Monthly Archives: April 2008

The Friday File

The Pope I don’t get why the Pope’s going to Yankee Stadium. I always thought he was a Cardinal fan. Har har har.

Turf and Dirt Our horse Madeo worked at five furlongs this week. We’re keeping an eye out for a start so you can get down to OTB and put your money where my mouth is. Based his two outings, expect short odds.

Naming Rights Go help Stewart’s name their latest batch of new ice cream flavors. I suggested Client-9 for the “lemon flavored light ice cream with a whipped cream swirl.” I figure that when life gives you lemons, make lemon ice cream. As for the whipped cream…

On Language The only place where people mull any more is in newspaper headlines.

Prevention

Ann was a little under the weather this week with a stomach bug. Always the caring and sensitive husband, when I got home from work I handed her the Clorox Clean-Up and asked her to wipe down the doorknobs, handles, and any other objects she may have touched. Did you get the remote? She waved a finger at me, and it wasn’t her index finger. Alrighty then.

Look, let’s get this straight: I’m not a germaphobe. If I were a germaphobe, would I allow the the dog eat pasta out of my mouth —and we’re not talking “Lady and The Tramp” style, we’re talking penne. Exactly. And if I were a germaphobe, would I consume perfectly good food that someone carelessly left in the kitchen garbage, or reach elbow deep into the sewer pipe in the basement? I rest my case. This isn’t about germs, this is a public health issue, and if you ask me that’s everyone’s responsibility.

You didn’t touch the refrigerator did you? She gave me that cute little wave again.

Swing Set

Now here you go: the Union Street Bed and Breakfast is up for sale. This place was like Schenectady’s version of Newhart —except with swinger parties. Imagine Peter Scolari and Julia Duffy getting it on with Larry, Daryl, and Daryl. Sorry for that image. The fourteen bedroom home, listed at $269,000, would be great for anyone who’s ever dreamed of running their own inn. No word on whether the sale includes contents, such as supplies and equipment kept stocked for its notorious special events. Broker Randy Passonno told the Business Review, “Based on the fact it grosses over $100,000 in annual rents I don’t think that the history will be a deterrent. It will be an inspiration to some buyers.” Absolutely. I’d be inspired to go through the place with a pressure washer.

The Human Internet

As a child, I was the human internet.

Mr. Hall and my father would often meet for cocktails in a comfortable corner of the family room and discuss things that men would discuss in 1971. These were the days of Scotch on the rocks, cigarettes, and no seat belts. My father, the plumber, and Mr. Hall, the lawyer, would sometimes need a judgement on some point of fact —and that’s when they would send me to the encyclopedia.

I loved being their research department and would dig into the books, ferreting out answers to their questions. Whether it be figuring out who was Woodrow Wilson’s vice president (Thomas R. Marshall) or determining the national currency of Belgium (Belgian franc), I would promptly return and report my findings. When you’re ten, this is the sort of thing that makes you feel important and useful.

Maybe I wasn’t as as fast as the internet, but I was reliable. Unless you have dial-up —then I was as fast as the internet.

Liz and Me

One day I walked into Starbucks at State and Pearl and there’s Liz Benjamin tapping away on her laptop. Holy crap! That’s Liz Benjamin, blogging royalty! Liz used to report for the TU and write Capitol Confidential. Now she’s with the News and does the Daily Politics blog. I felt a powerful urge to introduce myself:

Hi, Liz…are you writing a blog post? Really! I used to have a blog. It was called Albany Eye. Ever heard of it? Hey, didn’t I see you at Spitzer’s Day One Run at 6am on New Year’s morning in Washington Park? That was sooooo cool. Did you get one of those Day One hats —or would that be like a conflict of interest to accept a gift from a public official? I wear that thing around now and people laugh and laugh. So, what are you writing about?

Fortunately, I thought better of this and went to get my latte.

Tater Shots

Last week we told you about the local cop in trouble for allegedly firing his potato gun at work. Today the TU has a B1 item that digs deeper into potato gun culture. The David Filkins story -his beat includes dumb guy stuff- makes it clear that spud shooting may be fun, but:

That does not mean penalties are less severe for those who use a potato cannon rather than a gun to commit a crime. Killing someone with a potato instead of a bullet would not mean a lighter sentence.

Interesting. I wonder if Dr. Michael Baden could determine that someone was killed by a potato, even if the potato had decomposed? Anyway, Filkins caught flack last Fall for writing about a Delmar man whose hobby is speeding on the Northway. People will probably complain that today’s story encourages kids to build potato guns —as if there aren’t enough examples of potato gun fun (and mayhem) on YouTube.

Dating Tips For Guys #37

Gentlemen: there is a razor thin line that separates romantic from creepy. Knowing the location of this line is valuable. Let’s say there’s a fine young lady that you fancy. On her birthday, surprising her with a card would be a nice touch, right? Of course it would —unless you discovered her date of birth by running her plate number through your computer at DMV. And then you kind of sneak up and give her the card in the parking lot. That won’t get you a date, but it might get you fired. And maybe arrested. And very possibly named in an order of protection. You see, this was a good idea but it was poorly executed.

Remember: in matters of the heart, execution is everything.

Respectfully Yours

“With all due respect” is the twenty-first century’s F-bomb. In the old days, when someone said with all due respect, it meant, “Yes, I hear you. Thank you for sharing your opinion. I appreciate the input, but I must respectfully disagree.” Today, it means, “Shut your big yap, because it’s my turn to talk.” Or, “With all due respect, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Maybe even, “With all due respect, I wish you would drop dead.”

As far as I can tell, in 2008 no respect is due any more, and if someone with all due respects you, they are doing it with supreme irony and contempt. It’s a declaration of war. And with all due respect, I suggest you treat it as such.

Katie Tried

There will be folks who try to tell you Katie Couric didn’t make it anchoring CBS Evening News because she’s a woman. With all due respect, that’s not the reason: it’s because she stinks. There are half a dozen women on cable and network news who would have been better in that anchor seat on day one —and by now they’d be stars. From the outset, Couric’s been wooden and uncomfortable. Her show moves with the painful gait of someone wearing shoes three sizes too small. And squeezing into that role has been her undoing.

Hate to say I told you so, but I told you so.

Odds n’ Ends

I Got The Horse Right Here - His name ain’t Paul Revere. It’s Madeo. He’s an up and coming three-year-old colt who had serious stuff March 23 at Santa Anita, beating the field by six lengths. Betting on names is for suckers, but in this case I’ll make an exception.

Zillow Talk – Real estate is the national obsession, and Zillow is the obsessive’s home page. Give Zillow a ZIP code and it will show you every house for sale. Type in an address and watch it churn out estimated prices for every house in the neighborhood. Your house. Your neighbor’s house. Everybody’s house.

Listening – According to our buds at All Over Albany, Ingrid Michaelson’s “Breakable” was the most played tune on WEXT last week. This isn’t the official video for the song, but it’s worth seeing. If you have unreliable tear ducts don’t watch it at work. Or in front of the guys at the firehouse.

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