Two Things that Made Us Laugh Today

1.) I was up and down the stairs and Aimee was watching the local News. As I walked into the living room, the News Reader was talking about some sort of local crime. I am not sure what the perp did or to whom, but the very last sentence was something like this:

Witnesses say the assailant was around (x) feet tall and possesses a very large right ear.

Maybe it was the way it was said, but we both busted out laughing. It was very random. Anyway, to help authorities, I drew a sketch in case you come across this villain. Click here to see.

2.) On the same news program, Aimee heard about The Pope coming to DC (Nationals Stadium).

She jokingly asked me:

Are you getting tickets to The Pope?

I had to ask her three times to repeat herself. When I finally understood, I said:

I don't know. Who's opening up for him?

I do know this. There is only ONE entity who could ever 'open up' for The Pope. See video below if you are interested.

My Job

My parents don't know what I do for a living so I thought I would explain. This stems from a phone call my mother had with a second cousin who asked what I do. All she knew is that it had something to do with computers. No problem Mom.

I am a 'project lead' or 'project manager' for website development. Say you want to create a website. There are a lot of pieces to the puzzle: How it will look, how the information is laid out on the pages (this is more important than you may think), how it functions, how it is made (what computer language you use to develop functionality), how a database is structured and what information is stored, where and how the website is stored, etc. etc. and ergo epsum.

I manage all of that stuff. I am sure it sounds boring to a lot of people. For whatever reason, I thoroughly enjoy it. I've thought about it: What's a fella who leans towards History, Political Science, Sociology and all those other liberal arts subjects, doing making websites? I think it has to do with the fact that I am not very detail-oriented while a website must be. Aimee loves to kid me about my lack of noticing details. On the other hand, she never kids me about getting things done.

If one, tiny, minute detail is incorrect, a whole website can malfunction. I look at it this way: the website helps me do my job. If there is a problem, nothing progresses until that problem is fixed. I know enough about the Internet to distinguish the problem, so all I need to do is contact the person who must fix it. This person can be one of many different people. Instead of shooting an email (or calling or asking in person) to all these many different people, I send it to one person. I try to do as much homework on the issue so that the person who's responsible for fixing it has a lot of information and says to him or herself: no problem.

The above was the basic version. I could go into more detail but I don't like to bore. So, Mom, that's what I do.

Speculation on Getting Older

Occasionally, I will have Instant Message exchanges with my oldest brother. Yesterday, we were talking about me having a family one day. He knows that Aimee and I want to have children. While I am married and intend to have children, he is unmarried. Sometimes we enjoy giving each other a hard time for no other reason than the fact that we are brothers. So today, I was speculating on him at age 53 while he did the same for me.

Below is mid-exchange of our chat. Of course I censored a bit as this is a PG rated blog. Keep in mind we are making fun of each other and believe this is a fine age. Fifty is the new thirty anyway. It's not about the age as much as zinging one's brother.

Brother: you will be talking some punk out of getting his nose pierced
"I hate you Dad!!!!"
Me: While you'll be talking to a chair..

Brother: "Hey Dad, get borrow money....for some Crystal?"
Me: Your best friend will be a box of Cheerios

Brother: "Dad, I have feelings for the other boys"
Me: your neighbors will bring you meals on wheels

The Next exchange is censored.
.
Brother: you get to teach a kid how to go poopy!
Me: you get to have someone teach you how to go poopy in a diaper.

Brother: that fate awaits us all
Me: true

Robots Can Help with Dogs

Every morning I (Matt) wake up and feed our dogs, then take them for a walk. The following video gave me some ideas. But then again, I would need a life-sized vehicle to achieve the same results.

Julie's Wine Blog

Aimee's friend Julie has a new blog about Wine. She knows a lot about wine. I don't.

She is a sommelier at a Restaurant named Ran Azul. Ran Azul is a very good Tapas Restaurant located in Howard County Maryland. This part of Maryland is very beautiful and wealthy. There are a lot of horse farms, big houses and rich people. With your meal, Julie will arrive at your table and tell you what wine goes with what food. Izzz Nyyezz!

I like Wine. I pretty much like everything about it. I don't drink that much though. I was just speaking about it with Aimee. I really really enjoy wine or beer but I seldom partake (any more). The main reason is lifestyle, I suppose. If I won the lottery and didn't have to work, and hung around people who enjoyed wine a lot, I imagine that I too would enjoy the spirits.

Enough about me. Here's her blog. And if you are ever in Clarkesville, MD, check out the restaurant. Good Luck with your blog and restaurant Julie.

Valentines Day

Within the first month of meeting Aimee, I learned a peculiar (to me) predilection of hers: She loves Broadway Musicals from the 1950's. I learned this on a Sunday afternoon, when she became overly excited because Seven Brides for Seven Brothers was on TV. It had a tough looking Lumberjack as the lead so how bad could it be? About five minutes later I learned how it could be when a group of "lumberjacks" in multicolored outfits started dancing and singing. It was absolutely ridiculous..and Aimee loved it. That day was probably the 37th time she had seen it.

She also loves pretty much loves all of Rodgers and Hammerstein productions, including The Sound of Music and Oklahoma! (exclamation point is part of the title). For The Sound of Music, she is quite talented at singing the song that all the Children sing at the Ball (or whatever it's called) before they go to bed: Good night, farewell, Adieu adieu adieu and all that nonsense. One by one, the children roll out of the party with their special "good night." One boy in particular reaches an octave so high that dogs cover their ears. Aimee can't quite reach that level but she sure tries..and tries..then laughs..then tries again. If you want to know what I am talking about, the song is below and our special little guy does his thing at about minute 1:40. It comes out of nowhere and is really quick so pay attention.



So, why am I writing about this? Because for Valentines Day, I gave her a DVD set of Rodgers and Hammerstein: The Sound of Music / The King and I / Oklahoma! / South Pacific / State Fair / Carousel.

Our dogs are already looking for places to hide when the music starts blaring.

I also got her the movie "Once" which is a musical without the high octaves, prancing and tidy clothing. It's set in Ireland. A song from the movie is below. I hear it's good. We shall see.

Neat Youtube Video for Obama

After the Democratic primaries in New Hampshire, Barak Obama gave a speech. A guy named "Will I Am" from a musical group called "The Black Eyed Peas" became inspired.

So much so, that he made the speech into song and had himself and other famous people sing along at the same moment with the same lines as Barak. I (Matt) found it a bit inspiring and at the least interesting. Plus, it has Scarlett Johansen, who is a {censored censored}. I was a bit embarrassed watching some of the histrionics but like the idea overall. Does it change my mind on anything? Not necessarily. I have to learn more about him. He does seem quite presidential though.



Now, someone needs to make a video for Hillary and McCain.

McCain's video could be set to the music of GI Joe, a Real American Hero.



Hillary's, to the Golden Girls:



Bill Clinton?



George Bush (My Favorite vid......on this post)



Okay, I'll stop. One last one for Dick Cheney, because deep down inside, he's gotta have a heart.

Chicken Running

In 1990, I visited my brother Tim at his home base in St. Croix, USVI. He picked me and my friend up at the airport and we proceeded to drive off. It was just our group in an old, giant convertible, out on a quiet, two-lane road. We were surrounded by lush tress, where it was tough for the sun to poke through.

Suddenly, a wild chicken bolted in front of the car, running as fast as it's chicken legs could go. It was as if he was late for a job interview or was trying to catch a flight. A chicken flight, if you will.

As soon as we passed, Tim screamed out the following words in desperate and pleading tone:

WHYYYYYY DID YOU DO IT?????

I laughed.

Our French friends are leaving

A while back, I wrote a post about how our French friends are leaving Maryland to return to their homeland. The next day, I received a feverish call from Anne-Laure, Vincent's wife. She called to ask that I remove the post because Vincent was afraid that his co-workers would see it and their secret out. Even though I know few people read this blog and the chances of any of Vincent's co-workers learning of their departure were between 00.0 and 0.05, I changed the post to unreadable French thanks to Google language translator:

You can view it here. If you're curious about what it says, I posted the translation at the bottom of this post. Keep in mind it went from English to French, then back to English. I other words, it's goofy.

Now everyone knows they are leaving. Vincent's last day at his job is Friday and they're off in a couple of weeks. They are making all their arrangements like moving stuff and selling cars. They're even scoping out apartments in Gey Paree.

I told Vincent today (we had lunch together), that since he's moving back to France he must change his blog, which is now in French (a Frenchman in DiCi), to English so I can keep up on what's happening with them. He replied: yes, I could title it "A Frenchman in Paris." Maybe you had to be there, but the irony of a French person writing about his experiences in his own country, from a global perspective, is rather amusing. Anyway, I hope he does. I will miss that Leche Cul Encule. He taught me a lot.....of naughty French words.

I am not, on the surface, a very emotional person. I am especially uncomfortable with man-on-man affection. This is one of the few times I can say that I am genuinely saddened and appreciative at the same time. It's a rare kind of sadness because though it's an end to a chapter, the next one will most certainly be more exciting than the previous. This sentiment is not foreign to me. I imagine he's experiencing similar thoughts that I expressed here, recently.

As far as the "appreciative" part above, I am thankful to have made such a great friend. I don't have too many friends, but the few ones I have are friends for life. So don't lose touch, baiseur, and don't forget your English because I don't have time to learn your language except for the bad words. I would say "Good Luck" but there's no such thing. Even if there were such a thing as good luck, you don't need it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Translation:

French:

Désolé Vincent. J'aurais pensé de la possibilité de voir les personnes nouvelles. Qui aurait WebFirst à regarder notre blog?

Quoi qu'il en soit, félicitations. Comme je vous l'ai dit auparavant, vous pourriez un jour bientôt éprouver les mêmes sensations je faire lorsque vous imiter mon accent américain. Préparez-vous, Super Leche Cul.

Vous permettra de ne plus se moquer de votre patrie d'adoption et ses habitants. Angry Quand les Français critiquent, vous, attention à l'horizon et une larme se déroulera votre joue, en pensant à Baja Fresh et Sam Adams. Je sais ces choses-là.

English:

Sorry Vincent. I would have thought the opportunity to see the new people. Who would WebFirst watching our blog?

Anyway, congratulations. As I said earlier, you may one day soon experience the same feeling I do when you imitate my American accent. Prepare yourself, Super Leche Cul.

You will no longer make fun of your adopted home and its inhabitants. Angry French critics When you look at the horizon and tears will run your plays, thinking about Baja Fresh and Sam Adams. I know these things.

Favorite Superbowl commercial

I (Matt) liked the following commercial the best.

Nikolai Volkoff

As a kid, I (Matt) used to watch professional wrestling every Saturday morning. Then, would practice the moves by jumping on to the bed with one, semi-furious elbow. I put a lot of pain into that bed.

One of the "Villains" who wrestled was named Nikolai Volkoff. He was an Evil Soviet who was most famous for singing the Soviet National Anthem before a match. There must have been thousands of other ten year old kids who could sing the Soviet National Anthem.

So, why is this of note? Because we'll be neighbors. Well, not house neighbors, office neighbors. There's a gym opening above the office where I often work, North of Baltimore and he'll be one of the trainers.

When he sees me, I may be sporting the same outfit he wears in the following classic video. Except mine will be purple and I will ridicule him in Vietnamese instead of Russian. Get a load of the OTHER guy in the video. Blondie says he has ten thousand dollars to pay Nikolai so he'll break another wrestler's arm. I think he should pocket the ten large, get a haircut and put on some pants. And watch Blondie totally haul off and punch Nikolai's chest at minute 1:20. That's the kind of force only my childhood bed knows.

A photo album of Aimee's car, by Mont. County government

Our local government Montgomery County has a great service. They actually take pictures of your car and create a photo album. They then send you a notice in the mail with login information so you can see it. That's swell of them, right? Not when you learn that it's because you've been speeding.

I thought it was a shame to waste such nice photos, so you can take a look at their work below:



I wish I could find out how they center a picture so well because I have no ability when it comes to this skill. From the looks of the picture, it does not appear that the car was speeding. It looks like I pulled in that little area and slowed down so the camera could take the best shot. I could argue that in court, justified by the fact that I think Aimee's car is Style-ing and the automatic picture taking computer went crazy for a moment in awe of it and just had to snap some pics. Or I could just pay the fine and move on because I don't have the free time. Plus, I learned long ago that it's a rough go if you ever try to fight The Man.

Oh well, I guess that's why the guys at the Car Club call me The Cruiser. If you get this movie reference and your first name is not Patrick, then I have a dollar and a high five for you.

Winter doldrums

(Matt)

This is the time of year where not much happens. Here in Maryland, the winter is just short enough so that the people tend to wait it out rather than spend much time outside. Though this is true, I am outside numerous times each day because of the dogs.

In the spirit of celebrating the time of the year when there's not much activity, I give you one of Aimee's favorite songsters. From Texas, of course.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Special!!

I love you. . . and your pancakes are ready.

Pizza Palace Remembered

I (Matt) haven't thought much of my college years since I graduated, but my new job brings me very close to my Alma Mater, Towson University, at least a few times a week. If it weren't for my college experience, random references to the area where I often work today in 2008, would go unnoticed.

Since I used to live and study near the Timonium MD office (for my current job) which brings me to one of my colleagues who mentioned "Pizza Palace" yesterday. I know Pizza Palace. In fact, I worked there briefly back in 1991.

Pizza Palace was the place where all the college students would visit after drinking one or 27 beers. They would yell their order and proceed to eat, scream, fight, throw food, throw up, and generally do all the nasty things college students tend to do. Pizza Palace was the place for someone to study in order to write a comprehensive book on Health Code Violations. Just uttering the name would cause Rats to sweat nervously and Cockroaches make the sign of the cross.

I can only convey my Pizza Palace experience with a short story. I was working one Tuesday night behind the counter, taking orders and cooking food. I was adorned with a Red Pizza Palace Tee Shirt, A Red Pizza Palace Baseball Cap, and a large, dirty white apron. Around 1:00 am, the kids streamed in.

"Get me a meat ball sub and quick, punk!" "I want a Pizza....now!"

I then saw a friend of mine who is quite the wise @##. I thought to myself: Great. I thought that since he was so drunk, that he wouldn't notice me in my Halloween costume, dressed like a guy who worked in a Pizza Parlor.

Me: Can I help you?

Unnamed friend: "Yeah..I'll have a large pizza, a large fries.." he squints his eyes...looks confused..looks away..looks back.."ROGERS?.....Is that you? ROGERS????"

Me: Yes..it's me. What can I get you.

Him: "Heeeeeyy..Rogers..You work at Pizza Palace? Pizza Palace???"

Me: Yes. I work at Pizza Palace. Now what do you want.

Him: He proceeds to retrieve all the people who he is with, bring them in front of me and begins pointing at my like I am some time of lab experiment run amok. "I KNOW THIS GUY! Look at him, he's working at Pizza Palace! Just look at him!" Laughter, smirks, condescending glances, giggles. If it were a movie, I'd have a lone tear down my cheek.

About two days later, I was walking to class in the warm sunshine, with a spring in my step, ready to absorb all that knowledge. There were hundreds of student milling about and socializing.

The music stops. "HEEEYYYY....PIZZA PALACE! What's up Pizza Palace!" I look over to see my friend along with a group of other people I knew. "ROGERS WORKS AT PIZZA PALACE!"

The following is dead true. For the next two years, this same guy forgot my real name. He only referred to me from then on.....as "Pizza Palace."

The funny thing about the position at this restaurant was that it was one of the more normal jobs I had during college. I could go on about the others, but I am out of time..

Music and Lyrics

Not too long ago, Aimee and I watched a movie title "Mysic and Lyrics." It's really silly. Hugh Grant stars as a former 80's Pop Idol who milks his former glory by playing amusement parks and high school reunions for people who graduated around that time period. For anyone who remembered the 80's along with it's Music, you know how light-hearted and goofy it seems now. The music in the movie is spot on in terms of its...well..Music and Lyrics.

Anyway, there's a scene in the movie where Hugh Grant's character is playing a high school reunion. The 30 ish ladies are brought back to their teen years and act as such. Hugh's character does not disappoint. So, how does this relate? At minute 2:01 of the following video, Hugh busts out what I call a Hip Thrust Motorcycle Revving Love Spasm. And Aimee, when asked, can mimic it enough to make me laugh. The movie itself is fairly fun to watch if I must say. So, if you dare, enjoy the following...

From my Favorites folder

I (Matt) seldom bookmark sites. When I do, I don't often visit them. The following are sites that may be a bit strange, but at one time I found them interesting.

1.) China's Mystery Mummies. 2000 years before the baby Jesus, a group of people lived in China. The funny thing is that they weren't Chinese. They were of Celtic origin. It's a mystery that European mummies were found so far from Europe thousands of years ago.

http://www.giftofireland.com/Articlethree.htm



2.) A Youtube Video. It's a commerical from the 70's about a Worker's Union called AFSCME. When I saw it, I howled laughing. PLEASE don't view it if you are offended by foul language.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3mw49mk_x0


3.) Written eye witness accounts of history

http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.com/eyindx.htm

4.) Urban Travel Guide to DC

http://gridskipper.com/travel/washington-dc

5.) The Last Supper Painting in crazy detail, allowing you to Zoom in wherever you want

http://www.haltadefinizione.com/en/cenacolo/look.asp

6.) Old Timey Family photos

http://www.squareamerica.com/s7.htm

7.) Eternal Sunset

The sun is always setting somewhere in the world. Someone has proven this.

http://eternalsunset.net/index.php

Debbie Downer

I was speaking with a co-worker yesterday. He's lamenting the fact that he's turning 30 this week and has to spend the whole weekend at a marriage counseling session, from Friday night to Sunday, bunking in a dorm with other would-be grooms, sharing one bathroom. Though I did empathize with him in that it must be a drag to spend the whole weekend proving that one is ready for marriage, I put the most positive twist possible on it.

I then shared my "wisdom" about turning thirty (and being married): I said to him: "I am much happier with my life after I turned thirty and being married, than when I was in my 20's and single."

His response: "This is because you have less time to live on the planet and you feel that you have to enjoy the little time you have left."

After I laughed at him, I called him "Debbie Downer" and asked him if he's ever seen the SNL skit. He said he hadn't. So, this is for anyone who hasn't seen it.

http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/#mea=32806

The Mad Greek Diner Man

I watched the movie "Rounders" this evening. It's one of those movies that I can watch again and again and I don't know why. Anyway, it's set in New York. One scene depicts a card game in a Greek Diner in NYC. One Greek Diner guy says to another:

F$@# meeee? F#@ Ayoooou! (pardon the language)

This reminded me of a story from right after I moved to New York. The story includes blue language (which is inferred, not written). So if blue language offends you, please stop here.

When I moved to New York, I didn't have a job. I initially had considerable free time on my hands in Astoria, Queens. Astoria is traditionally known as a Greek neighborhood. There are Greek Delis, Greek Supermarkets, and a lot of Greek People sauntering about, gesticulating, sipping coffee and yelling at each other (for them, it's just talking).

Which brings me to George. George was the Greek owner of a Greek Diner on my block. Since I was unemployed, I went to George's Diner every day for a Greek Salad with extra anchovies. When you walked through the door of George's Deli, you were now in George Land, where George was King. George talked to everybody. George always talked (yelled). George never took any flack from anyone. In fact, whenever a customer would event hint of giving him a hard time, George would make a scene, yelling like a crazy man with dramatic hand gestures. There was only one law in this Diner: be respectful to George or George will silence you by causing a scene and threatening life banishment from his diner. Of course, every time this would happen, I would put down my paper, fixate my eyes on the scene and pray that I would not collapse in laughter. I liked George.

For example, the breakfast special ended at 11:00 am. If you ordered the special at 11:01 a.m., George would respond with disdain, shock and fury. On one particular Sunday, and elderly man (George didn't discriminate) demanded the breakfast special after 11 am. After the elderly man continued to pester him, George proceeded to do the following: He bean to unbuckle his pants and while doing so, said:

Shoooda I pull down my pants for you too?? What else do you want from me? Shoulda Eye take down my pants????

When I frequented the Deli, I often wore a black windbreaker-type jacket , so George thought I was some type of law enforcement man.

George: Ayy, where u frawm.

Me: Washington, DC.

George: U a cop? You gotta thatta blacka jacket. You looga lika cop. You CIA?

Me: No, not a cop. I am actually looking for a job.

George (sarcastically): Suuure yoo are a Mister Washingdun Dee Cee. Mr. CIA. Washoo want, Mr. Washingdun Deee Cee CIA.

Me: I'm not a cop. I'll have a Greek Salad with extra anchovies.

George: Yu got it, Mr. Washingdun Dee Cee CIA FBI. (wink wink wink).

Every time I walked in his Diner from then on, George would greet me by yelling: Heeeeey, Mister Washingdun Dee CIA Man! There was no problem with this but since he yelled it out, whoever was in ear shot would drop what they were doing and look straight at me. Earshot for George covered the whole diner and probably the hospital rooms across the street.

One day, there was a "mentally unstable" lady seated at the counter while I was at a table, eating a Greek Salad with extra anchovies. This lady was textbook: long gray hair, mangy clothes and surrounded by bags. She was chattering on at George. As went on, she became abusive. She began to yell and the volume of her voice began to rise. George maintained his composure:

George: Yes Janice. Okay Janice. No problem. I am trying to help you, Janice.

I began to feel a little bad for George and resentful of the lady. After what happened next, I was quickly reminded where I was: George Land.

After a long sentence of senseless yelling, the lady made a big mistake.

Lady in squeaky crazy lady voice: F$@$# yooou.

(Mee: newspaper slowly lowering down revealing my surprised eyes, thinking: Ohhhhh noooo.)

George, turns around and yells: F#@#$ Meeeeeeeeeeee??????? F#$@@ Yoooooooooou!!!!!

Even the crazy lady knew she made a big mistake because she immediately began to yell out:

Am Sorry! An Sorry! I won't do it again! I sweaaar!

Too late. George dramatically banished her from his domain. After she was gone, George proceeded to tell me her life story with considerable empathy. He didn't feel good about what what had just occurred. Though he may have been gruff, George was a good man. If it weren't for the foul language, I think it may have turned out differently. Knowing George, I wouldn't be surprised if he let her back in sometime later.

The best part about this story occurred about two weeks later. I was in the Diner with my friend Luke. In front of George, I retold the story. As I told the story, I began to impersonate the banished lady in her squeaky voice with the "Eff U" included. I then reached down into a deep place within myself, and performed, word for word, my best impersonation of George, in front of George, gesticulations included:

fff@%%$ Meeee? F%#$$ Yoooou!


For the next five minutes, George proceed to laugh as hard as anyone I have ever seen laugh in my life, tears included.

Okay Mister Washingdun Dee Cee, Maybe you are nodda cop.

Happy New Year

Aimee spent NYE with her family in Good Ole Texas. I am sorry I could not make it down there and hope to see the Stevenson Clan soon. It's been too long. Anyway, I spent a quiet NYE with the family at Dogfish Brewery in Gaithersburg Maryland. I ate like a pig. Later, I welcomed 2008 with Darla and Ginny.



Here are some pics from Christmas:

Aimee opening up Secret Santa gift.

Matt and Aimee.

New Year's Eve

It was foggy this morning so I snapped a cell phone photo.

It's New Year's Eve. Don't Drink and Drive.

French Friends

Censored!

Désolé Vincent. J'aurais pensé de la possibilité de voir les personnes nouvelles. Qui aurait WebFirst à regarder notre blog?

Quoi qu'il en soit, félicitations. Comme je vous l'ai dit auparavant, vous pourriez un jour bientôt éprouver les mêmes sensations je faire lorsque vous imiter mon accent américain. Préparez-vous, Super Leche Cul.

Vous permettra de ne plus se moquer de votre patrie d'adoption et ses habitants. Angry Quand les Français critiquent, vous, attention à l'horizon et une larme se déroulera votre joue, en pensant à Baja Fresh et Sam Adams. Je sais ces choses-là.

Do you know Bill?

Someone thinks Bill Stickers deserve a fair shake:

Dan Fogelberg

I learned that Dan Fogelberg died last week. Dan Fogelberg made some of the cheesiest songs known to Modern History. A million years from now they'll pull his records from a time capsule, start a song and then say (in whatever alien language) "Daaaamn, that's cheesy. No, don't turn it off yet."

I am not sure if Dan Fogelberg was into Dark Magic, but his songs had the strange ability to compel you to sing along.

Take the example below (lyrics included). To this day, if I am driving alone in a car, I belt it out loudly. If you are brave enough to make it through to minute point 2:09, note that I do the horn solo too..all of the horn solo. It's a long horn solo.

The interesting thing is that all of his songs make me want to punch myself in the face. Hard.

So long Dan...

Matt's Philosophy on Eating Meat

First off, I am not a vegetarian,. I like meat. I do have fairly specific laws about eating meat though. I try to hold two strict tenets.

1.) I won't eat smart animals. This specifically refers to Pigs (pork). Some major religions forbid eating pork because the pig is supposed to be a sloven and disgusting animal. I think pigs are great. I liken then them to dogs in that they can be your pals. People have potbelly pigs for pets. Pigs like me so I like them back.

Here's an example of religious thoughts about pigs:

The nature of a pig is a very disgusting one. The pig is naturally lazy and indulgent in sex. It dislikes sun-light and lacks the spirit and will to 'fight'. The older it grows, the lazier it gets. It eats almost anything, be it faeces or anything dirty. It prefers dirty places to clean ones. It eats and sleeps only and hates to move around.

Whatever. If you don't like pigs, fine. I don't like Deer. I'm not on good terms with squirrels and I have a sincere phobia of Frogs (ask Aimee, she'll tell you about it with a laugh). But do I harp on this? No. I don't bother them as long as they don't bother me. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pluralistic society while you, Pig Hater, are a mentally enslaved, Silly Billy.

2.) No eating the Babies. Specifically, this refers to Lamb and Veal. To me, it's just bad Karma. There's a cute little baby born. Then it lives only long enough to taste good for a human. I feel bad for the baby animals that get eaten, so I try not to eat them. I don't mind if others eat them. That's fine, go for it.

As far as Animals I will eat, here are a few:

Chickens: Cluck cluck doh! Sorry buddy, you never grease the wheels by throwing me a smile.

Fish: No facial expressions. Always on the go. I will eat them but seldom. I have a problem with paying too much for fish. They taste good though!

Cows: You win anyway. My stomach cannot digest the Cow so I seldom eat you. You taste darn good though!

Rabbits: Controversial Subject. When I was discussing my Meat Eating habits with a Spaniard once, he asked me if I thought Rabbits were dumb. I said "Of course they are! Dumb Dumb Dumb!" He proceeded to tell me that he has them for pets and that they come when he calls. I felt bad but not bad enough to enjoy a tasty Rabbit two weeks ago. You could say this particular rabbit was Watershipped Downed (google Watership Down). Or maybe French Wine Downed.

So, there you have it.

Interstate 95 in Maryland

As I (Matt) drive a long way to North of Baltimore three times a week via Interstate 95, I amuse myself by observing the behavior of drivers. I think that most drivers are responsible. We don’t notice the responsible drivers though, only the bad ones. I find patterns in these bad drivers. They tend to fall into predictable ‘characters’. Sometimes I feel I am in The Matrix (google it) and the characters tend to repeat themselves in a loop, only with a different color of vehicle or a slight alteration of haircut. Here are a few of them:


The Over-educated Angry Politico. On the back of your car, you have many ten-year old Presidential Campaign Stickers for people I’ve never heard of. I’m sorry that Presidential Candidate Jarvy Kincaid didn’t steal the election from Clinton in 1996. You keep the pedal to the floor as your Geo Storm strains to a top speed of 67 miles per hour in the Passing Lane. FYI: The guy who named the Geo “Storm” did so as a joke. More appropriate names are: The Geo Wind Gust, The Geo Sprinkle, The Geo Puddle or The Geo Babbling Brook.

The New Yorker: Because he is outside of his own state, he feels he must maintain the negative image of New Yorkers maintain by tailgating, weaving and being a general dick. The truth is that he probably lives nowhere near the city and driving on the highway as a “The New Yorker” is the actual highlight of his existence. When he arrives in the driveway of his home, the elation of being a high way j@rk-0ff subsides and the emotional downer begins. He goes from Highway Super Villain to Long Island Pete AKA The Yankee fan that annoys other Yankees fans AKA The Only Uninvited Guy at the Cookout.

The Average and Annoying White Guy: Your age range is 28 to 47. You have the same haircut, always. No matter what car you drive, you are still boring looking. Even if you are 100 yards in front of me or behind me, I can still sense your anger. You’ll never actually be a serial killer, but you have potential.

The Sales Guy in Luxury Sedan: You still think that talking about alcohol is cool yet you are over 33. You think that your expensive clothes mask the toll your unhealthy habits take on your body. You love to cut people off with one hand on the wheel and the other on your cell phone. You sales numbers are high but only because you are overly aggressive. People don’t like dealing with you because being a tool only gets you so far in life, unlike the highest performer on your team.

Joe Dirt (google it) in a Huge Powerful Pickup. All you do is tailgate, even though your truck’s height allows you to see that I cannot go any faster because the Angry Politico guy is in front of me. You consider the Edgy Morning Radio Personality your best friend because he celebrates Le Habitantes Dirtages. When you get drunk you like to sing the Kiss song “Beth” to your girlfriend named Liz. When you finally learn that there is no Washington Redskins memorabilia displayed in my backseat, you swerve over to the slow lane to make a loop around to see if you can get in front of the Libertarian who’s slowing down the passing lane. Twenty minutes later you are still behind me.

The Foreign Guy. You’ve been in the United States for almost two years now. You picked up the English language yet somehow you don’t understand why people give you dirty looks as you change four lanes in .2 seconds. They may not have taught you this back home so let me help: Vehicles are heavy and consist of metal. Humans are made of tissues and bones connected by joints and organs. When a heavy object made of steel quickly comes into contact with a human, the human may get hurt. To prevent this, America has driving laws. You may laugh at driving laws in your country (just like you laugh at a tooth brush and tooth paste), but the people of America think they are kind of important.

This is all I have for now. Thanks guys, for entertaining me on my way up Interstate 95.

The 'Davey Milnick' Effect

David Melnick, found on Google Images

Aimee would say that I have a bad habit. I would say Aimee has a bad habit. The crux of the matter: Aimee will state something to me or ask a question. About 87% of the time, I will not understand her and repeat what I think she said.

Example One:

Aimee: {inaudible words}

Matt responds: Whhhat? Alabaster chickens?

Aimee (loudly, annoyed): Nooooo! After the dinner, Saturday evening! Are you deaf? What’s your problem?

Example Two:

Aimee: {mumbling inaudible words)

Matt responds: Whaaat??? Russian Oranges and little boy blue?

Aimee (loudly, annoyed): Nooo! I’m in a rush, so tell me when you’re through. Do you do this on purpose? Because it’s really annoying.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, you may think that I (Matt) am trying to be a smart a$@. But what about this fun fact: Whenever Aimee wants to tell me something, about 87% of the time she is either in another room or another floor. Of course I don’t understand.

Anyway, the other day, I was speaking with Aimee on the phone. I said the following:

Matt: So, Dave emailed me today.

And Aimee’s response was the following:

“Whaaaaaat? Davey Milnick? Who is Davey Milnick? That sounds like a name from Leave It to Beaver! Daaavey Milnick....”

Thus, The Davey Milnick Effect.


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Look Closely

Sanity Tested

Today we had Direct TV (Satellite Dish) installed. First, Darla (a dog) kept screaming during the three hour long process. Then, I discover the TV installer disabled the phone and Internet so I could not work and that it elongated his visit another couple of hours. I am also visiting the crazy dog (one of two) every five minutes.

Then I hear a whoooosh wooosh..I run down to the basement to see the Satellite Dish Installer standing on a ladder with gallons of hot water shooting at him. I turn off the water for the whole house to see he had completely busted the hot water pipes. I throw him a towel and ask him if he's okay while thinking Son Uv a B#@$%! Bam, we call the Plumber. We had a plumber and the Satellite guy at the house at one time.

Meanwhile the dogs are still being more difficult by the minute. I take them outside to watch them gleefully dance around in the completely muddy backyard while periodically visiting both the Dish Guy and Plumby the Plumber. After about half a Bank Account later, the fellers leave and the dogs are cleaned off with a towel. Not every day can be Ice Cream, Happy Hugs and High Fives. At least we have HDTV via a Satellite...and a brand spanking new PVC plumbing pipe.

Not supposed to snow this much this soon

I (Matt) would not miss it if I didn't see another snowy day. Still nice to look at though..



Aimee Got into the Act.

As did the dogs in the background:



While we are on the subject of Aimee, here is a reminder of her ritual of talking photos of herself EVERY time she gets her hair "did."




Finally, here is a drawing Aimee did. It's Jesus doing some Christmas Shopping at Best Buy. Since Best Buy has the best prices, the title of her work is "Jesus Saves." Notice the frowns on the people in line. That TV he's getting is Nifty though, right? No Flat Screen, Jesus?

First person in the World To Dance

Here's some history:

Caught in a John Waters movie

In a John Waters film like Hairspray or Cry-Baby, we see an odd and fantastic version of Baltimore. I always thought that John Waters' image of Baltimore was just that: his own.

Jump to last week and my (Matt) weekly visits to Timonium Maryland to work with Internet Software Developers. Someone suggested for lunch that we visit "Village Sub."

It's totally Old School, I was told. I said "Sure, let's do it."

Well, I walk in and see a Sub Place that appears that it has not changed since the 50's.

See for yourself:

What I found more remarkable were the employees:

1st Employee: Odd looking gentleman in his 50's will a bowl haircut. When we walked in, we could have just landed from Mars. That was how he stared at us. I still feel his stare and I'm miles away.

2nd Employee: 30's lady with a giant bouffant hair do. She had unusual clothing and many crosses hanging from her neck.

3rd Employee: The proverbial "Tough Ole Lady." In her 60's with a growl and snort to communicate. She was rought but endearing.

The thing is, these people weren't trying to be kitchy or ironic or smarmy. They are the real deal.

I immediately felt I was in a John Waters film. If it weren't for the people I was with, I might have jumped up on the counter and started crooning a la "Cry-Baby" Walker, with the employees above joining in with fanciful dance moves. Maybe I'll go there alone sometime and try it. Maybe not.

I felt as if perhaps Mr. Waters vision of the world had less to do with his creativity (which he of course has a lot) with SOME elements of reality. I believe I confirmed that he didn't make ALL of it up on his own. This place is strange, but great. It's got flavor. I like flavor. And it has great subs.

So, tonight, I search for John Waters in Wikipedia and learned the following:

Waters grew up in Lutherville, Maryland, a suburb of Baltimore.

And the location of Village Sub? Lutherville, Maryland. Damn I'm good....sometimes...

New England Pride

The title betrays what I (Matt) believe myself to be. Though I grew up in New England until the age of 14, I refer to myself as a Marylander. New England culture, like New York or Texas, is much better known than Maryland. But Maryland has flavah, indeed it does. More on that later.

Anyway, the video below makes me proud of the fact I am a former New Englander and current Red Sox fan.

Scene: Autistic Man singing the National Anthem at a Red Sox game. During the song, he gets a case of the giggles. My first thought was “oh no, they’re going to ridicule him.”

I was happily incorrect.

Our Kitchen's grownz up.

On all the home improvement television shows, a dramatic transformation occurs within the course of a half hour. I appreciate this in relation to watching a show, but when it comes to our own house, I wouldn't enjoy it too much. In our (Aimee and me) case, the show would last a long time and be quite boring. Why? Because we've made improvements slowly. Why? Because we only pay for improvements for which we can afford. We've taken the five year plan as opposed to the TV show plan. I would rather pay for this stuff in cash than take out loans.

The latest improvement is for our kitchen. So, what did we do? Back Splash. Yah, not too exciting.

I don't have true before and after of pictures of our kitchen from when we moved in vs. its present state. The reason is that the original state of our kitchen did not even reach the level of a kitchen in a crack house. Inhabitants of crack houses would snub their noses at our kitchen, circa 2005.

What I do have is a before and after from a year ago vs now. First, here is a picture from a year ago.

Here is the "Today" with the new backsplash:

We're gettin there...

Aimee's Birthday

Happy Birthday Spouse!!

Funny Foo Fighters Music Video

Music Videos aren't as prevalent as they once were. I, Matt, don't exactly have my finger on the pulse of the Music Video World, but I do know they still exist.

Case in point: a new Foo Fighters video. I am not their number one fan, though I think their videos are hilarious. Their new one centers around the cast of a 70's Soap Opera. There's romance, jealousy, a side career as a teen idol, heart break, and a lot of shots of a guy crying in a very funny way.

I like the fake names for the characters in the video. I think my favorite is "Ty Hawkstone." I've been known to come up with a few myself.

If you don't like music videos, no need to watch. If you like ridiculousness. then definitely watch.

Ginny The Chinese Food Thief

Location: Kitchen

Subject: Plate of Chinese food left for 13 seconds

Perpetrator: Ginny-Lou Weedawalker, born in West Virginia USA

Crime: Chinese Food Theivery

Sworn Statement: I left the room for a moment, only to turn around and see Ginny start to eat my food. The portion of the plate where she ate was cleaner than the day it came out of the Plate Factory (China?).

Punishment: None. I commend her for her effort and the ability to smile right after she's caught.

Fall in Maryland photos

Since it hardly rained this past summer, the fall colors are not quite as dramatic as they tend to be during the Fall season. They are still pleasant though, as seen below.

I (Matt) took the dogs for their morning walk and brought along the camera. Here is Darla, checking out the scene.

Here is the view from our back yard. It's hard to make out, but in the middle of the picture, you can see a paved path.

Happy Ginny enjoying the woods.


The Woods.

Another back yard shot.

The Path.

That's all for now!

Thoughts on Spanish

If you spend any amount of time on the Internets, you've seen the following video. It is a 'love song' in Spanish. The lyrics are a mishmash of the amount of knowledge one feller retained from one semester of college Spanish. It certainly is funny...at least I think so. If you've ever taken a Spanish class, you will certainly appreciate it.

I (Matt) speak Spanish. I am certainly rusty though when I try after not having spoken it for awhile. Then, within about a half hour, it flows back fairly quickly. I enjoy speaking with native Spanish speakers who appreciate someone who speaks their language. I get the feeling though, that many folks from Latin America who have been in the US for some time think Gringos are pandering/humoring them. So, I tend not to speak it unless I feel comfortable.

Outside the country is a different story. When Aimee and I are in a Spanish speaking country (four times so far), I speak to anyone and everyone. Native Spanish speakers in their own countries don't have too many preconceived notions about foreigners speaking their language, so the experience is enjoyable.

My favorite Spanish, by far, is Chilean Spanish. Why? Because that's how I learned it. It also sounds beautiful to me. At the end of this post, I added a video of a song by Violeta Parra, a famous Chilean folk singer. Aimee and I have one of her CD's and it's great. The song in the video is sung by some dudes and not Violeta, but you can get a sense of the power of her music, even if you don't understand. I actually have lot of trouble with some of the words, so I just listen to it with my English-speaking brain. If you don't know who she is, you can google her and learn about her influence on the music of the 1960's in the US.

First though, check out the goofiness.



Then, here is a REAL song in Spanish.

Drive into the Danger Zone

Today was momentous. The spirit of Maverick from Top Gun possessed me.

I am not the speedy car type fella. All my (Matt) adult life I drove second hand or basic cars...by choice. When Aimee and I moved to Maryland, my mother offered her 1990 Volvo Station Wagon with busted air conditioning and heating to my youngest sister. Sister declined. Since I didn't have a car at the time, I jumped at the chance. Before that, there was the first new car I ever purchased: a 1998 Hyundai Elantra. I purchased the Elantra after I read a newspaper article how these cars were the best economic choice. Before that I drove a 1986 VW with duct tape on it.

When I was in high school and driving with friends, some times we'd be at a RED light, next to a Ferrari or Lotus or some fast car. Whoever was driving almost instinctually did the following:

1.) Rev engine on ridiculously slow station wagon.
2.) Look over to driver of fast car
3.) Point to Red light.
4.) Dramatically turn thumbs down to other driver.

It would never fail that we'd laugh when the light would turn green and the parental vehicle would cough out to a top speed of 37 miles per hour while the fast car was already nearing the Pennsylvania State line.

What I am saying is that I never drove fast and still do not. When it comes to cars, I am more like Jerry Lewis than Carl Lewis...except for today. I drove a car over 100 miles per hour.

I don't recommend or advocate speeding. Part of this can be attributed to the kind of car that Aimee has: a G35. This car is a bullet. One hundred miles an hour for this car is like a lion yawning. For me, it's fast.

So anyway, the situation presented itself:

1.) An open highway with no cars ahead.

2.) Maverick from Top Gun giving me the thumbs up.

3.) This song blaring on the stereo.

I think I felt the presence of Maverick, Goose, and Ice Man. And ever so faintly, I heard them say: I like your moves. I am not sure, but I think I responded with the requisite coded answer: I like your style.

So I pushed down on the gas. Any cars behind me became tiny little dots in the matter of seconds. And it felt kinda good.

Leaving on a High Note

(By Matt)

Scene from Seinfeld:

Office meeting at Kruger Industrial Smoothing.

Kruger: ...And it gets worse. The team working on the statue in Lafayette Square kind of over-smoothed it. They grounded the head down to about the size of a softball, and that spells trouble.

George: Alright, well why don't we smooth the head down to nothing, stick apumpkin under its arm and change the nameplate to Ichabod Crane?

(Everyone at the meeting breaks out in laughter.)

George (getting up and leaving): Alright! That's it for me. Goodnighteverybody.

later...

Elaine: What was that?

Jerry: Showmanship, George is trying to get out on a high note.

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It seems that when we wish for chance and opportunity, it's a moment in which we foresee better circumstances. With the job for which my last day was yesterday, I hadn't been looking.

Work life was set: I loved what I did. I had the best work environment I've ever experienced (and I've experienced the worst). The commute was 15 minutes, door to door. My clients and coworkers enjoyed working with me. I knew my stuff.

So, why did you leave? An opportunity.

Will you love it? I don't know.

What's the work environment like? There is none, yet.

What about the commute? I don't know where I'll end up working.

Are you an expert at it? No and No.

Are you crazy? Eeeeasy. I'm telling you something.

The reason I left my job relates to one certainty: nothing ever stays the same. The job I left was a slice in linear time and happened to be a high note.

If George Costanza had stayed in the meeting, maybe everyone would get bored. Maybe they would have become hungry for lunch and would not have been primed for the Ichabod Crane joke.

If I had stayed at my job, I could have seen my great coworkers leave, one-by-one. Maybe the office would transfer far from our house. Maybe I would get laid off. In any case, the possibility existed where I'd reach a point where the 'slice in time' would not be as high as it is now. I would always think back to the opportunity that I didn't consider. So, even if this opportunity turns out to be a bust (which I doubt), I will never experience any regret.

I think the most difficult change is the type where you force events rather than letting them lead you. Events that force change allow you to reason that you didn't have a choice and needed to make do. People are comfortable when everything makes sense. I have neither certainty nor comfort when I think about future linear time. It is certain though, that we (me and Aimee) will surely find out.

Red Sox Win World Series again..finally

By finally, I refer to watching baseball consistently for a month. It was like a second job, in a good way though...

The above picture was what I saw in front of me every night: a TV in front of me and a dog (Ginny) in the general vicinity. Darla (other dog) goes to bed promptly every night at 9:32 pm. Ginny, however, is the faithful Red Sox fan.

The picture below is a shadow caused by the sun shining through our kitchen window early Sunday morning. It reminds me of special effects in images before special effects existed. Just a neat photo..no big whoop.

Boston in the movies and real life

So I (Matt) know I’ve written about my cousin being in a movie that just came out (Gone Baby Gone), numerous times. We saw it on Saturday. It's good.

I am done selling the movie though I still have a personal interest it. Why? The takes place in the two neighborhoods where my mother grew up: South Boston and Dorchester. I now believe my interest has less to do with the fact that a cousin is an actor in the movie, and more to do with my own childhood experiences. I didn’t grow up in these neighborhoods, but they are the places I spent the majority of childhood, outside of the town where I grew up (until age 14). Before today, I hadn’t really thought of this movie (and other movies about South Boston) in terms of my own experience. After reading a review of the movie, it got me thinking. Mainly, the following excerpt did:

“It's what you don't choose in life that make you who you are." He goes on to give examples like family, or where you were born, while the camera sweeps across the hardened blue-collar streets of Dorchester, Mass., eventually landing smack in the middle of a community grieving the disappearance of a little girl who was kidnapped from her bed. Those of us on the outside looking in would describe these people as "white trash" -- the kind of folks that made Jerry Springer a household name -- but to Patrick, this is home. These are the people he grew up with, these are the people he'll grow old with, and these are the people he'll go out of his way to protect.”

I won’t debate movie inferences on how these to supposedly rough neighborhoods are portrayed. I can share my experiences as a young boy in the 1970's.

I remember these neighborhoods as a child, filled with extended family. There were family members everywhere, all the time... cousins, uncles, aunts, you name it…..stopping in saying hello and leaving. I remember men in brown leather jackets with polyester collars sticking out. I remember the smell of cigarettes in enormous Cadillacs with the first automatic windows I had ever seen. To this day, when I get into a car that smells of a certain brand of cigarette, I feel good for no reason.

I remember ancient uncles and aunts looking upon me as a young child and saying “He-ah’s a dollah Methew, go getcha self an ice cream.” If I had a dollar for every dollar I was given to go get an ice cream.

The homes contained furniture and a certain familiar smell of the past. They reminded me of what it must have been like to live in Boston in the 1940’s: older, ornate, wooden furniture and giant stair cases. Upon arriving, the first thing my grandmother would do would demand a hug. During the hug, she would say “ooooooh, that’s a gooood boy.” Then, she would make me eat. Even if I wasn’t’ hungry, refusing food was not an option.

I remember the same question over and over again: "Methew, ah you studying hahhd in school? Ah you doin yah homework?" My answers would of course be ‘yes’ and ‘yes’ while the truth was ‘no’ and ‘no.’ I didn’t study and do homework (much), but this doesn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention.

I remember smiles, hugs, pats on the back, good-natured interrogations, listening to advice, listening to everything…activity and chatter.

Outside of these places, Kid World was very different. Kid World (minus any family, nuclear or extended) in a small, quiet town was a very scary place, while in Extended Family World (the supposedly “rough” South Boston and Dorchester) I felt protected and safe.

There were first communions, confirmations, weddings and funerals. All of them at St. Brendan’s in Dorchester. During these occasions, whether in sadness or celebration, the sense of family was always there. When my grandmother died at 99 (in 2005), my Uncle Jimmy (who is a Firefighter in South Boston) said that it was an end of an era. He was right, but whatever intangible family thing that I cannot describe here, did not end.

From the memories mentioned above, jump almost 30 years later. During the most tragic event that my immediate family (Maryland) ever experienced, the South Boston and Dorchester people got up and left the places they never seem to leave.. and came here to Maryland for support. After a funeral, there was the same chatter that I remember as a child....the same questions..the same feeling. Next time, I am sure the reason for receiving these guests will be to celebrate something, rather than mourn.

The way you learn about family helps you learn abut relationships and friendships. I'm no wise old sage (better looking than this guy though), but I can give examples. I still speak with my oldest friend (since 8 years old) on a regular basis. I recently had lunch with the first friend I made when my family moved to Maryland ( in 1986). I will be starting a new job soon, thanks to the first friend I made in college (in 1990). So, I don't really care if a movie paints a broad brush in how it portrays two neighborhoods in Boston. I already know.

Smooth as a Baby's

There's no purposeful theme with this post from the most recent. My coworker sent me the link to this video. I watched it and was amused. The thirty-three second point is my favorite part.

I know this is an adverstisement, but it doesn't matter.

Fight For Kisses //// www.ffk-wilkinson.com
envoyé par killafather

This Made Me laugh

Most internet videos are boe-reeng.

This one is the first one in awhile that actually made me (Matt) laugh: