Archives for March 2008

I guess this is what happens when you choose to don your leathers and mount your Harley, Indian, or other V-twin on an Easter Sunday morning rather than getting all clean cut and heading out to the local place of national imaginary friend worship to invoke the blessings of your magical spirits.

I just took these 10 photos in the space of just a few minutes over on Coleman avenue, less than a mile from my place. I headed out to breakfast (ironically enough, for ham & eggs) and on my way out, the San Jose Police were even more in force, and I saw more than one peaceful looking biker in handcuffs. I didn’t think to grab my iPhone and begin snapping. But even after 45-minutes or so, there were still plenty. Looks like they were having some rally in a parking lot off on a side street. There were booths and such set up, so I guess it was something the city was aware of…just a sec…Ok, here you go. Here is your imminent danger to civil society, the Ancient Iron Motorcycle Club. Ooooh, scary. What’s the world coming to, when evil can get hold of and restore old motorcycles and create websites?

Side note: my favorite bike of all time is the original Chief, by Indian (I just saw two pristine specimens). Until a couple of years ago, I owned one of the new ones and it was a pleasure.

These were all quick one-handed snaps while driving, but I’ve cropped them all to highlight the essentials. They’re below the fold and I really have but one comment: why is this called for? Who were these people hurting, or going to hurt? Alright, one more comment. Do you have any sense that it might be a bit risky for me, living here in San Jose, snapping pictures of San Jose Police, posting them on my blog, and implying they’re a bunch of pigs? Yea? Then my point is made. And indeed, it is risky.

…

Read More

This is pretty funny.

We did some pretty infantile stuff in college, but I never had even the slightest desire to associate with any fraternity house. I did once get invited and go to one of their parties (kegger — what else?) and it was perhaps the shallowest spectacle I’ve ever witnessed in my life — on the part of both the "brothers" and the sorority "sisters" from various places down the street.

Actually, it all reminds me a lot of when I happen to surf into a NatGeo episode on the TV anthropologically dissecting some form of bizarre primitive tribal ritual or something. Seriously.

My dorm mate and I eventually moved out and rented an apartment together during our senior year, and it happened to be just across the street from one of the very popular frat houses at Oregon State (PKE, I think). It only ever solidified my disdain.

To this very day, if someone tells me they were a brother or sister in this or that fraternity or sorority, then they start off with a bad first impression with me. I’m willing to overcome it, but it rarely ever happens (Radley Balko being a notable exception). There’s just something about it, and it seems to be fairly general. I’d say it has a lot to do with a sense of individuality, and I loath people who don’t have a sense of individuality. Wait: hate and loath.

Later: Well, Jesus, that was quick. Balko has taken down the entry. No idea why and I don’t recall him ever taking anything down before. Maybe a glitch? Anyway, here was the text (If asks me to take it down, I will.)

To the Person Who Keeps Editing My Wikipedia Page:

You know who you are. I know who you are. Stop adding the frat to my “education” section.

Seriously, man. It’s not that I’m ashamed of having joined our fraternity. It’s not that I’m ashamed of the particular fraternity I joined. It’s that, well, I’m 33-years-old. It’s just not a milestone event in my life anymore, ya’ know?

You are also now in your 30s. Most people let go of the frat by about their senior year in college. Don’t you have better things to do than to surf the Internet to make sure people are paying proper respect to “the brotherhood?”

Seriously, man. Put the beer funnel down, and step away from the computer. I’m sure rush will go just fine next year whether or not Radley Balko has “Theta Chi” on his Wikipedia page.

The last sentence of comment number two on Boston’s trans fat ban pretty much sums it up.

What next, setting a bedtime for us?

Number 14 isn’t bad, either.

I would like to see a ban on politicians. They make people sick and poor.

I’d add stupid.

There are a few other good comments and good points, and it’s in some measure gratifying to see that Boston isn’t totally devoid of human adults; but if you want to get a good taste of the collectivized, eusocial mentality of most people, go read those comments.

Oh, and get a look at fat face Boston Mayor, Thomas M. Menino. The difference between a fat fuck like him, and a formerly fat guy like me is that I took it upon myself to do something about it.

Do you have any idea to what depths I hate people like this?

My last preparation was a pork loin, and here you have a leg of lamb with some broccoli and water chestnuts.

Here it was just before going into the oven.

It was pretty easy and quick. It's just a bit of olive oil, crushed garlic, some dried spices of your own choosing, several pats of unsalted butter, and onions. 10 minutes at 475, turn it over for another 10 minutes at 475, then reduce to 325 for about 25-30 minutes.

In the meantime, I took about a dozen or so blueberries and about a half dozen red seedless grapes which I cut into quarters. Into a bowl, with just about a tablespoon or so of red wine, and nuked it for 30 seconds. Then I crushed it all up and set aside. Once the lamb came out, I placed it on a plate to settle and went to work on the sauce. I deglazed the pan drippings with some red wine on the stove. Then I added the fruit crush, and then about a quarter cup each of heavy cream and coconut milk to thicken up and boost the fat content. The sauce was killer. And oh, by that time the meat had settled and given up some of its juices onto the place. Of course, that got stirred right back into the sauce.

Yummy. By the way? That's Bea's portion. Mine was far larger, with more sauce and thus more fat. Her plate made for a better picture, though.

So in conjunction with digitizing all my "Earth Class Mail," I’ve been going around and registering with all of my vendors that have online capability, as more and more companies are providing the ability to view monthly statements online. This will reduce the amount of physical mail I get, and in many cases I can pay the bill online with a stored debit card, and it’s just a few clicks. Otherwise, I pay via my own online banking (I’ve used online bill pay since 1992 or ’93).

I’ve got two loans that were purchased by GMAC Mortgage. At some point last year I registered on their site with my standard username I use everywhere. Apparently, due to lack of continued use it was placed in an inactive status. So, naturally, once I want use their online features again, I have them reactivate the account. Oh, no. Can’t do that. You must re-register anew. And guess what other "service" they provide? You get to have an all new username; that is, you must choose a new username.

So I wrote them, and of course the first response I get back is that I have to pick a new username because the one I want is already taken by someone else. I had to write back requesting that they forward my ticket to someone with the time, ability, and inclination to actually read my ticket and understand the issue. Here’s what I get in round two:

Dear Customer,

Please accept our apology for the delay in our response.

In response to your inquiry, you must choose a different username to use online.  The username ****** has been used by yourself once.  A username is not able to be used more than one time on our system, by the same user or another customer.  We are unable to move this username to active status for you.

For your protection, we have removed your name, account number, address and phone number from your original inquiry.  If you have any further questions, please contact us through our Web site at…

My response:

That’s stupid, since it’s my username in the first place; so I’m not interested in your online services. Just continue to mail my two statements every month. I would be interested in receiving my statements via your web interface, as well as making payment online, but only with my commonly used username of ****** that I use virtually everywhere.

And here’s another thing: don’t tell me you’re "unable." That’s bullshit. It’s an outright lie. You simply won’t do it for a customer, so you can all go to hell, as far as I’m concerned.

And here’s another another thing: Note to GMAC Mortgage: Go To Hell.

Richard Nikoley

Stay with me. Though not long in words, it’s long in attention.

I’m just not up to blogging anything "substantive" just now (the looming disaster called an "election" will keep), so let me toss up something I’d had on my mind — music wise. …I like girl rockers who can really deliver power vocals. You know: like a Grace Slick, or even Joplin (in micro doses). And of course, who else could be my touchstone for this sort of thing but the sweet Ann Wilson (that’s perhaps the best link of the post, so if you don’t stick for the four minutes into the 8:24m track it takes to Rock, you’ll miss out).

But let’s go back about 12 years or so. Her name is Tracy Bonham, and — frankly — I have not much of an idea of her work in total; just one song. I was doing something in my apartment and this performance, Mother Mother, came on the TV with her doing it live, in a short skirt (oh, yea!) playing electric violin. I was jaw-dropped blown away and I never, ever forgot it. Then, a few months ago, my friend Karen blogged about Blue Man Group and I revisited the whole thing.

I’ve had this in my favs for some months, mildly itching to blog about it, but feel totally free to click back once you get the idea. Only; I couldn’t work myself up to it. You know, in the industry, it’s a "production value." To me? It was just so far away from the performance I saw. I just couldn’t show you that, as any sort of representation of my honest take on it. Well, at long last, here’s a very close approximation (you’ll really want to watch the whole thing). That, live, making the real thing, is just a jewel and I love it. Take particular note at 2:18. She is convincing, doing that.

Zazingo. What is it? What will it do? Who benefits, and how? What does it cost?

You’ll find out; and soon, I hope.