How to Make a White Car Red

Not all Samaritans are good. Some are just indecisive.

I firmly believe that everyone deep down inside has inherent desire to do good. I remember in high school we had a unit in World Cultures where we debated the platforms of famous philosophers (yes, the unit that spawned the John Locke video), and the first litmus test was whether or not “Man is inherently good” or “Man is inherently evil.” Of course, I had World Cultures right before lunchtime, therefore my only contribution was “Man is inherently hungry.”

I wasn’t much help, in retrospect.

I was driving into work this morning, on my usual route in my usual car listening to my usual radio station. It should have been like any other morning drive – killing time keeping track of how many lights I make (I shoot for 70%) – and even though I was running a little bit late, there was no need to panic. However, I did notice that even a 10 minute delay in my commute brings forth a completely different set of traffic conditions. There are different cars and different traffic light patterns to contend with.

And as it turns out, this breed of fellow commuters are stupider.

On a route like downtown Vienna’s Chain Bridge Road, you have to accept the fact that the road is lined with retail businesses. And with retail businesses, cars are going to exit and enter Chain Bridge whether you like it or not. Let them in; for one day you will need to be let in. You never know when you might be in need of an early bird hair styling or key duplication.

Or a drink.

Such was the case of the driver of a white Pontiac Sunfire (I don't know but it's white!) I followed to work this morning. He made his pit stop at 7-11, and then pulled out onto Chain Bridge, as I was kind of enough to allow him to do so. His car had few distinguishing marks, other than a Virginia Tech sticker in the back window. Oh yeah, one other thing.

THREE BEVERAGES ON THE ROOF.

Yes, the driver who was probably inside his car enjoying a hot cup of coffee managed to forget to bring 2 Slurpees and another coffee inside the vehicle. And as he amazingly made the transition from parking lot to roadway without loss of liquid, I now stood at an ethical crossroads. But before I could cross said roads, let’s ask a few quick questions.

• What distracted this guy so much that forget about three beverages that he had placed on the roof??? I assume he had to put them down to fish his keys out of his pocket. Or perhaps someone called his cell phone and upon answering it he forgot? These weren’t in one of those fancy cardboard cup carriers either, which means he had to go through a great deal to get them from the counter to the car. Clearly, this man has no short-term memory.
• Oh yeah. Who gets a Slurpee for breakfast?

Anyways, back to my crux. I followed this car for one block, and nothing fell from the roof of his car. Should I tell him that he’s got copious amounts of refreshment up above or watch in amazement as momentum is no foe to misplaced 7-11 drinks?

Here's the thing - even if I wanted to be a Good Samaritan and let him know of his impending doom, what could I possibly do? There's no special honk that my horn can emit that means, "Dude, you totally left your drinks on top of your car." Nor do I know Morse Code to inform him via headlight. (By the time I got through that whole phrase, I'm sure he'd assume I'm a psycho, anyway.) And there's no way I'm getting out of this car - the minute the light turns green, I'm everyone's worst enemy. And why should I be a martyr for this Hokie's idiocy?

Look, I don't want to be a hero, but if I'm going to do this next time, I demand a finder's fee. I want one of the Slurpees to myself. Is that fair?

(Postscript: For those who actually care how this ended, the guy realized his horrible mistake two traffic lights later when one of the Slurpees rolled down his windshield. Rather than get out of the car to rescue the two remaining items, he rolled down his window and felt around the roof, proceeding to knock the other two over in the process. You stay classy, Sunfire.)

What's Next? Ewok Policemen?

Looking to track a package from Amazon the other day, I stumbled onto something. Something big. Something that happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

Over the years, Lucasfilm’s Star Wars series has been supreme ruler of the movie merchandising kingdom. From the highly lucrative Kenner action figures from the early eighties to the Star Wars Pepsi cans of ’99, a lot of product has been sold just because the Force may or may not be packaged with it. (I still have my set at my parents’ house in Jersey – Smith’s, I believe have since gone off like a carbonated fireworks display.)

And even though the final prequel is in our rearview (by two years), it appears that George Lucas is having trouble paying his power bill. (Rumor has it he flies a electric X-Wing, and that will kill you every time.) How do we know this? Because he’s fired up his cross-promotion light saber, and this time, he’s teaming up with the U.S. Postal Service.

Former spokesman Lance Armstrong did not immediately return a phone call.

When you go to the USPS homepage, important information like “Send Direct Mail” and how to have your mail held while on vacation are obscured from view. Why? Because R2-D2 is taking his wicked sweet time crossing your computer screen. He’s in no hurry to make it to his final destination: the banner on the page that proudly declares: Two Powerful Forces Unite!

No, not UPS and FedEx.

Look, I’m a big fan of living in a country that has its own government-owned postal service. This is something I have no problem paying taxes for. I know there has been recent criticism that with the improvement of private mailing firms and the Internet, postal correspondence is on the decline. Look, I do my part by churning through Netflix movies. Apparently, that’s not enough. The USPS has called in the big guns.

Why they all put on orange jumpsuits for this staff meeting is beyond me.

After doing a little research, I found the first step of what Star Wars plans on doing for the United States Postal Service. In about 400 nationwide locations, this will be replaced by this. The R2-D2 mailbox will perform the same mail collection duties its non-droid predecessor did. However, if your expecting it to make cool beeping sounds upon acceptance of mail, you’ll be sadly mistaken. (Just make the sounds to yourself. We won’t laugh.)

However, we here at YAB have to question their choice of droid for such an important task. Does anyone remember the first time we saw R2-D2 try and deliver mail? It was a letter from a L. Organa and address to a B. Kenobi, and it had a simple message. There was probably a whole lot more, but a certain member of the Rebel Alliance Postal Service damaged the letter in transit. It was unclear, incomplete, and well, repetitive. Sure, one could argue that not snow nor rain nor ice nor Empire Destroyer could stop the mail from getting through; however, if its damaged in transit, can we really be happy with the service we’ve paid for? It’s R2-D2’s fault. It seems to me that C-3PO would make a much better mail carrier. God, he could even translate correspondence using his fluency in 6 million forms of communication – what a bonus! Look, I like what the USPS is trying to do here. I just have a problem with the hiring practices.

Here is my list of Top Three Star Wars Characters I’d Like to Be My Mailman

1. Chewbacca – no dog is going to bother him.
2. Obi-Wan Kenobi – A true Jedi mind. “This is not the junk mail you’re looking for.”
3. Imperial Scout Trooper – God, what a sweet ride for a mail truck.

YABDome, anyone?

In a move likely caused to divert attention from the fact they may actually put Sammy Sosa on their opening day roster, the Texas Rangers have laughed in the face of corporate funding and decided to rename their stadium “Rangers Ballpark in Arlington.” Previously Ameriquest Field, the Ballpark will no longer be known to fans as a random institution of financial services, much less one that’s headed for the tank in a number of years.

Good for you, Texas Rangers. Walker would be proud.

Yes, it’s a sad reality that there aren’t more of these naming rights buybacks happening, but hey, money talks. When the Flyers and Sixers built a new stadium in the mid-nineties, Comcast-Spectacor offered up the naming rights for an additional source of revenue. CoreStates took the lead, only to be bought by First Union. And when it was time to change the name from the CoreStates Center to the First Union National Center, Flyers winger Brant Myhres objected. There’s no way he could get into a hockey fight in a place known as the FUN Center. And like that, the National was 86’ed.

The Philly sports complex is now the banking district of the Eastern Seaboard. You’ve got Lincoln Financial Field, the Wachovia Center, and of course, Citizens Bank Park. Hopefully, this era of financial prosperity will translate into a championship soon. Please?

The Kids in Philly may have nothing to complain about when it comes to naming rights, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t stupidly-named stadiums elsewhere in the 4 major sports. The worst ten follow here.

10. Dolphins Stadium – Florida Marlins (MLB) – This is a great, great name for the Marlins’ locker room neighbors, the Miami Dolphins. There’s no corporate overlord and it tells it like it is. However, it’s a little embarrassing to be playing in a stadium named for an entirely different pro sports franchise. Plus, a marlin and a dolphin are different species of underwater creature. They don’t even like to make eye contact at parties.

9. Rogers Centre – Toronto Blue Jays (MLB) – I have no problem with the name Rogers, nor do I protest at the silly British way of spelling Center. However, if I hadn’t let you know that this was Toronto, you’d have no idea 1) who plays here or 2) if this a stadium or a collegiate academic complex. What was so bad about calling it the SkyDome? Way to ruin sports, Canada.

8. LP Field – Tennessee Titans (NFL) – Lousiana-Pacific Paper Company has stepped up and bought the naming rights from Adelphia, who needs some spare cash to stop at Taco Bell for dinner on the way home from their bankruptcy proceedings. However, the Libertarian Party and Linkin Park are totally cool with the free advertising, too.

7. PETCO Park – San Diego Padres (MLB) – Does it bother anyone else that PETCO doesn’t actually sell pets, but rather mere pet supplies? You have no idea how many times I’ve driven by one of these stores and wanted to play with some puppies, only to end up playing with a 50 lb. bag of dog food. Somehow, I feel that San Diego could have held out for a stronger corporate sponsor that doesn’t remind their fans of bird cages and chew toys.

6. Rose Garden Arena – Portland Trailblazers (NBA) – Where would you rather play hoops? In Madison Square Garden or a Rose Garden? Ladies…

5. Minute Maid Park – Houston Astros (MLB) – In another showcase of who’s the inferior cola bottling company, Coke ponied up the cash to rename Enron Field after a certain multi-billion dollar corporation got busted for, well, everything financially possible. And what did they do? They named the ‘Stros’ field after their middling orange soda. Meanwhile Pepsi put its flagship brand on the Pepsi Center, home of the Colorado Avalanche. Figures.

4. Quicken Loans Arena – Cleveland Cavaliers (NBA) – Every time LeBron James scores 30 points in a game, you get to take home a free mortgage calculator. Rock.

3. Amway Arena – Orlando Magic (NBA) – How would you feel as a Magic fan over the past ten years? You’ve had two of the greatest NBA talents on your team in Shaquille O’Neal and Tracy McGrady, only to watch them go elsewhere to compete for NBA titles. Penny Hardaway was a bust, and it’s only a matter of time before Dwight Howard signs with Charlotte and torments you in your own division for the next six years. Yeah, I’d feel like my playoff hopes were being placed with a fishy operation, too.

2. University of Phoenix Stadium – Arizona Cardinals (NFL) – Yes, a university who lacks their own football team (and their own campus, for that matter) has found enough scratch to name the Arizona Cardinals’ new digs. If I were a student at said university, methinks I’d protest a bit about the level of tuition at this point, no?

1. Jobing.com Arena – Phoenix Coyotes (NHL) – Who is Jo Bing? Why does he have a website? Where did he come up with the money to name the Coyotes’ rink?
a. It’s actually pronounced (job-bing).
b. It’s a job search webpage.
c. By selling Amway products.

122 Minutes to Go...

Yes, last week we wasted your time by preaching about how March Madness doesn’t waste your time. In our research on said topic, we came upon this interesting article, and decided it was important information that you all should know. Or at the very least, it was important information that we all should mock. Eh, same difference around here.

According to a survey that was conducted in tandem by Salary.com and AOL (the former a guru’s guide to worker’s compensation and the latter being the Rich Kotite of internet service providers), the average worker spends 2.09 hours out their 8-hour workday not actually doing work. I know what you’re thinking – “What if I work more than 8 hours a day, does that mean I’m being more productive?” No, Slackerman, you’re just wasting a comparable ratio amount of time. A 9-hour workday yields 2.35 hours of wasted time. A 10-hour day gives you 2.62 hours to space out. An 11-hour day? Good God, man. Go home already. Your dinner is cold.

2.09 hours may seem like a strange, non-standard way to measure time, so I’ll take one for the team and do the calculation. (scratches head) (carries the 2) (checks his work) (declares himself a math god)

That’s 2 hours, 5 minutes, and 24 seconds.

What does this mean? In order to stay on par with the rest of America, you need to waste 2 hours and 5 minutes of this workday. Any more, and I’ll sign you up for the Penske file. Any less, and I’ll make sure your co-workers snicker and call you a teacher’s pet.

But Condon, however will I waste so much time? Good question, hypothetical reader query guy! I’ll give you 4 choices as to how to waste 2 hours and 5 minutes.

1.) Watch Mrs. Doubtfire in entirety.
2.) Watch Batman and Robin in entirety.
3.) Watch Ocean’s 12 in entirety.
4.) Split the time evenly as per the national averages.

Yes, the article goes on to breakout how their survey takers spend their work time when it’s not time for work. Using simple logic, one can fathom that these percentages aren’t just the answers’ varying levels of popularity – no, no. We will assume that each American worker does ALL of these during the day, and the pie chart of 100% can be applied to the 2 hours and 5 minutes of playtime.

Confused? Keep reading.

1. Surfing the Internet accounts for 44.7% of the time people waste. That would amount to 56 minutes of the 125. Seem high? Yeah, it might be. But remember this about the Internet. Consider the time you spend here, checking your Gmail, watching YouTube, reading the news, looking at box scores, shopping for grills from pro baseball players, and other miscellaneous Yahoo! Searches, I’m sure that time goes by fast.
2. Socializing with Co-workers for 23.4%? That’s 29 minutes. Ah, the all-important water cooler talk. When will you people stopping shooting the breeze about the weather and weekend plans and instead actually discuss the mechanics and artistry of the actual water cooler? A truly unappreciated office fixture.
3. Conducting personal business for 8 minutes? Whether it’s scheduling a doctor’s appointment for the kid, paying your bills online, or running a counterfeit jeans ring out of your car-hole, it’s good you have a little “me time.”
4. Spacing Out – 3.9% means 5 minutes of staring at the wall. For 1 of those minutes you’re contemplating why you’ve never put anything on that wall, and the other 4 you have that song from Tetris stuck in your head. Good for you.
5. Running errands off-premise – 2.3%? 3 minutes? Sure, if your dry cleaner set up shop just outside the lobby and you’re a world-class sprinter. Totally feasible. (Note: are Spandex bodysuits dry clean only?)
6. Applying for other jobs – 1.625 minutes. Ah, 1 minute and 37 seconds dreaming of greener pastures. God, you have a short attention span.
7. Planning Personal Events – 1% = 1 minute and 15 seconds. This is why Evite was invented.
8. Other – 13.5% - Hey, who are we to tell you what to do with the last 17 minutes? Eat something. You look famished.

Bird is the Word

Maybe I should move my desk into a tree.

After all, the air is probably a little fresher up there, I can enjoy the cool breeze in my hair, and get a little exercise by merely climbing up to the branch from which I could conduct business. On the other hand, my co-workers would be replace by unhelpful squirrels, there’s a chance that if I drop a folder it could sail down onto Leesburg Pike, and my phone cord probably won’t reach from the building. Why would I suggest such a ludicrous thing? Well, someone has to restore the balance, right?

During the work week, a line in the sand is drawn. Human beings are the only creatures that belong in office buildings. All the rest of God’s creation must dwell beyond the walls of commerce and industry and wait to play with/torment/get hit by the cars of humans on the weekends. Look, that’s just the way of the world, you stupid bird. Why can’t you understand that?

Our cafeteria downstairs provides a two-storied collection of tables and chairs for lunchgoers that actually leave their desks to take their mid-day meal. It also provides napkins for those who forgot to pack some in their lunch. And now, inexplicably, it provides a safe haven from the cold for a stupid bird.

Yes, just about the moment when I was to turn the corner and turn my back on this crime-on-humanity, I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Up on the second level of the café, a small black bird was flew from end-to-end and perched itself on the window that if sullied, probably would never be washed.

And the people continued their business as if nothing happened.

Look, I’ve never quite understood the purpose of indoor birds. I think most frequently this phenomenon occurs in shopping malls. Just like strangely-placed trees, birds tend to inhabit the upper echelons of the mall’s rafters, and no one seems to care. They’re just another part of the shopping atmosphere, like the smell of Cinnabon or John Mayer music on the sound system. People, this is not where birds belong! You’re doing me a disservice by allowing these skyrats to air-raid my merchandise, and you’re doing them a disservice by denying them the blue sky of freedom.

But back to our Café du Bird.

I wish I could tell you that some exotic, cool avian friend had broken into the building (I didn’t see him wearing a security badge), but alas, this was your run-of-the-mill black bird. It wasn’t a raven, which would have made those who frequented the cafeteria ponder their descent into madness. It wasn’t an eagle that could have instilled some patriotic fervor into their lunch conversation. It wasn’t a toucan that could insist to them they follow their nose for cereal goodness. And it wasn’t a penguin – they all live in the mailroom.

And how exactly does a bird actually make it undetected to the cafeteria? There’s really only a few entrances into our building, and most of them require you to take an elevator up a few floors to get to the lobby. What would you do if you opened the elevator and saw a menacing bird of prey standing patiently in the middle of the elevator floor? Would you go in, guaranteeing a claustrophobic showdown harkening back to the days of Jurassic Park? Would you offer the bird your newspaper, knowing that he’ll probably use it as a toilet rather than check how he did in the stock market yesterday?

And yet, everyone remains calm.

Hitchcock, you warned me of days like these.