Dog Day Afternoon

 A quick bit:

In the spirit of this God-forsaken economical mess I have been doing my best to support those deserving of support.  NOT the auto executives who take their private jets to a bailout meeting with Congress, NOT the banking big wigs who spend $1.2 M redecorating their offices (see http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/asia/la-fi-thain23-2009jan23,0,6020240.story).  

What douches.  Honestly, I can't think of a more accurate word.  The average home value in Detroit right now sits at $18,000.  Yes, that's for a house.  And these DOUCHES spend $30,000 on their flights to Washington.  Merrill Lynch's former CEO spent $1,405 on his office trash can... which is where Congress should have shredded and stuffed their bailout proposals, instead of handing the moolah over to these pompous bunch of self-inundated assholes.

I'm sorry, I digress.

So, as I was saying... I choose to the "back to basics" support approach.  Where, in these days, people can shop in conglomerated warehouses that sell everything from tofu to toilet paper, I have tried my best to eat at those tiny neighborhood spots, buy breakfast at the corner cafes, and, yes, even get my dog treats from a dog bakery down the street.  I know that one man cannot make a difference, but one man who tell others might be able to keep these "Mom and Pop" operations open a little longer during these bleak times.  

See Spot Eat, to anyone is Nashville looking for great, organic, cheap dog treats... located on Bransford Ave.

Buy local, get to know your neighborhood.  

Here's My Tip To You

Do you work hourly? If not, then you're salaried, I guess. Maybe you make some commission, too. Either way, add up what you make a year, divide it by the amount of hours per year you work (2080 if you do the 9-5 thing). So, regardless of whether or not you work hourly, you can figure out your wage. 10, 15, 20, 25. You can break down, then figure out around how much you make per minute, per 10 minutes, etc. Say you make $20/hour, you make $5/15 minutes, 33 cents/minute, and .5 cents/second. So why the fuck does some jackass behind the bar expect me to tip him $1 for every 5 seconds it takes him to pop off a cap and hand me a bottle of beer?!

Do you find yourself asking yourself the same question? I'm not one to complain or dare be the one to say that what the women and men behind the bars of America have an unimportant job. I also am not "cheap" and will always give at least 15%, usually close to 20%, after a meal. However, snarky comments, a rude look, or scoffing from a bartender... are they not in the service industry? Buddy, I didn't hit you up this time, but the next time I take up 5 seconds of your working day I'll throw you a Washington, but not if you act like a prick.

My general policy is every other bottled beer I'll tip. Recently, though, I have started opening tabs, which was strictly against my social rules, mostly for fear of forgetting the close and having an automatic 25% tacked on (usual standard policy). After being treated like an inconvenience by many bartenders (see Sam's Sportsbar), opening a tab tips the scales in the patron's favor in several ways: 1) It make the bartender believe you will be drinking like a fish, and buying rounds of shots and girly drinks for your friends... 2) no exchange of money = faster transactions... 2b) those annoying $3.50 prices won't leave you with jingling quarters in your pocket... 3) you don't have to feel guilty (if you're on the "every other round" tipping policy) of people wondering why you didn't tip, you cheapass... and finally, most importantly 4) at the end of the night you can tally up the appropriate % (was the bartender a bitch? or more like Tom Cruise from Cocktail?) tip accordingly.

Ladies and gentlemen, don't confuse me for a moneygrubber or a miser. I'm merely trying to reward those bottle jockeys who work to please with a smile and a long pour. The assholes, pricks, and douche bags who think their position behind the bar means they can choose to liquor up girls all night and ignore you while you're holding cash right in front of their face? Well, they can suffer the consequences of their actions and go home a little short. But won't that just feed their behavior? Maybe, but it might also get them thinking... hmmm, what if I actually act like I'm in the service industry and treat every customer like they're the most important customer? Well, maybe then they'll stop holding a grudge and scrape up a few more tips to get them through their GED equivalency class.

Did this rant come about as result of a recent encounter? No. Just a thoughtful observation from watching too many sweat-band cladded, spikey haired, tight-shirted sauce slingers act like they're fuckin rock stars who don't have the time of day to serve their customers.

Cheers.

Doggin' It

While Nashville's weather is about as unpredictable as Lindsey Lohan's sexuality, I am fully comfortable with taking advantage of a beautiful seventy and sunny weekend. Even though it might be spitting rain and 33 degrees tomorrow, the current conditions inevitably joggle memories of springtime and everything that comes with it. Shorts and flip-flops, open windows, an afternoon baseball game with a cold beer, and, most of all, a hot dog.

What better food exists than the all-American concoction of mixed beefs and a toasted bun? The rest of the ensemble is up to you. That seems to be the message of the "Dog of Nashville" hot dog joint down the street from Sam's and the McDougle's. And what better way to celebrate an amazing Sunday afternoon than to order up a grilled "Barnyard" dog, complete with pulled pork cole slaw, and BBQ sauce? Wash it down with a cold beer (which they serve) and my day is complete.

The menu is various and leaves room for improvisation. As long as they have the toppings and condiments you can have them make it. A definite must, if you ask me, is the "Rise and Shine" hangover-curing grilled, bacon-wrapped hot dog topped with a melted cheese and a fried egg. Hangover cured, heart-attack imminent. In a rush, order ahead and pick it up. Check out what you want on www.thedogofnashville.com I guarantee you will not be disappointed.

So next time you see the clouds parting, head down to Belcourt Ave, be a true American, and grab plenty of napkins.

Are You Lost Also?

After being sucked into the under-toe that is Lost! during the first 4 seasons, I have been left with no option other than to watch the 5th season. It pains me to succumb to corporate America's commercial fish net; but indulges are such called because they are knowingly a guilty pleasure.

However, after 3 Lost! episodes I got to thinking:
AT WHAT POINT DOES A SHOW BECOME A SOAP OPERA (BESIDES ITS WEEKLY TIMESLOT)?
I came up with a little bit of a list...
1. The plot is non-sensical
2. It seems like the writers have been to Bonnaroo a few too many times
BTW: Why does that Daniel character whisper every fucking line he has?
3. Horrible, fake orchestral music
4. Quick scenes, that sometimes do not even involve dialogue, but maybe one-liners from each actor involved in each scene
5. Seemingly unexaplainable transitions between scenes... wait we're on the mainland *** flash*** no we're on Hawai'i - I mean the south-Pacific - now!
6. Cheesy last-line-of-scene dialogues... you know what I'm talking about, like every line Sawyer or Locke has
7. Inane medical logic... whether on the island or in an actual hospital, since when will cutting off somebody's leg in an impromptu island OR give somebody a better chance of living (season 1). Or how about when Saeed is just chillin there in the hosital and some male Focker nurse comes in about to administer him some drugs into his IV, which is inexplicable ACROSS THE ROOM from the bed?! Oh yea, then Saeed moves from the bed next to the male nurse without the dude (who is obviously not a nurse, but some sort of mercinary or assassin) even noticing. How the hell does a mercinary not hear a guy rustling out of bed, stepping onto the floor, and dashing across the room in a matter of seconds?
8. Easy to predict, once you get "in the retardedly rediculous zone"
9. Cheesy one-liners, obviously... "I'll drive!" "We're running outta time!" or my absolute favorite, "Do you know WHEN we are?"
10. Single camera shots of actors' facial expressions instead of dialogue for a scene
11. Ridiculous rhetorical questions
12. Excessive furrowing of eyebrows
13. The actors are so unrealistically good looking (for a "random group of people" who crashed on an island) you don't know if you'd rather do Kate, Juliette, Jack, or Sawyer (regardless of your gender)
14. Before you know it a huge monochromatic logo of the show appears in the middle of a LOST!

Cue weird, freaky music

Suspending My Disbelief

So, the worst-case scenario has played out.  And now, my morning and mid-day routines of listening to ESPN Radio and Fox Sports on XM must be put on hold.  At least for the past couple weeks I could pretend that the improbable hopeful Cardinals would somehow pull another rabbit out of their helmets.  But now the radio waves will inevitably be bombarded by talk of the Steelers Super Bowl title.  I'd rather swallow shards of glass.

Am I a sore loser?  Yes.  Will I keep pretending the NFL season ended when the Ravens beat the Titans?  Yes.  Will I respond with a blank stare if you start talking about how the Steelers won the Super Bowl?  What Super Bowl?  I am jealous?  No.  You couldn't offer me anything that would make me stop cheering on the Ravens.  Being the constant under-dog, a city that finally reclaimed its football glory after having it uprooted 29 years ago, a true sense of renewed pride and love for the color purple is something that will always remain.

No major analyst had the Ravens anywhere close to .500, and most predicted that we would go 5-11, not 13-5.  Excuses?  Not at all.  If you had said to me at the dawn of starting an NFL season with a rookie head coach and a rookie, 3rd string quarterback,  "Would you be happy, without any regrets, if the Ravens get to the AFC Championship game?" I would say, "damn straight!"  

26 injured reserve players later, playing the majority of the season without one of the best corners in the league, without one of the best nose tackles in the league, with second stringers scattered over the field, the Ravens prove that we are undoubtedly the toughest win to get in the NFL.  No other team will out-work you and out-hit you.  We ended the seasons of several running backs,  put a stop to the ridiculous wild-cat/wild-hog formation, hammered the final nail in the coffin of "America's Team", and ended the silly notion that Tennessee actually had a decent team this year.  We made it further than 28 teams.  Coming in 3rd place (yes, 3rd place because in week 12 we kinda put a 36-7 beating on the Eagles) when many picked us to finish 3rd in OUR OWN DIVISION... I'll take it.  O yea, do you all mind doing all of that while playing 18 straight weeks, a season with virtually no bye?  Our players' responses resounded each week as they, through their play, said, "sure thing, no problem".  

Show me a tougher team, with more stacked against them, who made more out of less than the Ravens.  

Crabcakes and football, baby!