We've all gotten the email - some prince in Nigeria needs your help to move millions of dollars around and if you send $100 here and $1000 there you get it back a thousand fold. This king of all internet scams is so unbelievable it's been poked fun at a thousand times - even Saturday Night Live has referenced it a couple of times (most recently Anne Hathaway joked: "I found this amazing new guy, we met on the internet. I usually don't read letters from strangers, but how often do you get an email from a Nigerian Prince? He's such a sweetheart, and - not that it matters - but he's incredibly wealthy.")
That's funny and all, but consider this: the scam is still out there for a reason, and that reason is that there are actually people still falling for it.
For example, Janella Spears from Sweet Home, Oregon recently "went public" with her experiences - a story that ultimately ends with the nursing administrator and reverend investing over $400,000 into the fictitious deal.
$400,000. That's almost half a million dollars she shipped away, and not all in one payment, mind you. This was a total achieved over two years of scammage, and all of it seems gone for good (which, by the way, begs the question - where did it go?).
I've been a member of the Blockbuster Total Access movies-by-mail program ever since its inception. The deal seemed too good to be true - at prices comparable to those of Netflix you get movies by mail and then get to return them to a store and swap for other movies while you're waiting for the next ones to come in. They even gave you a bonus movie or game rental each month.
It turns out the deal was too good to be true, I found out after a short time. Blockbuster has upped its prices for the program for the second time (what used to be $18.89 is now $34.99, minus some perks), and it's a service no longer worth paying for at all, particularly in light of Netflix and the new iTunes movie rental service. Maybe Blockbuster was taking too much of a hit with the old prices, maybe they're trying to capitalize on the lack of TV shows thanks to the writers' strike...I don't know.
What I do know is that Blockbuster is a model of extremely poor customer service, and I'm notthe onlyone whothinks so. I received an email informing me that their packages were changing and was brought to a page where I could select which plan I wanted to upgrade to, if any. I went through the process 4 times with 2 different browsers, and yet my plan info still reflected no change. Giving them the benefit of the doubt, I sent a nice email "making sure" my plans to continue purchasing their product registered somewhere. I got back no response. I tried a second email, this time mentioning how I hadn't received any DVDs for over half a month. I got a response that told me to make sure my queue had at least 50 selections in it (which it did), and no semblance of a response to the subscription inquiry.
For my third attempt I tried the hardline approach, and pointed out how I felt cheated that I hadn't gotten any movies for almost 3 weeks and that I expected some kind of compensation. I got a coupon for a free rental.
What they're getting is a cancellation of service starting tomorrow and this gleaming review of their service sent out to everyone I know.
UPDATE 1.18.08: This short article at Paris Lemon basically says that Blockbuster's stock is plummeting...and I couldn't be happier.
To our immediate friends and family, it's no secret that TLM and I are engaged to be married. We want to do the right things at the right times, and we told people like my parents the next day or as soon as we could. There is of course the traditional and more formal announcement, complete with an engagement picture, usually published in a local newspaper.
Now I'm trying to be as educated a groom-to-be as I can (I'm even reading books like "The Everything Groom Book" to prove it) and I know that this initial engagement announcement is a big deal. How we look in the picture has to be just right, the details about who we are and what we do should be honest and modest, and the timing of when it gets printed is important...a rule of thumb is 3 to 4 months before the wedding.
(Before I continue...no, we haven't set a date yet. I can tell you it will be a lot more than 3 or 4 months away.)
In step the Red Sox. They win the World Series, and TLM and I go out the next day to buy commemorative shirts and hats, remembering what a challenge they were to find in 2004. As we're shuffling around our local Sports Authority, apparel in hand, a soft-spoken man with glasses stops us, mumbles something as he takes out a notepad, and starts asking me questions. I thought he worked for the store and was worried we were going to make off with the goods (why that was my first reaction is telling...), so I gladly supplied him some answers with a smile. He asked my name, where I lived, why I was there, and then he asked the same of TLM.
It was after the fourth or fifth question that I realized he may not be affiliated with the store at all, and asked him if he was an employee there. It turns out he was a reporter from the Patriot Ledger, and was there to cover...you guessed it...people buying Red Sox World Series stuff. We even had some photos taken of us holding up our new shirts.
In retrospect I don't even remember mentioning that TLM was my fiancée (though I am not surprised seeing as how proud I am of the fact), though surely enough that fact was made clear in the next day's paper as TLM and I were the first people quoted and featured in an article about the scene at the store.
So the question is: does this count as an engagement announcement, albeit an indirect one?
TLM says no, and so do I...I mean, they didn't even print our picture.
Today is Evoloterra. This is an interesting holiday in that it celebrates "human achievement in general", and its date commemorates the anniversary of the first manned landing on the moon. We have all heard those famous words uttered by Neil Armstrong upon his first descent down onto the lunar surface, and I wouldn't be surprised if it were in the top 5 U.S. quotes of all time (though I read he flubbed it a little bit, and actually meant to include an "a" before "man").
I like the idea of encouraging invention and innovation and putting its pursuit in a good light, without a doubt. Having said that, as I looked around for content on the subject, I came upon a lot of stuff on the "moon landing hoax". Now, I love conspiracy theories and I'd heard of this one before (remember Carl Everett's interviews with Dan Shaughnessy? He didn't believe in dinosaurs either.), and as I dug deeper I found lots of articles and vids on the subject. The vids in particular were captivating, and though many were obviously done in jest, some were seriously trying to present a case where NASA, the U.S. Government, and Stanley Kubrick, among others, conspired to film a sequence in a studio that would convince the people of the U.S. (and the world) that men had landed and were walking on the moon. Some approach the topic in "documentary" form, like one I found on YouTube (in pieces) called "Moon Landing: A Fake or Fact?". Others try to prove the hoax by showing inconsistencies or mistakes in the footage, like being able to "see the wires" in the clip below.
Whether these guys really did land on the moon or not, one thing is true: some of the "human achievements" we can celebrate today are those in the realm of imagination, skepticism and doubt.
When I was a kid out shopping with my mother at a store a toy section, I would always ask her for a Transformer. "No", she would always reply, followed by an excuse like "that's too expensive for a toy" or "I just got you a He-Man" or "I am philosophically opposed to toys that can change shape". Ok, I made that last one up, but after a few Christmases and birthdays of Go-Bot pacification, I promised myself that when I was old enough, I would buy all the Transformers I wanted to.
Well, with the super-CGI Transformers movie about to hit screens, Hasbro has released their new series of the popular toys....and I made good on my promise, as showcased below. I even got the Optimus Prime, Mom, and it cost me over $40. Ha.
Wait...is that too expensive for a toy (for a 31 year old man)?
Thanks to "s" from TMT, The Lovely Mary and I were able to enjoy a four-course meal at the new Capital Grille in Burlington as part of a preview dinner benefit for Neurofibromatosis, Inc. and the Doug Flutie Jr. Foundation for Autism. There were a lot of Patriots players there last night, including Ellis Hobbs (who TLM claims is "tiny" and smaller than I am), and I heard the night before featured all-time Red Sox player Dwight Evans and former Patriots Russ Francis and Ronnie Lippett. There was a silent auction in another room with various types of sports memorabilia (the starting bids for which were extremely high) raising I hope a large amount of money for the foundations.
The atmosphere and people (and open bar) were not the only stories of the night, however, for never is there a trip to a Capital Grille that doesn't involve incredibly well-prepared food.
We started the night off at the bar with some fried calamari and a couple of Ciroc and tonics. After being seated in front of a rather large portrait of Johnny Most (a personal hero) and about 10 feet away from the chef's table packed with Patriots, we were treated to a variety of breads with butter and our second course: a caesar salad for me and onion soup for her.
For the main course, both TLM and I had 14 oz. dry aged sirloins, though mine was prepared au poive (a new favorite) and served with a Courvoisier cream sauce. I don't think I can do proper justice in words to the excellence the taste of this steak demanded. I recommend it to anyone, nay, everyone as a must-have meal.
To finish the meal, TLM and I split a delicious crème brûlée, the first time I'd ever had (or seen) the dessert. This, of course, was the proverbial icing on the cake of a truly "capital" evening.
At any given time in Vegas you're liable to run into a celebrity. The Lovely Mary (TLM) and I were no exception this trip as we ran into no less than 5 famous people. Ok, ok, so they aren't exactly superstars or household names (as a matter of fact I didn't even know most of their names at the times we saw them), but their sightings prompted a "hey, there's that guy", or a "wasn't he in that commercial?", or at least a "look, it's [enter wrong name here]", so they must be somewhere between lists D and Z, right?
It all started off last Saturday night at the Mandalay Bay when we found ourselves wandering through bullriding fanatics and fight lovers when out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman parading a blond wig and a loud, tawdry, and very revealing dress through the crowd. It took only a glimpse of her face (yes, that's what I was looking at!) to recognize her as "Hottie" (real name Schatar Sapphira Taylor) from the first season of VH1's "Flavor of Love". She was the one who tried to cook a chicken in the microwave for Flav's mom and later got dismissed for having been exposed as an actress (and I use the term extremely loosely). I pointed her out to TLM, who acknowledged her identity with a simple "bleh", and when the encounter came up later in conversation, she described "Hottie" simply as "Dasty" (dirty+nasty)...'nuff said.
The next night TLM and I went to check out the Fashion Show Mall (guess which one of us found that place) and we stopped afterwards to have some tapas at a place called Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba. We were just finishing off a beef empanada, some chicken and ham croquettes, and some very tasty sangria when I looked over and saw a tall, long haired man eating with a his jet black cowboy hat placed delicately in the seat to his left and a short-haired blond placed on the one to his right. I knew he looked familiar, and soon realized he was one of those professional poker players I'd seen on ESPN. In fact, he was probably the only one I'd even be able to recognize at all, and he had one of those catchy nicknames, too...in this case, "Jesus". It wasn't until we spoke to one of TLM's coworkers later that night that we learned his name is Chris Ferguson, and besides being good at poker another of his claims to fame is that he can pitch a playing card through a carrot. I guess we all gotta be good at something, eh?
During one of our jaunts down the strip, we were passing through the Luxor's casino when TLM noticed a crowd gathering near the hotel's entrance, so we walked over to take a look. People seemed really excited, so we assumed it was someone big. Eh, not so much, but at least it was someone whose actual name we knew: Criss Angel (yeah, he spells it that way) who's a close-up illusionist and has a pretty entertaining show on A&E I've seen a few times called Mindfreak. We asked around and got an unusually large amount of information about the event from these two middle-aged women who could hardly contain themselves (who knew this guy commanded such unabashed fanaticism?). Anyway, they told us he was moving his base of operations to the Luxor (from where, who knows) and that the event was the official welcoming ceremony. We were also told that he was going to perform an illusion to be taped for season 3 of his show in the cordoned off area we were standing right next to. Well, after waiting for about half an hour and being prompted by some producers to cheer for the cameras a few times, he finally makes his way into the hotel, stops to thank the people for being so supportive, turns around, and leaves. Now that's what I call tricking people.
The quickest psuedo-celebrity sighting I had was Greg Proops, who has had guest appearances on all kinds of shows and is probably best known for his improv work on "Who's Line is it Anyway?", though I remember him from a short-lived favorite show of mine on Comedy Central called "Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn" (unfortunately, Colin Quinn's modus operandi of "laugh at me and not with me" is what killed it). Anyway, he walked briskly by me in the Mandalay Bay casino looking pretty desheveled, and I got the sense he either just lost a lot of money at some table or bombed on stage. My theory is that all comedians (and magicians for that matter) are inherently depressed, so maybe that's just how he always looks when not on stage or on camera.
Last, and maybe least, we were on our plane home and I looked across to see this guy sleeping, facing me (so I could get a nice view of his open mouth and maybe a little drool). I noticed the emblem on his hat said "Mike the Mouth" and had some playing cards on it, and that rang a distant bell with me. Later in the flight, I overheard him identifying himself to the guy next to him as a professional poker player, and in fact he was Mike Matusow, not surprisingly also known as "Mike the Mouth" (modesty gets you everywhere, including flying coach). I didn't talk to him much, but did find out he was on his way to Foxwoods for a tournament. What I should have asked was what "professional poker player" meant. Does he get sponsored to play or has he just won enough poker tournaments to have earned the title? Either way, I reserve the right to hate on him for playing cards for a living. Besides, he had a fanny pack...
Last night The Lovely Mary and I went to our first show, modestly titled "The World's Greatest Magic Show", in one of the more remote hotels on (well, sorta on) the strip, the Greek Isles. The theater was small, and the ushers were all shady throwbacks from Vegas days gone by. We bought "preferred" seats which turned out to be chairs at tables we shared with other people. But, for another $20, the grizzled usher could "take care of us" and seat us in a private booth a whole 5 feet closer. Ah, Vegas.
The actual show was amazing, truly, and I happen to love magic shows. (BTW, thx to The Lovely Mary for agreeing to it!) The MC of the event was a comedian/magician named Kozak who was great with the traditional slight of hand and even better handling the crowd. The highlights for me were specifically two illusions. One was when Dan Sperry seemed to rip a bird into two birds (which Bugman and I had seen once on TV and were both amazed), and another was when Kevin James (no, not "The King of Queens") sat out right in the middle of the audience with a young girl volunteer, took a napkin, scrunched it up, then appeared to make it flutter and fly and levitate, etc. In person, this was impressive, believe me. He had another trick, though, that was sort of disturbing, as he pretended to cut a man in half, then had the top half of the man walk around on his hands "magically". This was obviously someone with no legs or lower torso (who I found out later was born that way), and though it didn't make me upset, it didn't really entertain me, either.
Anyway, I got re-excited about illusions and The Lovely Mary even bought me a trick from the Houdini store. As if there wasn't enough magic between us....
The Lovely Mary has a conference this week in good ol' Las Vegas, and so I took the week off to tag along. We left this morning, and as I looked across the aisle at a woman reading "Slots Today" ($1.95 an issue, I kid you not), I thought of the last time I'd been to the Sin City. What happened in Vegas wasn't the only thing that stayed there; a good amount of my money did too. Though I was temporarily distracted by an in-flight showing of "You, Me and Dupree" (which turned out to be a not so bad movie at all, if not a little long), I eventually got back to thinking about how much fun we were going to have, and how most of it was to not actually involve blackjack tables.
Soon we arrived and got off the plane. Ah, it had been a while. A while since I'd heard that constant drone, that electronic dissonance that was so characteristic of the city into which we'd just arrived. All we could hear was the beeping and chirping of slot machines...and we hadn't been off the plane but five minutes. We were surrounded by flashing lights, huge LCD ads for shows, and lots and lots of tourists (yeah, I know, we are too...but just way cooler).
We jumped in a cab, and once the driver heard where we were staying, the Mandalay Bay, he says something like "Do your parents know you're staying there?", implying at least two things: something potentially scandalous is going on over there and my parents somehow shouldn't know about it. Well, if there was something scandalous over there, they probably shouldn't, but hey...
It turns out tonight is the big Mayweather - Baldomir fight at our hotel. Promo material for this thing was everywhere, from billboards to spotlights to a specially made fight promotion carpet laid out at the entrance. We expected the place to be mobbed...then we find out the hotel is also hosting the Professional Bull Riders World Finals too. Ah, boxing enthusiasts and tons of people in cowboy hats and chaps...together at last.
Well, when all was said and done, the Lovely Mary and I successfully avoided all the hoopla from both events and went to the Shark Reef attraction (which was kickass). We'll find out who won the fight tomorrow.
Well...it's been a while, partly because of work, partly because of baseball, and more recently because of vacation to:
MIAMI
That's right, the land of Vice squads, tatoos, all-time Will Smith videos, and of course, South Beach. The Lovely Mary and I shot down for five days and stayed in the Bal Harbor Sheraton, a full-fledged resort right on the beach complete with hot tubs, waterfalls, spas, and my personal favorite: a lagoon-type pool. Sadly, this place is slated to be torn down in February in favor of a more luxurious (and thusly profitable) alternative: a St. Regis. That's probably why we got the deal we got, so I'm not complaining.
A good time was had by all, and as is usually the case with vacations, it was over before we wanted it to be, so we decided that from now on we would institute a 6-day minimum for trips. The food was great, the sights were memorable, and the goal of relaxing and getting away from it all was achieved. Some highlights:
The hotel was amazing and definitely the most resort-ish place I've visited. The number one thing I loved was the pool and we spent a good amount of time by it and in it. The first day there weren't many people there, making for lots of room and a relaxing day for everyone, as opposed to the last day we went out there (a Saturday), where it was tough to fins a spot and people were annoyed (and even more annoying). At one point we went in for a dip and I watched another family (father, daughter, son, dad's new girlfriend) go over to our spot and steal our umbrella pin (for the record, we decided to limit our response to 10 or 12 minutes of dirty looks, in the name of vacation). Come to think of it, someone stole our "Do Not Disturb" sign, too. Damn tourists...
Across from the hotel were the Bal Harbour Shops, and I get the feeling that it was no coincidence we were booked to stay next to a mall that featured such stores as Prada, Armani, Fendi, Gucci, Pucci, Louis Vuitton, Saks, and Tiffany. The place was definitely worth a look, and had lots of scupltures, Koi, fountains and waterfalls, and lots and lots of hanging flora, giving it a Babylon-ish appeal. Unfortunately, all we could really afford to buy there was food!
Every restaurant we went to was excellent. We enjoyed delicious Italian food at a place called Speggio, ate burgers and chicken next to a fish tank at Flanigan's, and dined in a fine bistro in the middle of the Bal Harbour Shops, to name a few. The fact that I even enjoyed a side of broccoli is testament to just how tasty this food was. Mmmm....broccoli....
As we have a propensity for watching almost any kind of reality show, we found a new one called Cash Cab (on the Discovery Channel somehow) and I'm not ashamed to admit we watched it every day we were there. Why can't I be the guy who jumps into a cab and suddenly find myself on a mobile trivia game show?
The South Beach scene lived up to expectations. The sand was fine, the water clear and tepid, and though there were a considerable number of college types there, it was still very enjoyable. It was without question the biggest beach I'd ever been on, and not surprisingly the most beachgoers I'd ever seen too. The lifeguards wore red swimsuits and were constantly shouting angrily at swimmers and jetskiers, making it seem like we were in a bad episode of Baywatch (did I just admit to watching that?). We even had a nice walk on the beach, stopping occasionally to let our bare feet disappear in the sand. Ah, can it get any more romantic? Well, probably, but it was still nice.
While down near South Beach we also windowshopped and walked along the famous Lincoln Road pedestrian mall, stopping to enjoy a bite to eat under a fan blowing mist on us, which was particularly nice due to the humidity. We strolled down Ocean Drive too, even visiting the modelling agency featured in MTV's "8th and Ocean" (it wasn't hard to remember the address...).
On our last full day there, poolside at the resort was entirely too crowded, so we rented a 2-person cabana on the beach and spent the day there lounging, reading, napping, and taking dips in the Atalntic. Swimming in the ocean is something I haven't done in years, and I was soon reintroduced to that old familiar salt-water taste in my mouth. There was a reef not too far out and the waves were strong and really breaking. While emerging from the water the first time I went in, I unintentionally provided comic relief for anyone who could see as I was knocked over a couple of times by the tide, naturally trying to play it off like I intended to be suddenly sitting on my ass...
All in all, you don't need me (or Will Smith) to tell you that Miami is kickass.....but I will anyway. We had a phenomenal time, and Miami is on our list of places to get back to someday, without a doubt.
Imagine a global society in the future where technology has advanced enough to produce a viable, universal translater. Everyone around the world can communicate with each other without having to learn any kind of new language thanks to two small implants, one that acts as a broadcaster and the other as a receiver. Whatever a person is saying gets transmitted out and then picked up by whomever is in earshot (which of course could span miles!) and subsequently translated into a language the person who is "listening" can understand. Sounds great, eh? What kinds of consequences could such a technology have?
In this futuristic society, the transmitting part of the technology depends on reading the muscular movements of the speaker alone, and no actual sound is required. Over time, as the popularity and availability of the implants increased, people became so dependant on them and got them at such an early age, the need for actually producing sounds diminished. Many people never even developed their vocal chords, as they never had any use for them in their life whatsoever. Communication had become almost strictly technological, and the transmitter could be easily fine-tuned to broadcast to a wider range, or even limited to an individual (their form of whispering)...even stereos and televisions (or, more appropriately, their future counterparts) transmitted sounds without sound in every language. Though none spoke, however, many people had become pretty good at whistling.
As strange as it sounds to us, this future world had an incredible international scene, thanks in no small part to the universal translator. Once people from different parts of the world could understand each other, a remarkable and unexpected thing happened: they resolved most differences and figured out how to get along. Commerce, technology, government, education, medicine, and the collective knowledge base of our planet increased exponentially. From the point of view of an alien, things seemed well in the world.
The domestic scene, however, was far from ideal. There developed a great rift between the haves and the have-nots, moreso than ever in history, due ironically to a lack of communication. Those who couldn't afford the implants were pushed lower and lower in class, until they were eventually shuffled under the rug by the powers that would be. As one may have predicted, it was only a matter of time before these surpressed peoples, or "talkies", as they were called, began to organize and revolt. They used crude weapons and guerilla strategies that revolved around high-pitched sounds, exploiting a weakness their enemy developed through sustained use of their "precious technology". Unfortunately, the universal translator did not speak Pissed Off Lower Class.
Well, as fantastic (and wildy fictional) as this may sound, the aforementioned technology is already making an appearance in a primitive form. Read on:
So Mary and I go to Six Flags New England yesterday as part of her birthday weekend. With the exception of the overpriced food ($7 for a slice of cheese pizza), I knew it was going to be a good time; I completely revert to adolescence when it comes to things like amusement parks. The Scrambler, frisbee rides, waterslides, and of course roller coasters...many many roller coasters. In fact there were more there yesterday than I ever remember; something like 7 or 8. We got there and knew we wanted to hit up each one of them.
Things were going well; the weather was perfect and the park wasn't too crowded (thanks to something called "The Big E"). We went on a couple of coasters right away, including "Superman", the biggest and longest coaster in the country, which I had been on but Mary hadn't. Then we move over to one of my favorites, the "Mind Eraser".
Much like the drink by the same name, this coaster has been known to scramble one's brains and cross one's eyes (minus the straw). This coaster has it all...twists, turns, loop-dee-loops, and a whole lotta jerking around and not knowing where the ride will take you next. Even though I'd been on it multiple times, it never gets old and I'm always thrilled. This time, however, I got more of a scare than I bargained for.
You sit down in a seat suspended from above and with your feet dangling, and like any ride that involves high speeds and upside-down sections, there is a pressure-controlled safety harness that comes down over your shoulders. After a very long wait in line, Mary and I hop into our seats, and then one of the attendants made his rounds ensuring everyone was securely "buckled in". This guy gives my harness an extra push, shoving it in one click further than I was able to, giving Mary a small chuckle and me a small reminder that there are certain parts of my body that one shouldn't put too much pressure on. "I don't want you falling out, now." she smiled, and while I appreciated the concern, I definitely scoffed at the idea of that happening...
The ride started, and as soon as we entered the first loop, I heard a "click" and felt the harness release a notch...
My hands grabbed the handles on the harness faster than I could think of what to do. I imagined for a moment the worst case scenario, then thought it must have been that extra push the attendant gave. Maybe he didn't fully get to the next notch?
As we finished the first loop and went into a twist, it happened again: another "click" and another degree of safety gone...
At this point I clamped my legs underneath the seat and thought of all the movie and TV scenes I'd seen of roller coasters gone wrong. The one that stuck out in my mind (don't ask why I remembered THIS at THAT time) was one of the opening scenes from the remake of "House on Haunted Hill" where a roller coaster goes flying of the rail and into the air, sending all the riders to certain death.
I tried to remember if there was another safety measure: a seat belt, metal pin...something. Needless to say, I was as tense as a stone. As the roller coaster ride of my life went on, I tried to come up with a plan in case the harness came loose. Was I to hold onto the handles as best I could? Reach out and try to grab the seat in front of me? Let go and take my chances with the fall?
Finally the ride came to an end. As macho as I may portend to be, I realized I was genuinely scared. That shit was f#!&@ scary.
I told Mary about what just happened to me, and she agreed it would be wise to let someone know. So, after everyone got off and shuffled away down the exit ramp, I pulled one of the attendants aside and in a low voice, so as not to alarm anyone, informed him of what transpired and what seat I was in. As we walked off, I saw that attendant go over and tell the operator, then watched as that operator subsequently told everyone to get off the ride. They spent the next 20 minutes or so examining the seats, then ran the ride once with one of the attendants in the seat in question, guinea-pig stylee (that makes sense!).
As Mary and I walked away from the scene and I related to her more of what I'd just experienced, she turned to me and said the best thing I'd heard all day:
Wow. I wasn't in the country for the blizzard of 78, but I've heard all the stories from family and neighbors. I'll tell you what though, there was a HELL of a lot of snow here a couple of days ago. I just saw a story on the local news about a guy who attacked somebody on Beacon Hill over a parking space. I can't imagine what kind of bloodshed there was in ol' East Boston because of "throwing snow on my property" or "messing up my pile" or the most traditional "I'm reserving these five spaces". See the "space wars" post for more...
There isn't a place to put it all. Out here there is a constant pile of snow 3 feet high along all the roads and sidewalks. Some of the drifts the morning of the blizzard were higher than I was (I speak of my height, of course). I must admit, though, it wasn't devastating around here, particularly since the snow was somewhat light and easy to move, at least that morning. It just kept snowing and snowing and snowing. Fluffy, but ample. It was the drifts that had the biggest effect. The Cape, on the other hand, got absolutely slammed.
Then there are those people who for one reason or another just don't know how to deal with snow. When I stepped out Sunday morning, there was this guy with his hazards on blocking the entrance to my complex. It was obvious he was very stuck. I recruited a neighbor and we went over to help. It turned out this guy was Brazilian, new to the country, and driving an extremely light car, complete with balded tires. Great. After an hour, we got him back out onto the road, and into one of the few plowed lots nearby. Since the blizzard was raging strong, I got a good amount of snow stuck to every hair on my face....and I had the great idea of trying to grow a full beard...
Looks like we'll have 7-10 more inches tonight, though it's negligible relative to Sunday. Eh, I have my space...
In the midst of one of the worst natural disasters in modern history, it's interesting that people in various parts of Boston are getting so heated over Mayor Menino's decision to deal with the "space wars" once and for all. Even a city councilor challeged the Mayor...is it a surprise he's from South Boston, where the tendency is to hate all people NOT from Southie?
This is ridiculous. I have spent my entire life in Boston, mostly East Boston, and have always been one to save a sholveled space, mostly because if I didn't I'd be walking home from at least 6 blocks away.
The problem here isn't the morals of saving spaces, but rather the fact that it is legally unregulated. The penalty for not abiding by the system isn't a fine or anything, it's vandalism and violence. There is also no legal way of making sure people do not abuse the system either (as if the sytem isn't subjective in the first place!).
Last winter, I came home from work early as there was a snowstorm coming and I wanted to get a space on my block. When I arrived, I found this one family reserving 4 SPACES, all before a single flake had hit the ground. Since there was nowhere else to park, I promptly proceeded to move a cone, park in a space, then remove all the other space reservers to the sidewalk. I returned the following morning to find my car had been keyed from front to back, had 2 tires slashed, and a dent kicked into the door.
What was I supposed to do, petition my neighbors to be more neighborly? The fact of the matter is the way people in some parts of Boston deal with parking spaces before, during, or after snowstorms has gotten way out of hand. Menino is right to try to do something...I think its wrong to abide by the rules of criminals.
Where to begin? A while back I was talking with a certain limo driver friend of mine and he told me about some guy to whom he was boasting about his limo service. Apparently, some ridiculous offer was made (I think J was shitfaced at the time) where a limo was promised for a drastically reduced price. Needless to say the guy calls J the next day, and not only does he want to take J up on his offer, he wants to use the limo in a video shoot...a porn video.
So here's where I come in (maybe not in the way you think, hehehe). Because J had decided to do the job (for a more reasonable price) but was not exactly fully informed about the situation, he asked me if I wouldn't mind coming along. Or maybe he just thought I'd enjoy it. Whatever the case, I agreed to come along.
So out of the blue today I get a call at work around 4. It was J telling me that "tonight was the night" and he was to pick up the guy at 5:30. He also said he was en route to pick me up first, and "there were no ifs ands or buts about it". Nothing like short notice. "All I care about is gettin the money," he said, "everything else'll be fine."
After he got me, we went to pick up the guy, who was introduced to me as Khareem. J asked him if we needed to stop at an ATM, at which point Khareem informed him that "dude" had the money. Sorry J. We stopped at a packie for some, ah, alocoholic encouragement, then were off to pick up "some chick" (Khareem's words). She turned out to be a pretty attractive black woman, complete with stilettos and what appeared to be fishnet stockings (I could only see so much glancing at the side mirrors of the car). I turned to J and said , "Hope it's warm enough back there for her"...strictly out of concern for her well-being, of course.
And for a fleeting moment I thought I saw a kid get into the limo.
So then we were off, to where neither J nor I had any idea. Sitting shotgun, I took on the role of navigator and recieved short bursts of vague directions from Khareem as we drove aimlessly into the night. After a short while we found ourselves in Dorchester, and I commented to J in passing about how I used to work at a high school close by. Imagine my surprise when Khareem instructed us to pull into that very same school's parking lot, which I could already see was full of cars and people. I don't know whether J was oblivious to this or simply didn't hear the directions, but he blew right by the entrance. This was a minor relief to me, as I didn't really want to be part of a porno shoot on school grounds, never mind be recognized by someone I knew.
At this point I heard J muttering something about some a-hole behind him, then something about how he thought we were being followed. Great. Things were getting shady, and it wasn't because the sun went down.
"Aight, aight", Khareem mumbled, "I gotchu. I think there's anotha lot, ah, over there...nome sayin?". Amateur hour, anyone? We drove a couple blocks until Khareem reached over, tugged J on the shirt, and got him to pull off a crazy maneuver into some empty lot off the side of the road. We went in as far as we could go until we were in front of a padlocked chain link gate, only to realize that several cars were parking behind us, blocking us in. Before I had a chance to voice my reservations, J came out with "There have GOT to be easier ways to steal a limo". Whatever...what's the worst that could happen, right?
As the slamming shut of doors could be heard behind us, I checked out the side view mirror to see just who it was we were dealing with. Luckily, before J had a chance to gun the limo through the gate (you never know with him), I pointed out the small crowd of HOT CHICKS filing up to the car. Nice. J also seemed excited, though I'm not sure whether it was because of the chicks or becuase he was finally about to get the money. I just needed to get a "closer look".
I went back to greet our guests, and saw three alterna-teenish guys, apparently the crew, as well as four girls, who I assumed were the cast. Problem was, a few of them not only looked pretty but also looked pretty damn underage. To make matters worse, my earlier suspicions were confirmed when as I watching the girls pile into the limo I saw a kid no more than 11 or 12 hanging out inside. Wonderful. Might as well have stayed at the high school parking lot.
As the crew set up, one of them came over and introduced himself as James. This guy was definitely running the show, and looked the part of porno-producer to a tee. He asked about power supplies, and before I knew it I was back in the passenger seat leading a wire out the window. When all was said and done it was rigged such that I wasn't going anywhere. Argh.
J got back in with a clipboard in his hand and a smile on his face. "All paid up," he said, "now we wait." I told him about James and pointed out the wire, to which he could only respond, "Guess that means our man here (Khareem) is the talent!" As I started to ask him about the clipboard, which turned out to be a release for him to sign, I noticed a car pull up into the driveway of a house just past the fence. A middle-aged woman and a young boy got out, groceries in hand, and I swear the woman glanced over with a scowl. I couldn't help but wonder if she somehow knew what we were up to. She unloaded the rest of her car, then got back in and drove off. "Hope she doesn't come back for a while" J offered. I couldn't have agreed more.
While J was contemplating whether or not to use his real name and info on the realease, I had to point out a few things. "Number one - with all those lights they got in there, people can see right in. Number two - some of those girls look VERY underage. Number three - there's a little kid back there." No sooner had I finished than I heard a tap on the window. Cops?
No...just a hot blonde all bundled up in a fur-lined flesh colored jacket, asking us for, of all things, windex. Windex? I know it's generally all-purpose, but let's be reasonable...what is this, My Big Fat Greek Limo Orgy? "What...the money shot already?" J joked after she left. Ah, no. It's just not up to adult film standards of cleanliness back there, J.
Music started playing, and the limo started rocking. Here we go, I thought. The divider was up so we couldn't see what was going on, though J was trying his damndest to sneak a peek. Finally he just got out of the cab and stood outside. I waited until I heard the director say "cut", then quickly made my escape across the driver's side door. J must've seen my look of disapproval and said "There's nothing going on, they're just shooting the intro or something." I could see Khareem alone, back against the divider inside, lip-synching the lyrics to the song that was playing and boppin around. It was almost as if he were in a.......rap video!
"J, you sure this is a porn shoot?" "Yeah...I mean..." "Did anyone ever actually say the word 'porn' to you?" "Yeah...well...no. No, I don't....you know, I don't think so." "cuz this looks an awful lot like a music video shoot to me..." "nooo" "yeaaah" "noooooooo" "yes, man"
So, with a new perspective on the situation, we sat and watched Khareem and the gang go through a few more takes of the song, and though we went home with no stories of limo-laden debauchery, we did go home with a good laugh and an untarnished conscience.
Content found on The Neoteric is of no particular genre, topic, or focus, other than it was all at some point, in some way, interesting enough to me to write about.
It all started off last Saturday night at the 
The next night TLM and I went to check out the 
During one of our jaunts down the strip, we were passing through the 
The quickest psuedo-celebrity sighting I had was 
Last, and maybe least, we were on our plane home and I looked across to see this guy sleeping, facing me (so I could get a nice view of his open mouth and maybe a little drool). I noticed the emblem on his hat said "Mike the Mouth" and had some playing cards on it, and that rang a distant bell with me. Later in the flight, I overheard him identifying himself to the guy next to him as a professional poker player, and in fact he was 
We jumped in a cab, and once the driver heard where we were staying, the 
Wow. I wasn't in the country for the blizzard of 78, but I've heard all the stories from family and neighbors. I'll tell you what though, there was a HELL of a lot of snow here a couple of days ago. I just saw a story on the local news about a guy who attacked somebody on Beacon Hill over a parking space. I can't imagine what kind of bloodshed there was in ol' East Boston because of "throwing snow on my property" or "messing up my pile" or the most traditional "I'm reserving these five spaces". See the 
There isn't a place to put it all. Out here there is a constant pile of snow 3 feet high along all the roads and sidewalks. Some of the drifts the morning of the blizzard were higher than I was (I speak of my height, of course). I must admit, though, it wasn't devastating around here, particularly since the snow was somewhat light and easy to move, at least that morning. It just kept snowing and snowing and snowing. Fluffy, but ample. It was the drifts that had the biggest effect. The Cape, on the other hand, got absolutely slammed.
Then there are those people who for one reason or another just don't know how to deal with snow. When I stepped out Sunday morning, there was this guy with his hazards on blocking the entrance to my complex. It was obvious he was very stuck. I recruited a neighbor and we went over to help. It turned out this guy was Brazilian, new to the country, and driving an extremely light car, complete with balded tires. Great. After an hour, we got him back out onto the road, and into one of the few plowed lots nearby. Since the blizzard was raging strong, I got a good amount of snow stuck to every hair on my face....and I had the great idea of trying to grow a full beard...
In the midst of one of the worst natural disasters in modern history, it's interesting that people in various parts of Boston are getting so 
