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August 31, 2003

The Silver Screen

Friday night I had the pleasure of seeing The Good, The Bad and The Ugly at AFI Silver Theatre and Cultural Center, a beautifully theatre anchored by the restored Silver Theatre, built in 1938. I am by no means a theatre buff; however, the Silver Theatre could easily transform me into a classic movie addict. I felt like I'd entered a secret club. Everyone seemed to know each other and the 125 or so stadium seats made every seat a good seat. The manager took the time to introduce the film before the silver curtains opened and the movie began. It was such a different experience from seeing a movie at a multiplex theatre. The room was nearly silent before the film began, no music, no noise, just the gentle sound of whispers and the crunch of the like-homemade popcorn. Needless to say, I will return to enjoy more classic films.

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August 29, 2003

Buffoonery or Dancing Black People

American advertising is not clever. It is disappointing. Regional commercials for mid-priced to low-cost cars are really loud with a country-pop sound. Basically, commercials these days are obnoxious. They are loud, crude and they exhibit none of the clever, catchy tunes or gimmicks of say, 10 years ago. But right now, my biggest issue is with dancing people, more specifically, dancing black people.

Watching people dance for for products and services that does not encourage me to spend my money. Nothing about about tacos, feminine products are cooking utensils has ever made me happy enough to dance a jig. So where do they find all of these insanely happy people? I know it is not a question of where, but rather why. The why is a deeply ingrained stereotype that advertisers tap into to sell products. That's why Asians are inappropriately depicted practicing martial arts and African Americans rap, sing and dance for no apparent reason. My guess is that advertisers are reaching for something that different that ethnic and racial groups can relate to, so they resort to stereotypical idealogies. But I don't relate to hip hop, rap and dancing. And I'm not alone.

The following is a list of products/companies that depict dancing black people:

Febreeze
Verizon DSL
Tampons
Marshall's Clothing
Kool-aid
Verizon Cell Phone Service
Fried Chicken
Cola
Computers/Printers/Digital Cameras
Underwear
Turkey
George Foreman

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August 26, 2003

Offbeat Weekend Observations

The old asian man in Chinatown who roared like like Tarzan as he walked down the street.

The caucasian young man singing popular Thai songs and dancing at the Thai festival in downtown DC. By happenstance, I ended up downtown with Kevin, who had seen signs of a festival on Pennsylvania Avenue. The curious beings that we are, we ventured over to see what was going on. All we could hear from the small stage was a man speaking in a language neither of us understood. As we neared the stage, we discovered the man was speaking in Thai and that he looked like an all american white guy, dressed in Vegas show clothes. If that wasn't odd enough, after we walked away to pick up some authentic pad thai, we heard a woman singing. Surely she must be Thai we said to ourselves. But no, no she wasn't. She was your all american white girl, singing in Thai, accepting roses from the various spectators in the small crowd.

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August 23, 2003

Episode 13: Drunk Tow Truck Driver

Thursday evening I setteled in with a glass of a dry white wine, cheese and bread. I was prepared for night of CSI and Without a Trace, when I got a call from Kevin who had planned on taking his cousin out for college sendoff dinner. And that's exactly what he was doing when his car broke down, literally down the street from my place. So I drove down the street to give him a jump start, so they would still have time for dinner. Seems he needed more than a jump to get his car started.

As luck would have it, he didn't have his triple letter card with him, but he was able locate the 800 number and speak to someone in customer service. In the meantime I, offered to drive the cousin back to his car but before I could do that, my car battery died. It appeared my effort at giving a jump start had put too much pressure on my little car battery. I couldn't even get my car out of park. Kevin made another call, this time to his buddy's girlfriend who lives a few blocks from me. She was going to give me a jump so that we'd have at least one functioning car that could get the cousin back to his grandfather's house. What I should mention about the jumper cables is that his 18 year old cousin had placed and removed them from my car. Kevin double-checked my battery, which wasn't dead, it was only suffering from a loose screw.

After I returned from dropping off the cousin, we sat in my car sipping Sprite, trying to avoid mosquitos and the heavy hot humid night air. Almost 90 minutes from the time the call was placed for a tow, a shiny red tow truck showed up on the wrong side of the street. After a couple illegal turns the tow truck driver made his way towards the car.

There were two men in the truck, average age probably about 50 or so. Both men got out of the truck, the driver stumbled out onto the parking lot and with a sideways shuffle made his way Kevin's car to take a look. The other man stood next to the truck, his forearms covered with bandages. The driver had to have been drunk, although you wouldn't know it from the precision with which he backed his truck up to the car. It was only after he took off for the service center, driving the truck like it was a Miata, with no regard for the car hitched to the back, that we concluded that the guy was definitely under the influence of something. But we had already waited an hour and half and it was too late to turn back.

We finally arrived at the service center (which seemed to take no time at all), only to discover that they lock the gate to the dealership in the evenings. It looked like someone was working late though, as the service bay was still lit and I noticed some people walking down the stairs of the main building. After about 15 minutes, a guy finally came to the door and Kevin was able to explain his situation. The guy unlocked the gate and allowed us in. With his car safe and sound behind lock and key we sighed a breath of relief and drove home.

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August 20, 2003

A Roachy Question

You are sitting in your local cuban restaurant sipping a mojito and munching on cripy tortilla chips and spicy salsa. You and your dining companion have just placed your orders, the evening special for him, which tonight is a chicken breast wrapped around ripe plantain and for you, the marinated hanger steak served au jus with crispy fries. Conversation is flowing, you're laughing at his jokes, having an awesome time when, a bug, oh no, not just any bug, but a cockroach crawls along beside you on the wall.

What do you do?

Obviously the laughter stops and the two of you look at each as if to say,"what do we do now?" Do you

a.) tell the waiter, grab your check and promptly leave your unfinished drinks at the table

b.) complain to the waiter, ask to see the manager and demand that your food should be free

c.) swat it, kill it and wait for the main course to arrive

What would you do? I faced this difficult (or not so difficult question) last evening. To a few, my choice may come as a surprise. To others, there was never a question.

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August 18, 2003

What have you been doing lately?

Several times I have been asked this question over the past. My sad but true answer has simply been, getting old. Now, not only is that sad, but it is really pathetic and very true. I've witnessed several friends get their graduate degrees with hopes of a higher salary and a better job only to find that they are struggling to pay their student loans. They don't make more money and they don't have better jobs. My friends are just smart and poor.

I have decided to stay lesser educated and poor(ish). It's not like I didn't get an undergrad degree (because I did) or that I am not interested in graduate school (because I am), it's just that I can't afford to the expense of the extra degree right now, especially if it won't pay off. I can't take on the expense of simply being smarter just for the sake of it.

So for now, I will just grow old. Not to say I don't do anything else. Right now I'm reading The Ground Beneath Her Feet, a novel by Salman Rushdie. And I've been experimenting with French cooking as my fascination with everything French grows. And I am trying to spend more time with friends, one old friend, in particular. So, I guess I am not just getting old, but I like my response, because I wonder how many people waste their days away, not realizing that all they have accomplished was age.

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August 15, 2003

When good lunch goes bad

On this 90+ degree day, my plans for a fun lunch were squashed because it meant a long walk and a train transfer. So instead of simply getting a hotdog on the street, we tried something more adventurous. We walked down a very quiet one way street and walked inside the first sandwich we happened upon, which was a Wall Street Deli. It was nearly empty inside, despite the fact it was noon on a Friday in downtown DC. I have fond memories of Wall Street Deli, particularly the catering platters overflowing with tasty sandwiches, cute little bags of fancy chips and addictive cookies. My friends were partial to the taco bar and the soup was great on cold days.

So imagine was surprise when I walked inside the barely air conditioned shop and only 2 people were in line ahead of me. The salad bar was untouched. And from behind the sandwich counter, customers were barked at, "Sandwiches! Order sandwiches here!" even though there were only a few people in line. We are all familiar with the common line, "Is this for here or to go?". Well for some reason, my sandwich guy thought this it would be funny to repeat this line several times. I didn't find it amusing, nor did my friend. The sandwich was obviously amused smiling to himself as he made our sandwhiches. I wonder if it ever occured to staff that their restaurant was doing poorly compared to the Subway shop down the street with a line that nearly snakes out the front door.

As we sat and ate our miserable little sandwiches in the warm shop, we came to the conclusion that they must have run themselves out of business. It was a simple formula of two parts bad customer service, one part bad food/high prices and one part depressing setting. There was no lingering over crumbs in this place. I am a very slow eater and I scarfed my sandwich down in less than 10 minutes flat. My "hot roast beef" was cooler than room temperature and the horseradish sauce was less than zesty. I couldn't wait to get out of there. Thank goodness for ice cream street vendors, because my soft lemonade was cool, tart and tasty enough to almost make me forget what was a pretty f***ing bad lunch.

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What Would Washington DC Do?

As I watched New York commuters trying to find a way home during a power failure induced pedestrian rush-hour, I wondered how commuters in the District of Columbia woud handle a similar situation. I encounter little kindness in the district. I have found it is very "me, me, me" and "I am more powerful and thus more important than you". And not just from the regular Suits, but from Grunts who make barely enough to cover their rent, yet because they work within a degree or two of a Suit, have the same foul attitude towards others.

Many who work downtown live in either Maryland or Virginia. Many of my coworkers endure 45-90 minute commutes. On 9/11 I invited co-workers home with me since I didn't live far from the office. But since I wasn't in the city at the time, I don't know how people coped. They made it home somehow, it just took alot longer than usual. I heard there is a city evacuation plan, but I don't know what it is. I'd imagine it is the kind of thing that commuters should be aware of, yet I know nothing of it.

If nothing else, this power outage was a reminder of the times. The Boy Scout motto, "be prepared" are literally words to live by. My company-issued preparedness kit is stocked with water and other emergency essentials. The only piece of equipment I carry everywhere is a flashlight. Which could be helpful on the metro, but that's about it.

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August 12, 2003

Reasons Why I Love My Powerbook

1. It doesn't spontaneously shutdown when I try to copy and paste into PhotoShop.
2. It's fast and pretty and reliable
3. I never experience the terrible blue screen of death
4. I can run all of my work applications (at the same time) without computer failure

With pleasure I used my laptop on a business trip last week. At least twice a day, my co-worker's company-issued laptop would freeze (during her presentation) while I never once had a problem. "Why don't you use a Mac?" I asked. She replied, "Oh, well I have never been a Mac person." Hmm, seems to me it wouldn't be a bad idea to try it out, given all the grief she goes through on a regular basis. But alas, my organization doesn't endorse the use of such machines and certainly wouldn't support them. Then I think about productivity and the amount of time I could save if my computer didn't crash several times a week. It's a different world, from contractor to FTE.

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August 10, 2003

Week end review

Food
I began last weekend by partaking in the fourth Restaurant Week at Andale, a self-described contemporary Mexican restaurant. The decor is dressy ethnic and the food and service do not disappoint. The allure of restaurant week is the opportunity to sample different restaurants throughout the city and get a 3-course fixed price dinner (sans vino) for $30.03. Andale actually threw in a complimentary appetizer consisting of the best restaurant tortilla chips I have ever sampled and 3 bowls of salsa: Salsa Verde, Salsa Fresca, and Salsa Picante de Chile Chipotle y Tomate, the latter I could have slurped up with a spoon it was so good.

I started my meal with a caesar salad with a dressing that actually consisted of real anchovies, needless to say, I found it quite appetizing. The grouper was perfectly cooked and accompanied with sweet creamed corn and slightly bitter broccoli rabe. The slightly salty herb sauce perfectly complimented the dish. My dinner companion started with ceviche and continued with the roasted lamb, served with the juices on the side. I could have eaten both meals, they were so good. I didn't really have much room for dessert, so I only sampled my companion's tequila pear sorbet and picked at my Mexican brownie with ice cream. I am not a huge pear fan, but the brownie was pretty darn good. Restaurant week is really the best time to splurge and try a new restaurant or two for a pretty decent price. I recommend it to all, although you may want to read a few restaurant reviews before choosing a place to dine.

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Rochester, NY
The first half of the week I was in Rochester for business. Because I don't really like to discuss work matters, I will focus again on food. Our hotel restaurant was supposed to be 4-star, however, I found the breakfast server lacking in major way. Being ignored for clearing dishes off tables is fine when you are in a diner, but not when you are expected for a morning meeting. My standout meal was at a shack on the Irondequiot Bay (near Lake Ontario) on steak night. Dressed in our business best, we stepped out onto the gravel and mud parking lot and walked toward an enormous outdoor grill which kicked up flames and the smell of grilled beef. I was in heaven. We sat right next to the water and were greeted by the local ducks who waddled up to the picnic tables with hopes of being thrown a bite to eat. Locals pulled their motor boats up to the pier for carry-out and nearly everyone enjoyed a 16-oz steak for a steal at $12.95 (that includes all you can eat salad and a baked potato). Behind us a woman named Barbie introduced herself to a bunch of guys who arrived by boat. I thought it was a joke, until I saw the look on my colleague's faces. No it was not a joke. A subtle turn of my head revealed to me that this woman was in fact a "barbie".

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Phishy Dreams
Monday night I had a dream that I was at a Phish concert. I must have been here.

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Baby Boy Gus
I had the pleasure of playing with my friend J's son, Gus last weekend as well. In addition to being adorable, he is a lot of fun to play with. Happy babies are awesome.

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August 01, 2003

Drawer Invasion and other rants

Despite what I write in this small forum, privacy is important to me. So when I came into work this morning and saw that someone had been at my desk, rummaging through my things, I was a tad bit pissed off. After ranting to my buddy Jason, I quickly sent in a request for drawer keys along with a complaint to facilities. Small things like people slurping water from the fountain, the constant extremely loud clicking and clacking from the printer (behind my desk), and the 18 varieties of phone rings on our high tech phones annoy me to no end. I find comfort in my lounge music, which drowns out (sort of) those clicky office noises. It is just that my environment is sooo important to me. I like clean, quiet and simple, with an emphasis on quiet. Oh, and did I mention that I also sit near the kitchen and the stench of homecooked food permeates the air?

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