30 Sep, 2006
Today I gave blood again for the Red Cross. I guess there was a shortage of O+ so they called me up. Apparently I also have tested negative for Cytomegalovirus which is found in 50% and 85% of adults in the United States by age 40. So even my blood is uber-awesome because I can donate for babies and people with immunity problems. Can you donate for babies? Yeah whatever Standard-Blood.
20 Apr, 2007
I got a letter in the mail today informing me that I've officially donated enough blood this year to be considered a Silver-level member in the Champions for Life Frequent Blood Donor Program. So what special benefits does a "Silver" member get? Glad you asked. In addition to feeling superior to the common man, the letter also lists the following benefits: Special VIP service at all donor centers. That's right, they use REAL iodine instead of that red Kool-Aid they put on everyone else. ("I wondered why my arm tasted like Berry Blast...") I get an online membership - in case I want to give blood through the internet I suppose (glad I got that fiber line - I'd hate to give blood over dial-up). And my favorite service: "...be invited to members only blood drives." Uh... what? Is there a bouncer outside named "Jimbo" turning people away? Do we want to keep people out? So they have invitation-only blood drives for special people to donate blood - and the only requirement for being part of this select group is... giving blood?
17 Aug, 2006
When we first arrived as Disney we were more than a little tired, so we decided to have a sit down dinner and experience of the legendary Disney-quality service. Earlier we had noticed an advertisement for the Maya Grill in the elevator. The ad read:
Maya Grill - Enchantment will always besiege you during breakfast or dinner.1
We thought that it was an editing mistake... until we arrived. Seated next to the kitchen, we got the worst waiter employeed by Disney. We conjectured he had already given his two weeks because he didn't care about anything. Also it turns out I'm allergic to our hypo-allergenic sunblock. Found that out during dinner as well. Hooray!
1 Interestingly Enchantment only besieges you during breakfast or dinner - during lunch, Enchantment has its smoke break.
We have returned! Soon I'll post all of the interesting details, but first let me mention the heightened security restrictions we ran into on our return flight. Apparently Thursday something happened in the UK. (I'm still a little vague on the details and I can't seem to find anything in the news on it. I did however find a video of Britney Spears burping on the front page of CNN.com. Nothing like hard-core journalism bringing us news that matters...)
So apparently we're not allowed to take liquids or liquid-like things on board our plane (chocolate, lip-gloss, etc.). We read about it in the paper on the way to the airport so we moved our chocolate lip-gloss to our checked luggage. Apparently other people weren't informed (or didn't listen) and they had to jettison their stuff at the security check point. It's normal stuff mostly (see the picture), Dr. Pepper, cosmetics, etc. but note the bottle of Listerine. Who in their right mind would carry a gallon of Listerine with them as carry-on? A gallon. I mean, how bad can your breath be? Honestly, unless you're the President of the Halitosis Society, you're probably good with no more than a pint of Listerine. If you're particularly unpopular, maybe a quart.
Just so no one thinks I'm kidding about Britney's burp being on the front page of CNN.com, here's a screenshot:
Seriously. Have we all turned in our brains for Chuck E. Cheese tokens?
Did you ever notice how people (and this may just be city folk) will stop at a traffic light, then while they're waiting for the light to change the whole group will slowly creep forward, packing together more tightly? It's like when you open a cereal box or a bag of potato chips and think "Why is the bag so big if it's only half full?" The answer: They settle during shipment.1 Sometimes people creep way out into the intersection as if doing so will make the light change faster. Here's a tip: It won't.
My favorite thing to do if I'm the second person in line at a light with a Creeper in front of me is not to roll forward at all. I don't care how far they creep forward, I stay right where I am. Then, by the time the the light turns green they're almost a full car length into the intersection with this huge gap of space behind them. My hope is that they'll see that huge gap and regret their creepiness. Alternatively, they can serve as a bad example for cars driving by. "What's wrong with that guy? Why don't the other cars like him?" I've seen people who literally crept forward a full car length over the "stop line" in the road. Inevitably they block the crosswalk. Why do they do it?
I have 3 theories:
1. They really DO believe that it will change faster. Like people who apologize when they run into inanimate objects, they think that the traffic light will sense their urgency. "Thank you Mr. Traffic Light"
2. They're blissfully unaware that they're moving at all. They're jammin' to Vanilla Ice oblivious to the fact that they're flowing like a harpoon (daily and nightly).
3. Leg spasms due to a neurological condition caused by eating yellow snow when they were eight years old. Timmy said it was magic snow. Timmy was a damn liar.
1 Here's a thought: Why don't cereal manufacturers have a device that simulates shipment? Then they could pack more delicious sugar-coated goodness per box. They could use the same technology as "magic fingers" beds. Alternatively they could hand the boxes to 5-year-olds high on Frosted Flakes. That plus a Barney video should do the trick.
I've been playing The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Walker recently and it's occured to me that video games do have lessons to teach young people. For example, throughout most of the RPGs that I've played over the years, one lesson seems repeated: If you're important, you live in a house. If you're going to be an NPC ("non-player character" for those that had a social life in their youth), you're effectively of no value to the main character unless you live in house. You'll have no quest items, you won't generally be selling anything; you're pretty much just interactive scenery. Odds are, you'll repeat the same phrases over and over. If you live in a town that is near something of importance you might say something mildly useful: "That red dragon doesn't like arrows." or "If there was only a way to get over the mountains...".
But if you live in a house, you might be a shop keeper or have an item or knowledge that essential to solving a quest. Let's face it, homeless people just aren't very important. The caveat to all of this is that your "house" could be just about anything - a giant seashell, a room in a dungeon, even a literal hole in the ground. So a word to the wise: if you ever find yourself in an RPG the first thing you want to do is contact your real estate agent. As with all purchases, a real estate agent will tell you "Location, location, location." This is also true of RPGs. If you can manage to live on the top of Mount Impossible-to-get-to, odds are, you'll be very important. You can hardly hope to hold the Sword of Uberness if you live in a cottage near the off-ramp. If you can manage to live in a whale or in some type of sky castle, that's a plus.
10 bedroom/1.5 bath Castle of Fortitude. MUST SELL! Charming and spacious. Some goblins. For inquires, call Cheryl at 1-800-CASTLE1. SERIOUS BUYERS ONLY!
We begin lesson number 2 in How to Cope if You Find Yourself in an RPG Video Game: Buy in Bulk.
Generally speaking 4 bottles of Boo-Boo Better Potion™ weigh as much as 40 bottles. 'Tis the magic of the bottomless RPG backpack. When you're down in the Dungeon of Infinite Rooms you won't want to trek all the way back to Townshire for another transaction with the local apothecary. Buy in bulk and stock up. Because you'll never know when you'll encounter that Dire Werewolf and that's a bad time realize that you've only got 2 Silver Arrows of Dire Werewolf Slaying left. If you *can* carry 999 of them, DO carry 999 of them.
In fact, the only reason that you're able to slay the Dragon of Kicking Your Butt is to use 998 of your Boo-Boo Better potions as it repeatedly pokes you in the eye - let's face it, your Rusty Sword of Futility +1 isn't going to slay any dragons. Your best hope is to annoy it to death with head-butts.
I was recently doing some research on the web regarding "Keeping cool at DisneyWorld", looking for suggestions on "wear light clothing", "freeze a water bottle", and things like that. I came across a site on About.com regarding "More Frugal Ways to Keep Cool". I skimmed through it until a statement caught my eye: "Take old fashioned aspirin to prevent sunburn."
Er, what?
Sure enough, the author, Pat Veretto, was advocating the use of aspirin to prevent sunburn. There was an accompanying statement something to the effect of "take 30 minutes before going outside". What? How can that possibly be?
Incredulous, I decided to see if science backs up the claim. I mean, I'm not a doctor - maybe it is true somehow.
Yeah, no. It's not. The closest thing I found was that aspirin will relieve the pain of the sunburn - not actually prevent the sunburn. Which only makes sense. So why is this person advocating the use of sheep's bladders to prevent earthquakes? I decided to write a letter:
"Take old fashioned aspirin to prevent sunburn."
I was alarmed to read your advice about taking aspirin to prevent
sunburns. Taking asprin will NOT prevent sunburns or other damage to
your body by the radation of the sun. At most, it will ease the pain
caused by sunburns. But you experience pain from sunburns for a reason
- because your body is being damaged by the sun!
Please correct this statement and be more careful in the future.
-Don Atreides
Here's a picture of Joe Average
after taking a Bayer. Note how the
sun's radiation reflects off of his
now impervious asprin-exoskeleton.
A few days later, the website was corrected. Hooray!
I wish she had issued a retraction, rather than just deleting it; it would have been better for those that had already seen the article. But then, she also thought that aspirin would prevent solar radiation.
Here's the link if anyone is interested in Frugal Ways to Keep Cool: http://frugalliving.about.com/cs/heatingcooling/a/062000_2.htm
Recently, I've been playing a real-time strategy game called "Fire Department 3". It's a fun game and I've been enjoying it, but the funny thing about it is they seem to want to apply a story-line to it. I haven't been following the story very closely, but one aspect is that it involves a central character named Frank. Other than the story, there doesn't seem to be any significance to the character - no distinct powers/skills, etc. so for the most part I've ignored him. I don't understand why they can't just have a plot of: "Stuff is on Fire!" Anyway, "Frank" is considered a "special" character and shows up as a seperate unit during your briefing:
So I begin to wonder, will there ever be more Franks? I mean, is there going to be a fire at a cloning facility or similar and an army of Franks are going to pour out, fire-axes in hand? Is there going to be a point in the game where only a fighterfigher named Frank will be able to save that crying baby?
The fire chief stood on the street, the reflective stripes on his jacket catching the lights of the fire engine parked on the lawn of the burning house. His breath showed in the cold air while he awaited the approaching crew of the newly arrived Engine 76.
"It's about damn time!" the fire chief shouted into the cold of the night air. "What are your names?"
"Frank sir," said one of the yellow-clad fire-fighters walking toward the chief.
"Frank is it? Well get on the ladder, you're roof support." The chief glanced at the next fireman coming up through the dark. "What about you?"
"Keith sir." said a broad shouldered fire-fighter as he started to equip the bulk of his respirator.
"Whoa there. Did you say 'Keith'?" The fire cheif motioned towards the engine. "Back in the truck."
"Sir?"
"You heard me. Back on the truck. We don't need every Tom, Dick, and Keith in there. This is for real kid. People are trapped in that building. You get on the horn and tell dispatch that we need more Franks."
"But..." Keith removed the oxygen tank from his back.
"Now dammit!"
Keith hustled back to the engine. The chief shook his head - when was dispatch going to get it right? "Gonna be a long night..." he mumbled as he walked toward the burning building.
As a manager, things are often deposited on my desk randomly. Today it was a password sheet:
I've got the Mystery Password Sheet on my desk. I see passwords and the word "STRODID" and "TOAC" (TOHC?) written on it with no other info. I think it's a secret message - probably from ninjas. My decoder ring is broken at the moment though, so I'm going to put it in the "Less-Mysterious" Password Sheet Cache.
If a ninja named Strodid comes looking for his toac, it's there.
Back when Ophelia was headed our way, I sent this email to my company (it's a small company) that I thought was funny:
Apparently tropical storm Ophelia is off the east coast of Florida at the time being. Hurricane Katrina has raised my paranoia level considerably so I wanted to send out an email letting everyone know about Ophelia. I'm going to have my teenager fill up the gas tank today (gosh, they're handy) and I'd recommend the same for everyone else. (If you don't have a teenager, they can usually be found in malls. Careful, they scatter quickly.) Don't forget, you should have 1 gallon of drinkable water per person per day for 3 days and two-weeks worth of non-perishable food. (Though, what good 1.5 weeks worth of food will do you without water is beyond me.)
Don's Paranoia level currently: Level 2 - Email everybody
Don's Paranoia Level Indicator:
Level 1 - Hoard pencils and chewing gum
Level 2 - Email people with predicitions of doom
Level 3 - Duck and Cover
Level 4 - Roam the streets MadMax-style with big leather shoulder-pads taking pencils and chewing gum from the elderly.
For more information, check out http://www.ready.gov/
The Reduced Shakespeare Company, a three-man team that does comedy plays is doing a complete history of america... in about 90 minutes. It's fast, so listen close. You younger folk may want to read a history book (or watch Forrest Gump) so that you get some of the older jokes. (Roxy and I agree that they were a bit heavy on the Nixon and Reagan jokes, BTW1.)
All in all it was quite funny. Don't sit in the front rows unless you want to get wet. Roxy and I were fortunate to be about half-way up and out of aqua-range2. There were a lot of good jabs at everyone throughout history. If you have a chance to see this show, you should take it.
Oh, and I almost forgot, Newt Gingrich was there in the audience. So naturally they worked in a few "Newt" jokes. I saw him walking up the aisle at intermission and said "That guy looks just like Newt Gingrich." Apparently, it was Newt Gingrich, so I was right.
1 For those not savvy, "BTW" is netspeak for "by the way". For those not savvy, "netspeak" is chat-room shorthand. Savvy?
2 I'm not sure how I came up with "aqua-range", but I'll bet it's one of Aquaman's powers. And considering that Aquaman's powers are lame at best, he needs all the powers he can get. "Swim fast my dolphin friends! We need to get within Aqua-range!"
I thought I'd write a post about two books I've recently purchased:
Yes, I can read. Also, I bought both books used and one of them was purchased from http://betterworldbooks.com/ through Amazon.com which helps fund literacy. Actually it was the Al Franken book which I purchased for $0.01 plus shipping and handling for a total of $3.50. I'm not sure how they make any money for literacy programs by selling a book for $0.01 + shipping, but somehow they do. And it arrived promptly.
For further justification, I'll very likely donate them both to the local library once I'm done with them. Unless I really like them, but that's pretty rare. In fact, I think the only hardback books I own are (in no particular order):
- Cosmos
- The Natural History of the Universe
- Dune
- Contact
So anyway, someone might say: "Al Franken and Ann Coulter? Aren't they diametrically opposed?" Yes they are, and when they meet at an atomic level, they produce enough energy to power the U.S.S. Enterprise (Enterprise D obviously, with shields to max1). In fact, in Franken's book, chapter 2 is titled "Ann Coulter: Nutcase". I started with Franken's book because, well, it had cartoons in it.
Ann Coulter is notoriously conservative (read: Right-wing Nut) and Al Franken is notoriously liberal (read: Pinko-Commie). While I would certainly enjoy reading only the viewpoints that I agree with, it's probably a good idea to get a sampling across the board. You'll note no real moderates - they're boring and hardly make for good reading. "I think we should find a middle-ground." Pfft. Like that's going to sell any books.
I think I'm reading more in part because I'm so disgusted with television. It's too much reality-TV and mush-brain humor. And the marketing that airs every 8.5 minutes is just plain insulting. I'm reading again, THANKS television.
Actually I haven't watched television in quite some time, but that's another thread for another day.
-Peace out.2
1Not to go on a tangent here, but they always say "Shields up, full power." or similar. Why? Do you ever call for the shields up and say "You know, like maybe just a bit." Is there some type of Bug Deflector setting on Worf's console? "Shields to 10% Lt. Worf. That Klingon warship is kicking up gravel and I just got her waxed."
2I'm not sure what that means, but I heard it somewhere. I'm fairly certain it makes me cool somehow.
I saw a bumper sticker today something to the effect of "Give blood - Get a tattoo".
Isn't the point of getting a tattoo to be different? I mean, isn't it a way of setting yourself apart from the crowd? If so, why on earth would you want more people getting tattoos? Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?
I don't think I could ever get a tattoo - I'm too dynamic. I mean, in my youth I was quite religious, now I'm a damn dirty atheist. I mean, what if I get a tattoo of something I think is cool now, but then, years later I think, "You know what? Spud McKenzie isn't really that cool after all. He's just a dog in sunglasses. I got a tattoo of a dog in sunglasses. I'm an idiot."
I think I'll play it safe and get something that will never be uncool. Like a wolf. Yeah, a cool wolf.
Some friends of mine from out of town came to visit this weekend past and we all decided to go to Mount Vernon. For those who went to public school like myself, Mount Vernon is the estate where George Washington (former U.S. president, in case you sat in the back of the class) lived.
So anyway, we're chilling out under a shady tree after having done the Mansion tour. As we're sitting a family with two little girls walks past and the one girl falls and scrapes her knee. At this point I reach for my backpack (which also coincidentally holds everyone's bottles of water and other accoutrements) and pull out my first-aid kit. I give the girl's mother an antiseptic wipe and a self-adhesive bandage (Band-Aid is a trademarked name). Off they go without infection to have a presumably wonderful day.
The point of this story is... uh... don't make fun of my backpack! Coincidentally I also usually wear a lumbar pack (aka. the Utility Belt) to carry necessities instead of a wallet. I've decided that I'm starting a trend of down-to-earth accessories. It's slow going at the moment, but I'm pretty sure Brad Pitt will be wearing one shortly and it's sure to catch on from there. Then I'll be Mr. Cool Guy and everyone else will be thinking "That Don's a trend-setter." and "I wish I had a Fanny Pa.... er... Lumbar Pack / Utility Belt." I mean, nobody made fun of Batman right? But then, he could scale walls... I'm still working on that. So far I've scaled the ladder we have and hurdled a child safety gate. I was going to jump over our low wall, but it was pretty wet outside.
I remember my parents trying to keep up the illusion of Santa Claus when I was growing up. I distinctly remember being 8 or 9 and questioning the whole setup. They even went so far as to forge letters from the red-drenched saint in an effort to keep the gig going. All for naught it would turn out as I had devised a plan to prove once and for all that the "nice list" enforcer was a sham.
It went like this.
On Christmas eve I went off to bed. After about an hour, I could hear my parents still up in the kitchen. Our Christmas tree was in the living room and to my good fortune, my mother had already pulled out the couch bed - probably so that the presents wouldn't interfere with it's operation. (We lived in a trailer home and my mother and step-father slept on the fold-out couch in the living room.) With cat-like steath I open my door at the other end of the trailer and peered out. My next task was to get through the squeaky hallway. Trailers tend to creak and groan with the slightest upset - even the weight of a husky 8-year-old caused a bit of noise. Using two pillows, I navigated down the corridor; standing on one and placing the other in front of myself to step on. I had previously charted the squeakiest portions of the floor and took care to avoid these areas. After slowly and carefully slinking to the end of the hallway, I began the G.I. Joe belly-crawl underneath the fold-out couch. Fortunately, I was wearing my G.I. Joe pajamas which likely enhanced my abilities. I can't remember whether I had planned that as well, but it seems likely. As not to arouse suspicions, I pulled the pillows under the bed with me and waited.
Here's where the flaw in my plan became painfully obvious. After I had witnessed the putting-out of presents from my most devious hiding place, my parents proceeded naturally into bed. This posed a problem as I was under said bed. It would seem I had no exit strategy.
At this point, your average ninja or super-commando might panic. Not I. I opted instead to sleep on the matter. Fortunately the excitement of Christmas didn't allow me to snooze for very long and I woke up within a few hours. (Christmas was a night of insomnia for me for a long as I can remember.) It was then a simple matter of reversing the process. The pillow-step-switch-pillow-step routine became tiresome about half-way down the hall and I decided to make a run for my bedroom. My mother snored very loudly when asleep and, as it droned on despite my mad-dash, so I believe it went undetected.
You might think that I would be saddened by the loss of the mythical gift-bringer or perhaps resentful of my parents for the deceit, but at the time I was too self-satisfied to care. I slipped in the covers for a nap and the next morning I awoke and dove head-first into my presents Wolvie-berzerk style, just as I had every other year.
So I had this genius idea that I won't go into, but suffice to say, it involved becoming a Virginia State vehicle safety inspector. So naturally I check their website for the requirements. Negatory on that good buddy. But they did have an email address and a phone number. So I sent an email. The account was bad, so I notified the webmaster:
"I've discovered the problem: Becky's name changed recently and I wasn't notified to make the change on our Safety Div. web page. I have just made the change and her new address is: something.something@vsp.virginia.gov."
So did you forward my email request on? No, of course not.
So I sent my own request on to the corrected address. Here are the results:
Don: Hello. What are the requirements for becoming a Virginia state vehicle safety inspector?
Becky: You need to call me at 804-378-3482.
Don: I'll give you a call as time permits. In the meantime though, is it possible to receive some information via email?
Becky: What is your phone number?
Don: My number is 555-555-5555 but I'm afraid I'm unavailable for a while. Is there any chance you could just answer this question via email? Maybe there's a boiler-plate document that you could send me with the requirements?
Becky: We do not have anything on E-Mail.
WHY on earth do you have a website with an email address!? So you can send people your phone number? You "don't have anything on E-Mail"? Here's a tip: Use the little keyboard (the one with the buttons, no that's the mouse...) to TYPE SOMETHING!
A note to all people who believe in "government conspiracies" let me put your mind at ease - there aren't any. The government, by accident or design, does not hire people capable of conspiracies of any kind. Or people able to use "E-Mail". Or the Internets. Sadly, our government is composed of Swiss Cake Rolls in business casual. Possibly Zebra Cakes.
In my mini-first-aid kit, I've got band-aids, antiseptic wipes, ibuprofen, and something called "extra-strength non-asprin". Ok great, but what is it? Well, it's not aspirin. Fine. It's also not a giraffe. Should it read: "Extra-strength non-aspirin/non-giraffe"? Because it's not. In teeny-tiny letters under "Extra-Strength Non-Aspirin" it does say acetaminophen which is Tylenol. To their credit, it does say on the back: Does not contain giraffes.
I went to Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits on Sunrise Valley Dr. in Reston to grab some lunch on the way to work. I was informed that they were out of chicken. That's right - out of chicken. How? How does Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits run out of chicken? Coleslaw, sure. Beans, ok. But chicken? It's one of only two things on your sign! Does Burger King run out of burgers? Does McDonalds run out of Donalds? Honestly.