Unemployment's Sad Farewell

Monday marks the end of an era, and the birth of another full-time desk gig. Wow am I excited. I think it moved. I have been clean and work-sober for 30 days. I really didn't go anywhere exciting, just did some things, and saw others that I had been putting off for far too long. Vacations are for people who work. Saturday is no different than Tuesday. Instead of watching Kung Fu or fishing, I read a little here, loitered a little there. There is something really noble about getting java and then doing an about-face, and walking back home in honor; passing dazed neighbors as they drag their aching bodies to the metro.

It was God's way of reminding me why I called in sick and went to NYC with my mom, brother and sister for those couple of days, a month before I quit. One of the best parts about this
time period, was not having a woman telling me to get a job. On the contrary, many found it quite attractive.

I spent many unproductive sunny poolside afternoons staring at beautiful women, eating nachos, drinking mocha's, and staring some more. I was able to take care of some painful Peace Corps paperwork, and in the process, visit some not so well-known sites that DC offers; such as the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Bourdain's DC restaurant and the National Zoo. I finally mailed birthday presents that were two months late. Got some photographs framed. Did the shave and haircut thing. Also, am I the only one who thinks that 50% of the people going for a haircut really don't need one, and just do it out of routine?

This is all good and well, but despite my best efforts, the end is near. I have no words of wisdom, like "Take some time off and take stock of your ... " or "Take some time and think about ... ". Rather, I have 48 hours to find a way to get rid of this new job and continue the envious bliss.

You've got mail?

Months ago, a couple neighbors and myself, over tasty German adult beverages, were outside of our apartments engaging in what is always an interesting conversation. Really, I'm fortunate to have excellent neighbors. That cold evening topics ranged from relationships, to politics, to alcohol, due largely in part to the latter. However, something profound came up that night that is worth further consideration, obviously, because it hasn't left my head and I'm writing about it.

In today's society people talk in one of two ways: the cellular phone or the Internet. Shit, that's the same thing, sorry. In fact, I can't remember the last time someone confessed to me they wrote a genuine letter, on lined 8 1/2 x 11 inch paper, walked out to their mailbox, and flipped up the little flag up. Can you? My own tech-savvy mother hasn't even done it since I've been out here; that being said, I am humored when I receive her emails [this week there was an attachment on one]. But there is another angle to this communication fiasco, the loss of the human element; the personal, genuine touch that comes with taking the tedious steps of writing a letter and filling it with glitter or some other cut up pieces of shit. Greeting cards are a cop out, plus ecards are alot more interesting. Furthermore, dialing someone up has now become a thing of the past.

That's what technology does, it makes us lazy. Names have been replaced with screen names; mailboxes with inboxes. Admit it, it's much easier to end difficult relationships through a text message, email, or instant message, than it would ever be over a phone call, or if the minerals are strong enough, actually in person. Has anyone ever called you back to tell you that you didn't get a job? Yeah, me neither. It's now even easier to cancel plans on ugly men or women, or say "Merry Christmas" to thousands of people like my friend Steven Goldstein. Tears really flow down my eyes when I get those text messages every New Year's Eve.

Understandably, emails have their place [ie, sending resumes, daily correspondence, sending nude pictures quickly] The worst text message: "Hey hows it going?". Just call dammit, if you want to have a conversation. And the worst time to do it: the weekend, when phone calls are unlimited.

Ripping the Heart Out

We need more reviews like this one. I rarely read these as is, but I have a particular interest in this region, and somewhat, this story. Lazily on my ass, I viewed all the TV commercials barking about "Oscar worthy" this and "best performance" that and blah, blah, blah. I always enjoy hearing the other side of the story, especially when it is a first-hand account.

Understandably when you turn the rights over to a studio to do your story, they pretty much have free reign on what comes into their money-grubbing minds. But the least they could do was represent your main character, Danny, not his wife, authentically. Remember, no Pearl, no story. From the reviewer, and personal accounts, it reads as if this should be an investigative documentary about him, not her. Not some drama cesspool. Furthermore:

But recasting a story just so we can tell ourselves that we've found a hero is too easy. It's the quickest way to convince ourselves that what happened wasn't such a bad thing, that it had redeeming value, that we can close the book on it and move on with our lives. We do it too often -- with television shows about ordinary people with extraordinary powers, with magazine features that extol the "heroes among us" and with our impulse to elevate every story -- think Jessica Lynch, ambushed and wounded in Iraq -- to one of heroism.

is a wonderful side note about heroes and how we label them as often as Sam Adam's does its beer. It's also nice to see an admission of guilt in assisting with the process. What should have been done, is to tell Pitt and Aniston, to piss off and find an indie director who wanted your assistance every step of the way to ensure the validity of Pearl's character.

Best of luck in finding anything more about Mr. Pearl's death. "It is absolutely the business of a journalist." I know it probably hurts to hear that.

Mole, Masala, and Mochas

A few years back I dated this girl and we started a weekly ritual to try one new restaurant a week. I know, incredibly original. But with my busy work and school schedule, we managed to comb the valley before I left for an internship on the east coast. Furthermore, we discovered that we previously ate out way to much and deciding on this made the most of our trips out. Together, even after not lasting a year, we still managed 52 new restaurants, some as just friends. If you happen to stop by SLC, here is your culinary starting place, anything else is a waste of your precious layover.

Some overall observations about dinning in SLC. It is underappreciatedly great. It's much cheaper than NYC, LA or WDC, but not lacking in flavor or authenticity. When it comes to a good coffee shop -- despite popular opinion about the Mormon population -- SLC rivals Seattle and Portland in really, really good local roasters, and astonishingly, there are plenty of them. I could write up a separate entry just for those. The reason I don't, is cause there wasn't one I really did not like. And, yes, you can order alcohol with your meal. And even for you lushes, that too is cheaper.

Below is a short, mixed sample of what you can do in between disembarkment and departure:

Bombay House: I will keep this brief. Eat here. Nothing fancy, just amazing, reasonably priced India fare. Briyani, dynamite. Curry, outstanding. Masala, amazing. You know a restaurant is good when it is forced to pack up and move for zoning reasons, and the business still booms. Sort of like groupies, the people follow you, anywhere. This place is a priority when I return.

Mazza: Best hummus to this day. I am comfortable, and stick by the statement. It's a small, simple establishment but you will never forget what you just had. For non-vegetarians, the kaftas, shawarmas and kebabs are done well in both their sandwich or solo form. My best friend Meghan is a vegetarian. I am not. But the falafels she introduced me to where done well.

Kyoto: Sushi can be either really, really good, or shit. There really is no in between. I have never walked out of a sushi place and felt so filled in a very good way. Kind of like a "cleansing" feeling. Also the Kobe steak is ridiculous. It also has a great Japanese atmosphere about it. The sushi chefs are engaging as they meticulously roll your fish, rice and avocado.

Betos: This is an institution. The shack on 3300 South State Street is my favorite. Still the best chicken burrito to date. This place falls into the "hole in the wall" category. Open 24 hours makes it even better, shifting crowds from Taco Smell. Eventually, it will be these guys buying out the Chilis and Chevys. Salsa bar is included, cashiers speak little English and nothing but Telemundo on the tube. Muy beuno!

Red Iguana: I love mole. I love it's flavor, texture and temperature. I make no apologies for that whatsoever. There is a reason this place doesn't advertise alot, the food speaks for itself. Situated in an area known by locals as "Little Mexico", you feel right at home in Pueblo when you pull up. If I remember correct, they devote an entire section of their menu to the varieties of mole on tap.

Cedars of Lebanon: Not to be confused with the brand name in supermarkets. Better ambiance than Mazza, and still very good. Slightly more expensive, and make sure and reserve the back room on a Saturday night with the belly dancers. Excellent for a Mormon bachelor party. Included is a Lebanese deli attached to the left of the restaurant for lunch goers.

Bohemian Brewery: Who thought Vespas would make a great decorative item? Obviously, beer selection, specifically Czech, is not in shortage. Like other breweries in the area, you can sample in different sizes. Scandinavian fare is typically rare in SLC, which gives them an edge, but their taste is not. If my grandpa, who is a WWI vet, wanted to go back, I knew it must be good. Awesome schnitzel, plus everyone around the table during their anniversary dinner, seemed pleased.

Sugarhouse BBQ Company: Located in probably my favorite area, slightly resembling Berkeley, this place will fill up fast during lunchtime. It is Memphis style bbq. Haven't been back since it finished remodeling, but if you have to add space, you're doing something right. The sauce was what did it for me. There is a smokey flavor to everything and goes excellent with Cutthroat Pale Ale. Probably one of the best beer/ribs combination out there.

Rodizio Grill: More meat. More Brazilian meat. Also, in a very cool part of SLC, despite the recent trenchcoat, nut-job shooting. While carnivores are being fed, vegetarians can surprisingly lust after one of the best salad bars. It's a nice combination of juicy slices of meat, coupled with a cooling sensation from fresh stuff at the green bar. The best part, for the quality, it's inexpensive, especially during lunchtime. The downside, you won't be productive for the rest of the day.

The Pie: Alright, there isn't a single Italian restaurant on this short list. Get over it. Eat at The Pie. At the base of the U, in a basement, hides another institution. I spent many unproductive study sessions here. Thick and over-cheesy pizza is a beautiful thing.

Potomac meets Nile, Yangtze, Amazon, ...

Blanketed with over-priced, high rise condos, inhabited by the white, upper class of the U.S., it is refreshing to land in an estuary of others from distant lands. Be it South Americans working in economics at the World Bank, Eastern Europeans working for their embassies or the IMF, or Mongolians in IT. There is something to be said about rarely hearing your mother tongue in the elevator or laundry room.

Experiences rooted by living in such circumstances are scary, but very cool. Like when a Mongolian family tried cooking a turkey on Thanksgiving. Being the pragmatic people they are, when the damn bird wouldn't fit in the oven, they just left it open; allowing them to meet our fantastic Arlington Fire Dept. Or the time when my Argentine neighbor asked me to request a couple of Cambodian lesbians to turn down their music so she could sleep. Concierges are East Indian, Filipino, Ukrainian and Moroccan; pool lifeguards all from the Czech Republic.

With North, South, East and West plastering each of the four edifices, it's no wonder that residents come from each corner of the globe. Rather than seeing barbwire, names of past/ present lovers, or fancy designs; Genghis Khan like helmets tattoo the shoulders of gym rats. While free morning coffee, newspapers, shuttle service and a computer/fax/printer center are cute attractions, I wouldn't trade nights of authentic Turkish coffee with the ambassadors assistant, or first hand accounts of Mother Teresa in India, for anything. Those that enjoy the former, please, do us all a favor and stay put.

Padre Day

With my own father on the other side of the continental U.S., I celebrated with my VA padre, Char. Grilled some steaks, observed him tinkering around the yard landscaping, and watched the U.S. Open on HD. There really wasn't a better way to watch it, so here's the abbreviated version of how it all went:

1:00 Brett arrives and we haul out to Fairfax in sweetness, where we find Char toiling in the yard like Tiger to make a single birdie putt and Baddelley not to cry after the first hole.

3:00 Tiger tees off, Baddelley tanks, and Angel lights up on some fairway.

3:30 to 6:00 15 holes later. Pittsburyk surges, Tiger keeps paring, and Angel flicks bud onto fairway and finishes +5.

6:30 Char begins the grilling and Brett finishes bathing sweetness. We break out the TV trays for the 17th and 18th, Tiger's last hope. Angel takes another drag.

6:45 Bunker shot on 17 is really the final straw. Another par. To 18, never mind, he lost by a stroke.

7:00 Angel stands on some walkway cheering forever, eventually realizing he actually needs to go down and get the trophy.

7:30 Angel points and laughs as he walks past Tiger and receives the cup via translator. Muy bueno! Laughing as you walk past Tiger is ballsy.

7:45 Angel signs deal with Marlboro and converts trophy into world's largest ash tray.

Paperwork

It arrived two days ago; via First Class Mail, with my name and address glaring through the rectangular window.

The first page basically outlines what is in said package, and well, blah blah blah...

On the second page they tell you what most people mess up on and how it often delays their departure. Then some guy's name to call if there are questions. I bet he loves his job.

I thought the third page [REPORT OF PHYSICAL ABILITIES] was a little thought provoking, question #5 being my particular favorite:

Can you bend, squat, kneel and climb without any problems? (Remember, many countries only have squat type toilets)

( ) Yes ( ) No

Question: How do the later two relate to the former [kneel and climb in relation to bend and squat?]

Dress Code Debacle

Today, everybody is writing about The Sopranos. I really don’t give a flying, and the fact that so many people are concerned with it, kind of scares me. I watched it, it was a good show; now get on with your dismal lives.

In any case, the weather has changed...and it's getting f&*@##$%^ hot! I slowly wandered into DC only two metro stops, got off, and was sweating profusely. It occurred to me that, if I was suffering, then what in the hell were people in suits and ties going through? It's that time of year when baby blue shirts turn into navy blue, pink to neon red, only two seconds after stepping out of the office. It's that time of year when you walk into the office and some loser tells you, "It must be hot out there." And you respond with, “And that’s why you’re a secretary.”

So this got me to thinking about doing away with suits, ties, and slacks. Rather, nice khaki shorts, short sleeve shirts, and sandals. Switching attire has a high probability of lowering that sweaty stank from all your employees who have to walk blocks to your building…which is about 90 percent. Morale can only go up, and stress decline. I realize there are construction workers around the country calling me a pussy right now…but they are also the one’s in shorts and t-shirts. And "casual Friday" is bs. All that goes is the suit.

Note: Be especially sensitive on Mondays. They are especially pleasant because the AC has been off the entire weekend to conserve energy -- and takes light years for it to come on, this morning was not a neat reminder.

Zoo Part Deux

Memo To all Tourists

I realize this post is about a month or so too late. But it is still possible to contain the problem. Depending on where you are from, the levees broke, or put another way: your kids were let out on their summer break. This resulted in you making a big mistake -- the family pilgrimage to the nations capital, where I now reside. In Salt Lake, they came in the winter; in DC they come in the summer. I really need to start finding a place of employment that has zero monuments/historical sites.

The following are three simple tips to help losers visiting the DC area, if you already know them, congratulations, you are not a loser, still read them anyway:

1. Most of us use the Metro system. Avoid this mode of transportation during the hours of 6-10am and 4-7 pm. In fact, don't use it at all. Take taxis, you don't know what to do when the doors open, or what side of the escalator to stand on. (walk= left side; stand= right side, and yes, this applies to both up and down those technological marvels) And you look at the map like its fireworks on the fourth of July.

2. When piles of you disembark those large buses and invade eating establishments, try to avoid this and pack a lunch. Seriously, go to the store, buy some bread and lunch meat, and fix up a bologna surprise. This goes for lunch and dinner. I dare you to try a Starbucks Monday thru Friday -- we work here, which means we drink here, which means we need our coffee a hell of a lot more than you. A great distraction example are the little t-shirt vendors, they are really there to keep you out of our malls.

3. If you ask us where a certain monument is, we will screw with you. If you can't figure out which is which, we will take advantage of it. If you ask us where the Lincoln is, we will send you to Jefferson. Same goes for the Holocaust, when you really want Air and Space. Educate yourself before you come, it gives us more of a challenge.

Other places to go visit rather than DC: Canada.

The Zoo

It’s not every day you wake up and immediately find yourself in the distinguished company of the top four or five percent of the population – I’m making the most of my new found status, as it could change any day now. I relish my new found sense of accomplishment, realizing that such a feat is not easily attainable. The risk itself is enough to make some cringe and back out at the last minute.

The benefits certainly are overwhelming. For example, rather than motivational speaking tours, I am able to make long anticipated trips to the zoo, displaying to little elementary school kids everywhere, that they too will someday, if they apply themselves, walk around this park with their heads held high in pride.

With a stalwart bloody mary-screw driver-mimosa pregame under my belt, I march past the lion sentinels and into the National Zoo. It’s been a good five years or so since stepping into a sanctuary of caged beasts. This place is a huge crap shoot. Some of them know you are coming, and hide behind bushes. Thank God it’s free. After a couple hours meandering I leave with one conclusion: there needs to be a certain time when adults can visit, and certain times when children can, OR double the quantity of animals and make two parks: one for adults and one for children/families.

More in common

There is an article out there today which sheds some portion of light into the Israeli decision to take over the West Bank and East Jerusalem in the Six-Day War. While his questions are worth a thought, so is the commonality of the US decision to take over Iraq. One key difference is that we do intend to leave Iraq, while Israel is far from releasing the WB and EJ. Worth a read, just to get the international affairs part of your brain moving.

Drug Store Protocol

It happened again. Convenience /Drug store customers never cease to amaze me. I can only imagine what it must feel like for the employees. Be it a CVS, Rite Aid, or Walgreen’s, it's all the same. I don't think it helped that I had been slow roasting in the afternoon heat and so therefore, displayed Bush-like patience. Here is my case, brought before the masses, for a simple, standard in Drug Store Protocol, known as DSP:

Violation resultant in disbarment from aforementioned establishments within a 10 mile radius from my apartment.

Section 1.1

Mass grocery shopping to be left to the supermarkets. Applicable, but not limited to, Safeway, Harris Teeter, Giant, Albertson's, and Trader Joe's. Notice, you have plenty of other options -- they also have amazing engineering and logistical devices known as "express lanes" and "self-checkout", drug stores do not. There is a reason for that. Compliance is appreciated.

Section 1.2

Not paying attention while talking on cellular devices, that lead to stupid questions and the trying on of cheap pink or blue sandals, is frowned on as an act of the highest level of stupidity. Notice any changing rooms at a CVS? That's because you shouldn't be buying articles of clothing there in the first place. Do this at the mall or your other retail options. Again applicable, but not limited to, Nordstrom’s, Macy's, Meier & Frank, Mervyns. You can try on as many exciting outfits there as you like.

Section 1.3

Be it understood that Drug/Convenience Stores are intended for the sole purpose of buying crap in small quantities. There are no shopping carts, only hand carts. Guess why? They don't want you to buy a lot of stuff. Neither do I, and every poor soul standing behind you. There is not a produce, meat or delicatessen. Therefore, there is nothing to smell and make sure it "feels right". Everything is in some package form. The clerk doesn't even ask you if you want paper or plastic. That's because if you are normal, you don't need a bag. You take your gum, magazine, or bottle of water and leave the premise. The following items take priority:

a) Prescription refills
b) Gum
c) Water
d) Magazines

...Armenia

As luck would have it, Alexandria hosted their annual Armenian Festival the weekend I got the news; and it's a good thing cause I know basically nothing about this entire area. I realize I could go somewhere else (like Georgia or Azerbaijan) but I thought I would make a conscience effort to learn as much as I can about all three.

First off, this country is learning to cope with the workings of a free market economy. When I told one lady what I would be doing, she sounded optimistic about the IT industry there. Okay, so far so good. I asked the same lady what the weather is like there, she mentioned that winters extended into May! This is sounding better as the conversation keeps going -- I'm more a fan of winter than summer. Then, I walked over to some Armenian volunteer society booth and discussed what is going on with Armenia and it's neighbors, most notably, Iran. This lady told me Armenia happens to be just 30 minutes by plane to Tehran and that, contrary to our western media and the neo-con community, actually quite safe. While I don't think I'll be breaking bread with the Ayatollah, passport privileges permitting, I could see my curiosity getting the best of me.

Caucasus Region

It took me a while to figure out exactly where it was the recruiter told me I would be off to. Then, he told me I had been nominated for a computer science project in either Georgia, Armenia, or Azerbaijan early in '08. I know just about nothing regarding this area...which makes it all the more interesting.

More details later...