Archive by Author

The Motherhumping Heat

1 Jun

by

Dear this year’s weather:

You suck for making floods in the Midwest while we are in a bone-crushing drought.

You can kiss my ass for visiting countless severe storms and tornados on the South while we sit here parched and on fire.

I go to turn off my car and burn my finger on the metal part of the key where it fits into the steering column? Really? It’s just now June 1 and we’re getting the worst of the typical August weather?

I hate the sultry. I hate the unrelenting oppression which continues through the darkest night. I hate that I can drink a 64-ounce water while I work in the yard and not have to tinkle later. I hate the smell of sweaty pits.

Why is it so damn hot? We live in a temperate zone if you hadn’t heard.

Whatever one’s position on global warming, you can’t deny that it farking sucks, weatherwise, in Austin right now. My sunglasses fog up when I step outside. My yard is dead. Our gorgeous greenbelt is turning brown. Mopac and Oak Hill are up in flames. Doggie footpads are burning on the concrete. I scalded my tongue on a bottled water that had been sitting on the passenger seat. Babies are dying inside parked cars. It is crushingly hot, way too early in the summer.

My car thermostat literally showed 124 F yesterday. How is that acceptable?

It is time to return to some average temperatures, weather. You heard me. Get off my lawn, or if you won’t, at least please rain on it a bit.

Old People on Bikes

5 May

by

Ages ago, back when I was a kid, there were different rules of the road for bicyclists. Some of you may be too young to remember that 30 years ago or more the conventional wisdom of the time said you should ride your bicycle AGAINST traffic so that drivers could see you coming. This was the same rule as for people walking (think rural roads with no sidewalks).

However, 20 or so years ago, the powers that be–don’t ask me; I have no idea who decides this shit– changed the rules for bicyclists. Ever since then, bicyclists have learned to ride WITH traffic. And with the advent of bike lanes on many roads, this is easier and safer than ever, EXCEPT for the old farts.

I’ve discovered a disturbing trend among the over 60 crowd in Austin. Maybe they dropped too much acid in their youth or listened to waaayy too much Beatles, but their biking skills seem to have reverted to their childhood. On far too many occasions, I’ve had an over 60 on a bike pull out in front of me going in the wrong direction in a bike lane. Of course, they’re not wearing a helmet either, but that’s another post. The completely bizarre thing is, most of these bike lanes have handy dandy arrows pointing in the direction that you are supposed to ride!

I don’t know how much simpler we could make it for these silly old coots. But we really need to get them better educated about the current rules of the road. I don’t want to mow down Gramps. I just want him to get off my lawn!

My Fellow Travelers

3 May

by

Thanks to some nasty weather, I’m 12 hours into what should have been a five-hour trip, and still haven’t left my home state. With that in mind, just a few points I’d like to make to the other 10,000 people in this airport with me.

1.) Please don’t stop suddenly in the middle of the concourse. Please don’t stop slowly. It’s best not to stop at all, really, because the 9,999 passengers also trying to walk on the concourse will either barrel into you from behind, or have to go around you – attempting to merge into the endless stream of people and babies and roll aboard suitcases. You wouldn’t suddenly just STOP in the middle of the freeway for no reason, would you? Then why are you doing it now? If you MUST stop and re-evaluate your path of travel, you need to move to the shoulder.

2.) When sitting in the waiting area prior to a flight, it is acceptable to consume one or more chairs. That is, until the area fills up with other passengers. At that point, you need to remove your bag, or your leg, or your book, or whatever item you have flung across the chair in order to hog it. In this age of completely full flights and shrinking seats, it’s absurd to assume that you will enjoy personal space at any time during a trip aboard an airplane so trying to create a false sense of it while others are left standing is just douchey.

3.) When you get to the baggage carousel, stay a step or two back from the belt. If all passengers stay a step or two back, then each person can see the approaching bags and step forward to retrieve his or her luggage. Stepping in front of me and blocking my access to the belt will not make your bag arrive sooner. And now I have to poke you on the shoulder to get you to move so I can get my bag. Dumbass.

4.) Weather delays and mechanical problems suck for everyone. All of us have delayed flights and are tired and stressed because we are going to be late to whatever thing we had to do at the other end of our trip. There is nothing special about your delay and no reason you should act so assholically because it just puts everyone in a worse mood. Don’t contribute to the problem. Just suck it up and deal.

5.)Why are you choosing not to wash your hands IN AN AIRPORT BATHROOM??? The germs of 10 million people live there. Disgusting.

6.) Really, just try to be a little self-aware. It would make a world of difference. Don’t bump into my head with your bag. Don’t roll over my toe. I’m happy to see you reunite with your long-lost whomever, but if you could just move over to the left to do your hugging, the rest of us could continue on our way.

7.) Stop cutting in line. Asshole.

8.) Lady in the platform heels, tight pants, gold jewelry and too much perfume. Yeah, I’m talking to you. You’re being ridiculous. Stop it. Hang up your phone and get busy disrobing so the rest of us can get through security before our flights leave.

9.) And finally to the man sitting next to me on the plane. Yes, It’s 1 a.m. and we’re all tired. Glad you can sleep. But, please, for the love of all that is pure and good in this world, remove your hand from inside your waistband. You’re not Al Bundy and you’re not at home.

Take heed or else you leave me no choice but to channel my inner Harrison Ford: “Get Off My Plane!”

People who use business cards

31 Mar

by

[Ed. Note: Yesterday, I wrote a piece on people who don't use business cards. True to form Mr. Rumbelow has decided to give his counterpoint. Direct all correspondence to him. :)]

I’ve got a drawer – where, incidentally, I used to keep my underwear – that I have lovingly named my “conference crap” drawer. It is full to the brim of lanyards, conference passes, free pencils, flyers, bags, annoying keyrings, glossy programmes and yes, you guessed it, business cards.

When you meet somebody new at a conference, your conversation could go one of two ways:

  • The Right Way “Hello, I’m Jamie”, “Hi, I’m Steve Jobs”, “Good to meet you Steve. Are you on Twitter?”, “Yes, I’m @stevejobsrules”, *Jamie gets out iPhone* “Great! I’m following you”, *Steve gets out iPhone* “Are you @jamierumbelow?”, “I am indeed!”, “I’m following you back”, “Fantastic”
  • The Wrong Way “Hello, I’m Jamie”, “Hi, I’m Steve Jobs”, “Good to meet you Steve. Do you have an annoying sized and shaped piece of paper with your name, telephone number and some unfunny quip about your business or home life?”, “I do indeed. Here it is”, *Jamie fumbles for wallet, tries to find space for Mr. Jobs’ card. Eventually:* “Ahh, here we go.” *Receives card and fumbles more for his own card, by which point he has forgotten this mystery Moo.com-touting man’s name or purpose*

Business cards are easily lost, forgotten, left or burnt. Business cards take up space in my wallet, which, frankly, is filled to the brim with the money I’ve saved on not buying business cards.

Besides, by the time I get your business card, I’m likely to have forgotten you, your job, or what you look like. If it’s a decent conference (in a decent country, but I’ll save that for another time), I’ll be drinking anyway so my memory will be even more fuzzy. They all end up in my conference crap drawer, so they lose context and meaning.

If I am following you on Twitter, a week later when I get back home I’ll be able to see a plethora of new people I’ve met. They’ll usually be tweeting about things specific to the conference I met them at, so they’re in context. They’ll have a picture so I can remember them. They’ll have a link to their website, so I’ll be able to find out their email or other social network details.

And for the love of Jehova, I can contact them. Anything at all I need to know I can contact them with. We have a rapport, having met face to face and having bought each other a pint.

So damnit Myer, stop using business cards and deal with the fact that we are in the 21st fucking century. Hell yeah.

School Project

24 Mar

by

When my 6th-grader said, nonchalantly on a Monday night, “I have to bring in 24 millet cakes for reading class Thursday,” I tried to rally my inner nice-mommy cheerleader. “Millet cakes, you say? Okey-dokey! No clue what those are, but sure!”

My cookbooks and favorite recipe website yielded only a little basic info like the fact that millet is a grain that cooks sort of like rice and looks sort of like couscous, and a version with its indigestable hull remaining on is common in pre-packaged birdseed. Sounds yummy. Google finally had several sources of seemingly the only single millet cake recipe in existance.

The next day the sick baby, the 4-yr-old and I scoured the shelves of 2 grocery stores–including the health food section with its various odd seeds, grains and $12 flours–no millet. I told my son, and he whined then said he’d pick another project from the list. “Wait,” I said, “there’s a list?” Why did I spend 2 hrs searching for damn birdseed when he had a list?

So Wednesday he told his teacher and lo and behold a classmate–whose mother went to the only other store in our small town–had indeed procured millet and brought a bag to class and divied it up into baggies like a weed dealer, sending my son home with his own millet dime bag.

The teacher had instructed the class that they were to do this project THEMSELVES. My kid who CRIES if I tell him he’ll have to make his own PB&J because I’m IN THE SHOWER is supposed to mince onion and garlic and fry with hot oil? Right. He measured some parmesan, grated a carrot, said, “call me when it’s time to stir something,” and left the kitchen.

All told there was 10 min of prep, 40min of cooking, 30min of cooling, 20min of shaping the resultant glop into patties, 20min of chilling, then 40 min of frying–individual millet grains inexplicably bursting, airborne, like popcorn, splattering the stovetop my shirt and my arms with searing-hot oily schrapnel. The first batch stuck to the pan, so I scraped the hot gunk out, re-shaped it, switched to a non-stick pan (that’s 3 dirtied pans now, if you’re counting), and continued frying in batches.

Meanwhile my husband called from 1000 miles away to have me look-up a computer document for our home business, then berated me for not finding it. The 4-yr old shredded several sheets of paper all over the counter and floor. The baby crawled, whining, at my feet, dragged the contents of the lowest pantry shelf and the utensil drawer all over the kitchen, and shit in her diaper.

But I made them–my nice-Mommy-ness all nestled golden-brown in Tupperware.  Then my son came in, said, “Oh, they’re done. What’s for dinner?” And the kicker was that the shit tasted GOOD!  Like I would totally make those damn millet cakes for dinner some night if my millet dealer’d hook me up and if I didn’t fear the smell of them would trigger PTSD.  It sticks in the teeth a little, but nothing a little Jack can’t wash down.

So thanks, teacher, for assigning me greasy, ridiculous homework.  Thanks for putting my college degree to use.  Thanks for teaching your class to waste time and money and ingredients on food when you know damn well they’re going to take one nibble, declare them “wierd,” and fling them in the trash. Teacher, take your freakin millet cakes and “get off my lawn!”

Run Over Parents

23 Mar

by

While working the front door security of a department store, I saw a couple walk up with their 6 year old daughter in a stroller. The couple asked me where the Starbucks was because their daughter needed her coffee.

Now this child looked like she was being groomed for a beauty pageant; her mother looked like she only wanted the best for herself. So after informing them we had no Starbucks inside the store but had a generic coffee cart out front, they soon returned and the child had a coffee in hand.

The mother immediately handed the stroller to the father while she rushed to the jewelry counter,like she could fit anymore gold on her body.While waiting for Mommy, Dad looked bored and daughter proceeded to get her lipstick (yes lipstick!) from her little purse to primp.

She soon became bored and started yelling at Dad. When he asked her very nicely to please quiet down she hauled off and smacked the hell out of him right across the face–and he just shut up and left her alone! Now what I saw was parents who are grooming a child to be hugely let down by the world when she discovers the Earth doesn’t really revolve around her.

Every grey hair and wrinkle they get from this child is exactly what they deserve. Unfortunately, now we’ll have to deal with her as well.

DVD Movie Trailers

17 Mar

by

OK film studios, it’s like this. If I enjoy your film, I want to see it in my own home, so I buy it on DVD (or Blu-ray, these days).

I want to settle down with a beer and watch the movie. I do NOT want to be forced to wade through 25 minutes of frigging trailers!

Blessed are the discs which confine their trailers to an option on the menu. You can see what’s in there, look at what interests you, and never have to worry about them again. This is the civilized, and unfortunately all-too-rare method.

Some discs will go into the trailers, and at least allow you to press the menu button to skip them all. Again, this is all too uncommon.

So we are left with the discs that start with the trailers, disallow the menu button and force you to hit the ‘skip’ button on Every. Single. One. before you can get to the damn movie.

Did I mention that I bought the disc? That by the time I have seen the movie five times, chances are that the trailers will be for films that have been out for some time? I probably have them if I want them, and if I don’t want them, leave me the smeg alone! And if it’s ten years later, those films are probably consigned to the $4.99 bin at Blockbuster anyway, if they’re still available at all?

And God help us when the studio puts trailers on the disc for the FILM YOU ARE ABOUT TO WATCH. Disney, I am looking at you.

At least in the days of video cassettes, they only put trailers on the rental versions. I wish that were still the case, but I suppose few enough people rent these days that the studios are just going to subject us all to this for ever more. *sigh*

Get those trailers off my lawn!

Stop Being So Goddamn Nice

16 Mar

by

Situation #1:
I was at a 4-way stop, with a truck on my right which stopped at least a second before I did.

Even if we had arrived at the intersection at the same time, the guy in the truck had the right-of-way, since you yield to the person on the right. See, I just recently completed a Defensive Driving course and I’ve become “johnny-on-the-spot” about driving rules and regulations. I KNOW my shit about right-of-ways.

So at the intersection, I wait. He’s supposed to go. He’s actually got DOUBLE the right-of-way. But he just sits there, looking at me. In my mind, he’s waiting for me to go so he can “gun” it and sideswipe me… since I was clearly not following traffic regulations, and he needs a new truck. So I creep up a little and wait. He waits. Finally, after about 3 hours of this (I may be exaggerating), he starts waving at me to go. What?! No! That’s not how this is supposed to work! YOU have the right-of-way! Just fucking go!

Situation #2:
I was getting on the freeway, as I sometimes do. About halfway up the entrance ramp, I notice an SUV on the freeway going about the same speed. Naturally, I decide to slow down a little, since Defensive Driving teaches us: Whoever has the speed, has the right-of-way. And then… she starts slowing down. Trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, and thinking maybe she’s thinking I’m going to be an asshole and outrun her, I slow down even further. Then SHE slows down. And I slow down. And she slows down. Eventually, we’re both going about 20mph on Hwy 71, and I just floor it. Now I’m driving angry and pissed at the world just because she was trying to be nice.

Look, I understand the desire to be nice to others. Sometimes even I will be nice- like giving a dollar to a homeless person, or letting someone with only 2 items go ahead of me in the grocery store (who will inevitably be paying by check. A check? Seriously? In 2011? Anyway…). When we’ve agreed as a society on the way certain things should work, we should uphold those values. Don’t subvert our social contract for YOUR misplaced altruistic needs. Because, now, you’ve put all that effort into being “nice”, and you actually come off as an asshole.

So stop being so goddamn nice or GET OFF MY FREEWAYS!

The New Karate Kid Is Inferior To The Original In Every Way

15 Mar

by

Okay, so I finally watched the new Karate Kid movie. It was bad. It was really bad. I want to tell people how bad it was, but now I’m having to watch it AGAIN to make sure I get it right. TWICE I’ve had to watch this thing, all so you don’t have to. I don’t mean to call myself a martyr…after you read this, you can decide for yourself. Spoiler alert, here comes the whole movie, point by inferior-in-every-way point.

Okay, right out of the gate, we see Jaden Smith as Dre, the inferior replacement for Daniel. He’s a little kid. The Karate Kid was a coming of age story. This kid’s nowhere near ready to come of any sort of age. It’s almost like when there’s a movie about adults (like Superman) and make them about teens (Smallville). This is like that, but one step further down. Think Karate Kid meets Muppet Babies. Expectations lowered? Good, here we go.

Dre and his mom are moving to China. Okay, two problems here. First, the original did have “fish out of water” elements, but both Daniel AND Mr. Miyagi were from elsewhere, so they were both somewhat out of place. In this iteration, Dre goes to the home of Mr. Han, the inferior replacement for Miyagi. Not only does this reduce the character’s depth, but that’s also the plot of Karate Kid 2, so it just feels like they’re rushing ahead before the story even starts.

Second problem about going to China (and this is a big one – maybe the biggest problem of the movie): Karate is from Japan, Kung Fu is from China. You can’t call it Karate Kid if there’s no Karate involved. Mr. Han teaches him Kung Fu. They even call it Kung Fu in the movie. THE MOVIE IS CALLED KARATE KID! IDIOTS!

So anyway, there they are in China, and a few plot points later they introduce the bully and his buddies, the love interest, and he gets to meet Mr. Han. I could go into how they took out the class structure differences from the original between the kid and the love interest, but lack of depth is something you’re just going to have to get used to in order to get through this.

Anyway, same ol’, same ol’ for a bit. Just when you think things might be smoothing out, we reach the inevitable point where Dre goes to find a dojo. And yes, it’s just the Chinese version of the “No Mercy” Cobra Kai dojo of the original. And yes, the bully is in the class.

But, here’s where we fall apart again. In the original, various fights with mom and other adolescent outbursts at the local bullies ultimately ended in a fucked up bike. Mr. Miyagi finds the bike and fixes it, earning Daniel’s trust. He has to, since he is to become Daniel’s father figure. In the new version, no bicycle. Oh, there’s bikes, and the bullies are messing with the bikes, but not Dre’s bike. Dre doesn’t even have a bike. It’s almost like the writers are rubbing it in your face that they’re leaving that part out. The result: glossed over character development and elimination of back story. I’m getting used to that part by now, but here’s where it gets weird.

Jackie Chan (Mr. Han) beats up a bunch of little boys. Remember I said this was Muppet Babies meets Karate Kid? Well, we’re now at the part where Han saves Dre from a bully beat-down. Jackie’s pretty old, too. So, that’s a little uncomfortable to watch. Plus, instead of the hand-heat-palm trick to fix up Daniel that Miyagi had, Mr. Han uses some CGI fire, so that just super sucks. I wish I had a phrase better than “super sucks,” and I thought for quite a while about it, but it just describes it perfectly.

Okay, so in both movies, now the mentor takes the kid to the evil dojo, and after a stare-down between sensei and sensei, the kid gets roped into a tournament and the mentor decides to teach the kid martial arts. Pretty on par again, but alas, this is short lived. Now comes the training, and it’s time for some more suck.

If you don’t know “Wax On, Wax Off,” you’re missing an important part of American history. Not only did Mr. Miyagi teach Daniel Karate, he taught him important trade skills. I mean, this was a blue-collar kid, he was way more interested in girls and kicking ass than he was his school work. Beating the shit out of high school bullies won’t get you that far, especially after you turn 18. The boy is going to need a trade. By the time he could kick ass, Daniel could paint, wash and wax cars, sand, and by the sequel, even do general carpentry! For this magical retelling – Dre learns to pick up his jacket. That’s it. Just the jacket thing. No skills he can take with him, no lesson on the rewards of hard work, just an over-handed lesson in manners, and an incredibly repetitive one at that.

Oh, did I mention Mr. Han had a car in his living room? Yeah, so he’s this weirdo who got drunk and killed his family in a car wreck, and now he keeps the car in his house and rebuilds it every year, only to destroy it on the anniversary of the accident. No shit, that’s his back story. Remember Mr. Miyagi was a war hero that lost his wife and child during childbirth? Well, screw that, we have a crazy drunk with a car in his house that likes to hang around and/or hit little boys. And the kid’s mom is obviously cool with that, right? She even hangs out with Mr. Han a bit, so it’s obviously okay to leave her kid for hours on end unsupervised with this guy, right? Plus, they show Han catching flies with his chopsticks and eating with the same sticks right after, like some gross old man. In the original, catching a fly with chopsticks was an exercise in patience. In the new one, it’s an exercise in controlling nausea. So, yeah, he’s pretty much a general weirdo.

Well, anyway, they finally get to the “let me show you what I’ve really been teaching you” part, so now we get to move on to the rite of passage. In the original, Daniel is training on the beach and sees Mr. Miyagi doing the Crane Technique. So, the master imparting a special secret signature move onto his student, like a father to a son – pretty easy symbolism right? Well, for Dre, he not only learns his secret move by seeing someone else do it (a lady at a mountain temple they visit), but instead of more training, he drinks Super Kung Fu Water. I’m not shitting you, special secret temple kung fu water. Screw emulating your father figure, let’s take the secret shortcut to success!

I guess even the crew needed a break after the kung fu water, so it goes back into a long version of the love interest story. Boy and girl are getting along, then there’s trouble, boy apologizes, they’re all good again, blah blah blah. The only difference is there’s no real past with the girl and the bully in the new version, but considering the age, I’m feeling a little creepy watching them as is, much less thinking of them even younger. So, after a montage or two with vastly inferior music, and a little more training (apparently the Kung Fu Water needed a little help), Dre takes his new found Kung Fu Power and heads off to kick some ass at the tournament.

Go ahead and get mad, but I’m saying it. Red Hot Chili Peppers makes shitty montage music. How do I know? That’s what’s in the new movie, and compared to the Joe Esposito classic “You’re The Best,” it is vastly inferior. Maybe not under normal listening circumstances, but for karate montages, there’s no doubt.

To add insult to injury, there’s this joke about Dre making a face when he punches. Karate revenge is not funny; Karate revenge is serious business. Just ask the kid who plays the Chinese Johnny Leg Sweep character – while his leg attack was superior, and although he also felt bad, he did not apologize like the original Johnny did. This makes his character inferior, as it is another moral lesson lost in the new translation: when you do something wrong, the least you can do is apologize!

To help close with the same hollow feeling that the movie left me with, I’ll get you through this last part as quickly as possible. As you can imply from above, Dre gets the leg sweep treatment and ends up in the locker room. After a little more magic fire from Mr. Han, he jumps back in the game and takes out the bully with the new signature move. No crane this time…it’s a cobra thing. I don’t think they caught the irony that the bad guys in the original were Cobra Kai. I don’t think they’re that smart. And the move…it sucks. It’s some sort of magic hypnotism thing, and it fucking works, and that’s just stupid and it sucks.

So, in summary, the original Karate Kid was a classic. It taught morality, discipline, the rewards of labor, and told the story of an important surrogate father figure for a young boy coming of age and dealing with a class struggle in a new town. The new Karate Kid was a trite piece of shit rip-off with worse acting, worse writing, worse soundtrack, worse setting, just about worse everything. I don’t want to even mention how creepy the symbolism of an old man teaching a young kid how to “ring a bell” is, either. Plus, no bicycle.

Ticket fees

14 Mar

by

Ticket sellers these days really know how to rake in the money. And for what?

“Convenience charges.” I ask you. Convenient how, exactly, when many times there is no alternative option, no matter how ‘inconvenient’ it may be?

Click and print tickets. Great idea. I can understand paying for shipping charges if someone has to put the tickets in an envelope and put stamps on it and mail it, all of which costs a few cents each. Fine.

But when I am putting my own paper and my own ink together and printing my own tickets, why the hell should I pay as much, if not more, than for the standard shipping fee?!

You’re not doing jack for this money, Mr Ticket Agent!

Get right off my lawn. Before I charge you to print a photo of it.