California and other musings...

-I live in California. This is not really an amazing fact, but merely a fact in and of itself. California is a place, and it's where I happen to live. Having said that, I don't think about it much. And why would I? We all have lives and other more important matters to fret about, and where we happen to geographically be located normally falls pretty low on the daily thought scale (unless you happen to live in Somalia or Fallujah, for instance. I'm sure folks who live there think about what that means quite a bit). Anyways, where I live is a decent sized city of 500,000 people. However, it is surrounded by farmland and hills/mountains, so it's a surprisingly rural place given its size. Anyways, I sometimes forget that a mere 15 minute drive from my home is geography like this:

It's easy to forget something as beautiful as this is right outside your door. Literally. I had forgotten my hometown had this kind of geography...and it is easy to do. Sometimes we need to just walk outside our door, and put life on hold...if even for only a few hours. If we don't, views like this might as well be a 1,000,000 miles away. This brings me to another point: our drought. If you look at these pictures, you can see where the normal waterline is, and where we are currently at...and it's the end of the rainy season. Not good...at all. Still, it's not like the state sits next to trillions of gallons of water or anything. I mean, how handy would it be to border an ocean, right? If only somebody would invent some sort of handy-dandy process to extract the salt from seawater, perhaps our water issues could be solved. Clearly, that is but a fantasy scenario*

(* This is, of course, hyperbole. California needs to get real and line the coast with desalination plants. If the Middle East can put water slides and ski slopes in their malls located in the middle of the Sahara...courtesy of desalination plants... I would think the world's 7th biggest economy** could do the same and spare us from having to refrain from flushing our toilets or taking a "not more than" five minute shower. Just build a solar farm next to them to supply the power, and presto...it's even green and self sustaining. Naaaah...makes too much sense, and, until a corporation figures out how to charge us for sunlight and seawater, they won't be interested...which is why California needs to make this THE public works project of the 21st century. A water independent California would be an economic juggernaut unlike the world has ever seen. Unfortunately, such ambitions requires foresight and long term thinking/planning, something westerners, and specifically Americans, are typically quite poor at....)

(** California is the world's 7th largest economy. Suck it Texas and New York...outside your own mind, you're just not that important)

Other thoughts:

-why can't I get breakfast past 11am in most restaurants?  What's the issue, man?  For whatever reason, the restaurateurs of America have decided "Thou shalt NOT eat a pancake, bacon, and scrambled eggs after 11am!....no exceptions!!!"  Why?  Is there a time lock vault that locks up the eggs and bacon after 11am?  Is there a rotation of staff that occurs at 11am ON THE DOT that, while perfectly comfortable grilling up a hamburger and fries, have no concept of how to scramble a fucking egg?  "Scramble an egg?  What am I?  Houdini???"  Or, in most restaurants, is the staff with knowledge of all things breakfast summarily executed every morning at 11...which explains the high employee turnover at most restaurants.  Seriously.  What the hell?  On a weekend when I sleep in...or while on vacation....I don't want to be in a panic to get up early to make the "breakfast hour".  I want to enjoy myself at a leisurely pace, and, what I don't want, is a shrimp cocktail or lasagna with my morning cup of coffee.  I want biscuits and gravy.  French toast.  'Ya know?  A fucking FRITTATA. Not a roast chicken.  Who's with me on this?  "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take this anymore!!!"  "Attica!  Attica!" etc.  Anyways, as you can see, this really irritates me.

-why is the world generally set up on a 8am-6pm schedule?  To take advantage of sunlight?  Is that the reason?  We're no longer an agrarian society.  I don't get up at dawn to milk cows in an unlit barn.  We live in a world of electric light.  We can have light whenever we want it.  It's glorious.  There's no need to chase the sun like an 18th century farmer anymore.  Let it go.  Nobody, and I mean, NOBODY, is at their best at 8am.  It takes a gallon of coffee and the stress of a commute to wake us up.  Study after study has indicated the early morning hours are not the time for peak human efficiency.  Furthermore, these same studies have shown that this is just about the WORST time to try and educate a child...so naturally our schools are set up on this inefficient and archaic time system.  Along with extending breakfast hours, we need to push back the work day to something like 10am to 8pm...seriously.  There needs to be a grassroots movement on this.  I'd do it, but I'm too exhausted from getting up so goddamn early (ha! A joke!).

-ok.  Not my best efforts here, but I rushed through it just to put something up.  I've been meaning to do it for a few weeks, but never seemed to get around to it.  So...ta da and all that.  Now, I'd write more, but I need to shower as I just finished a run a little while ago.  No, I don't enjoy running.  In fact, I'd go so far as to say it sucks.  What I enjoy even less, however, is the couple of extra pounds from the holidays that have stubbornly set up camp in my midsection.  Amazing how such a fleeting amount of pleasure can result in such a protracted amount of misery (if that's not a constant analogy for pretty much all of life's experiences, I don't know what is).        

Caffeine Dealers

So I remember reading this a while back:

"Did you know that Starbucks coffee can have twice as much caffeine as other brands of "to go" coffee?"

Now picture the look on a dogs face when they hear a high pitched sound.  Something like this:

THAT was the look on my face when I read that...because I was perplexed as to what the point was to that question/declaration (btw, my autocorrect originally had the words "point was" as "pony waste" and I almost left it like that, because it struck me as funny). To me, that statement is akin to informing somebody that heroin has an intoxicating effect. Um...yeah. Exactly. It's kind of the reason I go there (for the coffee/caffeine, that is...not heroin. Although, based on their continual menu expansion, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before that's offered as well.  "I'll have a venti China white, please."
"Of course, sir! That will be $1,500 and your dignity. Would you like that with whipped cream? Or caramel? Or just the usual heated over a dirty spoon?")

Anyways, Starbucks knows what people like me need in the morning, and that is a hot cup of oooomph, preferably a venti, and not some black, benign liquid masquerading as the real deal.  If something is going to give me less than minty breath, and the need to urinate every three minutes, it had better put a bounce in my step, 'ya know?  So snap to it alternative coffee peddlers!  If you want to compete with The 'Bux, you'd better tweak (get it??????  A PUN!!!) that formula to a proper teeth grinder of a brew and then maybe, just maybe, some of those early morning, bleary eyed, disposable income zombies (like me) who have no desire to be up at that ungodly hour except to please The Man and Get Paid, might stumble into your roasted bean joint for a hot cup of giddy-up to get their day started.   

Dairy and Narcolepsy

After a rather hearty breakfast, I think my pores my be leaking pure, grade A, creamery butter. This, by the way, is not a bad thing. I'm attempting to nullify its narcotic sleep inducing effects with coffee stronger, and blacker, than Darth Vader's dress socks.

Necessity

How to tell you're a grown ass man: all of your thermal travel mugs are in the dishwasher, and rather than go without coffee, you take one of your daughter's thermal mugs to work instead.  After all, going to work without coffee is NOT AN OPTION, and the thought of a work day filled with snarky, coworker barbs is NOTHING compared to a work day without coffee (i.e. my preferred caffeine* delivery system).

*Caffeine: an amazing legal stimulant that allows people to get to work/school on time, keeps the digestive tract humming along, is a major headache antagonist, allows one to find the upside to their very existence, encourages conversations with coworkers/classmates/peers you would normally find intolerable, gently prevents sleep without all those nasty murderous rages and demonic hallucinations associated with other stimulants, and is the major cog that drives the Earth's economic engine.  

Starbucks

Why the fuck does Starbucks have two registers when it is patently clear, that they never, ever, times infinity, plus one, ever intend on using it? Line longer than King Kong's dick*? No problem, we'll just have four people manning the drive up window and one gay guy with permanently tattooed eyebrows working a single register...next to the one covered in cobwebs and dust from a bygone era of customer efficiency.

‎*Although a theoretical measurement, King Kong's dick is assumed to be quite long.

My second rate supermarket is a first rate radio station

I have ranted in the past about the dearth of good, hip, cool, tasteful, relevant or progressive music radio stations. It seems as if the only thing you can hear now is talk, sports, news, top 40, r&b, rap/hip hop, and hard rock. That's it. Oh, and Spanish language...which I'm sure is even transmitted to the surface of Mars. Anyways, most radio stations in California (and I have lived and/or worked in every region of the state) suck. Balls. Majorly. It is an endless source of frustration for me, and what eventually drove me to purchase an iPod large enough to put my musical collection on, so I could hear it in my car. I had given up on the idea that a radio station was going to play me good, or introduce me to new, music. But check this out: My local and closest supermarket plays really good alternative/Brit pop ALL THE TIME. You know how most stores have this pumped in muzak stuff? My local Save Mart (which I only go to when I'm too lazy to drive the extra mile to the Vons that has a better selection of foodstuffs) has played the following bands on its store sound system: The Catherine Wheel/Rob Dickinson, The Doves, Supergrass, The Style Council, REM, Ride, The Stone Roses, The Pixies, The Police, Johnny Marr, Crowded House...and those are the ones I can think of off of the top of my head. Are you kidding me? You can't even hear this stuff on the college radio station here! The supermarket? Save Mart? REALLY? That is so sad when a town's food store is its bastion of indie/college/ alt. rock. It has also introduced me to new music as well, something that hasn't happened in FOREVER as a result of over the air radio. Yesterday I was buying some things to make our traditional humongoid family breakfast, and I heard this perfect little pop ditty on the speakers in the produce section (gots to have my Fuji apples). I had never heard it before, and it literally stopped me in my tracks to try and discern its lyrics. I memorized a few lines, went home and Googled it, and through the magic of iTunes, found it. Unbelievable. And by sampling that song, it turned me on to another band I had never heard of whose music resonated with me. Wow. My local grocery store turns me on to music in a way that the actual music industry itself has failed at for the last fifteen years or so. There's just something inherently hysterical about that.

Other things that bounced through my head as I pushed my cart along the grocery aisles:

-I wonder why most of us don't party like we did when we were younger? I mean we can, and sometimes DO (I had an experience at a football game last fall that was reminiscent of my best/worst 19 year old behavior), but something seems to fade that demands we tie one on every weekend, Thursday, every other Tuesday, and dollar beer Mondays at the local dive. I went to a Super Bowl get together tonight and had some beers. Caught a slight buzz and had good conversation and laughs. Good times. But back in the day, that vibe would have been "Time for me to really get my drink on!" Tonight the vibe was "Hmmmm....kinda drowsy...need to think about going home...sleep sounds gooooood right now." Plus, I was feeling kinda inflated by the beer. Why is that? At 20 years old you could drink a 12 pack and still wolf down an entire meal. Now? Four Newcastles and you skip the meal for fear of exploding. And sleep? I can remember partying literally until sunrise, sleeping for an hour, showering, then going to school/work...and then doing it all over again THAT NIGHT. I dunno. I think a certain gene kicks in that regulates these things. I think it's the same one that also makes us file our taxes on time and keep our pool clean.

-I never seem to completely finish a pot of coffee. Ever. And I love coffee like others love soda, Jesus, whiskey, or cocaine and strippers. Seriously. There's always that unconsumed 1/4 of an inch in the pot whenever I go to make a new pot. Why is that? People always finish their soda. God knows a drunk polishes off his whiskey. But never the coffee for me. And it doesn't matter how much I make. Two cups, twelve cups...same result. 1/4 of an inch left over. If you added all those leftover dregs up, its probably about a pot a month. And good coffee is expensive. Not un-prescribed oxycontin or hydrocodone expensive (not that I would, you know...."know" about that), but it ain't cheap. Personally I think it is some sort of subliminal sacrifice to the great coffee goddess Insomnia (who I picture is a goddess dressed in a bathrobe, bags under her eyes, hair frazzled, a little twitchy, and clutching a steaming mug of java. She of course magically transforms into a breathtaking vision of loveliness...but only after that morning cup).

-if you ever lose a grandparent, or other elderly loved one, do not fret. I will find them for you. Just let me know they are missing, and I'll get straight to work. All I have to do is be in a hurry, and at the grocery store. They will immediately magically appear in front of me either pushing a cart slower than a snails pace right down the middle of the aisle with no hope of passing them on either side, or be arguing with the cashier about an expired coupon while writing a check for the wrong amount. I have guaranteed results and charge a reasonable finders fee. Just let me know.

Random Thoughts

So I've recently been reintroduced to the awesome pleasure of the portable laptop/wireless internet combo. As I lay here in my ridiculously comfortable bed and type this, I am also listening to the new U2 album for free on their website. Ah...technology. It's a beautiful thing. And yet, technology is a demanding mistress who must be kept in check. Take the posting of rants for instance. I think it should be done in moderation, and only when you have something truly passionate, amusing, or interesting to say. However, lately I've felt like I needed to keep putting stuff out there, like I needed a steady stream of posts for reasons I really cannot comprehend. Probably ego. Probably a need for some sort of personal validation. Whatever. Problem is, volume does not always equal quality. Sometimes less IS more, so I'm going to dial back my posts until something really and truly motivates me................................................OK....two things did motivate me over the last few days, so I'll briefly share them here, and then, I SWEAR, I'll be cutting back for qualities sake.

Anyway, number one:

I saw a guy driving a Honda S2000 with the following personalized plate, "TUFRYDE". Um, not really. I mean, a Honda S2000 is a lot of things, but a TUFRYDE is not one of them. It's a Honda S2000, and you're a dude. May I suggest "GAYRYDE" as a more appropriate choice?

Number two:

I have lots of problems with Starbucks. I do not know why. But, if I'm in a hurry, that generally guarantees I have ZERO chance of getting out of there in any kind of reasonable time. Last Wednesday I was pushed for time, and had to do my eighty mile commute to work from West Sacramento to Oakland. I'm in a hurry, sleep deprived, and just want to get on the road. Naturally, the one person in front of me in line is explaining to the pimply faced teen working the counter how to make the perfect cup of tea. He's going on about the forests of Ceylon, and 'off the boil', and steeping techniques. Really? Is that necessary? I'm sorry...I thought it was FUCKING TEA. You know, that shit you put in hot water and let it soak? What the fuck dude? I know you're some old retired fuck who has no need to be anywhere, but Jesus Christ, nobody cares about your prattling on about the joys of Earl Grey! Of course, that wasn't all. He had to be social and talk up the staff. You know, spread a little joy. Want to know who wasn't feeling the joy? Me. Want to know what I was doing? I was concentrating every electron of hate I had in my body and shooting it out of my eyeballs like a microwave beam to the back of this crusty old shitbags head. I was really, really hoping I could make his brain boil and head explode. No, it didn't work, but not for my lack of trying. Anyway, he kept laughing and talking, and wouldn't stop. Just as I started looking around for a 1lb. bag of whole beans (Pike Place) to beat him into merciful silence with, he finally moved on, and I got my coffee and was out the door. I swear, I'm going to perfect that electron microwave beam thing, and when you start reading grisly stories about exploding heads in the paper, you'll know somebody was being a self centered dick at the wrong Starbucks at the wrong time.