Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Words on a Blog

The internet is flying with rumors that New Line Cinema is gearing up for some emergency reshoots for their August-planned blockbuster thriller simply called “Snakes on a Plane.” Featuring Samuel L. Jackson as the hero, this movie had signed up the minute he heard the movie’s title. I like that about Jackson. It’s a ridiculous premise, and will do little to improve his track record after Freedomland and the Eugene Levy flick “The Man,” but you gotta love that moxie. He’s entering Christopher Walken territory, methinks.

Reportedly, the movie was being touted as a PG-13 flick, but the internet’s vested interest has allowed New Line to green light cash to throw in some R scenes. Now IMDB’s News team can’t hold a candle to YABNews, but we had to laugh with this line closing this morning’s report: The film-makers have reportedly added more gore, more deaths, more nudity and more snakes to the finished product.

Who’s doing the news over there? Dennis Miller?

Anyway, despite one of the best movie names in years, YAB is incredibly cautious about this flick. Branding, in the marketing world, is the easiest way to grab your customer’s attention, no doubt. But you’ll need a product to back up the name if you want them coming back for more. Case in point: Monster.Com. This sounded like an excellent website. Turns out job searching is not as cool as a website devoted to monsters. Buzzkill.

From the people attached, I’m worried for Snakes on a Plane.

Let’s start with the star. Samuel L. Jackson is one of those actors who can do action and comedy simultaneously, as Bruce Willis perfected during Die Hard. I have no doubt in his abilities. But will he be able to keep it together? How can you say some of the lines needed to make this a believable plot without thinking this is just one long SNL sketch. In FACT, this WAS an SNL sketch in the early Will Ferrell years, and it WAS
hilarious.

Let’s move off of SLJ and turn to our faithful director David R. Ellis. No? That’s because this is only his fourth movie, and his priors include Final Destination II and even better, Homeward Bound II: Lost in San Francisco. (His proposed titles, of course, were “Death on the Way” and “Pets on a Trolley.”) But that’s not what signing a guy like David R. Ellis truly brings to your picture. While he may have only directed three other movies, he an industry veteran. According to
IMDB, Mr. Ellis has 65 credits as a STUNTMAN. Granted he has not done stunts for ten years, but he went out on top in the world of defying death. His final stunt project? Harriet the Spy.

I can’t make this stuff up.

Let’s finally move on to who I believe will play the villain and keeper of all things slithering: Byron Lawson. Never heard of ‘em? That’s not a problem. Movie villains are often best when you’ve never seen them before. Alan Rickman’s first movie was Die Hard. Enough said. But Byron Lawson, he’s an industry veteran as well. He’s done mostly TV work, but his most recent movie appearance should quell all fears of a subpar choice. After all, Lawson was in the Jet Li flick “Romeo Must Die.” That’s awesome! That had some great fights in it! What did he play, you ask? Oh.

Head Guard, Hsing Kang Prison

Like I said, things aren’t looking so good for New Line Cinema here. And I highly doubt this one makes the in-flight rotation for United Air, either. That could get dicey.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Pofficegeist

I think my cubicle is haunted.

Most desks I’ve seen can be compared to a peaceful river. The grains of the wood desk flowing from one side to the other, clean and smooth. You can even see your reflection in this variety. My desk, on the other hand, is more like the Arctic Sea. Cold to the touch and floes of mountainous paperwork floating on its surface. Maybe all of it will melt away come summer. But until then, I’m allowing it to contribute to my haunted theory.

Earlier this week, the iceberg of paper invoices got out of control to the point of chaos. While searching for my ID card (buried under the slew of budget white sheets), the entire mass shifted ever-so-slightly to the left. This wouldn’t have been a big deal at all, had only a few pages fallen gracefully to the floor. Instead, it sent my coffee mug spiraling to the floor.


No, it wasn’t filled with coffee. I said haunted, not apocalypse.

No, my coffee mug is filled with hole punches. The small paper discs that are the result of binderfication? Yeah, we collect them. Rather than just throwing them out, they are collected for a special day – normally a co-worker’s birthday – when a snowstorm takes place. This is incredibly frustrating, since no one wants to spend their morning picking up individual hole punches all morning long.


Hey, that’s office culture for ya.

But you know when I said that the coffee mug is filled with hole punches. I need to make an edit on that. I should say it WAS filled with hole punches.

Sure enough, I had caused a snowstorm in my OWN office by moving that icy stack of desk paper. The best part is when everyone walks by and gives you that look that says, “Hey, did you know there are hole punches everywhere?” And you have to respond with a counter-look that veers away from sarcasm. That’s a hard look to pull in this situation.

Every night, the janitorial staff comes in and vacuums the halls and common space. My cubicle is neither hallway nor common space. Looks like I’m screwed until I move offices.

That would be okay, considering there’s ghosts in our mists.

I went to a 10 AM staff meeting shortly thereafter. It was your usual “too many people are talking for this to be over in the time it was supposed to” variety. An hour an 15 minutes later, I returned to my desk, so that I could make more snow angels on the ground.The hole punches were GONE.

Now I don’t see a vacuum cleaner in sight, nor a janitor to operate one. And ruling out logical, normal resolutions on a whim, I’ve settled that my cubicle is haunted. By a neatnik ghost.

Nordghost.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Utensils of Fine China

YABNews: Dateline – Beijing

As read by our faithful field reporters (read: desk jockeys) on
CNN.com, there’s some startling news coming out of the House 2 doors down from the House of the Rising Sun. The Chinese Ministry of Finance, feeling the harrowing effects of rapid industrialization, have begun to implement measures that can keep China looking like beautiful China while spending like the United States. Worried for their trees, they have levied a 5 percent consumption tax on several wood and timber products. Only the construction industry is in shock that wooden floorboards are included. But the world at large is choking over the other taxable item. Chopsticks.

The staple utensil for millions, you will have to dig a little deeper in your wallet if you want to eat Chinese Food these days. (As Chandler once pointed out, over there they just call it “Food.”) While China plans tax introductions with other products (Golf balls? Really?), this seems to be the one that is catching the attention of more than the sleepy eyes of the YABNews desk. This could be the source of riots. Mayhem in the streets. Cats and dogs, living together. Mass hysteria! But for Condon? I highly doubt it with all that ice water in his veins. Oh and one other thing. When it comes to chopsticks –

Can’t work ‘em.

It’s not that I’m ignorant – I just can’t figure out how to make long pointy stick #1 communicate long enough with long pointy stick #2 to collaborate and bring that piece of sweet and sour pork from the plate to my palette. It just doesn’t work. It appears my dexterity is limited to Playstation controllers and the number pad on a computer keyboard. Unless a fork is in my future, I would have to fast every time Chicken Fried Rice is on the menu.

Regardless, I have some solutions. Why? Because I’m hoping YAB will be huge in China someday.

First off, I think it would ultimately cool if people starting carrying their own designer chopsticks. It would allow you to bring to your restaurant dinner table a sense of style and cool that would be respected by the company you are in, not to mention the waiter. You know how professional pool sharks fold up their lucky cue stick and carry it around in a black case lined with crushed velvet? Same damn thing. Except you wouldn’t have to disassemble your ‘sticks to stow them away.

Secondly, restaurants could come up with new ways to help pay for the use of all that wood by allowing patrons to forgo the tax in exchange for providing the venue with entertainment. Any eatery, cafĂ©, or bistro could install one of those FAO Schwartz-style giant keyboards on the floor. Anyone would could successfully play “Chopsticks” a la Hanks and Loggia will not have to pay the Chopstax, and the restaurant would foot the bill. The restaurant has the extra cash to pay it because they no longer need to hire entertainment. Everybody wins.

(Especially me, who is running to the copyright office to get a trademark on the phrase “Chopstax.”)

Thursday, February 23, 2006

From Friars to Fowl

Part of the college experience, no doubt, is the tireless attempts one makes to etch their name into the university’s lore by committing “the ultimate prank.” On another day, or perhaps in another song, I’ll finally transcribe here on YAB the events that took place on the night of young Mattias’ birthday, where for one night his hall mates became his furniture moving company. As a group, we’re proud of the Great Bed Heist due to its originality and complexity. But had we wanted something simpler, we could have gone with the bread and butter of the collegiate prank:

The Street Sign Swipe.

There probably isn’t a frat house in the country that doesn’t have those long, green, reflective rectangular trophies on their basement wall for all partygoers to behold. Lehigh had it good (from what I’m told.) However, if I were ever to grab a street sign for my mantle, I have to admit, I’ve had a prime selection to choose from over the years. I’ve lived on some weird, weird streets. Don’t believe me?

I grew up in Sherwood Forest. Seriously. It was a housing development in Medford that for reasons unbeknownst, all had streets named after the legend of Robin Hood and his Merry Men. I remember speeding down Little John Drive, making a hard left onto Nottingham, and spinning around to get back home for dinner – on FRIAR TUCK DRIVE. Yes, my road was named after the fat, frothy friar who befriends good Sir Robin with his wine and ale. He was a thief, just like everyone else. What kind of role model is this to look out your window and see? A drunk bandit? Who laughs heartily in the face of authority? I was 7!

My parents soon realized this, and moved around the corner in 1987 to, yes, ROBIN HOOD Drive. Personally, even then, I saw this as a residential promotion. Yes, the house was bigger, and sure, it was closer to the fishing lake, but just listen to the name. Sir Robin was WAY more important that Tuck. He was the leader, the numero uno. That’s a road with some glory attached to its name. God forbid my parents found a better place on Lazy Squire Lane. It may have affected my self-esteem for years.

Fast forwarding to post-college, my first place on my own was on a CELTIC Drive. What was cool about this was not its homage to ancient tribes of ancient Europeans, but rather all three roads in the complex were named after pro basketball teams. Knickerbocker and Laker were the other choices. Being on Celtic was nice, but if I had to pick three teams to name roads after, going from the hardwood to the pavement, it would have been Rocket Road, Magic Street, and my choice favorite, Trail Blazer Trail. Redundancy is our friend.

Granted RANDOM RUN Lane was the best street name to date, and my current address takes me about 2 and half minutes to write out in full, I’m fast forwarding to some avenues we encountered while driving through a housing development coming home from church Sunday. The entire neighborhood was named after BIRDS. Not nice birds like Skylark or Cardinal or Blue Jay. No, no.
Weird Birds.

There’s Canada Goose Court. And look, it’s Gosling Road (McAdams? What?) But then we reached a fork in the road.

To our Left? The beautiful sounding “White Dove Lane.” What grace, what charming elegance. Sounds lovely.

To our Right? Ruddy Duck Road. I kid you not. Elegance need not apply.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Rhapsody in Blue

I’m nice to help desk operators…most of the time.

For the past two years, Oscar Party has been made possible by unknowing sponsors. I’ve signed up for a free Netflix trial to see some nominees without paying, and then canceling thereafter. I’ve been able to brush up on the big races by getting 8 free issues of Entertainment Weekly by buying something (small) at Best Buy. At best of all, the expansive song library that is used for the famous Oscar Party does not come from my mp3 or CD collection, but from Real Networks’ own Rhapsody music service.

(And you thought I had all that Celine Dion on my iPod? Please…)

But the key part of the free sponsor equation is canceling said services before the trial ends, and therefore hitting you up for charges on a product you really had no intention to use, but rather simply exploit. The San Diego excursion last week, unfortunately, caused me to lapse on said deadlines. Thanks, West Coast.

Now while the prospects of rocking out to the best of KidzBop and the Rocky soundtracks at work has its appeal, at this point I’m frustrated to the point that no matter what I have just paid for, I just want Rhapsody to go away. Disappear, vanish, cease to exist. All of it.


I could just make Rhapsody play George Mason in basketball. That would work, right Chapel Hill?

(Snap.)

Unfortunately, those lads at Rhapsody are clever. Unlike Netflix, you have to actually call and talk to an actual person to convince them that you no longer require their services; a simple email or website does not exist. Maybe they think you will reconsider. Maybe you will get frustrated with being on hold for 20 minutes and give up. Maybe you won’t be able to understand who you are speaking to and somehow sign up for three other services you don’t need in error. Regardless, all I wanted to do on Saturday was call Rhapsody and give them the boot.


Figuratively, not literally. I like to keep my footwear in pairs.

Now the guy who picked up the other end, he has different goals in mind. His job, while it may be partially to process cancellation requests, is to find ways to keep me as a paying customer, without breaking the Rhapsody bank. I, on the other hand, am looking to lay the free trial smackdown, with no real regard. What happens if I, one customer, is completely honest about why I don’t want the service. Will I hurt his feelings? Will I destroy their business model? Will this guy put me back on hold and give me Celine’s Live from Vegas crap to lull me into a screeching stupor?

(Oh God, no.)

It’s quite the game really. The operator went on to offer me the rest of the month I had just paid for, plus an additional month of service for free if I chose to not cancel today. That was his best offer. What would happen if I had accepted those terms? Easy. I’d be writing this blog in about 46 days from now how I just got charged for the second time for a service I was using for its free trial properties. And while this guy was good, I thought of every excuse in the book why I wanted no part. (the best of which would have been taking a vow to become Amish, but I’m sure he would questioned my use of a telephone at that very moment.)

My response? “I liked it because it was free. It’s not free anymore. Cancel my account.”

Not witty, but damn effective.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

It's pronounced "Eel-lee-nu-wah"

Maybe if I wear some high-tops, I can sneak onto the bench.

In about three hours from now, workforce productivity will take a nosedive, and internet browsers everywhere will be ALT+TABbing their way to constant updates from the first round of th 2006 NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, aka March Madness.

And I, your YAB reporter on the spot, just might be playing power forward.
As hinted to an several occasions in the last week, we’re coming to you live from beautiful (yet unseasonably cool) San Diego, California. I’m staying in a hotel with 6 bars of soap, a view of the cove, and several fancy pants restaurants in walking distance from the valet-infested lobby. Even with per diem reimbursement on my side, I wasn’t going to go crazy at fancy places all week. This is why we kicked it at the excellent In and Out Burger just this past Tuesday night. Rental Car, AWAY!

Upon our return to the hotel, we had to wait at the crossing between the lobby and the row of restaurants de pantalones fancymente. There was a crossing that was in progress, and no one likes a car that blows through a block of pedestrians. But it was not chickens, or ducks, or anything of the sort crossing the road. It was a far more imposing presence.

Everyone was over 6’2”.

Sure enough, one of the eight NCAA teams set to play in San Diego today is staying in this very hotel, and dining with fancypants. Now the question remained: which of the eight could it be? For those who have not memorized the bracket back and forth and to and fro, here are the eight colleges tipping off at Cox Arena today.

Air Force Falcons
Alabama Crimson Tide
Belmont Bruins
Illinois Fighting Illini
Marquette Golden Eagles
UCLA Bruins
Utah State Aggies
Washington Huskies

Now, much to my dismay, the mystery team did not choose to wear their uniforms to dinner, and I’m fairly disappointed. It’s the same premise the professional musicians should have to carry their instruments around with them at all time, so that fans get to know more than just the lead singer (Sucks to be you, drummer.)

So without any other clues, here is how we narrowed it down to on team.

First off, this group of young gents was coming out of Fleming’s Steakhouse. This is too risky to be trying out new eateries with such a big game coming up, so Washington is out (it’s the only state of the eight teams that no Fleming’s exists.) Secondly, it’s a STEAKOUSE. These are BIG 16-22 oz. cuts of meat. There is NO WAY that any type of bird, whether an Air Force Falcon or a Golden Eagle of Marquette could down a whole steak. Impossible.

What the hell is an Aggie? No time to find out. It wasn’t them

In addition, a Bruin is a type of bear. And somehow, the two teams of Bruins have been squared off against one another. No matter which one wins, Fleming’s is a classy place, and cannot allow BEARS to inhabit their restaurants. Complete chaos. And while it may be red meat on the menu, there was no one wearing red in this group, which I think is a requirement of Alabama.

So even though they weren’t fighting, it was the Illini of Illinois.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Bridal, Beware!

(Before we start, don't forget about registering in "You're a Bracket." Scroll down for more.)

Frankly, I just don’t get it.

Marriage is supposed to be a joyous occasion in the lives of a man and his chosen wife. There should be a celebration of their love, with those who support their endeavors all around, and everyone should be able to look back on that day and think, “Man, that is where their best days of their lives began.” The traditions of a wedding alone should give the rest of the world hope in society, and happiness that these two souls have found each other. And yet, while I was sitting at breakfast this morning, I overheard a conversation at the adjacent table that, honestly, has got me a little frightened.

I mean, it seemed like a normal enough conversation. I wasn’t intending to overhear each and every word, and I didn’t. I feel like I’d catch every other word. That’s what happens when you eat cereal for breakfast. With every Honey Nut that went Crunch, it was like hitting the mute button on th couple of businessmen to my immediate right.

The conversation itself meandered from topic to topic. Talking about the weather is point of silliness in San Diego, California. “Lovely weather we’re having, no?” “Yes, and while we’re at it, it’s good to see that gravity continues to exist.” The dialogue touches on many other places, from March Madness holding first round games downtown (more on that tomorrow) to the crazy convention that has engulfed the lower lobby area of the hotel for the past few days. But the one man’s parting words have got me puzzled, which is why I am writing today.

“Beware…”

I mean, what could this guy have against marriage. Both men were wearing wedding rings, and even though they were away from their respective spouses (so it seemed), there was no talk about how hard they had it on the homefront. Surely, a diatribe about one of their significant others’ could have replaced the weather chat, no? But then again, this man’s statement, focusing his problems with the women of the wedding to this particular month, makes me feel that it’s not marriage he has a problem with. Just the wedding itself.


(pause…finishing my cereal now)

Ok, I’m back. I can’t recall ever attending a wedding in this third month of the calendar year? I’ve been to my share in the last several years, and they’ve spanned the summer, the fall, and even an occasional winter gala. And regardless of all of those weddings, I have to think that March would be just fine! The advent of spring, the good luck associated with St. Patrick’s Day, and all of the chaos and unexpected events focus themselves on that basketball tournament, not on any couple’s exchange of marital vows.

So puzzling, this is.

Planning a wedding is extremely stressful for the woman, and there has been lore of “Bridezillas” freaking out the world. But is that what this man was referring to as he bid is breakfast meeting mate adieu? Is there a disastrous wedding in the works in this very hotel? I’m completely stumped. Why would this guy say…

“Beware the Brides of March!”

Oh wait. (checks the date on wristwatch) Um, nevermind.

Stupid cereal.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Hyatt! How're you doing?

When you travel across country to the West Coast (which I have managed to do in the last 24 hours), there are some things that can make you dread the business trip. Planes with little legroom, baggage checks that take you to the breaking point of panic before your suitcase calmly slides out of the chute, and rental cars that are parked as far as possible from the bus drop-off as possible, to name a few. (My theory on that last one is that airport snack paks of peanuts are secretly eleventy billion calories (not to mention a sleep tranquilizer), and the airport decides you need to work off that extra energy by dropping you off at the terminal and your vehicle is parked in…Barstow.

(I actually have no idea where Barstow is.)

But if the airport is the ying of that delicate karmatic balance that is business travel, the hotel does it’s best to bring the yang. All the stresses should theoretically be as useful as an old boarding pass, and once you park that infernal rental in the garage, you should be able to relax before a long week of meetings, conferences, trainings, and the dreaded training conferences for meetings. You slide the fancy keycard in the door, and you’re home. Kind of.

Most major hotel rooms try to make it feel like home by providing many of the guest services that you should be privy to back across the country. They have a bed to sleep on. An alarm clock for you to despise. A TV that even comes with a few extra channels you aren’t accustomed to (I swear, HBO showed “National Treasure” at least three times since I’ve been here. Who do they think they are? TBS?) These are basic services, and I come to expect them when I reserve a hotel room.

Then comes the guesswork.

The hospitality management industry has very little to do with Big Brother. Marriott hasn’t bugged your phone, Hyatt isn’t watching what you buy at the supermarket, and Sheraton doesn’t have a hidden video camera in your smoke detector. Nay, they have no idea what you, the customer, keeps and uses in the comforts of your own residence. Instead, these hoteliers had to get together at some point to determine what else to put in your hotel room so that you can forget this isn’t your bed. And as I look around my 5th floor room at the LaJolla Hyatt, I’ve just got to laugh. They’re not even close.

Sure, there’s a mini-bar with 3 dollar Snickers and 16 dollar Gulliver-bottles of liquor. I could wax comedic on those, but Mitch Hedberg’s material would trump my own, so I’ll explore new territory: The Hotel Bathroom.

A quick inventory of this spacious and strangle place has yielded the following haul of, yes, FREE STUFF!

- No less than SIX various bars of soap. And this doesn’t even include the trusty Irish Spring I packed. The soap can be a traveling dilemma. Let’s say you bring a fresh bar for a three-day trip. Not even Howard Hughes can utilize that much soap in three days. So you are left with soap so specific you need a roadmap. Facial soap. Hand soap. Everyday soap. There’s even a bar with small golf-ball dimples that is packaged as “Massage soap.” With so many, I guarantee by the end of my trip one of these should be re-titled “Lost Track of So I Slipped on It and Broke my Neck” Soap.

- Three liquid soaps that fall in the shampoo family. Hotel shampoo is hilarious to me. Name brands need not apply. They always come from companies that sound like they came up with their name so that they can be part of a Spa. Examples would be things like “Gingeresque” or “Portico” or “Solubility” or “This Came from a Spa.”

- A shower cap. Why? Just to reinforce the fact that Condon has a giant head. No dice.

- Not one, but TWO toilet roll paper dispensers. No comment.

- 1 soft cotton shoe cloth. I guess it’s for hippies who would rather wear fabric on their feet than a good pair of loafers.

- A Shower faucet powered by an airplane turbine. Holy hell, that almost did the job of that latter soap I mentioned. The best part is that the thing is labeled “Oxygenic Skin Care Shower.” That’s like calling an Abrams Tank a “Friend of Fluffy Bunnies.”

Oh, and apparently the hoteliers’ idea of a business traveler is no taller than 5’9”.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

YAB = You're a Bracket.

I wish I could say I was a die-hard college basketball fan. The guy who watches every non-conference match-up in hopes of gleaning any insights for this time of year. The one who can name the backcourt of every squad from the Atlantic to the Pac 10. That genius who could GW’s fantastic season of Maryland’s disastrous one. But I’m not that guy, nor do I want to be. When it comes to March Madness that guy finishes sixth.

One spot behind me.


I am by no means a NCAA Championship Bracket Champion. I only got a B+ in Bracketology back in undergrad, and I just don’t have what it takes to be the Drew Lachey of the Big Dance. (I promise that will be the only Drew Lachey reference YAB will EVER Make.)

Like I referenced
last year, when it comes to filling out my bracket, I’m pretty good. I pay attention to the conference tournaments, I have a Sports Center-level of knowledge of who is good this year *Villanova* and who isn’t *Kentucky.* I normally am very proud of a big upset that I magically predict, but disappointed in two others I had also carded. I’ll be a master of the first two rounds, and then be completely out of my league when it really starts to count. That’s me, your March Madness 5th place finisher.

If everyone in your office pool were one of this year’s Academy Award movies, I would be the one they call “Walk the Line.” A strong contender, with some very good qualities, and everyone can look at and go “Wow, they made some great choices there in the beginning, but I just wanted something more at the end.” While the later-year Cash is playing at Folsom Prison, I’m waiting for UConn and Gonzaga to square off in the final year. Too bad the right answer was Crash, and not Cash, and the actual title game was between UNC and Illinois. But hey, Reese Witherspoon was great and so was the fact I picked Manhattan to upset Florida. Oh well. 5th is nice.

What does this all mean, Condon?

Since last year YAB completely slept on coverage of the NCAA March Madness tournament, we’ve decided to make up for it by launching a competition of our own.

YAB = You’re a Bracket.

Hosted by
fantasysports.yahoo.com, You’re a Bracket will give the loyal readership of YAB a chance to compete for bracket supremacy, with updates amidst the funny bringing. The winner will get bragging rights, and their identity and Bracket nickname posted on YAB’s sidebar for the year, beginning our new feature “Roll Call of the Awesome” (RCA). You can brag to your friends that there’s now one more place you can be found when you google yourself. All you have to do is click on the link below, and pick away. We’ll do a tourney preview on Thursday once everybody’s picks are in.

Did I mention this is free?

Link is
http://tournament.fantasysports.yahoo.com
Create a Yahoo ID (if you don’t have one.)
After you name your pick sheet, click to Join a Group.
The Group ID is 57386, and the password is “bringthefunny.”

See you there.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

The Sixth Cents

On Wall Street, thousands of brokers, I-bankers, and internship lackeys spend their days amidst the hustle and bustle, watching money change hands and change values in a matter of seconds. Fortunes are made, and then instantaneously lost. Ticker tape is in as much abundance as a post-World Series Wednesday in Chicago, and people on the floor are doing what they can to get every last nickel, dime, and quarter out of the open market and into the respective accounts of who they work for.

Coincidentally, the same can be said for our apartment.

For those who have yet to take their vows of matrimony, let us educate you with a new twist on intra-couple finance 101. From the moment the two of you say, “I Do” (preferably in front of someone who could then pronounce you man and wife), what is yours and hers magically becomes “ours.” That includes the furniture you can’t let go of from your college days. That includes that stack of bridal magazines in the corner (hey, they may not be useful to you, but you are now a co-owner of said stack.) And, of course, that includes any stocks, bonds, and cash that either of you possess. Welcome to joint banking. Co-signing is your friend.


But spare change? That’s a completely different story.

In our household, there’s a little game simply known as “Coinstars.” Why it is plural, I have no idea. This may not be a national phenomenon, but it should be. Perhaps at your local supermarket, there’s an ominous green arcade game out in the lobby where you get your shopping cart. It’s very easy to play. You put all your loose change in a basket. The magical arcade game keeps it all. A majority of your spare change’s value is then printed out on a tiny piece of paper that shoots out of the machine. You then take it to the closest cashier for paper money. If you’re lucky, you’ll have enough to buy Water Works and the Electric Company.

Needless to say, Change is good.

For single people, the accumulation of this coinage is simple. At the end of your day, empty thy pockets into a basket/cup/mug designated for change (and not coffee – yech). After so many months, turn it in for what seems like free money.

When it’s a two player game, the rules change. Katie and I have been testing the groundwork for months, and the competition is indeed intense. Remember all that stuff about joint banking? Coinstars is a complete exception. What you cash in at the supermarket is yours to do with whatever you please. You could buy a DVD, or a nice skirt. (No jokes about who bought what…) It’s up to you.
This makes change a high demand currency.

Since I am the one most likely to be dangling change like a busted-up modifier, Katie has the most to gain here, by intercepting any change I bring into the apartment. With this in mind, we have had to devise some rules. There are as follows:

- Once change is in one of the respective cups, it is safe and cannot be stolen.
- If change hits the floor, it is open game.
- If change is on a surface, like a counter or table, it is also open game.
- If change is still in a pocket, it is open game, but be prepared to have to fight your way to your cup.

I’d write more, but I just realized I have 37 cents in my coat pocket. And I’d like to keep it that way.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Oscar Sunday

Last Oscar Party III post. I promise.

Ambition is a funny thing. Three years ago, we thought it would be fun to have some local friends over to watch the Oscars. Throw some chips on the table, come up with some trivia questions, allow people to pick the winners. The next year we introduced the Song Bee, the populus expanded to 25, and we outdid Chris Rock as hosts. At the same time, both hosts (Condon and Spud) have seen their lives get more complex and hectic. Graduate schools, career searches, marriage, and the blog backdating race have made things busier that usual. And yet, for this year, we wanted to do something more.

Billy Crystal is widely-regarded as the Best Oscar host of the last 15 years. He ad-libs well, has a solid monologue, and any prepared sketches are often very successful. But what he does best is his opening. Very often a musical montage highlighting all the movies in the running for Best Picture. It’s clever, musically sound, and does an excellent job of taking the pulse of pop culture. As we met in early February to plan OPIII, this was our inspiration for ambition.

In December 2005, Saturday Night Live showed a sketch featuring Chris Parnell and Andy Samberg called Lazy Sunday. I hope you’ve seen it. If you haven’t, we’ll send over some nice curtains to spruce up that rock you’ve been living under. A Run-DMC/Beastie Boys-style rap telling the tale of two white guys and their quest to go see the Chronicles of Narnia hit the airwaves, with a level of freshness typically reserved for the produce aisle at Wegman’s. Shortly thereafter, it popped up on the internet, and was seen nearly 7 million times before NBC called for a cease and desist at
www.YouTube.com and other fine media outlets. (NBC isn’t completely stupid, and has re-posted the video on their own site.)

Soon thereafter, lyrics from this monumental piece showed up everywhere. SportsCenter guys were calling Kobe Bryant “crazy delicious.” Mr. Pibb walked out of the shadow of his more successful brother Dr. Pepper. And a slew of imitators showed up on the Internet.

Parody is a funny thing. With every new Lazy Sunday video that showed up, the SNL guys get a masterful compliment. Two guys created a shot-by-shot remake in NYC. A couple of 11 year olds lip synched the thing with surprising accuracy. And two out-of-work actors on the West Coast put together an impressive reply to the East Coasters in Rockefeller Plaza.

“Oscar Sunday” was our turn.

We did the best we could to make this thing as funny and as professional as possible. We held writing sessions to bring our own comedy to the stage. Since no karaoke instrumental version exists on the planet, we were forced to sample the original and play with freeware keyboards to turn a 5 second sample into a 2:21 hip hop track. Then there was the recording studio. 1) Find a walk-in closet with little ventilation. 2) Sound proof it my draping towels over all of the close. 3) Put your laptop with the cheap internal microphone against the wall. 4) Spend 2 hours with iPod headphones on listening to the track while yelling at the wall. 5) Hope your wife doesn’t come home to realize how insane that all looks.

Yes, we have an mp3. E-mail me at
condon@gwu.edu if you want a copy of that for your iPod.

But we’ve down audio parody in the past. It was time to mimic the true genius of the original Lazy Sunday – the video.

On three different days, Spud and I did our best “tough white kids” impression around the DC area, lip synching into a digital camcorder mounted on the steady hand of my incredibly patient wife. We were everywhere. Two different movie theaters, in a theater-like classroom at an un-named local university, lifeguard chairs, bathtubs, and in the privacy of our own homes. When it was all said and done, we had an hour of footage to cut down to that magic 2:21 of comedy.

Editing was new for me. But we had a plan and a storyboard, and a goldmine of funny film. Someday soon, I’ll return to that stock and cut a gag reel together. Then you’ll see we had as much fun making it as you will watching it.

Without any more verbosity, Lyric Intensive would like you all to see what opened and closed Oscar Party III.

Our SNC Digital Short,
Oscar Sunday.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Academy Shmecademy Part II

Yeah, this is getting up late. But you’ve got to realize, Brendan Fraser is on the West Coast, so I cut him some slack when he agreed to review the Best of the Rest of this year’s Academy Awards. Ok, Mr. Monkeybone, the blog is all yours. Don’t break anything, ok?

Thanks, Chris. Because brevity is not the soul of Oscar recapping, let’s jump right back in to this, shall we?

Best Foreign Language Film
Don’t Tell – 0%
Joyeux Noel – 15%
Paradise Now – 35%
Sophie Scholl – Final Days – 5%
Tsotsi – 45%

Who Chris picked: Tsotsi
Who Brendan picked: Dudley Do-Right (it was in Canadian)
Analysis:
Some years, like the Crouching Tiger year, there is a clear cut favorite. As a member of the Academy, let me allow you to know my voting rule for this category: I always vote for what I cannot pronounce.

Best Sound Editing
King Kong – 55%
Memoirs of a Geisha – 25%
War of the Worlds – 20%

Who Chris picked: King Kong
Who Brendan picked: King Kong
Analysis
: When I was trying to watch MY movie, Crash, I could hear King Kong in the next theater over. That’s one loud monkey. I also heard he based his cries of glee after my character in Encino Man.

Best Sound Mixing
Chronicles of Narnia – 20%
King King – 35%
Memoirs of a Geisha – 0%
Walk the Line – 35%
War of the Worlds – 10%

Who Chris picked: Walk the Line
Who Brendan picked: King King
Analysis:
Ok, I didn’t really pick the monkey here. I just figured Walk the Line was all about sound, but I’m ticked off at Condon. His Brendan Fraser theory nearly destroyed me in the late 90’s. More on that later.

Editor’s Note: Hey Brendan, you almost destroyed yourself.

Best Visual Effects
Chronicles of Narnia – 50%
King Kong – 50%
War of the Worlds – 0%

Who Chris picked: King Kong
Who Brendan picked: Chronicles of Narnia
Analysis:
This was a ridiculous year for visuals. Sin City, Star Wars, Fantastic Four, Kingdom of Heaven, Harry Potter, Crash – yeah, I said it – CRASH. There were some killer visuals there. I looked respected!

Best Costume
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – 10%
Memoirs of a Geisha – 70%
Mrs. Henderson Presents – 0%
Pride and Prejudice – 10%
Walk the Line – 10%

Who Chris picked: Geisha
Who Brendan picked: The Mummy
Analysis:
What do you mean it wasn’t eligible? C’mon! They had that guy dressed like a mummy! Layer upon layer of gauze! Did Johnny Cash wear gauze? No! (I am not a smart man.)

Best Makeup
Chronicles of Narnia – 75%

Cinderella Man – 5%
SW: Episode III – 20%

Who Chris picked: Chronicles of Narnia
Who Brendan picked: Darth Vader is mean.
Analysis:
Ok, so since no one cares about makeup, I’ll break out Condon’s theory. Simply put, if a movie has Brendan Fraser in it, avoid at all costs. The theory practically became law when Mummy Returns came out and made his list of one of the 5 Worst Movies Ever.

Best Documentary Short
Death of Kevin Carter – 15%
God Sleeps in Rwanda – 65%
The Mushroom Club – 10%
A Note of Triumph – 10%

Chris picked: A Note of Triumph
Brendan picked: Quiet American
Analysis:
Damn analysis. Like I was saying, Condon admits tat the Brendan Fraser theory does have some holes. With Honors, School Ties were parts of my earlier work that I wasn’t being myself yet. That’s why we are not in the Law stage, like David Arquette.

Best Documentary Feature
Darwin’s Nightmare – 0%
Enron: Smartest Guys… - 5%
March of the Penguins – 85%
Murderball – 10%
Street Fight – 0%

Chris picked: Friends of Mario Lemieux
Brendan picked: Penguins ARE cute.
Analysis:
So these guys brought penguins up on stage? Did you see the sound guys bring a giant monkey? Did George Clooney bring Quaker State? Did Reese go straight from Point A to B? Did Sandra Bullock and I collide on stage? Why are we being so literal?

Best Animated Short
Badgered – 0%
The Moon and the Sun – 30%
Jasper Morello – 45%
9 – 10%
One Man Band – 15%

Chris picked: Moon and the Sun
Brendan Fraser: Monkeybone was ANIMATED AND SHORT!
Analysis
: But then Condon saw Blast from the Past and Crash over the last year, and apparently his theory is breaking down quickly. I’m not such a bad guy. I just picked bad projects for a while. I think I’m related to Allison Fraser, too, so I’ve got that goin’ for me.

Best Short Film
The Runaway – 20%
Cashback – 15%
The Last Farm – 5%
Our Time is Up - 40%
Six Shooter – 20%

Chris picked: The Runaway
Brendan picked: (shocker) Good Night and Good Luck
Analysis:
Dude, it was like 85 minutes. That should so count.

Best Original Song
In the Deep – 20%
Hard Out Here for a Pimp – 50%
Travelin’ Thru – 30%

Chris picked: Travelin’ Thru
Brendan picked: Do you even need how to ask? I did backing vocals on that one.

Best Art Direction
Good Night and Good Luck – 15%
Harry Potter IV – 10%
King Kong – 5%
Memoirs of a Geisha – 70%
Pride & Prejudice – 0%

Chris picked: Memoirs of a Geisha
Brendan picked: “Weeds in the Juice” (???)
Analysis:
Look, I Brendan Fraser, am proud of the analysis I have contributed to YAB’s Oscar analysis. Have I done better that Keanu last year? I’d say yes, but I don’t want to anger the young thespian.

He knows kung fu.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Academy, Shmecademy Part I

Part of the fun of Oscar Party is data entry. Don’t believe me? While I sit diligently at my laptop entering in people prediction on the Oscarmatic, I may miss out on some of the delicious food, the delightful conversation, and a slew of “Death to Smoochy” jokes, I also get to avoid listening to the red carpet fashionhawks on TV. Flip to every channel, and someone lacking a soul is yapping into a microphone? Isaac Mizrahi? Ryan Seacrest? Joan Rivers? No wonder the carpet is red. It is staffed by Satan’s minions.

Anyway, here are the 12 major category results, with percentages reflecting the OPIII electorate, and the winner in bold. Like last year, I’ll cover this one, and maybe guest critic Brendan Fraser will take over.

Best Picture
Brokeback Mountain – 80%
Capote – 0%
Crash – 15%
Good Night, and Good Luck – 0%
Munich – 5%

Who I Picked: Brokeback Mountain
Who Should’ve Won: TBD
Analysis:
I can’t call this one yet. With all the OPIII party planning, I didn’t get to as many flicks as I want, and one schedule casualty was Brokeback. Is Crash Best Picture worthy? Absolutely. Is Brokeback better? I can’t say just yet. Besides, it’s not that big a deal. I’m pretty sure Ledger and Gyllenhaal were in Crash too, like the rest of the Screen Actors Guild.

Best Director
George Clooney, GNGL – 15%
Paul Haggis, Crash – 0%
Ang Lee, Brokeback Mountain – 70%
Bennett Miller, Capote – 0%
Steven Spielberg, Munich – 15%

Who I Picked: Ang Lee

Who Should’ve Won: Ang Lee
Analysis: The three main parts of a movie are the acting, the directing, and the writing. From what I have heard, this movie’s subtlety is what makes it shine, and that is often direction. Besides, Ang Lee totally got shafted for helming The Incredible Hulk *cough*

Best Actor
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Capote – 65%
Terrence Howard, Hustle & Flow – 0%
Heath Ledger, Brokeback Mtn. - 15%
Joaquin Phoenix, Walk the Line – 20%
David Strathairn, GNGL – 0%

Who I Picked: Philip Seymour Hoffman
Who Should’ve Won: Philip Seymour Hoffman
Analysis:
His voice sounds like Droopy Dog on depressants. But he sticks to being Droopy the entire movie and this movie was totally reliant on him pulling off the part. Didn’t love the movie, but PSH was excellent. For the record, this result left Joaquin terribly vexed.

Best Actress
Judi Dench, Mrs. Henderson Presents – 0%
Felicity Huffman, Transamerica – 30%
Keira Knightley, Pride and Prejudice - 0%
Charlize Theron, North Country – 0%
Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line – 70%

Who I Picked: Reese Witherspoon
Who Should’ve Won: Reese Witherspoon
Analysis:
Can you imagine the arguments at Reese and Ryan Phillipe’s dinner table this week? Their kids will trying and figure out which is better, a Best Actress for a mommy or Daddy being in the Best Picture. Regardless, there’s no way this family prepares their own meals.

Best Supporting Actor
George Clooney, Syriana – 40%
Matt Dillon, Crash – 5%
Paul Giamatti, Cinderella Man - 20%
Jake Gyllenhaal, Brokeback Mtn. – 35%
William Hurt, History of Violence – 0%

Who I Picked: Paul Giamatti
Who Should’ve Won: George Clooney
Analysis:
Hollywood got this one right, I believe. Giamatti played a great character. Clooney created one. His diner speech is the one that sold it. And his Oscar speech was excellent. (I kind of would like to see the other 4 pull off the Batsuit. Sorry, Mr. Hurt.)

Best Supporting Actress
Amy Adams, Junebug – 5%
Catherine Keener, Capote – 5%
Frances McDormand, North Country - 5%
Rachel Weisz, Constant Gardener – 75%
Michelle Williams, Brokeback Mtn. – 10%

Who I Picked: Rachel Weisz
Who Should’ve Won: Rachel Weisz
Analysis:
or Amy Adams. This was a weak category this year. Why not nominate the evil chick from Geisha? At least she could have set fire to the homes of these lackluster performances. And she would have been a hit at the Vanity Fair after-parties. Trust me. Or else.

Best Adapted Screenplay
Brokeback Mountain – 75%

Capote – 5%
Constant Gardener - 10%
History of Violence – 0%
Munich – 10%

Who I Picked: Brokeback Mountain
Who Should’ve Won: Brokeback Mountain
Analysis:
or Amy Adams. This was the most frustrating thing about Capote. Some books make me want to stop reading at once and go see the movie. Capote made me want to leave the theater and go buy Capote’s book. It was the crude equivalent of Fever Pitch – the story of how you wrote the book is nice, but I want to pay attention to the content of the book. Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore were ok, but I ended up wanting to just watch more about the miracle run of the Sox.

What was I talking about again?

Best Original Screenplay
Crash – 80%
Good Night, and Good Luck – 15%
Match Point - 0%
Squid and the Whale – 0%
Syriana – 5%

Who I Picked: Crash
Who Should’ve Won: Crash
Analysis:
Had this lost, it WOULD be the BIGGEST Best Picture upset of ALL TIME. I love the CAPS LOCK.


Ahem.

Best Cinematography
Batman Begins – 10%
Brokeback Mountain – 50%
Good Night, and Good Luck - 10%
Memoirs of a Geisha – 25%
The New World – 5%

Who I Picked: Brokeback Mountain
Who Should’ve Won: Brokeback Mountain
Analysis:
Has Brokeback won this one, it would have been the biggest thing to happen to Wyoming since Yogi Bear tooled around their national park…wait a minute…nevermind. But didn’t Geisha seem a little dark at the beginning visually?

Best Original Score
Brokeback Mountain – 60%

Constant Gardener – 15%
Memoirs of a Geisha – 15%
Munich – 0%
Pride and Prejudice – 0%

Who I Picked: Memoirs of a Geisha
Who Should’ve Won: Brokeback Mountain
Analysis:
John Williams was nominated twice in this category for Geisha and Munich. Nordberg pointed out that every Spielberg movie ever seems to have Williams conducting. He added that in Spielberg’s “Movie People Rolodex” he must flip to music, and there’s only one business card in there. Williams, John.

Best Film Editing
Cinderella Man – 10%
Constant Gardener – 15%
Crash - 70%
Munich – 10%
Walk the Line – 5%

Who I Picked: Crash
Who Should’ve Won: Crash
Analysis:
Since 1981, every Best Picture winner has at least got a nomination for editing. Had Brokeback won, it would have put the editors to shame. Conclusion: Don’t mess with editors – they’ll find a way to quit you.

Best Animated Feature
Howl’s Moving Castle – 0%
Corpse Bride – 20%
Wallace and Gromit – 80%

Who I Picked: Wallace and Gromit
Who Should’ve Wallace and Gromit
Analysis:
I feel comfortably ruling out Corpse Bride. Apparently Howl’s was easier to follow that Sprited Away, but it’s nice to see Nick Park get an Oscar since Pixar phoned it in.

As promised, I will take off tomorrow in lieu of Mr. Monkeybone himself, Brendan Fraser.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Bjork, We Hardly Knew Ye

Last night was the 78th Annual Academy Awards, which signifies to main things in the world of entertainment. First, the Academy has an opportunity to honor those who worked their respective crafts to the very best, by handing them a thin gold man who would make an ideal candidate to stand in the middle of a four-man wall in a soccer game. Secondly, YAB’s got a whole week’s worth of material when it comes to recapping.

In the coming week, YAB readers will get a two-day recap of all things Oscar, the awards, who won, who should have won, who I think should have won, who thinks they know who I think should have won, those who won the right to think they know I think should have won, and so on. (I get a little verbose this time of year.) We’ll also finish off the week with a behind-the-scenes look of what it takes to put together a musical opening Oscar-themed video of your own. (I figure it will take me that long to figure out how to use youtube correctly.) After all, this IS the church….

But first, a report live from the after party of Oscar Party III, or OPIII for short.

The third incarnation of the OP was held for its final time at the place where it all started, Random Run Lane. While we will be sad to see the venue go (Spud will likely vacate at lease-end), keep in mind that the legacy and the event will live on. The Oscars themselves started in a small ballroom at a LA hotel in 1928. Before you know it, we’ll be renting out movie theaters for this thing. (Which would mean I’d get my hands on a whole new array of fun audio-visual tools.) Hell, maybe after watching this year’s Oscars, I’ll starting filming the Oscar Parties, and then do a montage.

All 19 of those in attendance and one lost sheep toiling in Israel made their picks and got entered into the Oscarmatic machine (my laptop). Thanks to a helpful idea from Icarus Fallen’s Mattias Caro, we tricked out the viewing rig from one TV to two this year. TV Alpha was for the telecast, and TV Beta was for showing the live updating scoreboard, a breakdown in each category of how much of the room was voting for each, and a free glimpse of Condon checking his e-mail when Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep nearing bored him to tears.

Aside from the Master Predictions, three other specials were added to this year’s mix. Spud and Chris rolled out the Song Bee, a remake from 2005’s hit “The Song Bee.” Who says remakes always suck? The songs got harder, and the game got longer, but eventually it was Mr. Moviefone-it-in, Chris Nordberg, who took home the prize sealing the deal by pulling The Matrix for the Propellorheads’ Spybreak.

A casting initiative was presented to small groups to honor the category of Best Direction. Each of the four teams were given a great movie of the past and told to recast the movie however they wanted, and prepare a movie pitch to those with all the money…or at least the congregation in attendance. We didn’t actually get to the pitch (not enough time, and Tom Hanks taught us that wasting too much time will result in a woodwind instrument to the head.) If you were a part of this action, feel free to post a comment with what happened in your group. As for my group, it appears that Jon Heder will be The Karate Kid After Next, only if he can survive training with the new Mr. Miyagi – who will be played by the Predator.

And finally, the evening opened and closed with Lyric Intensive’s take on that old SNL favorite – Lazy Sunday. Jon Stewart, friend, buddy, fellow alum, we think you did an admirable job bringing the funny, but for your fake “commercials,” can you say you wrote / recorded / mixed / filmed / storyboarded / edited / and produced them yourself? That’s how we roll (WHERE!) at the Oscar Party. Much more on this part of the festivities later in the week.

Last year’s recap had the final standings, and we’d be remised to omit them now. Congratulations to Katie Ferri aka Ferriots of Fire, for being the OP III Champ.

Name // No. Correct // Total Points // Last Year’s Finish
1. FERRIots of Fire // 18 // 50 // 25th
2. ANDERSEN’s Agreement // 17 // 49 // 3rd
T-3. French CONDONection // 17 // 48 // 8th
T-3. Sound of MOODY // 16 // 48 // 21st
T-3. MAZER vs. MAZER // 16 // 48 // 7th
T-6. SPUDler’s List // 16 // 47 // 1st
T-6. Lawrence of SARAbia // 16 // 47 // --
8. Driving Miss KATIE // 16 // 46 // 4th
9. JACQUESy // 15 // 45 // 12th
10. Forrest GRIMMp // 14 // 43 // 9th
11. NORD of the Rings // 12 // 41 // 6th
12. West Side SUSIE // 13 // 38 // --
13. aMATTIAS // 14 // 37 // 13th
T-14. Greatest SHARPE on Earth // 13 // 36 // --
T-14. Mrs. MiniVIEHWEG // 13 // 36 // 18th
T-14. Million DARKER Baby // 12 // 36 // --
17. KIDDnight Cowboy // 11 // 31 // 17th
18. One Flew Over the MEKO’s Nest // 11 // 29 // 11th
19. All is Quiet on the MASTERn Front // 7 // 22 // --
20. My Fair LIGGETT // 5 // 12 // 19th

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Leg Set to Vibrate?

Once in a while, my boss will find that he’s got too many things on his plate to handle for the day. As the Deputy Controller, this affects me directly. Why? Because this gives him opportunity to step up and spin the old WHEEL OF DELEGATION.

(And yet, Pat Sajak is nowhere to be found.)

Whatever it lands on is what I get to do. For the most part, most wedges on the wheel are pretty mundane – cost analyses, systems analyses, break-even ratio analyses – hmm, I sense a trend here – and I have no problem stepping up and doing them. But as he had been inundated with meetings this week, the wheel was spun and it looks like I was to be pinch hitting in Finance’s spot in the order of a 2 hour sales pitch from one of our vendors. Eech.

This particular vendor is one we already employ to do many of our mail, reception, and conference center operations in our various corporate locations. They do good work and this is no way a presentation to try and save their jobs. No, this is a presentation about how they can sell us more business. But the sales pitch came across like we’ve never even heard of them. Confused?

What if this was a street vendor, like the guys out by Foggy Bottom in DC. You’ve been buying a hot dog on the way to the Metro every day for the last three years. You like the hot dog, it makes a good snack. But one day out of nowhere, the vendor tries to explain to you how delicious the hot dog is. In addition, he tells you how much better this hot dog can be, if you would like ketchup or mustard on it. He’s even got a 2 hour Power Point presentation to convince you to buy the hot dog that you were going to purchase anyway. When that’s all said and done, you just shrug, buy the hot dog as is and head on your way.

Did somebody mention food?

What was so great about this particular meeting that it has so warranted a Friday late-afternoon blogging session? The two hour sales pitch was from 11-1, and the vendor was so kind as to CATER it. That’s right – free food. As the caterer showed up about 40 minutes into the presentation with trays of sandwiches, salad, cookies, and drinks, my mouth began to water.

Remind me to take the WHEEL OF DELEGATION out for happy hour. This assignment rules!

But what goes up in Karma-land, must come down.

At a good stopping point, the vendor agreed that we should take five to prepare our plates and then return to the presentation. And in full kiss-up mode, he was gracious and insisted the clients dine first. (Read: Us.) As a readjusted in my seat and said “Thank You,” I realized one fateful monkeywrench in this plan.

My leg was asleep.

I’m not talking just a numbness in my foot. I’m talking top-to-bottom-groin-to-toe, pulsating, uneasy, pins-and-or-needles, pain engulfing the entire extremity. If I got up then and there, I guarantee you I’d be face first on the floor in 2.4 seconds. What does one do in such a situation? Deny the vendor’s graciousness? Go without lunch? Panic at the disco?

You fake a cell phone call.

As if the vibrating of my entire leg was a prophecy, I picked up my phone and talked for 45 seconds until I regained feeling. The call had to be urgent enough to keep me from getting up but not too urgent that they would think I would have to exit immediately. If you are ever in a similar situation, I suggest this. Works like a charm.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Decision Points and the Un-Cola

Last night, the nightcap of my Wednesday class doubleheader was called early. Was it rain, you may ask? Nay. New Venture Initiation is held indoors in a brand new building, and canceling the session on account of internal precipitation would force students to question the advent of the apocalypse, much less the integrity of the architectural design. No, class at 8:10 PM ended no later than 8:27 PM when our professor’s scheduled guest speaker was a no show.

An entire period’s agenda: WIPED OUT.

From the view of the professor, this could erupt into a complete calamity without a swift course of action. Due to an outside problem (the guest speaker was sitting in her stalled Buick on I-395), this leader of students now has to come up with a contingency plan and fast. The guest speaker in a graduate school setting is like the professor phoning it in. Let someone else instruct the great minds of tomorrow while you sit in the back row with your legs up on the desk and daydreaming that you could be watching the new episode of Lost instead of “working hard for the money.”

From the view of the student, this is also a crossroads. Learning is a priority, sure, otherwise you would not have enrolled in grad school. But the possibility of having school canceled because the aforementioned prof was caught off-guard is just as an attractive an option. Did I mention rain earlier? Hell, this would be a regular snow day. And in a week preparing for Oscar Party III, I wouldn’t mind in the least if we were dismissed 93 minutes early.

This is a possibility because we all have free will to come and go as we please. When class is over, the school day is over. The professor knows that his decision to teach or to cancel will directly determine how much school is left on this cold, windy Wednesday. This is why I nearly jumped out of my seat when he threw his hands up in helplessness and announced:

Class is over.

But what if this had been elementary school? I’m not saying that elementary school teachers brought in guest speakers or phoned it in, but rather I am pointing out the different circumstances. Imagine if Mrs. Hammer in 5th grade just dismissed us at 11am? 18 kids would meander their way home with little sense of direction or actual chance of making it before their little legs tired out. That’s why they had contingency plans: in-class games.

There is one game that sticks out in my mind as being a classroom activity that definitely beat playing in traffic trying to find my house. Here’s a memory-lane recap. (And a secret hope that my professor is reading and will schedule it for next week.)

7-UP – This was the kid brother of Mafia. 7 kids go up to the front of the class. Everyone else puts their head down on the desk, with their thumb in the air. The Secret 7 then walk around the room and press down one thumb each, with as much stealth and secrecy as a 10 year-old can muster, and then return to the front of the room. When everyone’s back up front, everyone else wakes up and tried to guess who (if anyone) gave their thumb a smackdown. Guess right? You go up front. Guess wrong? Stay where you are, and give whoever you guessed paranoia about why you think they picked you.

This game freakin’ ruled.

You know what? Forget Oscar Party III. We’re just playing a 7-Up marathon. Good night, and good luck. Heads down. Thumbs up.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Screw you, Ruby!

Because this Tuesday belongs to IHOP.

Tomorrow morning, the world will wake up to Ash Wednesday, which signifies the beginning of the Lenten season on the Christian calendar. As the clock strikes midnight tonight, many around the globe will participate in various forms of fasting, withholding, and penance, meaning many of the luxuries they are accustomed to will not be seen again until after Easter. YAB has thought long and hard about what it will give up as a hard-hitting divertainment webpage. And since we are weak-willed, we have finally settled on the following:

During Lent, YAB will not use the tilde (~) key on the keyboard. Phew. That’s a sacrifice for the ages.

But it is not yet Ash Wednesday, so we will also recognize today’s significance: it’s Fat Tuesday! (Even so, we will withhold a tilde explosion for syntax-sake.)

Yet, let’s dig a little deeper into the customs of Fat Tuesday. Of course, it signifies the end to Mardi Gras, Carnival, and the NHL’s Olympic work stoppage. Many of the vices and comforts that will be locked away come Lent enjoy a final 24 hours of gluttony on this day. In the olden days, (let’s say 15th century for all you historiphiles), milk and eggs were two items were given up for Lent.

(Secretly, cows and chickens LOVE Lent. It’s like their annual vacation.)

But as tradition would have it in many European countries, all of the milk and eggs would have to be used up on this Tuesday, since it would no doubt not last the entire 40+ days (Spam would have been another story.) So on the day before Ash Wednesday, the best way to blow through all of your remaining stock would be to make a dish that would require both in great quantities.

Pancakes.

As it is known in many countries, today is also Pancake Tuesday. And pancake market leader IHOP isn’t sleeping on the built-in marketing opportunity. If you go to your local International House, you can get a free short stack of ‘cakes on this day only. It is a well-know fact that IHOP as a chain gives up “cleaning the sticky syrup containers” for Lent, so you better get there fast.

IHOP as an establishment has always been a source of high comedy, and we’re not quite sure why. Sure, there was our
story about how a bunch of older people hightailed it to the Manassas franchise back in June. But just think of the diplomacy involved with such an establishment. The United Nations has spent over 50 years trying to get everybody on the same page, but Security Council abstentions often divide and shatter the tenuous agreements of cooperation. There is no such strife at IHOP. Belgian waffles are totally cool with being on a serving tray with Swedish pancakes and French toast. And while we have no idea where the hell Rooty-Tooty-Fresh-and-Fruity hails from, we’re proud that more food fights haven’t broken out over boundaries, borders, or butter knives.

So on this Shrove/Fat/Pancake Tuesday, we here at YAB take off our collective caps and salute the banner of the international diplomacy organization that has created breakfast table peace and observes the sacred traditions of the Lenten season.


IHOP, we who are about to eat, salute you!

Friday, February 03, 2006

Four Hundred.

Blog Rule #13: A recurring bit only remains a recurring bit if you allow the bit to be recurring.

Every 100 posts, we toss in this quiz of the prior century. Each time, the wiseguys in the YAB Marketing Department promise those who complete the quite all the luxuries in life: fame, glory, legend, free t-shirts. Now the YAB T-Shirt Mill still remains on the shelf due to a lack of starter capital. The money we’ve got; it’s the cost of time we have yet to be able to afford. So as the order list increases with each new winner, our IOU’s grow longer. But the next hundred (The March to 500!) will see the end of GRAD SCHOOL and the return of a life more ordinary. (Oh, and for historical bookkeeping sake, we’re a massive 16 off the pace. Not good at all.)

You have until the actual March 3rd to email your answers to
condon@gwu.edu.


  1. What two letters did YAB manage to avoid using when writing a mid-season post on the Philadelphia Eagles? (1)
  2. In BCE Chapter 8, who was hired on to be YAB’s legal representation? (1)
  3. What was Condon’s percentage correct with this year’s Cond-nominations? (1)
  4. Where does Chris keep his alarm clock in moments of temporary insanity? (1)
  5. What is my name as per the Holy Sacrament of Truncation? (1)
  6. Who are the only two current cast members of SNL that made YAB’s Top Ten of All-Time? (2)
  7. Name three different statements I made in honor of New Year’s (hint: a resolution is not one of them) (2)
  8. What two people did Nordberg “mistake” to be brothers of Warren Buffett in his Omaha-cast interview? (2)
  9. What word caused YAB great surprise (since Condon has never used it before) while also striking fear into the heart of Mr. Philbin? (2)
  10. Name two of the starting 5 on YAB’s Fantasy Knives team. (2)
  11. What 3 foreign languages were employed in our “Lost in Translation” story of a Liz Grimm dinner party with dead folks? (3)
  12. What’s the REAL reason Senators push for filibustering? (3)
  13. What two items did I take with me when exiting the building during a freshmen year fire drill? (3)
  14. What is the name of the group of people who wait until midnight to start long road trips to avoid traffic? (3)
  15. What caused the DONUT STAMPEDE? (3)
  16. What was the nickname given to the fool who threw his friend’s shoe out of the Metro doors on the way to a U2 concert (while Condon went to class)? (4)
  17. What childhood figure is actually America’s secretive method of training young America to vote? (4)
  18. How much must a starter salad cost to know if you are eating a fancy lunch? (4)
  19. What was the name of the attacker who I thought Tim Fischer attacked on a track bus back in high school, only to later find out it was me who attacked him? (4)
  20. Where was the Colonial Williamsburg cooper re-enactor actually from? (4)

Thursday, February 02, 2006

I'm Feeling Very Olympic Today, 2006

The YABNews team has very few correspondents on hand. While reputable news programs like CBS Evening News and the Daily Show seem to have resident experts on any topic at their complete beck and call. We have no such budget, and therefore no such laundry list of contacts. But as exhibited when YAB and YABNews were just 19 posts young, it turns out that on our speed dial we’ve still got our correspondent for all things Olympic. So without further ado, once again YAB is proud to present our guest blogger live for Torino: YODA.

Because Yoda hates column-style, he returns with an ’06 Games round of quick-hitters.

  • Upon us are the Winter Olympics they are. What with them do they bring, hmm? Adventure? Heh. Excitement? Heh. A Jedi craves not these things. Condon is reckless. But only 3 feet tall am I. The remote on the kitchen counter he keeps. Cannot reach and forced to watch I am. Hmm. Yes.
  • Remember when I was in Olympics I do. Hoth in 1980. Was very cold, but wore Wookie fur at the Opening Ceremonies I did. Not flattering on a Jedi, Wookie fur. But more fashionable than weird mascots I find. Look like the offspring of a Rancor and a stormtrooper.
  • Bode Miller has much to lean in the ways of Medaling. Powerful he has become, yet the dark side I sense in him. Once he starts down the dark path, forever it will dominate his destiny, consume him it will. Disqualifications, turned ankles, slow result times, Bode has much to learn. The dark side has compelled him, made its mark it has. A Bodeist, Yoda is not. But there is another.
  • Bode has not a sister, but a teammate. Julia Mancuso shows great promise in the Force. Won the Giant Slalom she has. But make her a Princess, does that? No matter, Yoda has vision of Julia with a tiara. Silly-looking she is. Like the time I accidentally dropped an X-Wing on Master Luke’s foot. Laughed for many hours we did. *Nordberg does a masterful impression of my laugh. Ask him you must.*
  • Pete Fenson is Yoda’s new hero. Curling is a game that can be played at any age, even 900 as I am. A bronze medal the Americans have earned. Now they must spread knowledge they have to the young Padawans, the women. Much potential have they. Hope one can they will be come wise in the Force, use it for good and for awesome. (Channeled Strong Bad, Yoda just did.)
  • American hockey not a disappointment, contrary to many in the galaxy’s beliefs. Not expected to medal they were not. Transition year it has been. Young prospects they are hopeful for, as Jabba the Hutt shall play goal in 2010. Bigger shock it is to Canada to be gone as of now. Lost to Switzerland they did in the round robin. Major upset the Maple Leafs have fallen to. Unmatched since rebel force destroyed an empire.
  • In closing, Yoda has been very happy with the Olympics. Always watching I am, as Dagobah now gets NBC in HD. Have to sign off, as bobsled is today. Rooting for the Jawas I will be, who have hollowed out R2-D2 as a sled.

Note: Outside the Trilogy, Yoda ‘s favorite flick is Cool Runnings. We here at YABNews hoped you enjoyed our guest blogger. He meant you no harm.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Jersey, Here I Come

At work, our team is largely responsible for managing the finances of various corporate facilities up and down the east coast. Most of the buildings aren’t very sexy or interesting – several are of that 1-level sprawling office building that belongs in a industrial business park. For most of us most of the time, what parts of the portfolio we individually analyze is not a big deal. Since site visits are extremely rare, an assignment of Reston, Virginia is just as good as Orlando, Florida. (You just hope that the latter has more mice than the former.)

But with a new fiscal year upon us, Corporate Real Estate has taken on some more locations. And sure enough, the finances of said sites have fallen to those brave souls in McLean, VA. Us. So in some twisted form of Christmas, the gifts of new locales were distributed around the team. With eager anticipation, I unwrapped my new facility gift and to much surprise, I actually was excited to see what lay within.

State: New Jersey

Ok, so that’s a good sign. A Garden Stater taking care of one of its own. I like the sound of that. But I know better than to be blindly optimistic. There’s a lot of places in NJ that I’d rather not think about (pretty much anything above Trenton). And I don’t want a repeat of thinking when I was handed the Vienna property, I would pack my bags for Austria. So I guess I should just read the town’s name already, eh?

Town: Red Bank

Red Bank, New Jersey is famous for one and one thing only – being the center of the ViewAskewniverse. Director Kevin Smith has centered 5 of his 6 movies in this small South Jersey town, and created a laundry list of characters so unique and quotable that he was able to turn Clerks into a
sequel-worthy flick. Well, guess what Mr. Svennig, you’ve got a new neighbor: Me.

Now the field of facility management is not a glory road by any means. But then again, most of the characters from Smith’s movies don’t really appear to be headed for lifestyles of the rich and/or famous anytime soon. For the most part, these slackers have spent their days milling at convenience stores, trolling the local mall, “tracing” comic books, playing roller hockey on the roof, and even finding time to stop demented angels bent on a holy crusade. But these lots in life have been worth something: comedy. And it is with comedy in mind that I’ve decided to make some personnel recommendations to the higher ups in my company on how to staff our new Red Bank facility operation.

Facility Manager: Brodie Bruce – By far the best choice, Mr. Bruce knew the mall like it was his own bedroom. He lived, ate, drank, and breathed that place. I’d expect him to gain the same affinity for this new work location. And good news, Brodie. Our facility doesn’t have any escalators.
Building Engineer: You need someone handy here, since a building is only as sound as the person maintaining it here. While not a Red Bank local, God has been known to frequent Red Bank (as captured in Dogma) and can restore complete disaster with the best of them.
Receptionist: Silent Bob – Most receptionists annoy me because they are either 1) overly chatty, 2) are on the phone on some personal call while you wait patiently at the desk, or 3) make small talk when you’re just out front to wait for a colleague to come through the door. Not a problem with Silent Bob. Hell, he can even buzz you in with a Jedi mind trick.
Security: Who else but the Mallrat security guard, LeFours. Intimidating as hell in that rice cake hat, and I even heard he’s got 3 kills.

Dear God – if you want to not accept this very attractive offer as building engineer, this lowly human totally understand. I can force someone else (Jay?) to do it. I just figured you had prior experience (the Great Flood, the Plagues, that building in Bruce Almighty…)