Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Mid-Week Update

Sorry for not posting yesterday. Yesterday was what we in the writing biz call "a full day." Between the meetings, assignments, a medical appointment, and dinner with a friend (more on that later), there was simply no more time left in the day to post. Moving on...

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The commute back to Ballston via subway on Monday was a tad on the weird side. I managed to snag a seat on the last car, which is an oddity unto itself but that wasn't the weird part. At the next stop, a bunch of folks boarded including a semi-attractive woman who sat next to me and a guy I can only describe as Karl Rove if he had just emerged from a cave. The Rove lookalike had the world's worst five o'clock shadow and a fedora with both sides flipped up—kind of an urban Howdy Doody.

The woman whips out a huge stack of papers about as thick as a phone book. Reading on the Metro isn't unusual, but the ginormous stack smelled like urine. I wish I were kidding. The odd thing was this woman seemed fairly well put-together unlike the Renaissance Festival reject that gave me the stink eye (pardon the pun) the other night when my bag accidentally brushed against her.

If sitting next to the port-a-john manifesto wasn't enough, the Karl Rove lookalike absolutely refused to use the handrails nearby for fear he'd lose his place reading some real estate brochure. During the rush hour, the ride can be a bit turbulent so without fail, this guy was flailing about like an extra on the original Star Trek. He came close to colliding with me (still seated) a couple of times as I tried my best to ignore it.

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Dinner last night was had at Ned Devine's Irish Pub Restaurant. Drinks were ordered and conversation ensued. About ten minutes later, the PA system comes on where an obnoxious DJ welcomes us all to Country Tuesday—your favorite country hits and line dancing lessons! Much to my surprise as I tried to eat my pub steak as quickly as possible, the place was suddenly swarmed with line dancing enthusiasts moving like some drunken chorus line to some godawful cacophony filled with twangy voices, the occasional violin, and the same three guitar chords. Needless to say, I tried to get out of there as soon as humanly possible since there was no amount of ale that could make the situation any better.

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While I appreciate Congress passing, and the President eagerly signing, the new fuel standards bill, it seems like a giant piss in the wind. Vehicles will be required to get 35 miles per gallon by 2020. Whoop de friggin' doo. In the meantime, the US auto industry will complain and probably not do anything until the eleventh hour. And who's to say the auto or oil lobbies won't do their damnedest to get the law overturned before then? Sorry to be such a skeptic, but I'll believe it when I see the 2020 Hummer getting that kind of gas mileage and not a second before.

2 comments:

Chris said...

I think the milage issue is probably line-wide though... So they'll probably have a double decker 2 lane wide Hummer H10 that gets a quarter mile to the gallon for sale by then but then balance it with a gas powered skateboard with a rollcage that gets 100 mi/gal, so that the two average out.

Bill D. said...

Yup, if there's one thing I associate with an Irish pub, it's country line dancing.

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