Monthly Archive for January, 2006

This is the page that Dave Barry touched.

This (below) is Dot’s unwashed hand that Dave Barry shook.

This is the blog entry that Dave Barry will never see to understand Dot’s Deep Devotion.

Yes, I love Dave Barry. Er, right after Jay, and maybe Hello Kitty, and definitely a little after James Nachtwey.

Dave (we’re on first name basis) is on his book tour for his latest “Dave Barry’s Money Secrets” and stopped over in Seattle, where a large crowd, including a woman with a nasally laugh who – of course – sat right behind me according to the Laws of Murphy, waited to be enlightened on all things Financial.

“When will the War on Terror end, Mr Barry?” someone shouted during the Q&A.

“Montpelier is the capital of Vermont,” he answered. (Or not.)

I don’t think he replied to any questions or gave any useful financial advice (except to die because dead people don’t need to file taxes).

He did, however, reveal the name of his college band, The Federal Duck, so called because in a hazy moment of 1960s college, Dave and his buddies were by a lake when ducks waddled towards them and one of his buddies became convinced the ducks were law enforcement. It was the ’60s.

In my case, queuing up to meet Dave Barry was like a silly-schoolgirl-trying-not-to-blush moment, as well as a 20-minute mental castigation for forgetting my camera. Hence, only the “after” moments are captured here.

I vaguely recall saying, “Uh” when I finally stood before him.

I know many people think Dave takes the “easy” route in writing with his comic satire, but I appreciate anyone who pulls off funny writing. You know what? Life’s too serious to take seriously.

Here is Dave’s blog entry on coming to Seattle: “Today I’m on my way to Seattle, which I understand is where they keep the Internet. I look forward to seeing it.”

And because none of you asked, here it is.

Our latest, most important, most time-sensitive announcement on the ongoing Shower Saga (henceforth known as “The Project”) is as follows: $end Help Plea$e.

[Here is the back story to those not in the know. Our shower base leaked to the downstairs unit so Jay ripped out the ceiling below and is building a new shower base. Meanwhile, we shower downstairs in the unheated, unfinished unit. Ah, The Project.]

I have discovered the point of all those Polar Bear Clubs you read about – you know, people who jump naked into freezing lakes in the name of health, (in)sanity and “Hair on the Chest” – there is no point.

Give me my heated shower any day.

Here is Jay working on The Project.

What is this, you ask? This is the cardboard mould, that begets the wood mould, that begets the cement mould, that er, should be begetting us a new shower base.

Don’t ask me about that “Hair on the Chest” remark. Jay says that all the time I run down to take a shower. I’ve never heard it. Must be one of those Americanisms, including this gem Jay blurted out last night, the “Chinese Fire Drill”.

Apparently when someone in the car yells it, and you are at a stop sign, everyone in the car gets out of the car and runs around the car and then gets back in.

What is the point? Hair on the chest, I say.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, the US Government is asking for online search records of Americans, ostensibly to revive an online pornography law. No. 1 online search company Google refused, but Yahoo, MSN and AOL have cooperated with the government.

(Don’t forget this government just got into a little kerfuffle over secretly taping Americans. Taken together, these don’t look good.)

If what Americans are searching for is any indication of wrongdoing, then I don’t know what to make of Mesotherapy.

“Mesotherapy” was one of the top 10 searches on Go.com yesterday. Other illustrious words included online degree, shopping and real estate.

I was curious, so I clicked on the word.

People, don’t.

I was suddenly faced with images of some needle being inserted into some body.

Mesotherapy – which for the record, is not even in dictionary.com – is the use of injections into specific parts of the body to allegedly reduce fat and cellulite. It’s new and not entirely safe.

No matter. We all want the quick fix. And we wanted it done yesterday.

Forget exercising or eating right. We’ll do damn well what we please and pay someone else to stick a needle in us to get rid of cellulite. Gawd, what is happening to us?

If the Government wants to know what people are searching for, I could have told them: We live like Homer, but we want to look like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.

What is it about pandas? Look at this. Just look at this.

Awwww. Ohhh! Ahhhh! How cute!

Do you think you could look at this and then feel like invading a country? Or stealing your neighbor’s newspaper off his porch?

So what is it about pandas?

In Washington, tickets to see a panda at the Smithsonian’s zoo were snapped up in two hours and some even sold on eBay for as much as $200 a pair. In a Thai zoo, two mating pandas made national and international headlines. I would have pasted that picture here, but I feared copyright infringement. (Well, actually, I feared pandas doing the nasty might change your mind about cute pandas forever.)

I have no scientific explanation for our Panda Love, but the New York Times actually wrote a story attempting to quantify cuteness using a “Cuteness Index”.

Want to satisfy that sweet craving before dinner? I have a site for you. Look responsibly.

Don’t look at Cute Overload and operate heavy machinery.

Jay and I watched Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith last night.

In one of the movie’s fight scenes, Yoda takes on Chancellor Palpatine. For a two-foot tall green Gremlin lookalike who is a trillion years old, Yoda kicks some light sabre ass.

As Yoda fell, I screamed at the TV set, “Nooo, Yoga! Yoga!”

Jay burst out laughing as I quickly realized my error and re-screamed, “Yoda! Yoda!”

The Force is weak in this One.