Very exciting to see Stamps.com woven into tonight’s Entourage plot. I served as an intern at this storied start-up in 1999. Met some great people, watched my 250 shares of stock rocket from $11 to $98.50, decided not to sell for financial aid eligibility reasons, and watched the stock crash back down to Earth.
Sallie Mae will be reminding me of the costliness of this decision for the next 242 months.
“At this point, the length of this conversation is way out of proportion to my interest in it.”
– From Sports Night. Spoken by Dan Rydell (played by Josh Charles), written by Aaron Sorkin.
Monday morning, I found this at my desk. A gift from my father, decapitated. Better Dwight than me. But still, unsettling.
Somebody either really hates me, or really hates The Office. Either way, a note would have been appreciated. Threatening or otherwise. I’d like to know where I stand.
The healing process has begun. A replacement is on order — and expensed to my employer. Clumsy construction workers could also be to blame. I keep telling myself that scenario is more likely than a rival trained on intimidation.
But in case I do have one more enemy than I realized, let me make this very clear. To quote the owner of the McFly residence in the alternate 1985 of ‘Back to the Future II’: I ain’t gonna be terrorized.
Undeterred by yesterday’s record high temperatures, Ellen and I were in the mood to eat and critique soup.
This was perfect, because a new soup place just opened down the block. The Original Soupman. Twelve years after Seinfeld weaved him into our pop culture quilt, The Soup Nazi has expanded his empire into Jason Alexander’s hometown of Livingston, NJ.
Walking in, I actually worried about the staff’s behavior. Was getting yelled at part of the appeal? I hoped not (It wasn’t.) Still, we were cautious, not wanting to forfeit our soup-buying privileges. And we still left without soup, and hungry.
The Soup Nazi needs his rest, and despite the OPEN sign, he closes “around eight, eight-thirty.” It was eight-forty-five. I don’t know enough about the soup industry to suggest ideal business hours to its proprietors. But unless they stay open until at least nine, they will not earn a place in our eating routine.
According to Google Analytics, a bunch of people arrived here today via Design*Notes. I didn’t realize you were coming. I wasn’t ready. The place is a mess. I’m sorry.
Please, make yourselves comfortable.
Here are a few recent posts I’ve made on other sites:
• JetBlue Lands A Punch (JetBlue PR lashes out at their detractors.)
• A Naming Exercise (Deciphering the alphabet soup that is corporate America.)
• A Question for the Authors (If your friend writes a book, are you obligated to read it?)
• Mall Trivia (Was there really an Ann Taylor? Were there Brooks Brothers?)
• Guilty Pleasures, and Three Things I Didn’t Know About Mike and the Mad Dog.
• Name That Guy Playing That Tune (A commuting experiment.)
• Pinch Hitting for me at YesButNoButYes: my friend Angela.
That should buy me enough time to get a few new entries posted. Please enjoy this photo of our dog, Bailey.
[More where that came from here.]
I have a Hotmail account I rarely check. It’s where I send emails I don’t want to read, including non-essential account updates from HSBC. On March 27, they tried to use New Year’s Day to start a conversation about a Personal Internet Banking Demo (”The New Year is here as is the new HSBC Personal Internet Banking Demo!”)
I will not watch this demo in protest.
I am now officially a published author. Well, maybe not author. But journalist. OK, journalist is probably stretching it. Trivia writer. Let’s go with that. Officially.
You can find my work in the recent issue of mental_floss magazine. Three quizzes. One about Elvis’ co-stars, one on the earning power of dead celebrities, and a pick-up game of Spot the Big Fat Lie.
My byline was omitted. D’oh. So I have no proof I’m anything more than a subscriber with a camera. But if I were going to pretend I’d written an article, I’d probably pick something other than Elvis trivia. Maybe a piece explaining hedge funds.
I will be manning “The Worksheet” for mental_floss for the next four issues. You’ll be kept posted.
[By the way, the lie was B.]
Kevin Pell and David Hasselhoff, yucking it up recently in Vegas.
A lot of camaraderie around the Beirut table.
Too much for Blob.
Bill Morris and me, representing the Class of ‘01. Immediately after this photo, I showed him pictures of my dog on my BlackBerry. That’s acceptable reunion behavior, no?
Anna Rankin made an appearance. She told us fellow ATO alum and former placekicker Brent Garber played the kicker in We Are Marshall. That kind of trivia is why I showed up. I will now add his film to my Netflix queue.
Advertising giant Ogilvy seems to be moving in across from Brightleaf Square. Not sure why, exactly. Their new space used to be a popular semiformal location. I can’t remember its name.
Duke Reunion Weekend brought back many memories. Parts of campus were virtually unrecognizable; most alumni were virtually unchanged. I found nostalgia in unexpected places, like the smell of the store beneath the East Campus dining hall and the goofy nicknames of the freeways. Overall, it was great to see a bunch of people I should try to see more often. Count us in for 2012.
Here’s the first batch of photo highlights.
One of the virtually unrecognizable parts of campus I mentioned.
Ben took a lot of these photos, and deserves your warm applause.
Chino was the reunion’s most sought-after alum. People were grabbing him and poking him and shoving cameras in his face all weekend.
Here he and Pete Gailliot argue over Grossman’s nametag. A memento, I guess.
On the right is the new chapel (I think), which is not at all impressive by comparison.
Earlier today, I endeavored to purchase a gallon of 1% milk and Band-Aid brand bandages. The owner of the local convenience store where this transaction took place was not big into customer service. She mistakenly charged me $3.99 for the Band-Aids, ignoring the $2.99 sticker price. When I questioned her math and reading skills, she phoned her husband. Actually, she could have been calling anyone. Or no one.
The verdict was this: I would pay the higher price, but she would print me a new receipt. A receipt that indicated I paid regular price. For my records. We fought briefly over my almighty dollar and her baffling resolution, but I flinched first. I crumpled up that piece of paper and tossed it on the ground, a move of defiance that looked less like protest than litter.
All afternoon this plagued me, the way stupid stuff does. But then an amazing thing happened. Doing my Sunday laundry a day late, I found a faded $1 bill trapped with the lint. Balance has been restored to my universe.
After a lively weekend and a trying trip home, I’m too tired to post all the photos tonight. But not as tired as Chapman was Saturday afternoon.
To be continued…
The Wright Brothers were fucking genius.
Ellen and I are now heading north on I-85 near the North Carolina-Virginia border. We’re driving through a driving rain in an amenity-free Corolla. The various weather reports we’ve watched, heard or read have mentioned flooding and blizzards and gale force winds. We’re listening to a local DJ’s take on the Imus firing.
This was not the plan.
Three-hundred flights into New York have already been canceled, but Continental has not yet ruled on ours. To me, this is poor customer service. Ellen needs to get home for work tomorrow, and I’d like to get home for The Sopranos tonight. When I called Continental, I was told they don’t want to cancel any flights and treated to a script about their dedication to safety. It’s a top priority, I was assured. Not in the mood for non-sequiturs, I hung up. I realized their real plan was to get us to the airport and never let us leave. So we changed the rental car drop-off location to Newark Airport, picked up a few stale pastries from Kroger and hit the long road home.
I’m trying to stay positive, but failing. It’s hard, especially when I remember the Wright Brothers invented airplanes simply to avoid this kind of journey.
I’ll post the weekend’s photo highlights tomorrow. They are fantastic.
