Happy New Year. I'm fresh back from a wicked Xmas in the Southern Virginia Piedmont region. It's not the most vibrant place on earth, but they do kick ass at four particular things.
1. Expressing themselves vehicularly.
This is no mere miracle of automotive engineering and sound judgment. It teaches a lesson, too. And most people in the region have heard this lesson loud and clear.
That's at the Best Western in Martinsville, Va., where the lounge scene is bitchin' but the free breakfast buffet is like a kick in the groin from Superman.
3. Combining two things they love into one Super-Thing.
4. Turning an unhealthy passion into a multi-million dollar empire.
That's Biscuitville, a fast food joint that's exactly what it sounds like. Fifty locations across southern VA and northern NC. Greasy, salty joy with no "nutrition" info to gum up the works.
I dig Seattle. I really do. I'd totally live there if it weren't the furthest possible point in the lower 48 from the Motherland. Oh, to be one of those carefree US Americans who do not have maps.
The Emerald City is something special, surrounded on all sides by water and mountains, cloaked in cedars and pines. Seattle lives up to its best stereotypes -- the coffee obsession, the beards, the mountain bikers, the smack junkies. God bless Seattle. It would be a damn shame if the whole region were to be buried in white-hot pyroclactic boulders and ash.
In my prior travel post, astute commenter Asa left:
I note that several of these shots could be submitted to Vice's "Do's and Don'ts." Mostly "Don'ts."
Thank you, Asa. The only problem is that I'm such a fashion retard that I usually can't tell a Do from a Don't until I read the hilarious, hilarious copy.
So, help me out with this precious specimen posted up at Pike Street Market. Do, or Don't?
The cigarette holder. The hat that implies non-civilian authority. The ear hair that protects field mice from owls. I say, DO!
***
On another topic: Deadspin's Dan Shanoff suggested that any college football poll voter who put Michigan in its top 25 should be kicked out of the poll.
There is no reason that, with more than 60 NCAA teams that actually won
their season-openers (most against -- gasp! -- 1-A opponents), a team
that is 0-1 with that one loss coming to a 1-AA team (again: at home!)
should be ahead of 25 [sic, should be 35] of them
Lo and be-freaking-hold, Michigan effectively ranked 27th (yes, barely out of the official rankings) on the USA Today coaches' poll, and still got plenty of AP votes. At this point, I can't even claim to understand what the polls are supposed to mean if a home loss to Appalachian State still keeps you on many voters' top 25 lists.
And this will be one of the last punts kicked to DeSean Jackson this season. Good golly.
I have quit my job. I am done. There's a different job at another company waiting for me.
I was at the old job for more than five years. It was, overall, a very good job.
Among the things I will miss about my old, good job was the opportunity for exotic domestic travel. While I failed to take my camera to the likes of Des Moines and Ogden, I didn't always forget.
Is Whitney Houston running the reservation system at Orbitz? I was researching flights to Dublin next fall, and this was the third-cheapest one that Orbitz delivered.
For the record, that's San Francisco to Las Vegas, 40 minute layover, to Chicago, 10 hour overnight layover, to Charlotte, 7 hour layover, to Philly, 100-minute layover, to Dublin, Total travel time: almost 35 hours.
Return trip: Dublin to Philly, 85-minute layover, to Charlotte, two hour layover, to Phoenix, 11-hour overnight layover, to SF. Total travel time: 30 hours.
That's seven stops between endpoints, 65 hours of time in planes and airports. Supersonic.
For 30 bucks less, you could fly SF to Heathrow, 90-minute layover, to Dublin.
***
Finally, how much do we miss Bobby & Whitney? And how awesome is The Soup (nee Talk Soup) again?
***
Mere minutes before the 2007 NFL playoffs commence, here are my weekend picks. I went 7-3 last season vs. the spread. Not too shabby, eh? (For some reason I skipped picking the Big Game. Go fig.)
Before we start, let's note the stat that matters most this postseason. This was supposed to be the year when the sad, sad NFC caught up to the AFC in play quality, but in 2006 the AFC playoff teams went 21-3 against the NFC, while the NFC playoff teams only went 10-14 against the AFC. In fact, the Cowboys were the only team in the entire NFC with a winning record against the other conference. Yes, Dallas was the tallest midget.
1. KC +7 at Indianapolis: The Chiefs have the best workhorse runningback in the league. The Colts have the softest rushing defense in modern NFL history. Chiefs run, run, run. Colts forced to slow down their offense to give their D a rest. It won't be as high-scoring as you think. Also, Peyton Manning is not Mr. January.
2. Dallas +3 at Seattle: Both teams come limping into the playoffs, with the Cowboys suffering a humiliating home loss to Detroit. Seattle's defensive backs are on life support, just in case their run defense wasn't spongey enough. Dallas wins. Also, Super Bowl losers always collapse the next year -- Seattle making the playoffs is more a function of the NFC West's sorrow than anything else.
3. New York +8.5 at New England: The Patriots are the sleeper team in the AFC, but the Jets won their last game in Foxboro, and lost by a mere 7 at home in September. They don't match up great on paper, but Mangini has shown Belichickian game-planning skills. The Patriots win the first post-season Wesleyan Bowl, but the Jets keep it close.
4. Philadelphia -7 vs. New York: Philly's the hottest team in the NFL, led by an explosive, Garcia-based passing game. They won six straight against NFC opponents. The Giants' defense is as average as it can get, and the uber-average Eli Manning is their QB.
It's not too late to call your bookie, which is illegal, and I do not condone.
***
Update (Sunday night): 3-1 straight up, only 1-3 vs. the spread. I told you not to call your bookie.
On a flight back from Vegas a couple months ago, I spotted this curiosity out the window.
(Click on it to make it bigger.)
You're peepin' at the opposite of a ghost town, an embryo of a metropolis that has absolutely no business ever existing. It's the California-side suburbs of Pahrump, Nevada, a boomtown blooming in the Nevada desert for no reason whatsoever. Pahrump's population has exploded from 2,000 in 1980 to more than 44,000 in 2005, and it's moved beyond the brothels and Art Bell what made it famous.
Pahrump's also been the setting for the last two episodes of Studio 60, serving both as a verbal joke and a straw man for heartland values. And just in case you're one of those Hollywood commie types who don't believe the life of a town begins at conception, you should know that most of these roads to nowhere have names.
I'll see you on the corner of Rosie Ave and Shirley Rd. Now where's that Chicken Ranch?
What did you do on the fifth anniversary of 9/11? Did you
celebrate death like the TV networks did? Did you rally support for a
military deployment that stopped being a "war" years ago, like
President Bush did?
Did you fly domestically, like I did? If so: It was great,
wasn't it? Easily the deadest I've seen the airports... ever. This is SFO at around 7:40am yesterday, which on your typical Monday at that hour is a rowdy zoo of business travelers and weekenders going home from seeing grandma:
For the most part, economy class business travel blows. But if there's one joy to it, it's
exposure to America's sweetest horrible newspaper, USA Today. And here
are four things the world learned from this rainbow-hued publication the last
two days:
1. Nobody has a fucking clue how to secure airplanes.
As I described two weeks ago, the pathetic, uselessly reactive liquids-and-gels ban,
as being executed, generates annoyance and inconvenience without actually providing security. You want to bring toothpaste on your overnight trip? Then
you better get a snack, cuz you're going to wait 45 minutes at baggage claim
with the college kids bringing home their laundry. Or, you could just put the
toothpaste or any liquid or gel, explosive or not, in your pants pocket
and dance through the metal detectors unimpeded.
When you get past TSA, you could always pick up
something to drink, but since liquids and gels are "banned" from the
cabin, you have to ditch it before you board. Salad dressing is okay, but only
if you dump it on your salad first. An extra tub of Cinnabon goo is no problem
in its original packaging, however. Or, you could just stuff your water, salad dressing,
or any liquid or gel, explosive or not, in a bag. They don't check.
"Right now, I don't know what alternatives we
have," said Rep. John Mica, R-Fla., chairman of the House aviation
subcommittee. "Until we can put other [security] measures in place, I
think we're sort of stuck with it."
What we're stuck with, Rep. Mica (R - POTN), is a
security system that's so full of voluntary compliance and pointless symbolic gestures that that it's effectively based on
the honor system. And Homeland Security and your fellow members of Congress assume this the best possible system at this time. That is, until someone gets
caught with C-4 in his underpants, and then TSA has to start subjecting all travelers
to a sound whupping with a Nerf Crotch Bat. Yippee.
2. Texans aren't very bright. And that's just when dealing with Chinese fast food:
Texans know their barbecue. But lots of them apparently
don't know their Chinese food. The top question at the 10 Panda Express stores
opened in Texas this year is "What's orange chicken?"
Shit, I don't know. Maybe it's fetal penguins with in a kumquat sauce. How are Texas schools doing on reading comprehension these days?
3. Women are stupider than men. At least, that's what the progressive minds at Baylor
University insist. Here is a subset of superstitions that women are more
likely than men to "agree/strongly agree" with, according to Baylor's
survey:
Dreams can sometimes foretell the future or reveal hidden
truths. (59% of women agree/strongly agree)
Astrologers, palm readers, tarot card readers,
fortunetellers, psychics can foresee the future. (18%)
Astrology affects one's life and personality. (20%)
Ancient advanced civilizations such as Atlantis once
existed. (45%)
It is possible to communicate with the dead. (27%)
Are you kidding me? Tarot cards? Atlantis? Do you
believe in goblins, too? Do you vote? Please tell me you don't vote.
By the way, men gave two paranormal statements more love than women
did: "Some alternative treatments are at least as effective as traditional
medicine" and "Some UFOs are probably spaceships from other
worlds," both of which are also wholeheartedly endorsed by Tom Cruise.
"It would be like the Holy Grail for a trivia person to
become trivia. In 10 years, some Trivial Pursuit game is going to hinge on who
can remember the name of the geeky Mormon guy who won on Jeopardy in
2004."
Ken, we like your wacky personal blog, but you're not half as dreamy as Lt. Tom
McKee. *Sigh.*
Nothing defines "failure of imagination" like our beloved TSA. A British nudnik tries to blow up his shoe, so all our shoes become weapons. Some British Muslims concoct a plan to smuggle liquid explosives onto a plane, and now we get this:
This is the scene at the security line at SFO. (No, the pic isn't crooked; the floor is all slanty.)
Yep, the key phrase is now "No Guns, No Gatorade." And just like they x-ray your shoes, inconveniencing you and possibly imperiling your health, while still leaving terrorists about 74 other places to stow their C-4 on their bodies, TSA has implemented some new rules:
If you bring any sort of beverages to the airport, you must leave them in a pile on the floor near the metal detectors. You can, however, continue to sneak in a Ziploc of liquid explosives in your crotch. Talk to anyone who regularly attends college football games for tips.
You may take liquid medicine with you if it's in a prescription bottle. Or, if you prefer, liquid explosive or poison if it's in a prescription bottle.
You may not bring gels such as toothpaste or hair products in your carry-on luggage, so business travelers are urged to brush and shower thoroughly before their business trips.
Once through security, you may buy beverages, but you may not bring them on the plane. You may, however, bring food on the plane, which means that you can take salad dressing on board if already dumped on your salad before boarding, but you can't take it in a separate cup. The emulsified sugar goo they sell at Cinnabon, however, is okay to take separately, for some reason. I'm not sure if they'll let you bring neither-solid-nor-liquid airport foods like TCBY on board. Cream-filled doughnuts seem to be controversial.
Which bring up a question... Is TSA checking that Cinnabon hasn't been infiltrated by Al Qaeda operatives? You could blow up a 747 with what you could fit in one hollowed-out Bon. Or a whole terminal at Dulles with what you could stuff inside one of those six-packs to go. (You could argue that Cinnabon itself is a terrorist organization, albeit one that kills very slowly.)
Okay, so the TSA's "Security Theater" is a meaningless routine that costs our economy billions of dollars without actually improving security very much. As I mentioned a few months ago, the terrorists win by making us stupider. Just think, if Richard Reid had successfully brought down the plane with his shoe bomb, we never would have known about his tactics, and we could still keep our shoes on at security without actually making us any less secure (since terrorists can still smuggle explosives, say, in their socks). But since we have this knowledge, our TSA makes us trudge barefoot through a petting zoo of fungi and germs to no discernible security advantage.
And meanwhile, ghetto-ass airports like Philadelphia (look right) can't focus on important things like giving us a decent place to park our Cinnabon-bloated asses.
Coming soon: Why my uncle believes that the ACLU, not reality, is what's preventing TSA agents from effectively profiling Islamic fundamentalists.
Another weekend, another visit to Sin City. Yes, you have every right to be concerned, suspicious, and even a wee queasy.
At least I wasn't there to get married, or as they probably call it at the Best-in-Las-Vegas Star Trek Wedding Chapel, assimiliated:
At the Hilton, a widescreen TV showed the original Star Wars with "$1,000,000.00" flashing across the top. Why? Because Chewbacca is f***ing money.
One thing you can count on in the LV, besides gratuitous fanny packs, slovenly Red-Staters in "GIT-R-DONE" t-shirts, and indoor air that could corrode KITT, is extravagant buffets. Once the best meal deal on the planet, LV has jacked up buffet prices closer to... reasonable. But it's still the greatest carnival of obscenity this side of Rick Santorum's basement.
That, my friends, is 20% of the Hilton's dessert bar at breakfast, 9:30am Sunday. In LV, every day is your birthday, you emotionally-stunted tangle of Freudian frayed ends. This should be their new TV slogan: "Las Vegas: Sugar away your slot machine losses. Now tell your kid she's only going to community college." Not too catchy, but honest.
The good news is that not everyone sucks down cream cheese frosting for breakfast. Our table-neighbors, for example, picked at some Special K. (Click for detail.)
I hope she used Splenda in her mochachino, too.
I know, I know. That's three tripsto Nevada in the last 10 weeks. After 48 hours of stomach purging, sauna shvitzing, and Blue Bottle espresso enemas, I feel prepared to reintegrate myself into society. And may Nevada not enter my thoughts again, at least until Bowl season.
After much delay, the Kauai pics are done. It's the Germans' fault. (Speaking of which, was Italy's victory in Dortmund on July 4th the best single match in any sport this decade? Yes, it was. Are these World Cup Finals revealing the Olympic Games to be a silly extended TV special? Yes, they are.)
Anyway, Kauai is the best place on Earth, and anyone who says otherwise is a lying scoundrel who couldn't even get elected to the SF Board of Supervisors. See evidence at Flickr.
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