I Missed the Sweetest Memo.

Apparently New York is cupcake town. As I've been walking around, reacquainting myself with the neighborhood, I began to see them. Cupcake shops, like Starbucks, only not selling coffee, and not on every corner, and not Uber-corporate. Actually, it's nothing like Starbucks.

Anywho, I have ventured into one such establishment twice thus far. Crumbs, located on 3rd Ave and 77th, is filled with cupped cake confections based on popular Hostess and Drakes Cakes flavors. I started with the Devil Dog variety.

It was a disappointment, though pretty to look at. The cake was bland and the creme...well...bland too. But maybe I picked the wrong flavor?

This time, I got the Oreo variety. On first whiff, I was psyched...but two bites in....hurl central.

I'm gonna keep trying, but I think I'll work my own neighborhood for a while. Walk the beat. Work off the previous two cupcakes. Chase it with some Yoo-Hoo.

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Mix Tape CD in the Mail.

My wife sent me a mix CD in the mail. That is the coolest sh*t ever.

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Shopper's Pair o' Dice.

What Amazon store would you like to see opened? Since they have already opened hardware, jewelry, clothing, toys etc....it will be hard for them to break into any new markets.

Here's a suggestion or two:

Amazon Pimpin Shop - Pimpin just got a little easier.
Amazon Doomsday Device Shop - Finally, Doomsday got a little easier.
Amazon Religion Shop - Where Would Jesus Shop?

What other stores would you like to see?

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When Barbers Attack.

It's been a while since I've been back to my mulleted old barber. Sadly he wasn't there to give me my cut, so I scoped out the place for another candidate.

The rule of thumb, as I understand it, is look for the guy with the worst haircut. The theory being that he is the best, and all others know it. This unfortunately failed for me.

I'll spare you the photograph, but think jarhead meets egghead, add a dash of Grimley and you're there. Luckily for me, it will largely grow back before I see my wife in June.

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Inappropriately Dressed for Success.

The Government has issued a warning to Americans to keep an eye out for suicide bombers. The criteria to look out for are:

1. Wearing inappropriate, bulky clothing, for the weather.
2. A chemical smell.
3. Wires hanging out of clothing or parcels.
4. Persons disguised as pregnant women.

It's clear to me, that the representatives from Homeland Security have never walked around New York. Between the old man with the transistor radio plugged into his ear, wearing a scarf, hat and three-piece suit because this 90° weather is giving him a chill, and the canine and human urine soaked street, I'm at a bit of a loss of who I should be looking for.

But those preggos...I'm keepin' an eye on them. Them's trouble.

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Earthstink and Time Warner Schmable.

Well, it was nice while it lasted. Time Warner, who is selling Earthlink highspeed, showed up, on time, for their appointment Tuesday. Within minutes I was back. Back to my bloglines, which I agree with George as to it's adquatulance(sic); Back to iChat, back to the iTunes Music Store...back back back...for 30 hours. Wednesday night, the four blinky lights went down to two, and stayed there. So, so sad.

After numerous customer service calls, complaints, pleads, and whimpers they agreed to send out a 'technician' today.

Well, today came and went.

Apparently it's not my apartment that's the problem. It's the wiring outside the apartment. Apparently I need another appointment to put new wiring in. Apparently the 'technician' is not authorized to put in new wiring, so he will have to call the head office to give me a new installation date. Apparently the next installation date isn't until next Thursday. Apparently deadlines won't wait...Apparently.

So, I didn't want you to think that I had lost the writing bug, or that anything terrible had happened to your faithful author. I will post when I can. But next Thursday the revolution begins again. Either that, or another call to 212-619-0900, ext 2, 3, 1, 1, English or Spanish? 1, 2, hang up, 1-800-SCR-EWED.

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Out The Window.

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Snowman To His Bandit.

I've never driven such a large truck long distance before. But if I was going to do it, I was going to do it right.

The night before the big move, George and Josh came over to help me load up the rig. As you've read before, U-Haul screwed up my order, so when I finally got a truck it was almost 5:30 pm. By 2:00 am the truck was packed to the brim. That's not to say that we couldn't have gotten it all into a 17 footer, but it would have been tricky.

With 3 hours of solid sleep (due to a cold), we set off, me in my semi-semi, and Josh, very Reynoldsesque, in the Passat. In true trucker style I was looking for some way to stay awake. Seeing that without an 8-track, I was Motörheadless, all I can say is God bless the iTrip, because after 3 hours of the "Jesus Freak Bible Studies and Conversion Show Sans Commercial Interruptions", I was out for blood.

Not to get to into it all, the apartment is coming together nicely. Friends have already dropped by and pitched in with the unpack. And Mr. Thundercleese Catsworth, like Stella, has got is groove back.

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ScrU-Haul.

Reservation
res·er·va·tion     P   Pronunciation Key  (rzr-vshn)
n.
1. The act of reserving; a keeping back or withholding.
2. Something that is kept back or withheld.

Well, not according to the folks at U-Haul. Apparently, reservation means locking in a rate, but having no guarantee that there will be a truck avaliable.

So in true Davidissimo form, I researched, panicked, freaked and pondered my choices. Wait for a possible truck from U-Haul, or rent a 4:30 PM guaranteed ubertruck from Penske.

Penske it is; mind is at ease. But we shall see when 4:30 rolls around whether we got our truck on or not.

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Can I do Canada?

One way for me to get there is to go through Canada. I can shave off about 2 hours.

Any thoughts on taking all your worldly possessions through Canada?

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Room With Askew.

I have begun to realize that we have a natural propensity to forget the actual dimensions of things. For instance, when my wife and I were looking for apartments, the realtor said that apartments always look smaller until you get your stuff in them. Thinking she was crazy, and myself being crazy, I began to draw a to-scale schematic of my apartment and furniture to see what would fit. According to the numbers, everything should go in fine. And the numbers, they don't lie.

This brings me to my current dilemma. I've rented a 17' Uhaul (which is 20' total) to move my one bedroom apartment cross-country. My coworkers believe that it should easily fit everything I own. My wife, not so much. She thinks the 24' truck (26' total) would better hold everything and we wouldn't have to worry. I am under 1' from front to back, and frankly I would hate to schlep 26 of me around New York, no matter the time of day.

Only time will tell if the truck it too small. Fortunately we have a back-up plan. Let's hope we don't need to use it.

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We are here to protect you from the terrible secrets of California.

Thowing out things that you haven't used in some time can be educational. Take today's toss for instance: Guardsman Silver Dip.

I've seen warning labels on plenty of household toxic products. Having inadvertently sprayed myself in the face with solvent, brushed my teeth with shaving cream (it was way early), and washed my cut-up hand with mineral spirits, I have become accustomed to reading said warnings before using the forewarned product. In this case, I'm a little bit confused, since I live in Michigan and all.

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Confucius: "Cocaine is a hell of a drug"

In the process of packing, I came across these fortunes, which I assume were written by Confucius himself on an all night cocaine binge. I decided to scan them in and show them because you might see something that I missed. Feel free to try the lucky numbers on for size.

See what he's got to say.

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Packing Machine.

She's a packin', packin', packin' machine.

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VoIP? Zoinks.

I'm thinking about going with VoIP service. I'm looking into two companies, Vonage and AT&T's CallVantage. The former being described to me as TiVo to the later's ReplayTV. If anyone has any thoughts on either company or VoIP in general, please let me know.

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To our existing customers: Screw You.

I might have to agree with Odd Todd's sentiment about MCI. They have some pretty screwy ideas when it comes to customer appreciation.

With my upcoming move, I need to set up phone service at my new apartment. Since I'm an existing MCI customer, and have had very little trouble with them thus far, I call them up and ask to move my service to NYC from MI. Seems simple enough.

"Ramona", if that was her real name, informs me that MCI can't move my service, rather I need to cancel it and start a new contract. In general, I was fine with that idea, however they want to charge me $140 for the hook-up and they can't guarantee me service for 30 days.

I obviously complained, cause it's what I do, playing the "don't-you-think-it's-silly-to-screw-an-existing-customer-over-an-installation-fee, when-I-can-get-that-fee-waived-by-another-company" guy as best as possible. It wasn't working. She offered me a one month fee concession, which would still mean I was still out $100. Now I know that's not a helluva lot of money, but still, its the principle of the thing.

So, I'm either thinking of going without a landline, or just local service. The cost is less and the aggravation is much less. I don't think I know anyone who doesn't have a home phone, but I understand from the interweb that it is becoming increasingly popular among the people.

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Get the hell out of the country.

A friend of mine just returned from a medical rotation at a New Zealand hospital. Among other things, she learned that during one's years at university, they have a compulsory year abroad. That would mean that all undergrad students in New Zealand do/should have passports and will/have traveled abroad.

Compare that to the United States and you'll find that less than 20% of Americans have passports. [via Guardian Unlimited]

It's not as if we didn't know that the majority of Americans live an insular life. But I'd have to imagine that if Americans saw more of the world at large, we might all have a better understanding of how we have it and who we are.

Some caveats are huge though. In Great Britain, (I can't speak about New Zealand or Australia, but I will assume, for the sake of argument, that they are the same), your university years are subsidized by the government. Therefore, the expense of international travel isn't nearly as prohibitive if you can live frugally while abroad.

The American entire higher education system can't change overnight. But it would be good if a program like this was in place. If nothing else, simple encouragement to travel outside your city, state or country would probably be a healthy addition to one's education. N'est Pas? [Thanks Susan, via Susana]

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I don't give a f$%k where you're from.

When we have work to do around the house, we typically let the almighty iTunes run on random. This gives my wife the unique opportunity to listen to full songs without me skipping it to find something else -- which I will inevitably skip again, and again and again.

"Jenny From The Block" was on. Not withstanding that I dislike the song in general, there is something about it that drives me to hate it:

Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got
I'm still, I'm still
Jenny from the block
Used to have a little, now I have a lot
No matter where I go
I know where I came from.

Right Jenny, I get you. But then she yells....yells, "The Bronx!"

That rubs me the wrong way. It just seems gratuitous. She goes from making a nice claim about remembering her roots, to being a Bronx elitist, alienating the other four boroughs as well as the world at large. Why would she want to do that? She could have left it alone and been from your town, my town, or anywhere.

Its not a new phenomenon to talk about where you're from in your songs. LL Cool J would be as beloved by the ladies unless he was from Queens. But his geographical notations are in the context of the song, usually used as a rhyming lyric or a footnote to the science just dropped. Jenny seems like she was throwing that in, just in case you thought she was from Staten Island. It smells of an insecurity. What does she have to be insecure about? Successful businesswoman, a good dancer, good looking, she seems to have it all. So what if people think she's from Staten Island? She'd be in good company....Wu-Tang....uh...Mariah....uh....

By the way, I could say I'm from Queens, but when I sing, I say Scarsdale because its cooler. Scarsdale!

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Well hello there B'rer Rabbit!

My brother just sent me an Ofoto gallery of his family vacation to Disney World, and two peculiar things dawned on me. First, although I know that's just some guy in a suit, the kid in me believes that when he puts on the suit, he is actually that character. (Spare me the furry comments.)

When I was about 7, my parents took me to Disney World. I remember being there for a whole week and seeing Goofy, Donald, Pluto and the lot, but not Mickey. On our last day, eating in a cafe, out of the corner of my eye, there he was, the head honcho himself, Mickey Mouse. I screamed, as any child would, and ran into his arms. While that's pretty goofy, pardon the pun, since I'm an adult who likes to consider himself not too-cool-for-school, I can admit I was envious when I looked at those pictures of my brother with his kids in tow crowding around Donald. It looked like too much damn fun.

That being said, something else in his pictures struck me...This feller right here...B'rer Rabbit. Now, I recognize this hare on sight. In fact, my brother and I went late one night in 1986 to see one of B'rer Rabbit's final theatrical performances. Since then, Disney has deemed The Song Of The South to be too taboo for the American audience. So much so that up until 2001 they were releasing this film on DVD, VHS and LaserDisc (nice.) in countries other than the U.S. Disney apparently felt that the film was too racial for Americans.

What's strange is that the target audience of Disney World today has never seen B'rer Rabbit in action, nor B'rer Fox, B'rer Bear, Uncle Remus, The Bull...none of them. All strangers in a parade in the middle of "The Happiest Place on Earth". It's too bad. The spirituals in that film are awesome; Zippity Doo Daa is a classic; and the stories of Uncle Remus are engaging. [Thanks Peter, and How do ya do?]

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