Window wiping is fascinating

Does anybody else get mesmerized by the swirly patterns that window wipers make when they clean windows?

Something in my brain is still fascinated by how a soapy window becomes sparkling clean after a squeegee passes over it.

I can literally watch this for hours.

The lady behind me is crazy

Seriously, this chick is certifiably nuts.

And let me tell you, when there's someone crazy sitting behind you, rather than next to you, you are in a much better position to assess their mental instability.

When she sat next to me - in two memorable instances that I'd rather have wiped from my brain - I was simply too frightened to comprehend her ramblings. She has a good 100 lbs. on me and I lapsed into New York crazy person defense mode (or NYCPM) - do not move an inch, pretend to read your book, and make contingency plans for when they attack.

I didn't think I'd have to use NYCPM while on a suburban light rail line in Pennsylvania, but things happen.

When she sat down behind me (and, by the way, I never looked to see who it was; I just knew), I felt at least a little relieved that she had found a seat all her own. But then, being free of her, I was able to really hone in on the conversation. Here's a little piece:

Oh, you're a good girl. Good girl, yes. Who's there? Daddy? Oh, no Mommy. Mommy won't like that. No. Good girl.

I wish I had a recorder. It was kind of like Gollum, if he had the voice of that weird little woman from Poltergeist.

This shit really doesn't help my commute.

eBay sucks

What the hell happened to this place?!

I go away for a year or two (or three) and suddenly I can't sell squat. I know I don't have the most quality goods around (some magazines, a hat - both collectible) but I put these things up at bargain basement prices and I can't get so much as a bid.

Has eBay sold out?

Methinks this is the case. I don't see normal people selling things anymore; it's all "shops" and people who do it as a business and have the whole thing automated and templatized. That's not how eBay is supposed to work.

I thought the idea was that it would be a grand flea market, a kind of auction house for and by us common folks. Somewhere along the line, eBay became just another sales channel (but specialized for retailers who like to work in pajamas instead of at a store).

And that sucks. Nobody wants to bother with auctions anymore and the little guy can't compete on price. Thus, my junk doesn't sell. Thus, my junk clutters my apartment. Thus, I cannot move.

eBay, you broke my heart. And my wallet.

Goodbye.

Eric Clapton is a bell curve

OK, so I'm not too good with the picture thing. I could probably use some Photoshop skills.

But on to the topic at hand ...

I had just finished the last disc of the Eric Clapton box set, when I realized:

"There's nothing worse than latter-day Eric Clapton."

It's true: the man has gone from guitar god to R&B mess in a few short decades. I have no idea how to really plot a bell curve, but by the above picture, I figure he's just about at +25. If he attempts anymore music, especially anymore reggae or pop, he's doomed.

Just for reference, I'd put his high point (X) at Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs in 1970, with his Cream years just before it on the ascent. The descent, I believe was much slower, but has really taken on steam in the past few years, during which he reconvened Cream as an attempt to regain his mojo.

I'd love to really get in to this chart and make it a little more accurate to Clapton's overall arch, but my nerdiness is currently at its ebb and I will leave the task to someone with more free time, more skills, and more readers.

Conference Room Envy

Occasionally, during the course of my job, I get to travel to new and exotic locales in Pennsylvania. These are always office parks.

And within these office parks are offices, some of which I will visit.

And within these offices, I will probably see a handful of rooms, only one of which I will actually get to spend any time in: The Conference Room.

Today, I was in a nice one. Automatic screen, big oak table, nice comfy chairs and big windows to the outside world (i.e. some trees in a parking lot).

It was much nicer than the one at our office and I found myself daydreaming about spending all of my time in this den of business leisure. I wondered if I could live a whole year in just this one room - eating, sleeping, delivering powerpoint presentations on nothing.

Eventually, I was forced to leave the conference room. But it will always haunt my dreams.

TV is torture

I'm not the most conservative guy on the block, but something's a little wrong when our designated national hero (Jack Bauer, natch) viscerally rips into the neck of a baddie, killing him, and spits out a piece of said neck into a bloody mess on the floor.

At 8:30 on a Sunday night.

I realize network TV has to compete with cable, but seriously. 24 is literally one "fuck" away from an HBO show.

Keep in mind, this is the same network - Fox - that was forced to put a disclaimer on the OC when it showed just a little too much teenage sex and not enough teenage consequences. (Remember, kids, you'll only get pregnant if you're the hispanic chick from the bad neighborhood!)

So, I'm asking nicely ... can we cool it with the snuff-film antics and just concentrate on the action? Pretty please with a finger hacksaw on top?

Things that should not be ...

I don't ever want to hear the following again on a Tuesday following a Monday holiday that I didn't have off:

"So, ya have a nice weekend? What'd ya do yesterday?"

It makes my Tuesday feel like Monday again, and that's something nobody appreciates.

Steve Jobs is an automaton

I'm trying to figure this out. Does Steve Jobs wear the same semi-turtleneck black shirt for every Apple announcement, or does he have a million of the same one?

Steve Jobs may be like a superhero. He's got this secret closet, hidden behind the fireplace, that holds about a hundred hangers with those black shirts. Some are battle-damaged, others are thermal (ya know, for arctic action), but most are just his signature uniform.

The other option is that Steve Jobs - or who we believe to be Steve Jobs - is nothing more than a robot decoy. The real Steve Jobs hatched this scheme whereby he would wear the same basic costume out in public, easing the visual transition from real human to PR android.

Meanwhile, the real Steve Jobs (if he even exists!) is living like some techy hermit, high in the mountains of Tibet, trying to figure out how to hardwire an iPod into your brain.

Or maybe, this Steve Jobs robot is a sophisticatead prototype of the next generation Apple product. And one day soon, Steve Jobs will walk out on that stage with nothing in his hands and simply peel off his face and present ...

The iSteve.

The Power Rangers are still on

So, I was at the gym this morning getting back to my usual state of super-buffness when I saw something on the TV that shocked me.

That's right, the frickin' Power Rangers.

I don't get it. How the hell is this show still on?

Let's go down the list. Arrested Development? Gone. Freaks and Geeks? Gone.

Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers. Still here.

And talk about morphin! Remember that sequence that used to show the average-shlubs turning into superheroes and then getting into their Voltron-like vehicles?

Well, that's pretty much the majority of the show now. It's like a stretched out, demented kiddie version of the heroin slam cut from Requiem for a Dream.

How perverse is that?

The "I have nothing to write" post

As you may or may not have noticed, I'm running a little dry on ideas. Nothing comes to mind.

Literally, nothing.

When this happens, I go to wikipedia.org and look around. But I don't feel like writing about that either.

I will blame the lack of quality brain vomit on the year 2007, since everyone else seems so high on it.

Damn you, 2007!

When picking avocados ...

Always bet on black.