Saturday, June 28, 2008

Brother, can you spare $20, $40, or another multiple of $20 from your checking account?

Just a quick post about the ever-increasing sophistication used by those people formerly known as "bums" but whom I will now give proper respect by referring to them as "Geniuses in the art of panhandling" or "Gips" (pronounced "jip")for short. 

My bro Ryno was in D.C. a few weeks back, and, being from Utah Valley where there aren't so many gips, he was unprepared for the assault. Walking back to his hotel one night, a pack of sophisticated Gips approached him. (I am seeing some pack of hyenas chasing a lame zebra in my head right now). One asked Ryno "Do you have a couple of bucks I can use?"  to which Ryno foolishly replied "I don't have any cash on me right now." The gip simply pointed to the ATM machine nearby, and informed Ryno how he could go ahead and pull cash out right there for him. Ryno actually obliged, forever bringing shame upon himself. Anyhow, Ryno developed a pretty effective technique for dealing with gips the next time. He will simply use their own ploy back at them. Next time someone asks him for some cash, he will reply "Gosh, my mother, father, and Dad are all in the hospital right now with scabies, and can't afford the cream they need to get rid of it. Can you spare some cash?" This usually makes the gip flee. 

Hecka Stupid

For those who don't know, California is culturally divided into "So Cal" (Southern California) and "No-Cal" or "Nor-Cal" (Northern California. I think the dividing line is somewhere around Bakersfield, but as a transplant to the state, I'm not a respected authority on the subject). That being said, I wish to comment on an annoying phenomenon spreading around No-Cal: the use of the prefix "hecka" in front of another word. An example is "hecka delicious." Apparently, "hecka" is a sanitized version of "hella" itself a shortened version of "helluva" which itself is a condensed version of "hell of a." If you extrapolate the phrase "hecka delicious" it makes no sense. You wouldn't, for example, say "hell of a delicious" by itself, without some subject behind it. You could, for example, say that was one "hell of a delicious pie," although the person who baked the pie might feel awkward at hearing that. Still, it would make more sense that just saying, after eating the pie, "hecka delicious."

Now, where I'm from, the word "hell" is one of the low-dose cuss words. If the F-word was Oxycotin or Vicodin, "hell" is more of children's Tylenol, candy coated or something. Thus, there really is no need for the use of "hecka." In fact, the acceptance of "hecka" into the vernacular of children up here in No-Cal could actually be detrimental to their vocabularies. Just as marijuana is a gateway drug to stronger more potent narcotics, the use of "hecka" can equally lead to the use of "fetchin," "freakin," or "shiz," which everyone knows are only a few letters off from the really bad words. I actually have a brother who has mastered the intricate uses of all the nearly cuss words. He can use beeotch, ace-hole, fetchin, freakin, shiz, shiz-nit, and any other combination of "almost said it but I didn't" swear words to get his point across. Of course, once in a while a real word can slip out, but then he can say "I was trying to say shiz, but it came out wrong." 

Anyway,  I get a little annoyed every time I hear hecka, or hella, for that matter. Then I remembered the words I said ad nauseam when I was a child. I used to say "dud" all the time. Examples: "Kory can't hit a baseball very far, he is a dud."  "The Cubs stink, they are duds." 
"John, you are a dude without the e." (I thought that was so clever). Imagine how perplexed we were when we lit a firecracker that wouldn't explode. We didn't know what to call it. We had no idea that "dud" is the proper term. 

I used to say "fag" like it was a term of endearment. "Jake is one smart little fag" or "Man, did you see Dave? Dude, that fag is fast!" I had no idea what the word fag actually meant. Sorry to all the guys I called fags when I was little. Hopefully, the label didn't stick. I'm hecka sorry.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

The Elder Brother's Influence

I was the oldest in my family, and for most of the time I was growing up, I had 3 younger brothers who followed me around and copied everything I did. This past week, I had a most interesting experience that manifested to me how much that influence continues to this day. 

A few weeks back, my younger brother "RJ" (I want to protect his identity) came out to Sacramento for an exam he needed to take for his job. He stayed with us for a couple of days, and I decided to copy all of the stuff from his Ipod. Yesterday, I decided to play "25 most played songs" on my Ipod, which included the songs RJ most often played on his. Here is the list of songs as they played, and how he got interested in them. 

1. "A Little Respect"-Erasure. I got into Erasure in the early 90's when I was on a Euro-pop/"they might be gay but their music is good" kick.  RJ definitely never heard of Erasure before he stole one of my CDs.

2.  "Por Ti Volare"-Andrea Bocelli. This didn't come from me. My guess it RJ got it from a woman, most likely his wife.

3. "Crash"-D.M.B.  I can't take credit for this one, as it was on the radio quite a bit when RJ was in that high school graduation phase of his life. 

4. "Freak on a Leash"-Korn. I never liked Korn. I think the name of the band is stupid, and they aren't that great of a band. Just because they had a video with a bullet going through crap doesn't make them a good band. RJ probably likes them because a bunch of his friends like them. 

5.  "The Scientist"-Coldplay. This is one of my favorite Coldplay songs, and its from my favorite Coldplay album "A Rush of Blood to the Head." I distinctly remember telling RJ about this great song I had stuck in my head, and then playing this song for him in my car. Your welcome, bro.

6. "Bridge Over Troubled Water"-Simon & Garfunkel. Simon & Garfunkel were always playing downstairs in my bedroom (next to RJ's) growing up, and he quickly fell in love with their musical genius. This song is actually way played out, but hearing it on my Ipod after so many years brought back some good ol memories. 

7. "If At First You Don't Succeed"-Aalyah. Definitely not from me. However, RJ and me have always been connected to R&B and Hip-Hop, ever since we was educated on the streets of Bloomington, eye-el, and started a freestyle rapping partnership that continues to this day. We cannot ride in a car together without busting out a couple of rhymes. This song here is a  good choice, bro. Some nice funky beats and cool, catchy hooks. 

8. "Wounded Knee"-Primus. I never got into Primus. Blame it on this weird "why should I have to shave my armpits if guys don't" girls I worked with back at Dairy Queen who spent lots of money on flannel shirts and long johns in order to look poor on purpose, and to fit in with the grungy crowds she was hanging with. She always was yapping about Primus and "Sailing the Seas of Cheese" and for that reason alone, I never wanted to listen to them. 

9. "Starry Eyed Surprise"-Paul Oakenfold. You know this song, the one with "Dance all night, dance all night to this D.J." in the chorus. Its alright, but it didn't make it into RJ's collection through my influence. 

10. "Wishin' and Hopin"-Ani DiFranko. Um, someone just flunked the litmus test for heterosexuality. Seriously, thats a song you listen to when and only when your with your wife, just after finishing a chick flick in order to keep things on the up and up. 

11. "Somebody"-Depeche Mode. Ok, seriously, I am getting a little disturbed. Sure, I like a lot of Depeche Mode, as any LDS guy who was alive during the late 80's early 90's and didn't have long hair and watch "Headbanger's Ball" can admit to. However, "Somebody" is one of those songs I just love to hate. Its for girls to like. A few weeks back, a couple of my guy friends sang every line of the song, in tune and with proper dynamics. A little awkward and disturbing. RJ, please tell me your wife listens to your Ipod a lot and thats why this song made the top 25 list. 

12. "Defying Gravity"-Wicked. I own the CD. Yeah, I know its ironic I make fun of "Somebody" but own Broadway Musical CDs. I'm not sure if I influenced this, since I'm sure my other brother RF is going to claim he knew this music way before I did and got RJ turned onto it. 

13. "The Prayer"-Celine Dion. NOT INFLUENCED BY TREVOR. 

14. "Como Dueles En Los Lablos"-Mana. This is a song RJ likes because its a Mexian group, and guess where RJ served his mission? Yep, Mexico. All RMs bring back a CD or two of the pop bands from their country. Kinda stinks if you serve stateside. "I got this cool CD from Wal-Mart on my last P-day. Some band called Snow Patrol. They have a cool sound." 

15. "Forever Live and Die"-O.M.D. This is totally Trevor influenced. I remember listening to this song in my 1975 Volvo 244 D.L. tank on wheels, with my portable CD player that hooked into the cassette player with the wired tape. I thought I was so cool because the CD player had a little remote I velcro'd onto the steering column. See, it was so difficult to reach another 6 inches down to where the actual CD player was to change the buttons. It was much easier to take the remote off the steering column, feel the buttons with my fingers, then hit "forward skip" or "reverse skip." Besides, I know I looked so cool doing that, making sure everyone could see I was holding a CD player remote in my hand as a drove with my value meal in my lap, a few fries dangling from my lips. 

16. "Mrs. Robinson"-Simon & Garfunkel. See above.

17. "Cecilia." Simon & Garfunkel. So RJ apparently still likes S&G. Makes me feel guilty for playing their music over and over again during RJ's young formative years. 

18-25. A bunch of songs by the rock band "Rush." RJ is a drummer, and there is some unwritten rule that, if you're a drummer, you need to like Rush, because Rush has the best rock drummer on the planet, Neil Peart. RJ likes them because they have intricate beats and rythms that only people with a higher musical IQ care about. I never liked RUSH that much, so I didn't influence this songs.

Final Analysis: My bro has a strong Simon & Garfunkel fetish and a few synthesizer pop songs that he definitely picked up from me. The sad part is, we all have a love of Air Supply, Neil Diamond, and Elton John from our parents. It is kind of sad when people laugh at Air Supply songs, cause deep inside, we just love 'em. 

Saturday, June 14, 2008

My African Princess


No, I didn't become a member of the FLDS and find wife #2 in sub-Saharan Africa. However, we did find an African clothing stand at a D.C. fleamarket a few weeks back, where Ellen purchased a mumu type dress. It is comfortable for her 31 weeks prego body. I'm not sure why she decided to hold the bananas though. Watch out Chiquita-girl, you might be replaced by a Taiwanese banana toting pregnant gal in an African frock from Mali. Whenever Ellen appears in front of me wearing this dress, I can't help but hear the first few bars of the "Lion King" theme song, you know, the sun rising above the Serengeti part.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Undaunted Courage: The Story of a Man and His Battle With a Buffet Server

America is the land of the smorgasbord. Wherever you turn, you can find a buffet. And here, a buffet means your supposed to eat as much as you want. I can actually remember my first experience with a buffet. I believe it was in Grants Pass, Oregon, when I was five years old, moving with my family from Benton City, Washington to Bloomington, Illinois. Not to bore you with details, but I remember the beef ribs like it was yesterday. I'm sure they really weren't anything great, but those saucy meaty morsels of cowflesh really tasted wonderful. I think I pounded at least 4 or 5 of those things, and that was as a five year old. Little did I know back then that my love for the all-you-can-eat buffet would only grow stronger.

Somewhere in the 80's, we were driving through Missouri, and stopped at a place called Duff's. It was a redneck's paradise kind of place. Stale nacho chips with cheap cheese sauce, a "taco" bar with some ground beef and the same cheap sauce; self-serve soda (this was not as common in the 80's) and ice cream. I was in gastro-paradise. I didn't know we were eating crap on a plate; I downed that chow like it was my last meal before a Ghandiesque fast for peace. Thus, that meal and the making of "suicide" sodas, and downing plenty of ice cream to polish it all off, are still burned in my memory.

Now in my 30's, I am showing the scars of my love for the steam tables. Actually, they are not scars, but some stretch marks undoubtedly aided by the multiple-course feedings I am so fond of. I think my size is sometimes threatening to a restaurant. This brings me to the point of today's post: The rude waitress at the Chinese/Japanese (that means a bunch of Chinese wearing Kimonos pretending to be Japanese) Buffet we visited this past week.

The waitress, I'll call her "Kiki" for the purposes of this post, first sat us at a table in the middle of the room, then went to some other waitresses standing in the corner. I noticed Kiki whisper to them, then all of them look at me and giggle. Then they started chattering back in forth, possibly placing bets on how many plates I would consume. Kiki looked like she would try and beat the over/under by ending my dining prematurely. Little did she or the rest of them know that my competitive nature, pride, and experience were going to foil any attempts at curbing my zeal for zucchini, passion for potstickers, and desire for oriental delicacies.

Kiki's first move: The Staredown
Kiki looked at me with her squinty eyes and thought that her sneery stare would stop my sojourns to the sushi pile, but it would take more than mere looks to thwart my mission:making sure I ate at least $14.95 (the value of admissions) worth of food.

Kiki's next maneuver: Utensil Removal
Kiki started making not-so-subtle hints that I should quit my consumption. First she took plates, and at one point, actually put my fork on the plate before removing it. Another time, she went for my chopsticks. I thought about going to my trusty index and forefinger, always there, always ready to grab, but instead located the chopstick jar and grabbed another pair. Try harder, Kiki!

Kiki's final attempt: Fortune-cookies
Maybe you've experienced this at a buffet before, where you've done maybe two, at the most three trips, and all of a sudden your check, some mints or candies, and some fortune cookies are on your table. The receipt has "thank you" scrawled upon it, suggesting you've had all you can eat. Kiki wrongly assumed that my 10 minutes of inactivity meant that I was finished. Silly server, tricks are for kids, and no fortune cookie & receipt combination is going to knock this boxer out of his fight. Besides, the NBA finals were on the big screen above us, and if they wanted us to leave, they shouldn't have the game on.

I lost count of how many trips I made, but I was satisfied at the end. Kiki should have known better; If a large man with an Asian wife comes into your restaurant, and he knows how to hold the chopsticks, he is going to get his money's worth.