Monday, July 23, 2007

Oreos are a fruit

Good news for all of you junk food fiends looking for creative ways to get your five-a-day of fruits and vegetables.

Every morning, I go to Honey Dew Donuts (which kicks Dunkin's butt) for coffee. This morning, I noticed a sign advertising their new fruit smoothies.

One of their flavors: Oreo Cookie.

I wonder if Double Stuffs count as two servings?

Friday, July 20, 2007

Hell of a time to be a professional sports fan

And I'm not just talking about the Red Sox laisez-faire approach to protecting a 14-game division lead.

The NBA has mobbed-up officials possibly fixing games.

The NFL has one of its marquee players accused of running a vicious blood sport. (Burn in hell, Michael Vick, burn in hell).

Jeez, Barry Bonds and Major League Baseball's look-the-other-way pursuit of Hank Aaron's homerun record looks like the feelgood story of the year when stacked up against the competition.

And in the NHL ... Do they still play professional hockey around these parts?

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A vast wasteland

The latest scientific research recommends not allowing children under the age of two to watch television, so as not to let their little brains rot at an early age (only put into more scientificy words).

Early on, the missus and I decided that it would be a good idea to heed the sciencey reports and keep Baby Boy EC away from the idiot box for the first couple of years of his life. I'm not sure about the missus, but I mistakenly assumed that this was a decision we wouldn't have to worry about too much for the first year, since I couldn't imagine BB EC would show all that much interest in the boob tube til that time.

But, like much else in life, I was sadly mistaken.

Since BB EC turned two months old, he has taken every opportunity possible to sneak a peak at the evil black box, no matter what's on - Food Network, Red Sox game, test pattern. A couple of times, we've even caught him staring at it while it's been turned off. The first time we caught him watching TV was about a month ago, when he was screaming as babies will do and I was walking him around the room singing songs about monkeys and diaper pails, as dads will do when babies cry. Suddenly, BB EC stopped crying and his eyes turned big as saucers as he stared across the room.

"Good boy," I said. "Daddy knows how to make you ... Hey, are you watching 'So You Think You Can Dance'? No, no, no."

Since then, whenever we're in a room with a television on, we have to make sure to turn BB EC in the opposite direction, lest he be lured in by the magical allure of Alton Bown's Good Eats or another barnburner of a Terry Francona press conference (You know, our guys played hard, sometimes the other team just gets that extra opportunity, blah, blah, blah). And because BB EC shares a room with his mommy and daddy, when we put him in his crib, we have to make sure his eyes are closed before we turn the TV on. On more than one occasion, we've thought he was asleep, only to discover he was faking it and watching Househunters instead.

Unfortunately, BB EC has some allies on the TV front in the form of Grammy and Grampy EC. When we were over their house for Sunday dinner, we told them that we don't plan on letting BB EC watch TV until he is at least two.

"You and your father watched TV when you were little," she tells us. My dad and I also have the attention spans of gnats, so that might not be her best argument.

Try as we might, however, there is always the temptation (on my part at least, don't tell the missus) when BB EC is especially fussy or screaming, to walk by the television verrrrry slowwwwly and let him catch those bright colors and frantic movements out of the corner of his eyes. So far, I've done my best to resist and stick to my improvisational songs about monkeys, pampers, and spaceships.

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Friday, July 13, 2007

A chronological list of my jobs over the past 23 years

- Furniture store (three hours)
- Elks Club washing dishes
- Catering business
- Drycleaners
- Purity Supreme/Stop and Shop (nearly eight years through high school and college– longest held job ever)
- Newspaper – South Shore (where I took a pay cut from what I made at the Purity Supreme/Stop and Shop)
- Another newspaper – South Shore (where I also delivered the newspaper)
- Newspaper – Metrowest
- Delivering newspaper (Brookline)
- Johnny’s Foodmaster (this job and previous at same time as Metrowest newspaper)
- Construction reporting (Actually, neither construction nor reporting)
- Assorted and various freelance reporting assignments
- My wife’s company (part-time for one month)
- The produce section at BJs
- Trader Joes (where I was denied promotion because I was not chipper enough)
- Newspaper – North Shore/part-time
- Another newspaper – North Shore
- Newspaper – Back to South Shore

I’m sure there’s at least one job I’m missing somewhere along the line. And once again, I apologize to any Brookline Tab subscribers who did not get their papers reliably in 1999.


Friday, July 06, 2007

Dress in layers

It is generally better to wear too many pairs of pants than not enough.


Somehow, I ended up at work today wearing a pair of running shorts under my trousers (and over my boxer shorts).


When trying to rush off to work while trying to soothe a crying baby and taking the dog out, it is always best to take an extra minute to make sure your wardrobe won't get you scooped up by the men with nets and plopped in the funny farm.

So yes, it is a warm, humid day, and I have one too many layers of clothing someplace where it isn't all too easy to remove while at work.

Could have been worse. When I called up the missus to tell her about my 'wardrobe malfunction', I'm not sure she was convinced I had actually taken the extra step to put on trousers.

"Yeah, so I'm wore my running shorts to work," I told her.

"You're wearing pants, too, right?" she asked, none too convinced.

Guess I could always go for a jog after work.