Serial cereal blogging

pineapple upside-cake.

Serial cereal blogging

Apple Jacks.

Another word I hate

How often is it that someone starts the answer to your question with the word, "basically," and proceeds to give you a complex, detail-laden description of what they want to tell you?

A phrase I hate

Lots of people like to fall back on saying, "At this time ..."
As in "At this time, we will all move to the bleachers for a musical number by Joan Jett."
You don't need it. Ever.
The meaning is always the same as if you didn't add "at this time."

Two words I hate

1. "Approximately." Just say "about."
2. "Utilize." Just say "use."

How I went to a Jonathan Coulton and Paul and Storm concert and got a really big t-shirt (Part three)

Part three of three:
After a break of about a half hour, Coulton came out, with no one, not even Paul and Storm, to introduce him.
He began with the first three songs in the same order as his live album, “Best. Concert. Ever,” which included, “The Future Soon,” “Ikea,” and “Shop Vac.”
Coulton noted onstage he had been to Richmond a few months earlier, as the opening act for They Might Be Giants. This was the first time he played in Richmond as the headliner. To be safe, he jokingly told the crowd, he was going to play nothing but TMBG songs, because that seemed to go over pretty well for them.
He played a lot of the music from “Best. Concert. Ever,” but substituted a few different songs, too. These included: “Big Bad World One,” and “Space Doggity.”
While Coulton sang “Mandelbrot Set,” a song about the mathematical formula developed by Benoit Mandlebrot, which has something to do with infinite complexity, two folks in the back held up a sign, lit with a flashlight, displaying the actual formula.
As he began singing the song, Coulton saw the sign and started to laugh, but kept going. I didn’t know he took a little creative license with the formula in his song.
At the end, he whispered the crowd he did not use the exact formula because he didn’t really understand it that well.
“Neither does Benoit Mandelbrot,” he joked.
Certainly, being arithmetically impaired, it made me feel good to know I wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand it.
As usual, Paul and Storm joined him on stage for a few songs.
Both acts are great on their own, but I really think Coulton gets better with Paul and Storm on stage. In addition to being great backing vocalists, they give him someone to joke and interact with while on stage.
They got into some really funny digressions between songs, some of which involved the “deuchebag pose,” and another that involved getting Coulton into a giant cybernetic suit so he get away from the microphone and move around the stage with no cords.
This kind of interplay is why I like going to concerts -- it really helps the audience get to know the people who are performing, and not just hear the songs.
I can listen to the songs better on my iPod or car stereo than at a concert -- I can rewind them and listen over and over -- but it’s the human touch of getting to see what these performers are like on stage that makes me want to go to a concert.
Coulton brought Paul and Storm back for the encore and ended with “First of May.” If you have never heard this one, it struck me as being just plain offensive the first time I heard it, but the more I listened to it, the more it made me laugh.
Before performing, he did say, “If anyone has any kids in here, get them out now.”
(Just for the record: Coulton did not perform “Big Dick Farts A Polka.)
So, the concert was over, and I left after buying a Paul and Storm t-shirt. Sadly I discovered too late it was not an XL, but was in fact an XXL. No way that’s ever gonna fit.
(If I was in college I could use it as a wall decoration, but I am too mature for that now. I have mature people things like Winslow Homer paintings. Never mind the Spirit poster autographed by Will Eisner and the photos of Brett Favre and Bon Feller. They’re in frames, you, know. That makes them “art” and not “decoration.”)
One other note: never trust a GPS. The darn things have a sense of humor.
I activated mine to get me from the Hat Factory to the highway to drive home. I blundered around underneath I-95 back and forth for probably 10 minutes as the GPS read, “Acquiring satellites.” Which is GPS language for “Nyahh, nyahh, nyahhh.”
Finally, using my own navigating skills, which mostly involved driving around aimlessly under the highway, I found a sign for I-95 and I-64 and followed it.
Wouldn’t you know, the second I merged on the highway, the GPS knew exactly where I was and had my trip home calculated?

Note: I provided links to the Paul and Storm and Jonathan Coulton Web sites. I did not embed links to every individual song, because that’s too much like work. Find ‘em yourself.

I was held prisoner by United Airlines (Or: Why I hate flying and really hate flying United.) A farce in three acts

Act three:
When I saw the video monitor, my connecting flight was due to leave in 10 minutes. From a different concourse. At the far end. And I was at the far end of the concourse where my flight from Indianapolis de-boarded.
So, I decided what the heck.
I ran down concourse C, ran down the escalator to the connecting tunnel, avoided the moving sidewalk because there were too many people on it, and only paused briefly on the up escalator, before sprinting down concourse B to my gate.
The scene at the end of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” in which he was running through people’s back yards to beat his parents home, was running through my head. So was the music.
When I got there, the flight hadn’t left, but all the passengers were crowded around the gate ready to get on.
The woman working the gate was handing out boarding passes to people who were flying standby. Naturally, I assumed they were probably giving my seat away, since this was United and I was two hours late, anyway.
I went to the counter. This attendant was pretty efficient. She took care of the people in front of me effectively and quickly. She told me I still had my seat. Relieved, I went to get a drink of water somewhat happy I ran all the way there.
A few minuted later, we boarded that flight.
Guess what happened next.
We taxied out toward the runway. I saw our plane pull away from the runway procession and park in a holding area. Then the captain announced we’d have a brief delay while they recalculated our route because of bad weather.
That took another hour. During which we sat on the plane again. But, it was only an hour, and we took off, a two-hour flight from home.
So, to total this up: I spent five and a half hours on two planes for what should have been two and half hours.
The plane arrived in Norfolk and I went to baggage claim to get my luggage.
It dawned on me that my bag probably didn’t make the transfer in Chicago. I had hurried to get to the next flight, but the United baggage handlers probably didn’t. Heck, the way the clerk in Indianapolis reacted to me, I figured it was in Abu Dhabi by now.
I watched every bag come off the line, and none of them were mine.
So, I walked to the baggage office, which was empty for the night. Pretty soon, one employee came along and started rounding up the unclaimed suitcases. He said he was the person who would take care of tracing my bag.
This guy was the best customer service person I dealt with the whole day. He was patient with all the cranky people who didn’t get their suitcases.
One lady was asking questions as if she had never lost a bag before.
“This says local address. I live two-and-a-half hours from here. Is it OK to put my home address?” and “What time tomorrow will they deliver it?"
He handled all the questions like a pro, and helped everyone, including me, fill out their claim forms.
My bag was in Chicago, he said.
So, I went home.
The next day, late in the afternoon, after hearing nothing about my suitcase, I checked the United Web site, which told me they had no idea where the bag was. Did it even go to Chicago? Abu Dhabi it was, I guess.
So, I called customer service, and the person the phone assured me it was indeed still in Chicago. Why it hadn’t been put on the next flight to Norfolk, I have no idea.
United finally brought it to my house Sunday afternoon about 4:30 p.m.
(Interlude: When I lived in Ohio, sometimes the airlines lost my bags. However the Toledo airport had one guy, in the days before GPS, who always brought your bag back the next day. I know this because it happened three times over the course of several years, and it was always the same smiley, happy guy who brought my suitcase back. He always acted as if he really hurried to get it to me, too.
In fairness, I didn’t meet the delivery guy this time. He called just as we were leaving to go swimming for the afternoon and dropped off the bag.
So anyway, next time I fly United, they can make it up to me by getting me to my destination three hours early (even if that means, on a short flight, arriving before I left), not losing my bag and giving me candy bars.
Until then, I am going to avoid flying United and dread it if I have to.

How I went to a Jonathan Coulton and Paul and Storm concert and got a really big t-shirt (Part two)

Part two of three:
(For some reason, this is the hard part to write because I wasn’t taking notes, and I am going to have a hard time reconstructing everything.)
I was somewhat surprised as the concert started, because nobody, not even a cheesy local radio personality, introduced Paul and Storm. They just came out, talked to the crowd a little bit, and played their song, “Opening Band:”
We are the opening band

We are here to do five or six or seven songs

“Don’t go too long, and get the hell off the stage”

We are the opening band

We’re probably not the band you came to see tonight

But it’s alright, ’cause soon we’ll go away
They tour with Coulton so much, it’s kind of hard to see them as a traditional opening band. They almost seem like a double bill.
Interestingly, it was Paul and Storm’s first time in Richmond, so when they asked everyone in the audience to raise their hands if this was the first time they had seen Paul and Storm in person, lots of hands went up. (Myself included.)
They played for about an hour, including a lot of great songs, including “Cruel, Cruel Moon,” “Nun Fight,” “Nugget Man,” “Elvis Died Today,” and many others.
The songs are, of course, hilarious, but the duo proved capable of some great improv moments, too.
Early in the concert, Paul took to flinging water from his water bottle on the people in the first row. After a few times, they joked that it was turning into a Gallagher concert.
“If you see the watermelons coming out, run,” Storm told the crowd.
They came on stage carrying pieces of bread, because they said they didn’t have any paper before the show to write their set list on. Eventually, they tore up the bread and threw it to the crowd. (It did not multiply, and there were no fishes involved, for the record.)
Paul started making fun of a picture that was rotating on a video board throughout the Hat Factory. It was an ad for some event, featuring three people, one of whom was sticking his hand out with his fingers as though he was pointing across his body. This got referenced over and over throughout the night, as the “deuchebag pose.”
It got to the point where Paul would point at the board and the crowd would cheer.
In the middle, they played stylistic parodies from their new album, “Do You Like Star Wars?” of They Might Be Giants had they written a Christmas song called, “Christmas Eve Eve,” and one of Coulton, called “Live” about a sad mad scientist.
(Just for the record: For the same contest, Coulton wrote a stylistic parody of Paul and Storm, called “Big Dick Farts A Polka.”)
At the end, they played two “tribute” songs to other famous musicians, one was “If James Taylor Were on Fire,” and “If Aaron Neville Were Waiting for a Parking Spot at the Mall, but Someone Else Snagged it.”
They concluded with “Frogger! The Frogger Musical,” (Yes, it’s a song about a video game.)

(To be concluded tomorrow.)

I was held prisoner by United Airlines (Or: Why I hate flying and really hate flying United.) A farce in three acts

Act two:
(While waiting, I ordered a small dish of ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery. The girl accidentally made me enough for a medium, and gave it all to me for the price of a small. I didn’t really want all the ice cream, nor did I eat all of it, but that’s beside the point. Something good did happen on that trip, but it had nothing to do with United.)
When the time for my flight came, there was a plane waiting, but no activity at the gate. About two minutes later, a guy came from one of the nearby gates.
With no microphone, he shouted out that the the plane would begin boarding. He called out zone numbers, and we began lining up to board in a scene out of air travel in the 1960s.
Without a bar code scanner, he began letting people on the plane simply by looking at the boarding passes.
At this point, I noted the oddity, but just happy to be boarding. But, this was United, after all.
As soon as I sat in my seat, the pilot announced because of a backup in Chicago, we were going to experience a brief delay. He would hear back from the folks in Chicago in about an hour and then he’d update us on how long it would be.
So, we weren’t even flying in an hour. They were going to tell us in an hour how long it would be before we were flying.
We all sat in the plane, unable to exit and maybe go sit in the airport where we could at least go to the bathroom if we wanted.
One man asked the steward why we boarded the plane. The steward answered the pilot just found out after we had almost all gotten aboard.
Whether or not he had been coached to give that answer, I have no idea.
So, we sat on the tarmac for an hour.
(Interlude: Let’s note I hate flying, anyway. I hate being cramped up on a plane full of other humans. I find few things more uncomfortable.
If I have an aisle seat, everyone walking down the aisles bumps me incessantly. If I have a window seat, I have to wedge myself into a corner to get comfortable. If I have a middle seat, I always wind up between people who resemble Shaquille O’Neil and, say, a flatulent John Candy.)
At the end of the hour, the pilot said he had just heard from Chicago, and it would be another delay of about an hour before they’d tell us when the plane could take off.
I was going to miss my connection, unless departures has been delayed as much as arrivals. That would seem to make sense, but this was, after all, United.
They handed out water during the delay, but a better public relations move occurred to me while I was sitting there:
Pilot: “Unfortunately, we have ben delayed another hour, but to make up for it, we are handing out, free of charge, candy bars for everyone!”
I think that would have gone a long way toward creating some good will toward United.
But, instead, we got a little plastic glass full of water.
Thankfully, an hour later the plane was cleared to leave and we did.
I got to Chicago, and walked off the plane at a normal pace, assuming either my flight had already gone, or it had been delayed a similar amount of time and I’d have a hour to get to the next gate.
Of course, the answer was neither.
(To be concluded tomorrow.)

How I went to a Jonathan Coulton and Paul and Storm concert and got a really big t-shirt (Part One)

Part one of three:
(Sorry about these multi-parters. I seem to be a bit prolific lately, and I don't want to subject you to a huge post all at once.)
(That's not my picture by the way, but it looks a lot like what I saw.)

So, I was waiting in line at the Hat Factory in Richmond, a half-hour before the concert was to start, with no ticket.
Although it technically was a May 13 Jonathan Coulton concert, and I was there to see him too, I was way more excited about seeing Paul and Storm, who were opening for Coulton.
I have been listening to them for six or seven years, when they were still part of a band called DaVinci’s Notebook. Every time I had a chance to see them until now, I missed it. Heck, I wanted to see Coulton a few months ago when he was opening for one of my other favorites, They Might Be Giants, and I missed that, too.
I went to a TMBG concert years ago in a situation with no pre-purchased ticket, but I was there much earlier and the guy in line in front of me sold me one of his extra tickets. We talked about comics until we entered the venue. It was all general admission, and I wound up in a balcony and I never saw the guy who sold me the ticket again.
This time, nobody had extras and I had to hope Coulton and Paul and Storm hadn’t sold the Hat Factory out.
One good thing was that everyone in line around me was carrying their tickets they had bought online and printed at home. They were not competing with me for admission.
But, would I get in? If so, would I get decent seats, or would I have the Hat Factory equivalent of the old Cleveland Stadium seat behind a pole?
You can have some interesting conversations while standing in line, though.
One fellow pointed out a sign that said “No weapons, drugs or smoking in the Hat Factory,” to which he said something like, “I can’t imagine someone getting knifed at a Coulton concert.”
My reply?
“Ted Kaczynski was kind of a nerd, too.”
The conversation trailed off after that, mostly because I got in the door and started looking to see where to buy tickets.
The ticket saleswoman didn’t really seem to know what she was doing. However, I did get in, not with a seat, but as general admission. I got to the door to the concert hall, if you call it that, and the guy told me to go to the far right.
The venue was small and no matter where you were sitting, you were pretty close. It is about the size of a high school gym, albeit with the walls painted black, and a bar in the back.
Low and behold, my “seat” was actually better than the ones assigned numbers and rows. The “reserved seating” turned out to be numbered folding chairs.
I was on a wide ledge along the far wall. And, I also was elevated above the floor seats, so I could see everything, even if the crowd stood up.
I spent the entire time sitting comfortably, being able to rearrange from sitting up straight, sitting Indian-style, leaning against the wall behind me and stretching my legs out in front of me.
The only problem was this guy sitting beside me, who seemed like a total slug. He came there with, I think, his wife (They both had on wedding bands, anyway.). She was laughing throughout the concert, singing along and trying to hold his hand. He just sat there. I have no idea what his problem was. Maybe he was a fan of death metal and didn’t go to concerts to laugh or hang around with nerds. Every time I yelled or screamed, I was worried he’d cover his head with his hands and punch me.
You probably are wondering when I’ll talk about the concert.
(To be continued tomorrow)

I was held prisoner by United Airlines (Or: Why I hate flying and really hate flying United.) A farce in three acts

Act One:
Let’s start at the beginning -- before I ever got on the plane(s). Let’s start at the check-in counter.
I was in Indianapolis, and I was flying home to Norfolk Friday, May 7 after a week-long trip. I was not particularly late, but I felt late because I wasn’t at the airport the recommended two days early.
(I didn’t find any direct flights. I had to fly from Indianapolis to Chicago, then back over Indianapolis to go to Norfolk. That kind of sums up the rest of this story in one sentence.)
So, I walked quickly to the self-serve check-in counter. I had one big bag to check because I had been gone for a week
Now, every other self-serve counter in every other airport I have ever used allows you to check a piece of luggage.
This one, however, was only for checking in with only carry-on bags. It even said so, in a little bitty sign above and out of sight from the screens on the check-in kiosk.
So, I was oblivious to this as I completed my check-in. I saw the little sign something like .5 seconds after I was done. This meant I had to go to the counter.
There were two people in line in front of me, usually not a problem.
Now, it has been said before by Mark Evanier here, and probably said better than I will say this, United Airlines is not very service-oriented. Most of my experiences with United are awfully similar to his.
The salient quote:
But the ones who might have had time didn't deal with my situation, either. The subtext was like, "Well, we're not responsible for the weather and we certainly aren't responsible if you were late...so you'll get there when you get there and it really isn't our problem!" The most I could get out of any of them was a directive to go to Customer Service, a misnamed department if ever there was one.
So, I walked up to the counter, where there were two employees, who didn’t seem terribly interested in customer service.
One woman was taking care of the priority prestige customers who apparently rated attentive service because paid a lot more for their tickets than I did.
The other employee was taking care of everyone else, including those of us who flew United because it was the cheapest flight.
(There was a third employee. This is a customer service technique United uses a lot, in my experience: the third employee, who you hope desperately will open another counter to speed the process and make sure the customers can get through security in time for their flights, walks up to the second employee, says something that make both groan, and then walks off. This happens several times during your wait in line. Often, just to tease people in line a little more, the third employee will even begin typing on a keyboard.)
The woman taking care of the nameless rabble who didn’t pay enough for their tickets to justify attentive service, was answering a question from the person in front of me. He wanted to go on standby for an earlier flight.
Before I got there, she had taken his ID card and began walking aimlessly behind the counter. When I arrived, she was still doing so. By aimlessly, I mean up to the first class employee, into a door behind the counter, and just randomly stopping at other keyboard stations which were not open.
If I had the sense she either: knew what she was doing, or was trying diligently to find out, I wouldn’t have minded.
But, amidst all this cogitating, there appeared to be no progress. At one point, she disappeared for a while and came back with no more information, or interest in us customers, than before.
The guy in line in front of me still had to check in and check a bag. He told me he had only about a half hour before his plane took off.
So, we commenced to discussing our experiences with United Airlines.
While we were talking, in an attempt to encourage the employee who was helping the person in front of us, I said things like, “This always happens to me when I fly United,” and “I avoid United at all costs,” and “United is the worst airline I have ever flown,” finally, “If I had to buy my own ticket for this flight, I’d have picked anything but United.”
I knew she could hear me because her blank stare turned into a glower for a moment.
After what seemed like a really long time, she found a way to let the customer ahead of us fly standby, but told him it would cost him $50.
So, naturally, because we were tired of waiting, he started to argue.
“That guy over there is flying standby, and he said it didn’t cost him $50,” the man told her.
So, this went back and forth for a while until the employee decided to resolve the problem, she had to had to kill some more time wandering around the counter, cogitating some more. After this, she finally asked the other clerk what to do about this.
Finally, she came back and said she’d let him fly standby with no fee, adding, “We’re really not supposed to do this.”
Naturally, this sparked some further discussion, but finally he left.
By this time, there was something like five or six people in line, of which I was second.
The guy in front of me checked his bag in record time, sprinted off to the security line, and then I was up.
Of course, after saying all sorts of bad things about United, I had to go up and say I needed to add a checked bag to my ticket because I hadn’t seen the sign on their kiosk. It made me feel dumb, especially after complaining so much about their service while I was standing in line.
She added my bag quickly. She was polite, but very cold. It dawned on me that I should have shut up because now my one bag would never make it anywhere near Norfolk.
After getting that resolved, I made it through security and went to the gate.
(More tomorrow.)