad town I fell in love with to get like it.

When my family moved to Roseville in the mid 70s, the population was under 10,000.  Now, 30 years later, the population is over 100,000.  That's some serious growth, and I've watched it happen.  Growth is inevitable, sure.  I do like how everything I need and everything I don't need is within the city limits.  We have hundreds of restaurants to choose from, which is great too.  No matter what, I will always love Roseville.  I grew up here and have formed a bond.  Maybe that sounds lame, I don't know.  But, where are all these people coming from?

So, to get this entry back on track, I'd like to share a little experiment we did yesterday.  Allison and I often carpool to work and on our way home yesterday, we counted the number of traffic signals and stop signs we had to pass to get home.  Actually she counted as I lost track because I was distracted by all the stupid drivers that drive as though it was there first time behind the wheel.  She counted, and I would ask what number we were on, practically every signal.  You already know the answer because it's the title of this entry.  28 stops.  Are you kidding me?  We each took a guess and just like our personalities, her guess was an optimistic 25 and mine, a pessimistic 38.  We noticed that 28 is about to be 29, because a new signal is going up a few miles from our house.  Before too long, we'll hit 30. 

We knew what we were getting into when we bought a house so far from work.  We really wanted to the house we picked out and were willing to take on the commute to get it.  Everybody warned us too. 

"Why do you want to move so far away from work?" 

"I wouldn't want to have that drive."

We love our house and are bummed that the drive to work has to be such a pain in the ass.  It may become too much some day, and we'll be forced to live closer to work.  But where does it end?  I like Folsom and would have no problem relocating eventually, to reduce our drive.  But is distance to work the only consideration?  Folsom is growing like crazy too.  Traffic is crazy and there are PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!  The only choices seem to be to deal with it or move away, far away.  When is this part of California going to be unbearable?  Hell, when is California in general going to be unbearable.  It would be easy to dismiss it as growth and convince ourselves to just deal with it.  That's fine for now, and maybe that is the answer for our lifetimes,but maybe it's not. 

Rat in a Maze

Over the years working in corporate America, I've gotten used to the office life and routines.  Going there five days a week, year after year, you don't really have a choice but to get used to it.  It's easy to complain about work for most people.  Actually, very few have no complaints whatsoever.  It's impossible to put thousands of people into a building at the same time everyday and not have some gripes.  People really weren't meant to spend their days indoors and in little cubicles.

While leaving work the other day, it once again occurred to me how ridiculous the process seems.  It's easy to overlook and it's also not all that big of a deal, which is why I'll keep it short.  We have these turnstiles that we have to go through to get in and out of our buildings at work.  They were installed for security purposes.  The turnstiles detect your badge, identify you as an employee and permits entry.  These turnstiles are like fancier versions of the kinds you see going in and out of the subway (pictured).  Walking the halls and stairwells, winding corners, and walking through the turnstiles single file makes you feel...trapped.  Not literally, of course, but it is a bit suffocating. 

Then, as you exit the fortress, the outside air rushes and hits you in the face.  Countless times while walking to the parking lot in a small group, you see everyone else begin to decompress from a day of work as well.  It's beautiful outside and the day is pretty much over.  Is that depressing?  I guess it is and written down, it seems a little overly dramatic, but nonetheless, it's all part of the deal.  We get used to it, but we should also not forget that life isn't about turnstiles.  It's easy to complain, like I said, and some days it bothers me more than others.  Sometimes it's difficult to imagine not going through turnstiles several times a day.  Then I think about people that don't have jobs and want them, people that would give a lot to go through these turnstiles.Some days I'm totally okay with it and others I'm disgusted.    So am I lucky or is this just a bad joke?  To be continued....

Pigeon Poop

As humans continue to develop on untouched land to build strip malls and planned communities, the natural environment is obviously going to be disturbed to the point where people are going to have the occasional run in with other species.  As ridiculous and self- centered as it seems, we often refer to nature as "pests" whenever we force ourselves into an area to live , forever.  Because once we build houses somewhere, it's not as though we are going to give the area back to the rats once we die.  No, someone else will move into our home and it will be a designated human spot indefinitely.

So we discovered a bit of a problem that is a new one for me personally.  I've lived in Northern California my entire life and have had a usual so called pests.  Let's see, there have been mice and rats, bees, ants, a variety of crawly bugs, black widows and other spiders, skunks and raccoons.  Oh, and a burglar we startled while breaking into our duplex.  Now, in our new home, we're having a wasp problem and we were starting to have a black widow problem but that seems to have gone away.  But we have a mess that is a new one for us, pigeons. 

I thought pigeons were only a problem in other places where they roost and hang out on ledges in busy cities.  But, they have taken a liking to our house.  They actually really like our neighbors house, I know because that is where they are nesting, but they spend as much time perched on our ledges.  People that visit us listen to me complain about it and always say, "but they make such pretty noises".  That may be true but for some oddball and picky reason, I don't like bird shit all over the house and driveway and patio.  Sure, I could shoot them, but that will just upset people and it's a little harsh.  We looked at fake owls that supposedly scare off the birds but the guy at Lowe's just laughed and said the birds will avoid the owl for a few days and then just start pooping on it as well.  Nobody seemed to have a simple answer, other than shooting them, which is what the guy at Lowe's said to do.

After doing some research, I found some wonderful products designed to keep the pigeons away.  I knew of the spikes because I have seen those on buildings in San Francisco.  In case you're interested, you can buy bird proofing here, here and here.  In preparation, I recently purchased a 24 foot ladder to facilitate reaching the highest of ledges to install the "bird proofing".  I kept thinking about Clark Griswold putting up his lights and damn near killing himself in the process.  So this is to be continued for now, I guess.