Yearly Archives: 2013

Biking in the rain

I just got caught in the rain, big time. It’s one of these weeks where it’s raining every day, and if it’s not raining, it’s constantly just about to rain, the sky is gray and the wind is blowing, it’s an ever-present threat. And I guess it’s good, you know, for the environment, for my garden. Every day I try to make a point to go outside and hose down the plants, but even when I do it, I’m probably not out there for as long as I should be. I keep meaning to buy a sprinkler, but it’s been so rainy lately that, one, I don’t really have to, because nature is taking care of it, and two, I don’t want to leave the house unless I really have to, because it’s so gross out.

So today I went to meet one of my friends downtown for lunch. The sky was cloudy but for some reason I was optimistic, like come on, it already rained yesterday and the day before. Today is going to be different. I rode my bike. I love riding my bike. I always know exactly how long it’s going to take me to get anywhere. I don’t have to worry about the subway being late or not paying attention and missing my stop.

And it was fine, I made it downtown fine. But after lunch I headed out to bike back home and it was starting to rain, just a misting so far, so I was like, OK, I better book it before I get wet. And that was stupid, because I started getting wet immediately. A lot of the time I’ll travel with this emergency biking-in-the-rain outfit, some waterproof pants, a couple of plastic bags to wrap around my backpack. But I didn’t have anything with me today.

Still, I should have just gotten off of my bike and taken the subway. It’s totally acceptable to bring your bike on the train. But it’s just such a pain in the ass. First of all, if it’s raining out, everybody’s going to be looking for shelter underground. Time to get off the streets and get back inside. And so the normally crowded subway system gets even more crowded. And I have my bike with me. Do you know how difficult that is, trying to maneuver not just yourself, but also a huge bike through a crowd of wet people?

It’s like, what’s the correct way to get your bicycle through the turnstile? I have no idea, so I just pick it up and kind of shove it through which, depending on my angle, depending on how many people are simultaneously trying to come and go, it might work or it might not. It might get stuck, and then I’m causing a little traffic jam, and then people start yelling things, not the people immediately behind or in front of me, no, that would be a little too confrontational. But the people two or three back, safe enough to lob whatever insults they want without any fear of repercussion or altercation. They’re like, “Move your bike asshole!”

And also, whenever it’s really wet out, I have such a hard time getting my Metrocard out of my wallet. For anybody not familiar with the New York City subway, the Metrocard is a credit card shaped piece of plastic that holds money for passage. I don’t know if I’m the only one who experiences this problem, because I’ve never even really consciously thought about it until I started writing this out, but it’s impossible to get a grip on it when it’s wet. And my wallet, it’s like I need to use the tips of my fingers to pull the card out. And I can’t. And I have my bike. I’m just standing there at the turnstile, “Let’s move it jerkoff!” shouted at me from every direction.

Getting the bike on the train, it shouldn’t be a problem, but again, when it’s raining, the platforms are jam-packed. So even when the train eventually arrives, what am I supposed to do, push people out of the way so I can take up three spots, one for me and two for my bicycle? Everybody’s crammed in, wet, cold, and they see me standing there occupying all that space, I can just hear them screaming in their heads, “Way to go, jerk!”

So I toughed it out and rode my bike in the rain. It didn’t let up until I was like three quarters of the way home, but even if it’s not directly raining, all you need to make the ride really inconvenient is a layer of rain on the street. Your tires will constantly splash it up along your back, in your face, soaking your feet from underneath. It’s not pleasant. But whatever, I’m home. I have to leave for work in like half an hour. I guess I’ll bike, because if I wanted to take the train, I should have left like five minutes ago.

I’m starting a gun-lobby-lobby

I’ve been thinking a lot about guns lately, about gun violence, about the gun lobby and the power it exerts on lawmakers. For instance, the gun lobby has been very successful recently in blocking any significant legislation that would have made it harder for crazy people to buy guns. And I think about all of the violence we’ve had to witness lately, how, even in the face of such despicable acts of wanton mayhem, this gun lobby is able to shake its fist at Congress and say, “don’t even think about it.” And Congress puts its hands up and goes, “Think about what? We weren’t thinking about anything. We’re sorry.”

Don’t get me wrong. I love guns. Some of my best friends happen to be guns. But I don’t get it. If the government makes me wait on line on a Tuesday morning to take some bullshit road test just so I can get a driver’s license, why am allowed to walk into any Wal-Mart and walk out with a bunch of weaponry? And why isn’t the auto lobby pressuring Congress to get rid of these restrictive license applications?

I’m thinking that, in order to fight the gun lobby, I’ve got to join the gun lobby. That’s going to be tough, for obvious reasons. Reasons like: I don’t own a gun, I don’t know how to use a gun (I’m even terrible at Duck Hunt,) and I’ve never been to any gun lobby meetings or read any of that gunny lobby literature. I guess I’ll have to start somewhere. I’ll start writing op-eds to newspapers across the country, “Yer gonna hayaf ta prah muh gun from muh cold deyad hayands!” until Fox News gives me my own radio program or column on one of its web sites.

And from there I could start rising in rank, I could become like gun lobby secretary, treasurer, maybe even vice-president. Once I gain their trust, I’ll start slipping in my more moderate agenda. It’ll be like that scene from Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, when all of those biker guys are about to beat the crap out of him in that dive bar, and they’re all shouting out what they’d like to do to him, “I’m going to rip his throat out!” “I’m going to make him wish he was never born!” and then Pee Wee says out of the corner of his mouth, “I say we let him go!”

But there’s a risk here. What if the gun-lobby power starts to corrupt me? I mean, I’ll have a gun in my holster, so that’ll be like its own natural power trip. Anybody even so much as looks at me cock-eyed and who knows what I’ll be capable of doing? No, there’s too much risk, too much gun power, gun-lobby power. I think that, under those circumstances, I’d probably be doing exactly what the current leaders of the gun-lobby are doing.

Man, I’m already having trouble shaking from my head the image of me walking down the street twirling a gun on my finger, stopping every now and then to give a really ominous stare-down to every other person, like go ahead buddy, you have a problem with my gun, with my liberty?

No, snap out of it Rob. The gun-lobby is too powerful, and I’m no match. But wait a second, I just had an even better idea. So the gun-lobby has power over Congress in regards to guns, right? Well who has power over Congress in regards to gun-lobbies? Nobody. Yet. I’ve got to make my own lobby, a new lobby, the gun-lobby-lobby. It’s almost too simple, yet I can’t think of anything that might go wrong.

I’ll march to Washington and speak on behalf of those who speak on behalf of guns. I’ll sponsor legislation, making laws like, I don’t know, whenever the gun lobby says something, they have to say it in a really silly voice, like they all have to suck in helium from several balloons before they go on any talk shows and speak about arming kindergarten students with AK-47s. And then we can all just sit back and laugh, because whenever we look at these people, foaming at the mouth, red in the face, “The only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun,” it’ll all sound like a big joke. And it is. It’s really just this huge national not-that-funny joke. Let’s do it. Let’s start a gun-lobby-lobby. I’m president.

So much construction

There’s so much construction going on in my neighborhood. Every day it’s like I see another set of bulldozers and heavy machinery occupying two, three, four parking spots down the block, right next door, orange cones and yellow tape letting all of the neighbors know, listen up, there’s going to be a lot of work going on, so don’t even think about parking your car here.

And they start tearing down all of the old buildings, the two-story houses, which by itself sometimes takes like a month or two, I think, you know, I’m thinking about how long it takes, and I actually have no idea, I’m not really paying attention that closely. I hope there aren’t any carpenters or construction workers reading this, thinking that I’m full of shit. Even though I am mostly full of shit.

The houses go down and then it’s nonstop noise for like the next six months. It takes forever. They get these giant pounding machines, I don’t even know how to describe them other than that they’re really tall, they have these huge weights that get hoisted all the way up, and then, again, I have no idea what’s going on, but it’s like a rapid-fire pounding, like a big giant hammer hammering something into the earth. I don’t get it. What are they doing, building a foundation? Wasn’t there a foundation there before?

I can never get any sandwiches anymore. Every time I go to the deli there are like twelve guys standing around with orange vests and hardhats on. “Hey are you guys in line?” and nobody looks at me, they’re all too busy ordering sandwiches and joking around. Obviously the deli guy wants them as priority customers. That’s like fifty guaranteed lunches every day for however long it’s going to take to put up whatever it is they’re putting up. Me, I just get a sandwich every other day, maybe every three days.

And so I’m sitting here in my house and the “Pching! Pching! Pching!” of the pounding machine finally comes to an end. I’m like, OK, great, ten minutes of quiet before the hydraulics or whatever finish resting so they can start in on a new round of pounding, but this time it’s different. There’s no new pounding. I’m thinking, is this it? Can we finally get back to normal?

But then fifteen minutes later somebody started jackhammering. And I thought that the pounding was bad, but after only maybe thirty seconds of jackhammering, I’m already dreaming of the days when the only thing I had to complain about was the pounding. And it’s not really just the noise that bothers me. Although, sure, the noise of a jackhammer is really, really annoying.

It’s something else. It’s a jealousy. Every time I see or hear a jackhammer, I’m always reminded of the fact that I’ve never once used a jackhammer in my entire life, and the more time that goes by, the more unlikely it is that I’ll ever get to use one. I’ll take my dog for a walk past the construction site, there are these thin blue plywood walls around the perimeter, but I can see over them, see through the cracks, and I look at these guys with their hard hats and safety goggles, and I can always tell that whoever is using the jackhammer, it’s like he barely has a grip on what he’s doing.

I should be doing the jackhammer. I think that, and again, I don’t have any real heavy equipment experience, but come on, I’m much taller than everybody else, definitely taller than your average construction worker, and so it’s like, I’ll definitely have more leverage, like I can position my body in such a way as to really maximize the jacking while not having to sacrifice any of the hammering. Most construction guys, I see them standing straight up, holding the jackhammer parallel to their body, and I see in my mind, me, at an angle with the jackhammer, we’re both at an angle, and I’m transferring all of my energy, making a jack-triangle against the earth, maximum jack.

But none of these guys ever take me seriously. One time I walked my dog by the job when the guys were all hanging out taking a coffee break. I was like, hey guys, any way I could get a chance with the jackhammer? And it’s not like they even laughed at me. I mean like, one guy kind of laughed, but everybody else just gave me this kind of annoyed look, barely even taking their eyes off of their coffees and their cigarettes.

I saw a different group in the deli the next day. Guys? But nobody was paying attention to me, everybody just constantly shuffling along the deli aisles, excuse me, coming through, taking all of the good sodas, the best bags of chips, and could I at least order a sandwich? Maybe get a little lunch, please? Hello?

Carpe diem, baby

Go out there and get them. Or get ‘em, I guess. Take the world by storm. Today is your day, so go out and seize it, carpe diem baby, hasta la vista. Make no mistake about it, this is your chance, your opportunity to grab this life by the balls, to sneak up on life from behind with a gun, to point that gun at its head and say, “Don’t move, life, just hand it over.” And then you take it and run.

Don’t send out any resumes. Just show up for work. Find out where you want to be employed, walk straight into that building (it’s got to be early in the day) find out which office is the boss’s office, then march right in there and lock the door behind you. Start going through all of the files, any papers lying around the desk, familiarize yourself with everything, the numbers, the business, and that way when that boss comes to work, when he tries to open the door, but it’s locked, when his keys don’t work because you put a bunch of chewed up gum in the keyhole, (put a bunch of chewed up gum in the keyhole) when he starts acting like a baby and going down to security and demanding that they break down the door, when they finally get it open, look up from your desk, from your papers, pretend like you’re on an important call, no, call up somebody, make that really important call a reality, put your hand over the receiver and act very annoyed and say something like, “What the hell is all of this commotion? Why are you in my office? Security, get rid of this clown! And where’s my secretary? Janice! Get me somebody to clean all of this chewed up gum out of my doorknob!”

And then the boss will probably start screaming, getting all pissed off like, “Me get out of your office? Security!” but by this point you’ll have already made your case, you’ll have seized the day – carpe diem baby! – you’ll sound in charge, you’ll be acting in charge, and look at this boss, standing there like an idiot with his jaw to the floor, “Me get out of your office?” he might repeat to himself, at which point the security guard might also be a little confused, so take advantage of this moment, this opportunity, stand up halfway out of your chair and scream, “Security! Are you going to get rid of this bozo or am I going to have to hire a new security guard to throw the both of you out of my office? and he’ll stammer something like, “Y-y-yes sir, right away sir,” grabbing the real boss by his neck and throwing him, in fact, out of his own office, out of his own building.

Then just fucking own it. As soon as that’s taken care of, get up, slam the door behind you (chew more gum, shove it even further in there) announce loudly to your secretary without looking him or her in the eye, or even so much as facing his or her direction, “Hold all of my calls. I’m taking a long lunch.” Then kind of turn halfway, still not facing anybody in particular, and say, “Somebody give me a company credit card, I lost mine,” count to three, and then scream, “Now!”

Look at that, you seized that day, you just got that job, a promotion even, and an extended lunch break, all rolled into one mega opportunity. Now you have to seize this lunch break, carpe the corporate credit card. Go to a steak place. Walk right in. Pause at the hostess stand, like you’re considering it, the craziness of it all, you, the boss of your own company, like you’re going to stand around like an idiot and have some hostess tell you where to sit, wait for her to open her mouth to say hi. As soon as she makes a sound, march right past her and sit yourself at the biggest table.

When somebody comes over asking you to move to a smaller table, start ordering steaks, medium rare, ten steaks, order some iced teas, keep saying “Extra lemon, extra lemon,” over and over again, when the iced tea comes out, it doesn’t matter how many lemons they give you, ask for even more, tell them you want slices of lemon with absolutely no seeds, not even one seed, and then don’t even touch those lemons, put them on the tablecloth so as to display the fact that you haven’t even considered using them, and come on, iced tea? Don’t drink that iced tea. Ask for a Diet Coke. When they bring it over, knock it to the floor and ask for a regular Coke. When the steaks come, take a bite out of each one, chew half, spit the other half out, send them all back, only leave a seven percent tip, scream at that hostess on your way out that this is no way to run a business, that this is no way to treat your guests, and how dare you look at me like that! You should be ashamed of yourself! Carpe diem baby!

Movie Review: Now You See Me

Iron Man Three, Star Trek, Fast 6, for a while I thought that the summer blockbuster season wasn’t ever going to skip a beat. But then I checked out my options for this week and was reminded that, yeah, if I’m planning on seeing a new release every weekend, I guess I’m going to have an occasional lineup of slim pickings.

And so I almost resigned myself to buying a ticket for Will Smith’s After Earth. I really, really didn’t want to see After Earth. I’ve seen the same way-too-long preview several times, and nothing about it looks interesting. The ship crash-lands. It’s the future. It’s Earth. Will Smith’s in it. Man, remember when Will Smith used to make only good movies? I’m glad I wasn’t writing movie reviews when Men In Black 3 premiered.

But just before I made my post-apocalyptic purchase, Yoda’s voice came alive in my head, “No. There is another.” And sure enough, there was another new release this week, a movie called Now You See Me. Huh. I’d never even heard of this movie. I was about to do a quick Google search to find out the general plot, something that could give me a clue as to what I might be in for, but I decided, fuck it, let’s go in blind.

Now You See Me starts off fast. It’s about four magicians who team up to rob banks, giving the money to the public in a Robin Hood display of vigilante economics. And for the first hour or so, it’s a pretty cool movie. The FBI gets involved and it turns into an old-school New York City heist movie, crazy crime-genre background music and all, something reminiscent of the original The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3.

But shit keeps escalating. Chase scenes give way to fight scenes that give way to car crashes. Instead of even beginning to hint at like a general direction in which the movie might be headed, they just keep on piling on random clues, mysterious characters, a few dead-end leads and even a flimsy romance subplot. After a little while you’re like, what? How? Who is this guy again? Wait, why are they robbing the banks?

And after that first enjoyable hour, the movie spirals out of control. The whole time I was thinking to myself, man, these writers had better have come up with something genius to get to some sort of a resolution, to even begin to answer all of these questions. And yeah, I guess it’s theoretically possible. There are movies out there that weave insane plots together in acts of superhuman storytelling.

But I kept thinking about how it’s so weird that a major movie studio could release a big summer film and not have any marketing campaign at all. Why hadn’t I seen this movie coming? Why weren’t there any previews during any of the other movies I’ve been watching every single week for the past three months?

While I don’t want to be a cynic, while I wanted to hold out hope that maybe they’d be able to yet turn this into a great movie, a moment of realism set in as I deduced that the only reason nobody’s heard about this movie is because maybe it really wouldn’t get any better. Maybe the writers wrote themselves into a corner and couldn’t figure a way out. But you know how big Hollywood is, they already signed Mark Ruffalo, Woody Harrelson. Shooting was to begin in three weeks. If one group of writers couldn’t figure it out, they’d just fire them, get a new group in. Whatever, just write something, just wrap it up boys, we’ve got to get this film debuted by the end of May.

The ending of this movie is just an insult to intelligent life anywhere in the cosmos. I’d equate the making of this movie to the running of a marathon, one in which after twenty-five miles of agony, with only one mile left in sight, everybody just stopped. They just said, eh, whatever, who cares. I’m tired. I don’t feel like running anymore.

And then not only did they stop running, they didn’t even bother walking the rest of the way. They couldn’t manage even a limp to the finish line. In fact, they cheated, they took a cab to the end. Their score was totally disqualified. And then once they got there, they started punching random people in the face, stealing all of the other runners’ medals, knocking over tables of Gatorade for no good reason.

It’s like, what the hell guys, you’re only going to make half of a decent movie? Why bother? Is Morgan Freeman this desperate for work? Is Mark Ruffalo still trying to convince the world he’s a real actor after that ghost movie he made with Reese Witherspoon?

I really am sorry, because I don’t want to be so negative, but Now You See Me is a joke. A stupid, not-funny, fifteen-dollar-a-ticket joke. If you’re on an airplane flying across the country, and the in-flight entertainment system has this movie available to stream, do yourself a favor, just take a nap instead, or just sit up straight and stare at the back of the seat in front of you for two hours or so. Yeah, it might be a little boring, but at least it won’t be as incredibly disappointing.