Another rainy day

The weekend started out magnificently, with loads of sunshine and warm temps for most of the day Saturday. The runners got to run, the boaters got to boat, and the loafers got to loaf. Things began to turn late in the afternoon, with the skies darkening substantially and finally opening up. Best laid plans for bon firing smores had to be cancelled. Exhausted from the sun earlier in the day, everyone drifted to sleep before Midnight.

Today's sky has an inauspicious tone, and I am weary. While a day inside watching old episodes of Will & Grace on Lifetime would typically be just fine, we're in the woods damnit. And we're suppossed to be outside on a boat getting drunk and later sitting by a fire getting more drunk.

Every time I'm vacationing in an outdoor setting, I am reminded of a particular family vacation from the early 90s. My parents and I were in one of those Northeastern states (Oregon?), when we decided to take a jet boat trip on a particular river in the area known for its dangerous rapids. Ordinarily, these jet boat trips are relatively begnign. The boats have so much power they are able to glide right over the rapids without a person inside even getting mist on his shoulder. It's just a touristy trap kind of thing.

On this day, we were joined on our timid excursion by a woman whose exact weight was hard to pin down, but I'd guess she topped 400 Lbs easily. If you know anything about boating, you'll know that most boats aren't designed to accomodate this kind of monstosity. There was pretty much only one safe place for this woman on the boat -- right in the middle as close to the aft end as possible. Of course, she wouldn't have much of a view from that position, so the woman refused the captain's polite suggestion and took a seat (or three) on the side of the boat, near the front.

All is well until we get to the first rapids. As the captain guides us into the rapids, I notice this particular venture is much more choppy than the usual glide. The boat is violently rocking back and forth, and side to side. Water is splashing into the boat with every churn. Suddenly there is a very large noise "THUD." The 400 Lbs gorilla has fallen out of her seat and is laying face first in the middle of the boat - quite obviously in some pain. The captain leave the wheel and rushes to her aide. Remember that we are still in the rapids, bouncing up and down and getting compltetely soak. And now there is no one guiding the boat.

After making sure the wmoan was still concious, and not bleeding severly, the captain returned to the controls and turned the boat around. A new problem emerges. With the extra weight spraled out in misery at the front of the boat, we don't have enough power to get back up the rapids. The captain begins yelling for all of us to move forward and backward on the boat; trying to use the waves form the rapids to help propell us back up the river.

This strategy works, and before long we are out of danger. The obese woman is removed from the boat and ambulanced away, and the rest of us set off to test the river again. This time 'round all is smooth sailing, The boat glides over the river rapids just as it is designed to do.

A few years after this vacation, my family got a phone call at our home in Iowa. The woman who fell was suing the tour company, and we were required to give depositions about the accident. Lawyers from both sides called and interviewed us abotu our recollection. We never got flown to Oregon for the trial, and I never heard if the woman won her case.

Cabin Fever

Memorial Day weekend, and I'm in the NorthWoods of Wisconsin. Eagle River to be exact. I'm attending Big Gay Weekend II(TM), hosted by the ever popular Justin and Chad. So far we've done the things you might expect to do in a cabin by the lake -- namely, watched HGTV on the satellite television. Currently the dishes from breakfast are in the dishwasher, so you can tell we're really roughing it up here.

Later there will be jet skis and 7&7. In that order. Never operate watercraft under the influence, momma always told me. As it turns out, nearly everyone attending the weekend gala is a running enthusiast. I tried running once in eighth grade, it didn't agree with me. So I've got plenty of time to read a few good books and otherwise vegetate while the rest of the gang is getting their exercise kick in for the day.

Check back later this weekend for hilarious moments and outtakes from the proceedings.

If you had to be a piece of fruit in a fruit salad...

Today's Minneapolis Star Tribune had this little article about today's corporations and their eagerness to find the right people for the job. Having been on several different (mostly unsuccessful) job hunts in my short life, I've encountered some strange questions; the most perplexingly stupifying being "Given the choice, would you rather skydive or scuba dive?" What the hell?

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I hate standardized 'personality' testing for jobs. I always fail them. I once sat through three hours of technical testing for a position with Qwest, and then was turned away from the position because I didn't pass the computerized personality test. The last test to be administered. Not only did I not pass, but the company had no system for giving any feedback as to why I did not pass. It was the most asinine thing, and I was mad about that one for weeks on end.

Besides my personal inability to pass these types of interview roadblocks, I also object to personality testing in a more general sense. It feels a lot like discrimination to me, not based on the typical discriminatory factors, but rather on how one might prefer to prepare a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A question whose answer allegedly gives unique insight into an individual's ability to perform daily tasks. Ick.

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Anyone else had a strange interview question? What's the most bizzare thing that's ever happened to you in a job interview (cupcake: nevermind -- we all know)?

Oops! I did it again

I like to think that for all my bitching about hating my career in retail, at least it provides me with a relatively stable middle class lifestyle. I feel pretty financially secure. Sure, I've got my fair share of the average American's credit card debt to work off, but I make regular payments.

Last week I got a letter that had been forwarded from my previous address from Xcel energy dated May 1. Because I do not pay electricity in my new residence, when I moved I simply called Xcel to cancel my account and pay off my last bill. At least that's what I thought I had done. The letter claimed that I had not, in fact, paid my last bill which was now more than 3 months over due. It also stated that if I didn't pay them by May 8, they would turn my account over to a collection agency. Naturally I got the letter around May 9.

I've paid the bill (I think), but not without a few phone calls from bizarre area codes. I'm just hoping that they know I paid the bill and will stop calling to collect. I've never dealt with these people before, so I'm not sure how they operate. But its not hard to imagine a scenario where I periodically get calls about this bill for the next 10 years.

When I want to buy a house in 10 (or 20) years who wants to bet that this will be an issue?

The power of Geek compels you.

I've decided to do the best possible thing one can do to lift spirits -- spend loads of money. Specifically, I'm thinking of purchasing some field audio equipment in order to do some radio documentary work. I'm looking into different equipment options, and here's where I'm hoping you PoE audiophiles will help me out.

What I want is a portable, durable audio recorder. Not the top-of-the-line $5000 model, but not the $50 at Wal-Mart model either. Here's what I'm looking into so far (this) and (this). Do you think it's better to go with MD or Flash for recording? Which gives better sound quality? Keep in mind I'll likely be working with uncompressed audio, but most pieces won't be more than an hour in length.

Also, what about microphones? Keep in mind that the mic would be used primarily for recording human voices, and not live music. Should I buy a recorder/mic set or just purchase each component separately?

Come on PoEers, I know you can come through on this one...

Arrgh! It's driving me nuts!

The cartoon network series "Robot Chicken" has officially endorsed this stand-by joke of mine. They used a variant on one of their shows. Honestly, I saw it last night at 3 AM. I swear.

What's Next

Now that it's official that I'm not even properly qualified for the position I currently hold, I've decided it's time to finish my stint in retail. Only problem is, I'm not sure where to go from here. I'm so far removed from television production that my chances of landing a decent paying job in that field are slim and none, and slim just left the building.

Having tried and failed many times to either change positions in retail, or branch out into a new career field I'm running out of ideas. Do I go back to school? If so, do I try for grad school in media, communications, and/or politics? Or do I just go back to undergrad and try for a degree with more obvious career choices like accounting?

What do people do for a living anyway? I obviously have no idea. And how do I stop feeling "locked in" by my current salary? These are rhetorical questions. I'm not changing jobs or going back to school because I just don't do something if it is not in some way counter productive.

Yada Yada Yada

Down for the Count

Well so much for that position with a certain unnamed national retail company. I've been knocked down yet again, and this time I don't think I'll be getting up. I guess JC Peney is as good a place as any to live out a career in exile.

I've got a woman's thighs
and a woman's mind
neither are nice.

Women's rights!

A remembrence fund has been set up in honour of my career search, you may mail a contribution (tax deductible) to the following address:

Dave Career Memorial
13690 West Niles Blvd
Santiago, Chile AZ4 6T7

Weather every 10 Minutes

Without exception, the people who work in front of the camera at your local TV station are equal parts worldy egomaniacs and sheltered, dim-witted know-nothings. Also without exception, the smaller the market in which you work, the larger the egos of said anchorfolk. Imagine what it was like working in the 30somethingth largest market in the US. God help anyone who gets stuck working in Billings, Montana.

In Iowa, local TV personalities are real celebrities. The kind you might wait in line for hours to see and still feel good about yourself. If George Clooney and Kevin Cooney were each attending separate events in Des Moines, it'd be a toss up as to who would draw the largest crowd.

Worst among anchor offenders are the weather gu, er 'meterologists,' with their delusions of meaningfulness they attach to boy-who-cried-wolf type weather hysteria. Prime-time television might as well not even exist in Iowa, because the meterologists are always pre-empting it to talk about the rainstorm halfway across the state.

During my stint at one of DSM's local TV huts, I worked with a particularly obnoxious misogynist, excuse me I mean meterologist, whom we'll call John Updike for the purposes of this story. John was young. Fresh out of weathivision school and ready to impress. He'd lick anyone's minge to get ahead, but he'd draw a firm line at sucking dick. I never much cared for him.

Because John was a certified idiot, I spent a lot of time intentionally making him mess up on-air. Most of the time I would take pleasure from forcing errors most viewers wouldn't notice; giving him bad cues, mis-timing his countdowns, and 'accidentally' switichg off his prompter which showed him his position relative to the map on the green screen behind him.

After one particularly annoying Saturday morning assholish comment from John, I decided it was time for him to pay. We were doing a segment on dog owners after the break, and John was to toss from the weather center to the anchor-with-guest in the other studio. During the break, John was pre-reading the copy for his toss on the prompter and asked me how to pronounce "Daschund." I was already looking for a way to embarrass him on-air, and hallelujah the man had tossed me a home-run pitch, right down the center of the plate.

I confidently explained the word was pronounced "Dash" (as in Mrs.) Hound." He accepted my answer without question and during the toss announced that anchor 'Joey' was in the studio with some special dash hounds.

As if the anchor in the studio with the puppies were in on my devious plan, he corrected John on the air before beginning the interview. Ah, the power of live television to make the people who make it laugh.

Pass/Fail

The same girl asked me for change 5 different times today. To give her at least some credit, she did catch me on both sides of a clothing change; out of my fancypants duds for my final interview with a certain unnamed national retail chain, and into my hipster wannabie garb complete with designer (if not wholesale) jeans and Puma zippy.

Begging, however, ranks higher on my list of moral reprehensibility than scamming. Scam artists are the scum of the earth. At least beggars have had to swallow their pride and have the decency to ask you for your money outright. Scammers want nothing more than to rip you off, sucker.

I believe everyone on the planet gets scammed at least once in his or her life. It happened to Ben and me on the streets of Liverpool a couple years ago. A moderately well-dressed, middle-aged, white woman stopped us on the street corner and explained that her wallet had just been stolen and she had no money to get on the bus home. All she wanted was spare change to call her children and tell them she was okay.

Ben and I being suckers; we decided to help her out. It should be said that even though we'd been in the UK for a few days, both of us were still in that phase where foreign currency feels much like play money. Our inability to feel any sense of value associated with the thick coins filling up our pockets led us to give the woman something in excess of 5 Pounds sterling. A total sum of more than $8 using the exchange rate of the day. Not a lot of money, but certainly a phone call and a week's worth of bus trips to scam other passers by.

I remember my dad getting scammed once in San Francisco as well. We were about to buy fare cards for the Cable Car at the Fisherman's Wharf. A man standing next to the fare machine stopped us from putting our dollars in, and became our personal transit broker. He took our money in exchange for 3 fare cards. How convenient for us that we didn't have to use that clumsy machine. Thank you kind sir. Naturally, the fare cards were expired.

It should be noted that both my mother and I saw directly through this particular scheme, but were powerless to stop my father from diving into the abyss.

Do you have any embarrassing stories of being ripped off? Maybe we could do a TV show about them. Where's John Stossel when you need him? Or did he already do this story 1000 times?

"Tomorrow" belongs to mediocrity

Did you see the West Wing series finale last night? For your sake, I hope you had other plans. To sum it up in one word or less: boring. Man, did that show go down hill after Sorkin stopped doing coke.

The final episode did its best to try to appease long-time WW viewers whilst wrapping up the loose ends from the rather soap-opera-like story arcs from the past two seasons. In this and only this was the last installment a success. If you were waiting for one of those profound, "they did it again" moments so typical of West WIng's past, then you were left waiting. And the final shot? Air force One flying over the Atlantic on the way to New Hampshire?

Lame.

The Password is...

(Medium)

Back from the windy city with computer finally working properly; I'm now able to relay some of the best bits from this past weekend...except that I've already forgotten them or Cupcake has stolen my thunder by posting the best material.

Seriously though, what do you call a pilot's wife? Or for that matter a pirate's wife?

Most of the Chicago crowd thought my post about the relative nature of the word 'medium' to be quite lame. I guess I'm a lot like Stephen Colbert, in that if you don't get my ironic, cynical comedic voice, then you must be an idiot. He and I are both genui. That notwithstanding, the medium gag played a big role in the events of said weekend.

In fact, the weekend took on an official theme: Medium.

Much time was devoted to long-winded explanations of how the current activity actually applied to the weekend theme. Most convincing was the game of Hangman (TM) played over dinner Friday night. The category? You guessed it. What do you think the answer was. I'll give you a hint, if you are thinking of that vaguely familiar Chloe chick from some late-night commercials a few years ago, then you are getting warm.

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Yay for me. Pictures to follow.

Cubs game Fri. They won. Wrigley's great. Windy. Rained all day Sat. & Sun. Nancy. Umbrella. Poof.

New and Improved?

Dear Readers,

I sincerely apologize for the lack of posts, lame or otherwise, for the past few days. Apparently I have the computer equivalent of a black thumb. My brand new Toshiba notebook, which I use to write these important messages to all of you, recently went under the knife to have the factory installed lemon-of-a-hard drive replaced.

You might recall that the same disease is what rendered my previous Sony notebook deceased. Luckily there were lessons learned from the first go around with computer hardware disasters, so none of my important files were lost this time around.

The computer is out of surgery now, and resting up a bit before returning to normal duties. Thanks for your patience regarding this matter. We at PoE hope to be able to serve up more bullshit in a day or so.

Sincerely,
PoE Staff