Sneeze Coma

Moving!

2005-09-12T09:37:00.000-07:00

If for whatever reason you happen upon this page and would like to read more, I have moved my blog space to the following address:

www.myspace.com/joejoes

Thank you and enjoy,
Joe

I'd hold out for Funyuns.

2005-06-20T15:27:00.000-07:00

I just read that a few American soldiers assigned to guard Sadaam Hussein came forward and gave some interviews.

When asked about what Sadaam was like they said that he was generally very friendly until they ran out of Cheetos. In order to lift his spirits, they switched to Doritos. Apparently he liked those so much he finished an entire Family Size bag in 10 minutes.

Damn. That's good eatin'.

It works out well for everyone, though. If he tries to escape, the guards can just follow the trail of cheesy dust.

The dangling carrot

2005-05-27T10:44:00.000-07:00

The only thing in the world that is both exciting and frustrating at the same time is the last day of work before a long weekend.

Fifty fifty

2005-05-19T13:02:00.000-07:00

Here are the 5 latest things that have made me want to smile:

1. I got cheap last-minute airfare to go home for Mother's Day. Not only did I pleasantly surprise them and make them happy, I really enjoyed spending time doing nothing but taking in the loud, chaotic mass that is my family during a meal.

2. The heavenly parking spot at the end of my street.

3. The anticipation of playing with my band tonight at a great bar in North Beach and then waking up tomorrow in order to take a road trip with the same group to play at an even greater bar down in LA. It kind of feels like a wild spring break weekend with your friends only it has a purpose and it's more "break" than "wild".

4. Taking an 8 mile hike that shifted from beach, to forest, to mountain in a matter of minutes. Not only was the view great, but it felt really good to just walk, sweat, and breath fresh air. I'm also relieved to know that my body is able to walk 8 miles in one day. I had my doubts after the first small hill.

5. Listening to my niece tackle modern English.

Here are the 5 latest things that have made we want to punch someone in the throat:

1. The average bay area home price has risen even more. It is now $622,000. I should have invested somehow, some way. But, hindsight is 20/20. Of course, in the bay area, hindsight actually costs double because it comes with a nice view.

2. I bought a nice pair of bass strings and they were defective. I didn't even know that was possible. Of course, I bought them from Guitar Center so I shouldn't be surprised.

3. Whatever it is in my apartment that is making my nose run, causing my nightly wheeze, and clogging my ears. Pretty please, with sugar on top, quit it.

4. Sitting in the middle seat on air airplane for over 5 hours while experiencing the symptoms caused by the allergies noted above.

5. A woman, when walking the 50 feet from my car to a building in a light drizzle of rain, tells me as if I was her understudy to "Wear a jacket....with a hood". That's all she said and it wasn't in a humorous manner. I didn't know her. She didn't know me. She was just walking around in her glorious hooded jacket and decided that, before the end of her days, she MUST impart this knowledge to mankind or we shall all suffer in our slightly uncomfortable damp clothing.

I was slightly put off immediately upon moving to California because people don't really acknowledge one another's existence when crossing paths. However, if this is the type of thing that happens in California when you stop being ignored, I'll take indifference anyday. That is, if I don't poke my eyes out when running with scissors or get hurt playing in traffic.

El dilacion

2005-05-05T09:10:00.000-07:00

Para el cinco de mayo, una fiesta latina de los estados unidos y un razon beber coronas, quiero escribir esta articulo en el espanol. Sin embargo, porque mi espanol es muy mal y lleno de orificios, no hay personas en el mundo (probablemente) capaz lo comprender.

Tarde en mi anos de esquela secundaria, tienden la linqua suavemente. Leen una version de "El Cid" toda en espanol para la causa de christo! Pues, permita decimos yo no se mucho ahora.

Ahora, mi espanol es una mezcla de ingles, espanol mal, traduccion literal en el diccionario, el spanglish, y charla incoherente. Asi, estimo lo es cerca de mi ingles. Pero, es und divertida buena intendar desde tiempo a tiempo.

Hombre, esta entrada chupa el tiempo grande.
Yo necesito una corona.

Buenos tardes.

Gourmet shit

2005-05-02T15:13:00.000-07:00

The older I get the more I'm learning to appreciate well-made items.
Quality is too few and far between. That being said, there is some kind of conscious or subconscious attraction to the way an object feels when it is created with quality in mind.

I just won an eBay auction for a new bass amp and it was delivered late last week. As soon as I opened it, I realized it was made with as much quality as the company is known for. Things of high quality naturally don't come cheaply. That is exactly why I bought it used on eBay. Of course, not having to buy it at a Guitar Center was worth over half the price in and of itself (see previous entry for clarification).

The company that made this amp had to have put quality high on their list of priorities because even used, this amp feels, sounds, looks, smells, and performs better than 90% of the new amps I see today. That goes a long way.

When I bought my most recent bass, I did so because of quality. It cost an arm and a leg but it will last a lifetime and, in the long run, it will easily pay for itself. That's worth more than an arm and a leg. Ok, maybe not my arm and my leg but maybe some prosthetics.

My wife recently was able to borrow a new Leica digital camera to play with for a weekend as part of a work assignment. These cameras are about as nice as you can get.

The reason I'm attrated to the camera, the amp, and the bass is because of that quality and attention that was put into creating them. These are all simple, well-designed, durable items that will never go out of style. Simply picking up the camera, or turning a volume knob, or plugging in the guitar makes you realize in an instant that what you're looking at is not just another personal possession.

Now how do we cut the price of these items by 99% and convince Wal-Mart and Costco to stock their shelves with them?

Luckily my tastes in things like batteries, soap, cereal, and good writing are not as discerning.
My bank account would be empty but I might feel, sound, look, smell and perform better.

De-evolution

2005-04-26T11:23:00.000-07:00

Man alive! I'm hairy!

I never thought growing up that I would be one of those overly hairy dudes that you look at as a child and wonder what barrel of hair-growth formula they fell in.

Then, one day a few years ago, I looked at my arm and realized I was one degree away from being a neanderthal. My hopes and dreams of being physically distant from Robin Williams went out the window in that instant.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't have a hairy back. A few sprouts on my upper arms but that's where it stops. It's pretty much a density and darkness issue. If there's hair there, there's a lot of it and it's dark, making it appear as if there's even more. But if there's not, I'm as bald and white as Telly Savalas in a snow storm.

For instance, I have huge patches of dark hair on my hands and each segment of my fingers but not my knuckles. The hair gets darker moving toward the pinky side of the hand and just abruptly stops.

(see linked photo for a recreation of my shocking moment of realization)
http://kr.geocities.com/smurfykoreanparadise/FiskeTheseHands.jpg

Monkey hands. I have monkey hands. I have monkey hands and I'm reminded of it everytime I stretch out my fingers, put them together, try to bend the ends of the fingers and clap. All I need now is a fez and an organ grinder. Maybe I could make some cash on the side.

I know. It's Tuesday. It's a slow day.

Ingest Digest

2005-04-25T10:52:00.000-07:00

I feel the need to list everything I consumed this weekend. I have also included a 3-word review of each item. The review is for your reference should you happen upon the same meal. The 3-words are for the sake of brevity.

Friday evening: Margerita Pizza w/ sausage and beers
Origin (pizza): Nob Hill Cafe
Origin (beers): Fridge
3-word review: Really friggin' good.

Saturday midday: Vegetarian burrito w/ crunchy cabage salad
Origin: Whole Foods
3-word review: Beware of gas.

Saturday afternoon: Coffee w/ cream at band practice
Origin: The drummer
3-word review: Best in weeks

Saturday evening: Frozen pesto tortellini, Cinnamon Life, Peanut Butter ice cream sandwich
Origin (pasta): Trader Joe's
Origin (life): Safeway, cereal aisle
Origin (ice cream): Safeway, 2 aisles left of cereal
3-word review: Just like Wednesday

Saturday night: Draft Guiness and 7 peanut M&M's
Origin (beer): 4th st. Sports Bar
Origin (candy): The drummer's girlfriend
3-word review: Saturday night medicine

Sunday morning: Oatmeal and a hardboiled egg
Origin: Aimee
3-word review: Nice and breakfasty

Sunday afternoon: 2 carne asada tacos, 1 carnitas taco, chips and fresh salsa
Origin: Nick's Crispy Tacos
3-word review: Muy muy deliciosa!

Sunday evening: Can of Progresso Chicken & Dumplings soup, Bowl of Cinnamon Life
Origin: Pantry
3-word review: Wasn't even hungry

All in all, I think the pizza and tacos provided the best performance.
Overall weekend eating 3-word review: Need more vegetables.

I'm no Carl Spackler

2005-04-21T09:19:00.000-07:00

The grass has got to be greener on the other side.
I don't think it could possibly get more brown than it already is on the ground of all these cubicles.

Granted, nothing's being done to fertilize it, but it was this way when I got in the yard.

Low-brow non-fiction

2005-04-18T10:18:00.000-07:00

Last night I spent 22 minutes laughing harder than I have in a long time. Part of me is ashamed to say why, but I will anyway. I was watching, what I am convinced is the funniest television show since the invention of moving pictures, a brand spanking new episode of America's Funniest Videos.

Now I know what you're thinking. Hey, isn't it America's Funniest "Home" Videos? Yeah, not anymore. They dropped the "Home". But it's the same collection of cringe-inducing crotch-maulings that I grew to love as a child.

Now don't get me wrong, Bob Saget sucked. Thankfully, the current version no longer features any relative of Jesse or those damn Olsen twins. Unfortunately, the totally forgettable dude they replaced him with sucks just as much and he hasn't bothered to deviate from the predetermined path of crappy overdubbed voices and Looney Tunes sound effects that are splattered all over the show.

So if the format, host, music and sound are all so bad, how has the show managed to stick around for so long?

The videos. It just that simple.

No writer can script comedy like the video of a small child being launched from a bean bag 5 feet into the air. No actor can truly portray the look on the face of the old man realizing he's about to fall out of his chair into a pile of cake. No stuntman can recreate the bodily sacrifice of the hillbilly in short shorts falling over the fence after blindly chasing a fly ball.

I think I have a rather healthy sense of humor. I'm a big fan of both absurd, silly comedy and intelligent, well-written satire. But nothing can consistently deliver the laughs like low-brow physical gags or fart jokes.

That is exactly why AFV is such a great television show. It's all low-brow physical gags and fart jokes. Now if they can just figure out a way to get rid of all the filler, ABC has got an Emmy-winner on their hands. Just as long as they continue to show it when there is nothing else on except for old reruns of Full House.

Klaus Meine, Ron Popeil, and Bill Gates walk into a bar

2005-04-15T09:47:00.000-07:00

This morning on my way to work, I heard on the radio that the average home price in the Bay Area is now well over $600,000. This number has risen 6.3% in the last month. Not decade, not year, not quarter.....month.

Holy fuck! These houses don't even have yards!

That means that if I bought a 5' X 5' square of dirt in Marin county a year ago today for $10,000 (which is about what it would cost), it would be worth $20,000 before summer is over.
How? Why? It's 25 square feet of dirt for crap's sake!

But have no fear....someone would easily pay that and more for my ficticious scrap of land after a fiercely competitive bidding war. And they would find a way to build a house on it.

But who? Who are these people that can afford to throw down nearly a million dollars for a piece of shit 1200 square foot home? I can tell you for certain that they aren't apartment dwellers and they aren't new to the area.

The amazing thing is the fact that many of the people who own these homes are the same ones that hang around at Starbucks and the bookstore every weekday. They don't work! How do they afford their daily $6 soy latte, let alone a house? I must have missed the infomercial that these people saw showing them that there are other options to the going to school, getting a job, working hard strategy.

Unless I somehow win Mega Millions as a single winner with a minimum pre-tax jackpot of $800 million, I will never own a home in the Bay Area. I know the odds of this happening are roughly the same odds as hearing a perfect note for note version of "Wind of Change" by the Scorpions come out of the toy piano you just handed your pet monkey, but I will continue to buy those little orange tickets.

Personally, I have no right to complain about the salary I receive taking into consideration my age and experience. But that salary is nowhere near "Bay Area Homeowner" salary. In order to change that, I would have to petition that the world change the calendar to 10-day weeks so I could start working my 5 other full time jobs.

Until the "afford anything without working" infomercial airs again, I guess I'll just listen to CD's on my way to work.

Colored water

2005-04-14T15:54:00.000-07:00

Even after adding three lumps of sugar, tea doesn't taste like anything to me.

Burnt toast

2005-04-12T09:31:00.000-07:00

Call me a grumpy bastard if you will, but I've recently encountered a new entry for my list of pet peeves. Not only is it a new entry, but it's quickly moving up the charts and setting up camp somewhere between slow right-hand-turners and salesmen doing business on a cell phone in the middle of a sales call with an actual real-life customer sitting in front of them. This new entry involves the increasing use of the salutation "Cheers".

In recent weeks I have heard this word too many times. Maybe it's just a California thing. Maybe it's just a San Francisco thing. Maybe it's just the latest in hip slang. Whatever the reason, to my ears, it sucks.

Now, when you're with a group of old friends having a drink or you're talking about classic TV sitcoms, this word can be both common and acceptable. I will even relax a little and say I won't scream, although I may cringe a little, when a bartender uses it as a replacement for "Thank you". Although I'm not a fan of the word's use outside of a toast, I'll tolerate it.

However, my tolerance for that word took a turn for the worse on Saturday afternoon, causing this annoyance to even show up on my list. I was walking home after a haircut and decided to stop in at Guitar Center, the WalMart of guitar stores, to have a look around. I've been pondering upgrading to a new smaller combo bass amp they carry so I figured I would plug it in and give it a try. In order to do so, I had to enlist the help of an employee to get a power cord and bass to plug in. Luckily for me, I was fortunate enough to be under the guidance of Cody, a professional in a leather vest. After 10 minutes of trying to solve the puzzle of why no sound was coming from the speaker, we reached our epiphany in the form of a 300-watt B-flat. Cody was thoughtful enough to have the amp turned up to 11 so we would be positive that sound was coming out. Needless to say, it was coming out alright. Coming out and going directly into my right ear that sat less than a foot away from the source. It only lasted about a second and a half but I still can't feel my ear.

So Cody and his fellow sales associate half-heartedly apologized and left me to sample the merchandise. After about five minutes of being less impressed with the amp than I thought I would be, I was more than done. I did my best to exit the bass area via the Fender side of the room as to avoid more happy encounters with my otic archenemy Cody. I was almost to drums before Cody came out of nowhere and said something to the effect of "Hey, bro! Does that amp totally rock or what?". After fending off his opinion and politely finding a way to avoid further conversation, he dropped it.....

"Cheers"

This did more pain to my ears than that 12 inch speaker ever could. I think it bothered me because, not only was it said to me by a Guitar Center employee nowhere near a visible drink, but it was said as if he were stating a fact.

This Guitar Center, on Van Ness, is only a few months old as it used to be located about a mile or so away in a crappy-looking store on 9th and Mission. Unfortunately, the staff made the move as well.

The first time I went into that store, I had an amusing encounter with one of Cody's peers. Now, I call it amusing because I've been to many a Guitar Center and have realized that the majority of the employees there are a breed unto themselves. This particular encounter pretty much summarized this breed in 30 seconds. On my last leg of browsing, I stopped in the acoustic room and started to poorly play a Good Time banjo. I heard the sound of a salesman in the next room trying to talk up the latest and greatest beginner guitar to an 13 year old and his mom. It was a familiar sound because I was that 13 year old at one point.

I knew that there was no way out of that room without finding myself in the middle of a sales pitch so I just kept playing the banjo. Sure enough, seconds later, a middle-aged chunky guy with a mustache, Bill Cosby sweater, and a nametag that read "Glen" came in and put his all-black Reebok on the stool next to me. Here is the conversation that followed:

Glen: "Hey, man! How's it going!"
Me: "Ok, thanks"
Glen: "Checkin' out the banjos, huh? Hey, what do you think of the new store!?"
Me: "Uh, it's pretty cool" (still playing with my head down)
Glen: "Pretty cool? Just pretty cool? I think it's over the top!"

I couldn't top that last statement so I chose to keep playing. Glen immediately left me alone after he smelled a sale coming from the small family that just walked in.

So despite the recent introduction and rising stock of "Cheers" to my growing list of pet peeves, it will never, ever, replace the number one item on my list.....Guitar Center employees.

Bora Bora Horror

2005-04-08T08:26:00.000-07:00

Ugh. Tired. Especially for a Friday.
A small part of it is due to the fact that I never wake up feeling rested anymore. A big part of it is due to the Bora Bora Horror.

The Bora Bora Horror consists of rum, banana liquer (which I didn't even know existed), and pineapple juice. An island native held it all together with the aid of a small blue umbrella. It tasted like a mediocre attempt for a new flavor at the Dole juice laboratory. Actually, it was great at the time because I was distracted by the indoor tsunami and floating river band cranking out the medly of Janet Jackson at the Tonga Room.

All of this business, including the grog, was actually a large distraction from what I had witnessed 20 minutes prior to "What have you done for me lately". I joined my wife and some of her coworkers at the Masonic Center to check out a new exibit from Beijing called "The Universe Within". Interesting and creepy rolled into one.

"The Universe Within" is an gallery of human bodies, or parts, displaying different systems and organs. Kind of like biology class where you look at the statue of the skeleton or the human torso where you can remove the plastic heart and put it back into it's thermoformed cavity. The only difference between that class and this exhibit is that the bodies and parts are real. They have developed a relatively new process of preserving bodies called "Plastination". Essentially, they inject a plastic resin into the body and it hardens into an extremely durable preservative. The weird part is they can inject the plastic into either the whole body, or just part. After they inject it, they boil off the rest of the body that they don't want.

So I spent an hour of my evening last night being less than a foot away from portions of real, dead Chinese people. Some were entire bodies with only the skin removed, some were cross-sections of entire bodies, some were solo organs, some were just the arteries. The first one I saw was the worst and I started to get nauseous. He was the worst because they removed only patches of his skin in perfect squares to reveal his organs and tendons and all that fun stuff. But after about the third guy, the one holding a coat hanger with his own skin on it, I felt a second wind. The fact that they were real was the creepy part.

www.theuniversewithin.org/exinfo.htm

However, after calming the nausea, I was feeling a bit more scientific about the whole experience. As we walked around, we all had small discoveries about the human body. Here are some of our major revelations:

1. The achilles tendon and the liver are friggin huge.
2. Testicles start a lot higher than one would think.
3. If you are being tortured and you have to be cut, ask for it to be on the front of your lower leg. That's about the only place there aren't a shitload of arteries.
4. The body fits a whole lot of junk in one space.
5. The stomach is not big enough to hold a 96 ounce sirloin. So don't even try.

So, after all is said and done, I'm glad I went despite the slight nausea.
When I was at the exhibit, I thought I would surely wake up this morning continually revisiting the images of these bodies in my mind. I was wrong.
All I can think about right now is how I really need to stick to beer.

The first entry

2005-04-06T14:38:00.000-07:00

You know that feeling you get right before you sneeze?
Physically, one eye shuts slightly, your nostrils flare and your mouth makes the same shape as it would if you were trying to make sense of some independent silent foreign film. Mentally, the anticipation of the sneeze itself is the only thing on your mind, if anything at all.

You know that feeling you get right after you sneeze?
Physically, both eyes lightly drop to a closed position and your jaw slowly sags down. Mentally, you are totally void of anything. A complete vacuum of thoughts if not only for a fraction of a second. The only feeling you actually notice is a numbing dumbness.

Combine the two sensations and that is the best way I can describe how I've felt for the last few years. A sneeze coma. Anticipation of something bigger and better is about the only thing on my mind, and it's slight....thanks to the hazy comfort and mouth-breathing.

I'm confident that I'll be rid of this cold someday soon.