Every day on my company's internal web site, they feature tips and tricks of the direct marketing trade, including a marketing term of the day. Today's term is (and I am not making this up)--"Hickey."
I would tell you what it means in marketing terms but Safari cannot find the page when I click on the link. Which is too bad, because for once I am quite eager to learn the meaning of a marketing term. Who would've thought.
(By the way, this was almost as good as what happened to my brother last week, when he was online checking the status on a flight he was taking for a business trip. Suddenly he started laughing and called out, "Oh my gosh! Check this out!!" I came into the room and looked over his shoulder to see that his confirmation code--and here I must ask any of our younger readers to close their innocent eyes--was "FHUCKU." Now really, Alaska Airlines, what sort of customer service is THAT?!)
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
While I'm Driving
So I have noticed a disturbing habit that I am developing as I make this horrendous commute every day; namely, the habit of talking aloud. Obviously that would not be disturbing if there were, say, another human being in the vehicle, but as there is not, it's probably a little weird.
I have also started playing the license plate game with myself, because I've spotted quite a few out-of-state plates on my commute every day. Like today, for example, I saw Connecticut (at which point I said aloud to myself, "YEEESS!! Connecticut!" See? I told you, it's disturbing!), South Carolina, Texas, Illinois, and Florida. And that was just today! I've also spied New York, Georgia, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Nevada, and North Carolina. Fun!
Other things I see on my way to/from work:
- a cemetery.
- Mulholland Drive.
- Warner Brothers Studios (across the street from the cemetery...hmmm).
- CBS studios.
- CNN building.
-a dinosaur breaking through a roof and eating a giant clock (you don't believe me, but I don't care, it's true).
- Farmer's Market at 3rd and Fairfax (which is a Historical Landmark, since 1934! Whoa! Hey now, that's old for Cali).
- Kodak Theater, near the intersection of Hollywood and Highland (where you can also walk along the famed Walk of Fame, and look at the stars on the sidewalk, with talented people's names on them, like Britney Spears and Bugs Bunny).
Well, I suppose some might call it the scenic route, especially some who might be alot more interested in The Industry (i.e., movie biz) than I am, but there's nothing along the way that I particularly care to see. Except the dinosaur, maybe. That's kind of cool.
(You still don't believe me, but it's still true!)
I have also started playing the license plate game with myself, because I've spotted quite a few out-of-state plates on my commute every day. Like today, for example, I saw Connecticut (at which point I said aloud to myself, "YEEESS!! Connecticut!" See? I told you, it's disturbing!), South Carolina, Texas, Illinois, and Florida. And that was just today! I've also spied New York, Georgia, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Nevada, and North Carolina. Fun!
Other things I see on my way to/from work:
- a cemetery.
- Mulholland Drive.
- Warner Brothers Studios (across the street from the cemetery...hmmm).
- CBS studios.
- CNN building.
-a dinosaur breaking through a roof and eating a giant clock (you don't believe me, but I don't care, it's true).
- Farmer's Market at 3rd and Fairfax (which is a Historical Landmark, since 1934! Whoa! Hey now, that's old for Cali).
- Kodak Theater, near the intersection of Hollywood and Highland (where you can also walk along the famed Walk of Fame, and look at the stars on the sidewalk, with talented people's names on them, like Britney Spears and Bugs Bunny).
Well, I suppose some might call it the scenic route, especially some who might be alot more interested in The Industry (i.e., movie biz) than I am, but there's nothing along the way that I particularly care to see. Except the dinosaur, maybe. That's kind of cool.
(You still don't believe me, but it's still true!)
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Thinking About Church
In church today, while we were singing one of the songs, I suddenly had a flashback to my time in Thailand two years ago, and a night when I attended a worship service among Thai Christians who were jumping up and down as they sang loud praises to God, in a room with no walls. They sang in Thai, but I knew some of the songs in English, and though I knew little of any of the people around me, I felt a unity with them that made me smile.
There was a simple beauty in that moment, in that place, that I have let myself forget in the intervening time, growing disillusioned as I have with myself, my faith, and my God. I was glad for the reminder today.
I don't know why I go to church sometimes. But after remembering that moment in Thailand, I thought that maybe part of it is because I can look around and see the antidote to my pride, my arrogance, my critical judgmentalism. What is that antidote? It is...other people. Ah, they can be the poison, too, I don't deny it. But I believe in grace--ah, grace, the undeserved favor of a God who loves people regardless of whether they always love him back. And I cannot believe in grace as an abstract theory, but as a vital reality working itself out in people's lives. And so the antidote, the cure, is in knowing that if God can work miracles in me (and I pray that he does), he must be working them in the people around me--even the ones I see in church! And none of them are perfect yet, and lots of them might annoy, bore, or anger me, but perhaps I do the same to them. God knows what he forgives me for, every single day.
It's true that I still do not like "church," the formal, programmed routine with its endless join-the-club type activities that takes up Sunday mornings and various weeknights in buildings across the country, and around the world. But I don't believe that God hates it. I believe he is sorry about it, but he is able, as I rarely am, to look past the program, the imperfections, the posturings, the studied piety, and see individual hearts that are broken, weary, and struggling to be good and love him--just like mine.
I would do better to remember that more often, than to recite the critiques and grievances that are so often nothing more than the litany of my spiteful arrogance.
I am glad that God is love.
There was a simple beauty in that moment, in that place, that I have let myself forget in the intervening time, growing disillusioned as I have with myself, my faith, and my God. I was glad for the reminder today.
I don't know why I go to church sometimes. But after remembering that moment in Thailand, I thought that maybe part of it is because I can look around and see the antidote to my pride, my arrogance, my critical judgmentalism. What is that antidote? It is...other people. Ah, they can be the poison, too, I don't deny it. But I believe in grace--ah, grace, the undeserved favor of a God who loves people regardless of whether they always love him back. And I cannot believe in grace as an abstract theory, but as a vital reality working itself out in people's lives. And so the antidote, the cure, is in knowing that if God can work miracles in me (and I pray that he does), he must be working them in the people around me--even the ones I see in church! And none of them are perfect yet, and lots of them might annoy, bore, or anger me, but perhaps I do the same to them. God knows what he forgives me for, every single day.
It's true that I still do not like "church," the formal, programmed routine with its endless join-the-club type activities that takes up Sunday mornings and various weeknights in buildings across the country, and around the world. But I don't believe that God hates it. I believe he is sorry about it, but he is able, as I rarely am, to look past the program, the imperfections, the posturings, the studied piety, and see individual hearts that are broken, weary, and struggling to be good and love him--just like mine.
I would do better to remember that more often, than to recite the critiques and grievances that are so often nothing more than the litany of my spiteful arrogance.
I am glad that God is love.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Los Angeles; or, Descent into the Seventh Circle of Commuter Hell
It doesn't really matter where you are trying to get to in Los Angeles; you are bound to spend at least an hour in your car (aka the iron coffin). Ask an Angeleno, "How far away is it?" and you will get the answer in terms of minutes, not miles. If you insist on knowing the distance, all you will get is a blank stare, and some half-hearted attempts at guessing. No one ever knows distances to anything in this city, but people are remarkably good at estimating how long it will take to get there.
"You need to go to the grocery store? 45 minutes."
"But...it's just down the street..."
"It's rush hour."
"It's 3pm!"
"Rush hour is 6am-8pm."
"But...but that's all day!"
"What's your point?"
Basically, there are two rules of travel when within the environs of Los Angeles: 1) assume traffic, and 2) assume traffic will be really bad. If you do that, you will help to decrease your road rage levels just a little bit, because you won't be at all surprised when you find yourself going 0-5mph on a three-lane street or a six-lane highway. You'll do what I do; namely, put one side of your iPod headphones into one of your ears (not both, because that's definitely illegal, whereas one is only marginally so!), and sing along to music. You might also call lots of your friends. (And if you are huffing and puffing about people driving while on their cell phones, believe me, you need to experience LA traffic every single day--you'll start using your cell phone in your car too, because it's probably the only time you'll have to talk to your friends anymore. Besides, how unsafe can it be? You're only going 0mph.)
There really is so much you can do while "driving" 50 mph less than the speed limit. Over the years I've seen people reading the newspaper, shaving, brushing their teeth, etc. Maybe you'll write a book. I bet you could write a whole novel in the time it would take you to get from Pasadena to, say, Westwood on a Friday night. (You could write two if you take the 405.)
Distance and time are so out of sync in this town, they might as well get together and form a ragtime band. On Saturday night, I drove to Ventura, which is about 70 miles away from my house (and I only know that because Mapquest said so!). It took me a little over an hour, which is perfectly reasonable. Now, compare that to last night, when I left work at 6pm and it took me an hour and 20 minutes to drive to my piano teacher's house...12 miles away.
Sigh...
Oh well. Happy Friday, everybody. Here's to the weekend at last! It couldn't come fast enough for me...but that's probably because it got stuck in LA traffic.
"You need to go to the grocery store? 45 minutes."
"But...it's just down the street..."
"It's rush hour."
"It's 3pm!"
"Rush hour is 6am-8pm."
"But...but that's all day!"
"What's your point?"
Basically, there are two rules of travel when within the environs of Los Angeles: 1) assume traffic, and 2) assume traffic will be really bad. If you do that, you will help to decrease your road rage levels just a little bit, because you won't be at all surprised when you find yourself going 0-5mph on a three-lane street or a six-lane highway. You'll do what I do; namely, put one side of your iPod headphones into one of your ears (not both, because that's definitely illegal, whereas one is only marginally so!), and sing along to music. You might also call lots of your friends. (And if you are huffing and puffing about people driving while on their cell phones, believe me, you need to experience LA traffic every single day--you'll start using your cell phone in your car too, because it's probably the only time you'll have to talk to your friends anymore. Besides, how unsafe can it be? You're only going 0mph.)
There really is so much you can do while "driving" 50 mph less than the speed limit. Over the years I've seen people reading the newspaper, shaving, brushing their teeth, etc. Maybe you'll write a book. I bet you could write a whole novel in the time it would take you to get from Pasadena to, say, Westwood on a Friday night. (You could write two if you take the 405.)
Distance and time are so out of sync in this town, they might as well get together and form a ragtime band. On Saturday night, I drove to Ventura, which is about 70 miles away from my house (and I only know that because Mapquest said so!). It took me a little over an hour, which is perfectly reasonable. Now, compare that to last night, when I left work at 6pm and it took me an hour and 20 minutes to drive to my piano teacher's house...12 miles away.
Sigh...
Oh well. Happy Friday, everybody. Here's to the weekend at last! It couldn't come fast enough for me...but that's probably because it got stuck in LA traffic.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Oh for Snow!
In the lunchroom today, leafing through the LA Times, I found a special section on the upcoming snow season, and I have just two words to say:
Bring it, baby.
Oh wait, that's three. Well, now you know why I mostly flunked math all my life.
But thankfully you don't have to be good at math to be good at snowboarding, because then I'd hate it, and I just love it.
Uh, yeah. Anyway.
The last time I went snowboarding was quite memorable--well, for me; for one of the friends I went with, it wasn't, because, well, he lost his memory. I think to this day he is not quite certain if he had a good time, though I assure him that it really was an epic day, at least up until the point where we were racing down a nice long run and he took a bad fall, knocked himself in the head, got a concussion, got amnesia, had to go to ski patrol, then ride in an ambulance to the hospital, and eventually go home still not knowing who the president of the United States was or why he was in the mountains that day in the first place.
But thankfully he did indeed recover, although I think he wishes he could have enough of a relapse to forget about his hospital bill--oops.
Ah, good times on the slopes. And no doubt there will be more to come this season, though hopefully with a little less pain and suffering. Stay tuned!
Bring it, baby.
Oh wait, that's three. Well, now you know why I mostly flunked math all my life.
But thankfully you don't have to be good at math to be good at snowboarding, because then I'd hate it, and I just love it.
Uh, yeah. Anyway.
The last time I went snowboarding was quite memorable--well, for me; for one of the friends I went with, it wasn't, because, well, he lost his memory. I think to this day he is not quite certain if he had a good time, though I assure him that it really was an epic day, at least up until the point where we were racing down a nice long run and he took a bad fall, knocked himself in the head, got a concussion, got amnesia, had to go to ski patrol, then ride in an ambulance to the hospital, and eventually go home still not knowing who the president of the United States was or why he was in the mountains that day in the first place.
But thankfully he did indeed recover, although I think he wishes he could have enough of a relapse to forget about his hospital bill--oops.
Ah, good times on the slopes. And no doubt there will be more to come this season, though hopefully with a little less pain and suffering. Stay tuned!
Sunday, October 30, 2005
If You Could...
So E-rock and I were talking tonight, about time travel, and what we would do if we could go back in time. We covered a lot of ground, but not as much as we could have--I was stricken by a bad-case of not-creativeness, and could never think of who I would go to see, or what I would take, or who I would assassinate.
E-rock nearly had a fit when I said that I would take deodorant on my sojourn into history. "Deodorant!" he cried. "What about plans for an airplane?! Then you could be rich!" Oh. Hmmm, but what good is being rich if you stink? Meanwhile, for all these questions, E-rock had a wide variety of answers--often quite detailed answers. Apparently he has thought about them lots.
But finally we ended on this question, which I submit for your consideration:
If you could go back in time and dance a jig in front of anyone, who would it be?
Of course, I couldn't think of anyone, mostly because I can't imagine dancing a jig. I mean honestly, does anyone actually know what a jig looks like??? If you do, then come and dance one in front of me--so I can laugh at you, because I bet it is silly!
E-rock says he would go back in time and dance a jig in front of our mother, two months before she gives birth to him, and as he danced he would say, "You're going to have ME in a couple months!" Then POOF! he would disappear!
I have to say that I don't think this would be a terribly good plan, because he might wreck his chances of being born by causing our mother's untimely death, with a fright-induced heart attack. But hopefully we will never know!
E-rock nearly had a fit when I said that I would take deodorant on my sojourn into history. "Deodorant!" he cried. "What about plans for an airplane?! Then you could be rich!" Oh. Hmmm, but what good is being rich if you stink? Meanwhile, for all these questions, E-rock had a wide variety of answers--often quite detailed answers. Apparently he has thought about them lots.
But finally we ended on this question, which I submit for your consideration:
If you could go back in time and dance a jig in front of anyone, who would it be?
Of course, I couldn't think of anyone, mostly because I can't imagine dancing a jig. I mean honestly, does anyone actually know what a jig looks like??? If you do, then come and dance one in front of me--so I can laugh at you, because I bet it is silly!
E-rock says he would go back in time and dance a jig in front of our mother, two months before she gives birth to him, and as he danced he would say, "You're going to have ME in a couple months!" Then POOF! he would disappear!
I have to say that I don't think this would be a terribly good plan, because he might wreck his chances of being born by causing our mother's untimely death, with a fright-induced heart attack. But hopefully we will never know!
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Idiotic Ignorance
This month's copy of Discover magazine had the following letter to the editor in it, from a man whose name is not Joe:
"...I am sick of scientists tiptoeing around the topic of religion. Scientists need to make it clear that if you believe in God you are most likely an idiot or at best uneducated."
And the mouth of genius has apparently spoken! Thank you, Joe, for your edifying and enlightening remarks. I always thought that I was a pretty educated sort of person--I graduated in three and a half years from a highly competitive, private, secular liberal arts college, cum laude and with departmental honors. Yet somehow, I did, and still do, believe in God. Huh! How very strange. Well, now I know the answer--I just must be stupid! And to think I never knew!
Lots of thousands of dollars down the drain. Pity.
Why is it some people consider a belief in God as incompatible with either intelligence or learning? When science first began, it was not something separate from religion. It was not divorced from belief in the divine. If anything, those who studied it did so because they wanted to see the divine just a little bit closer--to open the window to heaven and catch, if they could, just a glimpse of the glory they saw only in shadows here on earth.
Last night I saw part of the Stephen Colbert Show, and Colbert was interviewing some scientist guy that I can't remember the name of now, who said that believing in intelligent design was "intellectually lazy." Leaving aside the question of the theory of ID as it is being presented to schools, etc., how could a scientist ever say that belief in a divine, creative mind at work in an amazingly complex, highly diversified universe is not in any way intellectually stimulating? Are you kidding me? Thinking about God makes my head hurt, lots!
But maybe that's because I'm an idiot.
Well, I digress. Getting back to Joe--the fact is, he founds his "argument" (gah, I hardly like to honor his ridiculous generalizations with the word) on nothing more than his own emotional reaction against "religious fundamentalists," whom he talks about next, saying,
"Do [scientists] think that polite silence will stop religious fundamentalists from burning copies of Harry Potter books or pushing science out of classrooms? To treat beliefs as if they mean anything merely elevates them to equal status with science."
It is difficult to follow the sophisticated logic of Joe's reasoning, mostly because there isn't any. From what I can see, the real issue is that he doesn't like the people who burn books in the name of God and want Genesis 1:1 to be the starting point for science classes. I am not quite sure how he then makes the leap to his assumption that anyone who has a belief in God must be lacking in intelligence and capability for rational thought, but I suspect that it wasn't by any sort of scientific method on Joe's part.
Look, you can peg me for insufferable arrogance if you like. That's probably true enough! But don't call me stupid, and don't tell me I am uneducated. That will only prove your own ignorance as you display your inability to carry on a meaningful, logical conversation about anything important.
And in my book, that makes you the idiot.
"...I am sick of scientists tiptoeing around the topic of religion. Scientists need to make it clear that if you believe in God you are most likely an idiot or at best uneducated."
And the mouth of genius has apparently spoken! Thank you, Joe, for your edifying and enlightening remarks. I always thought that I was a pretty educated sort of person--I graduated in three and a half years from a highly competitive, private, secular liberal arts college, cum laude and with departmental honors. Yet somehow, I did, and still do, believe in God. Huh! How very strange. Well, now I know the answer--I just must be stupid! And to think I never knew!
Lots of thousands of dollars down the drain. Pity.
Why is it some people consider a belief in God as incompatible with either intelligence or learning? When science first began, it was not something separate from religion. It was not divorced from belief in the divine. If anything, those who studied it did so because they wanted to see the divine just a little bit closer--to open the window to heaven and catch, if they could, just a glimpse of the glory they saw only in shadows here on earth.
Last night I saw part of the Stephen Colbert Show, and Colbert was interviewing some scientist guy that I can't remember the name of now, who said that believing in intelligent design was "intellectually lazy." Leaving aside the question of the theory of ID as it is being presented to schools, etc., how could a scientist ever say that belief in a divine, creative mind at work in an amazingly complex, highly diversified universe is not in any way intellectually stimulating? Are you kidding me? Thinking about God makes my head hurt, lots!
But maybe that's because I'm an idiot.
Well, I digress. Getting back to Joe--the fact is, he founds his "argument" (gah, I hardly like to honor his ridiculous generalizations with the word) on nothing more than his own emotional reaction against "religious fundamentalists," whom he talks about next, saying,
"Do [scientists] think that polite silence will stop religious fundamentalists from burning copies of Harry Potter books or pushing science out of classrooms? To treat beliefs as if they mean anything merely elevates them to equal status with science."
It is difficult to follow the sophisticated logic of Joe's reasoning, mostly because there isn't any. From what I can see, the real issue is that he doesn't like the people who burn books in the name of God and want Genesis 1:1 to be the starting point for science classes. I am not quite sure how he then makes the leap to his assumption that anyone who has a belief in God must be lacking in intelligence and capability for rational thought, but I suspect that it wasn't by any sort of scientific method on Joe's part.
Look, you can peg me for insufferable arrogance if you like. That's probably true enough! But don't call me stupid, and don't tell me I am uneducated. That will only prove your own ignorance as you display your inability to carry on a meaningful, logical conversation about anything important.
And in my book, that makes you the idiot.
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