TimeWaster

Obama: Where Will He Fall On The List?

Barack Obama is not the first black president this country will have encountered.  Question - will he be the best?

Because I only had the time to find four, here are the TOP FOUR BLACK PRESIDENTS OF ALL TIME:

4)  PRESIDENT DAVID PALMER, "24"

For a while, he seemed like the best president this country's ever seen.  And then Gregory Itzin showed up and out-presidented his ass.  Sorry Dave - it's #4 for you.

3)  PRESIDENT TOM BECK, "DEEP IMPACT" -

One of the first black presidents; failed to stop meteor attack on the Earth.  Would've ranked higher if he thought of sending redneck drillers onto the asteroids instead of wasting time with Batman.  

2)  PRESIDENT LINDBERG, "THE FIFTH ELEMENT"

Pro:  Was president of the future.  Con:  Couldn't find the fifth element.  Pro:  Was a president even though he has a weird, lazy eye.  Con:  Weird, kind of wimpy name of "Lindberg".  Sorry, too many cons don't outweigh the pros.  

And the number one black president is...

1)  PRESIDENT CAMACHO, "IDIOCRACY"

Wasn't too far off from what George W. Bush was like, but this guy got results.  And unlike George W., actually averted a nationwide crisis.  

My Hearing Is DEFINITELY Going

I'm watching TV, and the ad for the "Twin Draft Guard" came on.  Perhaps you've seen it - it's a foam piece that slips under the door to keep out pesky drafts and other evils that sneak in underneath your doorway - drafts, cold, wind, leaves, dirt, snow, etc.  

I wasn't really paying that close attention to the TV when it came on, so I guess that's my defense for not hearing the announcer correctly.  Because when he said "Twin Draft Guard also keeps out fumes!," I swear for like 20 seconds there I thought he said...

"Twin Draft Guard also keeps out PUBES!"

Imagine how fast I dove for the remote to rewind this ad.  Not to make sure I wasn't hearing it properly, but to see the action shot of pubic hair rushing against the door with such ferocity and volume that something had been invented to stop this nuisance.

Maybe I need a hearing aid.  Or maybe I just need to go to bed.

TV R.I.P.

For months now, we've been bombarded with reminders that television will be going "all digital" in February, and if you don't have cable, satellite or some kind of converter box, you're pretty much screwed.

In all honesty, does anyone care?  I mean, come on - this change is only really going to affect really old people, really poor people, or those annoying hippie-types who think they're too good for television.  But there is someone else this switchover will affect.

Me.

See, for my 15th birthday, I got what can only be described as the coolest, most amazing gift of all time: a portable television.  It was about the size of a brick, but the screen itself was a two inch by two inch glowing friendly box slightly offset in the center.  It came in a thin plastic carrying case and was technically the first flat screen I ever owned, even though it was neither an LCD or a plasma.  But does that really matter when you literally have the power to watch episodes of "Kate & Allie" regardless if you're in your rec room, the backyard, in the car, stuck in quicksand - whatever.

Now in this day and age of iPhones, iPods, Blackberries, YouTube, text messaging, or Nintendo DS's, a portable television probably sounds pretty lame.  But in 1988, having a portable TV set that could fit in my pocket and get every station - in color no less! - transformed me from mild mannered suburban teen into some kind of slovenly, uncultured super hero!  

Admittedly, I was obsessed with that thing.  Maybe a little too obsessed.

Take, for example, all the times my dad came in to my room to catch me watching television on that tiny 2" screen instead of the remote controlled 14" television that sat about five feet from my bed.  Or my 16th birthday - when my parents took me, my then girlfriend and her parents to a very swank, very expensive steakhouse.  How did I repay their generosity?  By bringing Lil' Tubey along to watch the series premiere of "The Simpsons".  Nothing but class.

Then there was the time I was on a plane from Syracuse to D.C., and watched an entire episode of "Mama's Family" during flight.  Well, not exactly an entire episode - I had to turn it off once the pilot came on the P.A. system to inform us that *someone* was using a non-approved electrical device that was interfering with their instruments, and to please turn it off before we had problems.  I ask you - what else could bring you the non-stop hilarty of a "Mama's Family" episode as well as the excitement of a near crash?

Once I hit college, the mini-TV saw less and less action, but did occasionally make appearances.  And this thing was a trooper - no matter how long it had been out of action, merely popping in six fresh AA batteries would fire that bad boy up and instantly stream non-stop entertainment to my eyeballs.

I was cleaning out my office about a year ago, and under a pile of stained papers and useless audio tapes, I found the portable set once again.  The antenna was a little wonky - it couldn't hold itself up on its own any longer, and obviously wasn't picking up signals as strongly as it once did.

But, believe it or not, that little cathode-infused S.O.B. still worked!

And thus, I've arrived at my point.  Think about any gift you've ever been given - let alone anything "technological".  What's the longest you've ever used it for?  If dogs age 7 years for every one human year, what's the equation for gift years?  Ten years for every one human year?  That would make this portable television set about 200 years old!  

And now, through no fault of his own, Lil Tubey is being put down.  Who knows - maybe it's my fault.  Maybe it was that fateful night 19 years ago when I so callously flaunted my technological might in the face of Washington's powerful elite.  The gears started turning then, and the past has finally caught up to us.  But what a ride.

They may have made TV's bigger, brighter, thinner, or HD-ier, but they certainly haven't made them any more entertaining.  

Shoeverine: Origins

I'm loving this tease I heard for a news story about to come on - "Coming up next - we learn more about the reporter who threw his shoes at President Bush.  And what MAY have set him off..."

I'm gonna go with the YEARS AND YEARS OF BOMBINGS.

Plus, even more ridiculous was President Bush's comment that he "Didn't know what set the guy off.  Maybe he just wanted to get on TV."  You know, after eight years of being in office, I'm starting to suspect that President George W. Bush might be a little stupid.

There's No Need To Argue...

My wife gave birth to our son two months ago.  He's kind of a blob - he doesn't do much but lie there, eat, poop, and occasionally barf.  This is the wonder time of having a kid - before he's a lunatic toddler racing around the house and drawing on the walls with magic markers, or a rebellious teen mixed up in drugs, sending nude photos of himself over the internet, or robbing senior citizens.  

So far, parenting's pretty easy.  A lot of people will tell you that the worst part of  this time in a baby's life is the sleep deprivation.  But they're wrong.  

The worst part of being a parent is the fact that in all your favorite music and movies from your youth, you've suddenly gone from being the protagonist to the antagonist.  Yep, I've crossed over and now that I'm a dad, I'm officially the bad guy.

But, on the plus side, now that I have a kid, it does give me license to yell at people more often.  It's the catch all excuse - "Hey, come on!  I got a kid here!" will stops everyone in their tracks.  Someone walking a dog and they don't pick up dog poop?  "I got a kid here - come on!"  Someone cuts me off in traffic, I can honk and yell and then say "Come on, I got a kid here!"  

Grab Bag!

Just a few things that have been on my mind lately:

-That song for the Pechango Casino - the one where the woman sings "TAKE ME AWAY!!!  TO A SECRET PLAAACE!!!"  Yeah, that one.  Is it just me, or did whoever write/record that song just try a little too hard on that one?  It's just a little too intense for an ad about an Indian casino in the middle of nowhere.

-When the news does stories on fat people, they always show footage of fat people lumbering around doing mundane things but shoot them from the neck down.  I used to hate that - I always thought it made fat people look like mindless, creepy mutants.  But then I just saw a news report on fat people that showed one woman - head and all - lumbering around a voting center.  And I felt really bad for this woman, like the news was blaming HER for whatever the problem with fat people is today.  

-I was really shocked to see Prop 8 pass in California.  And in the days after the election, I watched a lot of the protest rallies on the news.  But I couldn't help but think - wasn't the best time for these "No on 8" rallies BEFORE the actual election?

-I watched the "90210" episode that was shown opposite election coverage.  But what I don't understand is why would the CW interrupt the show to tell us what's going on with the election?  Did someone at the CW really think that I wouldn't be able to find that election stuff on every other single network out there?  I mean, if you're airing 90210 against the election, you gotta go through with that decision.  

Damn You Natasha Bedingfield

At the risk of losing all my street cred, I have a weakness for the song "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield.  I wouldn't say I like the song, or if I even like her so much (although every time I see her, I think she looks like the attractive version of what Chelsea Handler thinks she is).

But that damn song - it's everywhere.  And when I hear it, I can't help myself.  It's my kryptonite.  Yes, you could even say I lose myself in it.  No, I'm not kidding.  

Here's why I bring it up - it's Friday night, around eleven o'clock.  My wife needed throat lozenges at the l and I had to pick up a prescription at our local CVS.  So as I walk in, what is blasting over the speakers?  You guessed it - "Unwritten".  

Now, all I'm there for is my prescription and some throat lozenges.  Simple enough - in and out, quick and easy in no time at all.  Certainly not long enough for Ms. Bedingfield's aural tendrils to catch me in their grip, right?

Wrong. 

No sooner am I in the lozenge aisle that all bets are off.  I couldn't control myself and before I can grab the Ludens, I find myself dancing in the pre-choreographed routine that I've (sadly) perfected during the opening credits of "The Hills".

Now, I figure "What the hell - there's literally no one shopping here.  No will see me!"  And dance I do!  So as I start dancing through the aisles, confident in the fact that I'm the only customer in the CVS, I look up and realize...

I'm not alone.

Yeah, about 5 feet away from me are the three guys standing behind the pharmacist's counter watching me.  So of course, I try to cover and pretend like my back is sore and that's why I'm flailing my arms to and fro with reckless abandon.  But it's hopeless.  

Normally I'd run out of there, jump into bed with a pint of Ben & Jerry's and cry myself to Monday but of course, the main reason I'm there is to specifically get a prescription from these pharmacists.

But I figure, hey - we're all adults here.  They're never going to bring it up.  Hell, they'd be crazy to think I would "dancing" through their pharmacy.  How preposterous!  

So as I go up to the counter and pick up the prescription, this is the first thing out of one guy's mouth:

"It's a great time to pick these up - Friday night at 11.  When you think no one's around..."

The other two quickly stifled laughs, and I realized - I was busted.  Big time.  

But hey - screw those guys, right?  I mean, if I wanna dance around in public to that ridiculously lame song, isn't that my right!?!  Who are they to judge!?!  Screw those jerks, right!?!  RIGHT???

Ugh.  I'm an idiot. With horrible taste in music.

My New Worst Enemy

So, Saturday Night Live premiered a few weeks ago.  This season, they have a new cast member named Bobby Moynihan...

Bobby did a sketch on either the first or second show where he played a waiter in a Pizzeria Uno.  Now, this sketch wasn't great but it wasn't the worst thing in the world.  But here's the problem...

I had a nightmare about that sketch.

Maybe "nightmare" is a strong word.  Here's how the dream happened:  I was in someone's apartment, and Bobby Moynihan was there.  We got into a heated argument about something, and he started to beat the shit out of me for not loving the Pizzeria Uno sketch.  

After we fougth, we apologized and made up and swore to become best friends.  And then I left the apartment, scared that Bobby was going to beat me up again when I least expected it.

Okay, so I realize this is a weird dream and it probably means I want to marry him some day.  But the problem is, every time I see him on Saturday Night Live now, there's honestly a part of me that starts to get a little scared.  And then I have to remind myself that it was just a dream - that Bobby Moynihan is not going to come after me and try to beat me up.  But by that point, I'm already shaken to the core.

So I've decided - the only way for me to resolve this is to actually find Bobby Moynihan, tell him about this, and we'll both have a good laugh about it.

And then I'll kick his ass.  Just to prove to myself I can do it.

Gold Medal DJ'ing

For me, the greatest sport to watch in the Olympics is beach volleyball.  I'll watch men's if it's on, but this is one sport that really seems better suited for women.  Or maybe just Misty May-Treanor and Kerry Walsh are better than the men's teams, but their matches are just more exciting to watch.

Anyhow, the greatest thing I've noticed in these games is the DJ.  After each score, someone, somewhere in the stadium is blasting the cheesiest rock songs!  It's like a strip club out there - seriously, as I'm typing this, Japan scored on the USA men's team and "Who Let The Dogs Out" started playing.  

Who is this DJ?  Is there an Olympic trial for beach volleyball DJ's?  Is it this "dream team" collection of people like Samantha Ronson, DJ AM, Rosanna Arquette, and whoever else competing against the best and brightest around the world for this coveted spot?  

Because if so, they chose HORRIBLY.  They went from "Hang On Sloopy" to that Cab Calloway "Hi-De-Ho" song to "Livin' On A Prayer" by Bon Jovi.

Car Wars

My biggest fear in life is being buried alive.

My second biggest fear in life is going to jail.

My third biggest fear?  Sounding like a cranky 80 year old man who complains about everything.  But unfortunately, I have to put that fear aside and complain to the high heavens about the good folks at Century West BMW in Studio City, California.

It all started about 6 months ago.  My car needed an oil change.  No biggie.  Places that change your oil are so common in Los Angeles, I think they've started doing that at Pollo Loco nowadays.

But instead of taking it to the easiest, most convenient (re: CHEAP) place I could find, I decided to take it to the dealer.  Now, I've always heard that taking your car to the dealer is a sucker move - that places will do it cheaper and faster and whatnot.  But I wasn't exactly sure if my car was still under warranty or not, thus making it free at the dealership.

Well, the car isn't under warranty anymore but I had them change the oil anyway.  Okay - great, no biggie, done and done, I pick it back up and take the car home.

The next day, it won't start.

The car's not giving me even the tiniest whimper of power, the stereo won't turn on, the power locks and power windows won't even operate, none of the lights will come on at all.  Okay, so in my limited knowledge of car ins-and-outs, I know something's screwed up here.  So, since he had the car the whole day prior, I call the dealer to find out what's wrong.  

And he blames me.

Yeah.  He blames me for every single ounce of power being completely sucked out of the car in a 24 hour period, when the truth is all I did in that timespan was pick the car up and drive it 4 miles home.

So, after plenty of nasty words were exchanged, we got to the bottom of this.  Basically what had happened was that the workers dealing with my car disconnected the battery and didn't properly resecure it.  So it still had some juice running through it - about enough to power the car for a 4 mile ride home and that's it.

Okay, major hurdle solved - AAA came out and fixed it in no time flat, and didn't charge me a cent.  However, one thing that did happen - in the haste to try and get the hood open, a piece of plastic moulding on the car broke, and was left dangling off the side.

So here's the score after round one  - ME:  car fixed, minus half the plastic moulding dangling off the front.  DEALERSHIP - promised me a free auto detailing for my troubles.

Cut to - about a month later.  I'm taking the car back to the dealer to take them up on their offer for free detailing and to fix the moulding.

This is a pretty quick round.  The detailing goes fine.  The plastic moulding doesn't - apparently they didn't have the clips to fix the moulding, and I'd have to set ANOTHER appointment to do that.  Sigh.

So as I get the newly detailed car home, and certain things in the garage are shuffled around, a soda can falls to the ground and EXPLODES all over the side of my newly detailed car.  Shit.

So I quickly take the car to get cleaned at one of those drive-through car washers.  And wouldn't you know it?  As I pull through, the plastic moulding (that was scheduled to be repaired) is broken off in the car wash.

END OF ROUND TWO - ME:  clean car, plastic moulding completely 100% ripped off.  DEALERSHIP - not sweating it.

Round three begins a couple weeks later.  On top of the moulding broken off, I finally realize that the dealership never reset the countdown thing on my odometer that tells me when I need a new oil change.  On top of that, and I'm not blaming anyone in particular for this one, my passenger side window won't roll down.

So here it is today -  the start of round three.  The time for these guys to fix all my stuff, get the car back to working order, and amicably part ways.

Well, that didn't happen.  Oh sure - they fixed the window, they fixed the plastic thing, and they even reset the countdown on my oil change timer.  

But the workers broke my stereo.  

Seriously.  They demolished the docking cord for my iPod, which I just had installed about 2 months ago.  

So now I have to wait till for the dealership's management to call me in a few days and let me know how they want to proceed with this.  I'm not sure why "just handing me cold hard cash" isn't options #1, 2, and 3, but we shall see.  So in the meantime...

END OF ROUND THREE - ME:  stereo broken.  DEALERSHIP:  really starting to piss me off.