B(ridge) and T(unnel) Crowd

NOTM – Local Man Makes Like Bradley Cooper in “Limitless”

2012-01-07T21:06:00.001-05:00

Rockville, MD – On a rainy day off from work, Morris Herlis settled into a caramelized onion brown lounge chair at his local coffee shop. He readied himself with a medium cup of caffeine, cream, and caramel syrup that was much too sweet, as the shop’s folksy-blues-reggae music was just loud enough that he couldn’t quite understand the conversation across the room.

“That guy, Bradley Cooper, in the movie Limitless," Morris said having watched the movie alone last night, "he had serious writer’s block, but with a special drug he wrote a novel in three days." He went to his own source to score some writer’s block drugs. And enjoy an egg and cheese croissant. With his laptop plugged in and drugs coursing through his bloodstream, his creative writing outlet was powered.

Bradley Cooper didn't know he was inspiring Morris' epic composition.

"Now I'm ready to do some serious writing," Morris announced. He brushed his fingers on the touch pad and opened a blank canvas. It stared back and Morris froze. The cursor blinking to his ever accelerating heartbeat. The artist in residence shied away, adjusted his jacket, and took off his shoes. “It’s easier to write with proper lumbar support and non-constricted feet,” he noted.

Ergonomically comfortable, Morris took a few bites of his croissant and washed it down with another concentrated drug hit. “Ya ever try counting the number of ceiling tiles in this place? It's dizzying”. He then gazed to the olive green walls with Santa Fe gold accents for inspiration, but an hour after settling into his chair, the screen remained blank.

Of the people in this picture, three of them are distracted from their writing assignments.

“I was just about to get started when a guy asked me to provide security detail for his laptop.” Morris graciously put his writing on hold while a mid-30s man with a shirt from Brooks Brothers and hair suited for the Berkeley Bowl went to the bathroom. "He finally came back two minutes later, but I lost all of my momentum. It’s really difficult to get back in that writing groove I was in before.”

Morris slumped in his chair and titled his head back for clarity. The ceiling tiles were counted again.

Then the drugs started to work. Morris' head whipped down, his eyes widening, and fingers furiously firing. The composition he had waited for spewed out quicker than he could type, "Dear Uncle Felix, Thanks for the gift."

He clicked send and left the coffee shop.

One Way to Help our Struggling Economy

2011-11-13T20:33:00.001-05:00

Out of the mouths of every economist on TV and from the fingers of any financial columnist in town, it sure seems like our economy isn't doing so well these days. I don't understand how our gross domestic product is calculated or the Modigliani–Miller theorem, but financial experts are telling me things are bad so I believe it to be so.

To improve our economy, I think we should look into how our food sources are managed and operated. And by food sources I don't mean the commodities traded in Chicago. I mean the supermarket checkout experience. If we improve our cashiers, we improve Wall Street.

At Safeway last night, I was trying to pay for just four items (humus, a cucumber, and two loaves of bread). I had a choice of six staffed checkout lanes and the self-checkout lanes. The self-checkout lanes averaged three people in line which took them out of the running because few consumers have ever been supermarket cashiers and I wasn't willing to watch someone learn the ropes as I did 15 years ago.

Avoid evil looks of incompetence from people behind you; use a real cashier who knows produce lookup (PLU) numbers.

Of the six staffed lanes, only one was an express lane for 15 items or less, but it had six people waiting. Often, the express cashier is one of the better cashiers, but with six people in line and only two waiting in normal checkout lanes, I went with line quantity over cashier quality. I chose a lane without a full conveyor belt and a full cart waiting to be loaded. I added my items and a minute later, the customer at the front swiped his credit card while the cashier loaded his reusable bags.

At this point I would have been fourth in the express lane at this point.

My cashier began scanning the next family's items, handling them as delicately as you'd expect for a carton of eggs or loaf of bread, but not for the can of Cheez Whiz and box of brownie mix they were buying. Then the mother thought it'd be okay for their two-year-old to hold the plastic container of cherry tomatoes. One squeeze and they were on the floor and took away the cashier's attention. I helped round them up of course; damnit if I'm going to lose to the express line.

After the cashier paused to make funny faces at the baby for a third time, the couple dumped a bunch of coupons on her to scan. After a misunderstanding of the coupon's terms, the cashier bagged the groceries as though they were Faberge eggs. Heaven forbid the brownie mix box has a dent.

At this point I would have been next in the express line.

Why are Safeway's cashiers slow when they're not even trusted to count coins?

Finally it was my turn in line. The loaves of bread and humus scanned easily, but for some reason the cashier took her lazy-swing-in-a-hammock-time punching in PLU 4062 for the cucumber. I swiped my Safeway card, gave her cash, and waited much too long for her to return a 5-dollar bill and bag my four items. Safeway cashiers don't even have to count coins from their drawers which is why this should be so much faster. The express lane cashier was already onto her second person after me had I stayed in her lane.

I know that our country's cashiers can do better with just a little more training and desire. In 1996, I did my best to learn how to work the cash register, deal with personal checks, and remember PLU numbers. I also took pride in packing paper bags with fragile items on top, sound foundations using boxy packages, and the proper weight per bag based on the customer's strength. Perhaps I only took pride in the work because it paid for my Sour Patch Kids' habit.

To save the economy, I propose that Safeway improve its training to make cashiers more efficient. More efficient cashiers encourage customers to shop for more items because of a better front end experience; which leads to more money going to the store; which leads to greater food sales; which increases demand for food industry jobs and production; which gives the food industry workforce disposable income to spend on items in other sectors; which increases jobs and product demand in those sectors and their supporting industries; which leads to a continual increase in spending across the economy.

Or maybe I just won't get those two minutes of my life back waiting to checkout at Safeway.

NOTM: Man's Life Changed 10 Years After College Park Tornado

2011-09-24T07:15:00.001-04:00

Rockville, MD - Ten years ago today, a tornado ravaged College Park and the University of Maryland family. Morris Herlis (MH) was living in his fourth floor apartment at University Courtyard with his roommate when a typical rainstorm came rolling through. They left their rooms to take in the sights of lightning and sounds of thunder from the safety of their balcony.

That's when the rain started flying sideways and the afternoon sky turned dark.

After Morris' roommate found the wind too strong to make it safely down the exterior stairs, they convened at the kitchen island, holding on while their entire building swayed and creaked.

"Oh yeah I was scared. I'm glad I went to the bathroom before the storm or it would've been a mess," Morris said over a 32-ounce blueberry Slurpee. He contacted News of the Minutiae (NOTM) to explain how his life was impacted by the tornado.

Give a man a Slurpee and he'll talk a long time after the brain freeze.

NOTM: What damage did you see after the tornado?

MH: One car was flipped over, another was leaning next to a building. My car's windows were gone and my other roommate's ceiling had a hole in it. Lots of other buildings were messed up. I even had to throw away a gallon of milk.

NOTM: Were you in shock afterward?

MH: Oh yeah, how I viewed my time on this planet was forever altered.

NOTM: Can you tell our readers in what ways?

MH: Well, back then, I had no cell phone. Without that tornado, I may never have bought one.

Imagine a world before you could play Angry Birds.

NOTM: Did the experience cause you to live life differently?

MH: Oh for sure. Nowadays I double-knot my shoes, sleep with two pillows, and clean the dryer lint trap more frequently.

NOTM: How has your life changed in larger, more meaningful ways?

MH: My life these days is full of inane Twitter updates, empty Google alerts, and inconsequential Facebook statuses. It was rough back then, we had none of those.

NOTM: How ever did you survive the change to 2011?

MH: That's what I mean. My life wouldn't have been the same without this tornado. In fact, I no longer use my finger to clean out ear wax; I use cotton swabs.

NOTM: Sounds rough and off-topic. Have you become thankful each day you're alive?

MH: Sure, but only when someone asks me that.

NOTM: Does your level of fear increase when a tornado watch is issued for the DC area?

MH: I take it more seriously, but nowadays I fear losing my iPad, forgetting a 9-iron on the golf course, and fitting into last season's bathing suit.

NOTM: Right. Ok then. Other people volunteer their time after learning how precious it is, but you don't seem to have had such a life affirming experience.

MH: I don't regret it when my day is spent playing PS3 in my boxers, eating Lucky Charms, and drinking root beer. It's a bit cliche when someone says they live every minute to the fullest just because of a life event. Eventually we all regress to lazy Saturdays.

NOTM: So you're saying that bad stuff happens to everyone and it's often out of your control, but what matters is how you deal with it?

MH: Precisely. Like when you run out of body wash and improvise with shampoo.

How to Stay Cool on Metro

2011-07-21T18:06:00.002-04:00

Now that we’re in a three-day cone of thermodynamical torture, here are tips on staying cool while riding Metro. None of these tips will work when you’re on a packed train, but then again, it’s your fault for not waiting all of three minutes for the much emptier train behind it.

1. Stuff your bladder. Guzzle the coldest water you can find before heading into the station to cool your core. If your platform is outside when temperatures are more than 100 degrees and humidity is off the charts, well then, it sucks to be you now doesn’t it?

2. Cannonball run. Find the nearest community pool and do a wicked cannonball splash entry. Now that you’re soaking wet, you’ll be nice and cool for the walk to the station.

Cannonball!!!

3. Find your vents. As indoor stations allow, go as far to the end of the platform as possible and find vents in station sign columns and underneath escalators. The vents should be pumping out cool air. I don’t know if the air is all that clean for your lungs, but it sure feels good. Best of all, broken escalators don’t guarantee broken vents.

4. Gatorade shower. Have two friends follow you around with a Gatorade jug. After you achieve a high score in Angry Birds, have them douse you with it like a football coach. You’ll be sticky, cool, and all sorts of lemon-lime awesome.

Bill Parcells and the 1986 New York Giants knew the secret to sticky coolness.

5. Remain still. While standing next to a vent, it helps if you don’t move. Nothing raises your sweat rate faster than burning calories. Remember, fanning yourself actually makes you warmer...so said “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy”!

6. Find that fire hose. Open valves to the Metro station fire hose and douse yourself. Spray water on everyone else too. Trust me, they’ll appreciate it. The hose should have enough pressure that you don't have to place your thumb on the end to make a stronger stream like your garden hose.

7. Enter the first car. This will be air conditioned because the operator’s in there. The 2nd car may also be an option because Metro cars are air-conditioned in pairs, but that’s assuming a lot about Metro’s mechanical reliability.

8. Freon immunization. Unhook the Freon tubing from the train and start drinking. If Freon keeps cars, trains, and refrigerators cool, just think what it’ll do for your intestines!

When I want to cool down, I drink dichlorodifluoromethane.

9. Find a seat. Save energy and calories by sitting because it’s easier than standing. Surely your feet hurt from sitting in a cubicle all day. If you'll be going above ground, pick seats on the side of the train away from the sun. If there are no seats, then enjoy Metro’s summertime eau de toilette, “Those Without Deodorant”.

9a. Avoid hot thighs. If two seats are open together, grab the aisle seat and remain there until someone else wants to sit. Then take the window seat whose cushion will be cooler because nobody’s thighs were heating it up in the meantime. I might be overthinking this.

9b. Back off. Try sitting forward so that your back isn’t pressed to the cushion. This will give it just a little more space to breathe and sweat itself out. Though, if you’re like me, your back sweats in perpetuity no matter what you do. Anybody invented back antiperspirant yet?

10. Pray. Remember that hell will never be as bad as standing armpit-to-armpit in a Metro train that’s stopped above ground for a schedule adjustment in July and August.

This is hell...stuck in a booth with sweaty Dick Vitale at a duke game.

11. Grab some metal. When you’re in an air-conditioned car with metal handlebars, grab any free handlebar space. The bar should be cool to the touch. Better yet, place the bottom of your wrists or entire forearm along a bar to better cool your blood. It’s biology, trust me, I’m a doctor. Keep touching other bars that feel cool, but be sure to shower in Purell when you get home.

12. Drive. Why are you taking Metro when it’s so freakin’ hot outside?! Instead, drive around in a motorized air conditioned metal box. It won’t be cheaper, better for the environment, easier, or safer, but it’s cool.

NOTM: Man Saves D.C. from Germ Attack

2011-06-15T16:35:00.000-04:00

Smithsonian Metro Stop - There are many things that can kill us. Cancer, heart disease, Metro buses, that piece of gum you swallowed as a kid that's still in your stomach, a ninja pummeling you with nunchucks, and germs. Fortunately, Morris Herlis saved the entire DC metro area from one of these silent killers on Tuesday - during his lunch break.

When it's not a typical DC summer day full of high temperatures and humidity, Morris enjoys a gentle walk on the National Mall. On Tuesday, he was walking by a game of pickup ultimate frisbee that's too serious to be called "pickup", when a gust of pollen passed by.

Snot began to drip down the inside of his nose, but Morris' breathed in, his nostrils filling with air in a vain attempt to keep the snot inside. It was too late. The pollen had opened a faucet of germs begging to get out. Another large intake of air only slowed fate.

Snot drips turn into a snot stream in no time.

"That snot kept on coming and coming. I didn't know my body could make that much stuff. Where was it coming from?" Morris wondered. As much as Morris loved trees for their shade, he despised them for their blossom fornication.

The snot continued to run. Wearing a polo shirt and lacking classy tactfulness to carry tissues, Morris pulled his left forearm, elbow to wrist, along his nose. His reward was a clear sheen coat of aligned hairs.

Morris walked by the Hirshorn Museum toward 12th Street and the Smithsonian Metro station. His snot volcano erupted again. Simple snot rockets would not suffice because there was no solid material to be found in this liquid waterfall. Morris used the only wiping surface he had left and decimated his right forearm hairs in a flood of snot.

Toilet paper, it's not just for wiping yourself anymore.

After another inhale to pull snot back inside, Morris was toast. His body wanted the snot out quickly. With many tourists wandering from one air conditioned museum to the other, the Mall was plenty full. Morris did not want to infect all of them, yet he could not keep up with the cubic centimeters of microbes that just had to rush out of his body.

"The dam in my sinus cavity broke. Nasty stuff and lots of it were on their way out." With a convulsion and jerk of the head, Morris unleashed back-to-back germ torrents destined to infect, annoy, and disgust hundreds of people.

But on this day, Morris did not act the fool. He acted in good conscious of his fellow citizen. He pulled his right arm to his face and sneezed into the space between his forearm and bicep.

Just don't put your arm around someone after.

Though his arm was now engrossed in gross fluids, he saved DC from his germ attack. Proud of his kindness, he entered the Metro station with a bounce in his step, ready to ride back to the office.

He boarded a near empty Metro train that became standing room only just two stops later at Metro Center. There he found himself rubbing shoulders with other passengers and exchanging germs on handrails. A woman's perfume tickled his olfactory system, but he did not have enough space to capture the sneeze carnage in his left arm. Milliseconds after it flew out of him, he felt the weight of other passengers' eyes, glaring at him and his germ containment failure. If only they knew his story.

NOTM: One Man’s Quest for His Last Pair of Collar Stays

2011-05-15T20:56:00.004-04:00

Rockville, MD – Morris Herlis leads a quiet, regimented, and controlled morning existence. His pre-work routine is as regular as he is when he eats bran cereal. He knows where things are, when they will happen, and how they will happen – most of the time.

On Wednesday morning at 5:53, after his one allotted snooze button press, Morris rolled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. He multitasked by shaving his face while emptying his bladder. After showering, Morris brushed his teeth before dressing, lest he risk dripping toothpaste on clean clothes. He is ruthlessly efficient and cautious.

Morris is sly enough to avoid making his shirt match his toothpaste.

With temperatures in the 70s, Morris decided that he wouldn't sweat so much that his blue long-sleeved, button-down shirt would require a visit to the dry cleaners before the next wearing. Feeling confident in his unironed and only semi-wrinkled khakis, Morris had his outfit ready.

Morris demonstrated his wealth of clothing procedural knowledge by deftly placing one leg in his pants and then the other without falling over. Able to zip his fly without catching any of himself in its teeth, he buttoned his pants before directing his black (p)leather belt through the specially designed loops around his waist and buckled it snuggly.

This almost makes getting dressed to go to work seem like fun.

Thanks to many Sesame Street lessons on how to button buttons, Morris closed his shirt, thereby saving the world from viewing his gangly mess of chest hair. He went to lower his collar when he realized they didn't have collar stays. Morris went to his jewelry box with its cuff links and watches, but didn’t find any collar stays there.

“I don’t know how my collar will stay down without those plastic wonder pieces,” Morris lamented. Indeed without collar stays, the tip of his collar would find its way to point up. Morris’ line of work demands a proper collar fixture.

Morris looked in his nightstand with its reading glasses, ear plugs, and athlete’s foot spray, but it was to no avail. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. He frantically tore through a pile of shirts destined to the dry cleaner and checked their collars only to find them empty.

Anyone serious about collar stays keeps them in a secure case.

Morris’ calculated morning routine schedule does not allow for slippage. When all goes according to plan, he’s out the door by 6:40, but it was already 6:45. With desperation in his voice, Morris said, “five minutes late already! I don’t wanna be stuck with the bus people again!”

Morris checked the laundry room floor, the catch-all drawer in the kitchen, and his suitcase toiletry bag. It was 6:48 and Morris had searched everywhere and found nothing. He was now assured a Metro ride with the bus people which meant getting a seat would be more difficult. Also, Morris is pretty sure he is allergic to them.

To clear his mind, Morris went about getting his shoes, socks, and bag ready. Next, he went to the bathroom and put a glob of L.A. Looks styling gel in his hands. He looked at the mirror to style his hornet’s nest hair when he saw something – his shirt also had buttons near the tips for collar stays. His collar would be securely unpopped after all! Morris cracked a smile despite running an ungodly 12 minutes late.

He grabbed the edge of his left collar and began buttoning it except he hadn't washed his hands. The collar was no longer white, but electric blue from the L.A. Looks gel smooshed into the threads. Morris would have to start the process again. Collapsing to his knees, Morris’ shirt was done and so was he.

NOTM: Man Eats Mysterious Food Off Floor and Lives

2011-04-22T17:17:00.000-04:00

Rockville, MD - Morris Herlis was hungry, parched, and nearing death last night. It was 11:30 and his last meal, some four hours earlier, consisted of two Hot Pockets and a bowl of Frosted Flakes. He needed energy if he wanted to win his online deathmatch in the videogame, Battlefield Bad Company 2, on his Playstation 3. Morris was an entire flight of stairs away from the kitchen, but he might as well have been miles away.

Morris knew that firing a Russian RPG-7 85mm anti-tank grenade launcher demanded high levels of Frosted Flakes.

Fueled by the unrecognizable ingredients that combine to make a Hot Pocket, mixed with the sugar rush of Frosted Flakes, Morris was transfixed to his TV for hours without interruption. A marathon performance to make whatever an ultra marathoner would envy. His reflects were quick that night. His pupils were fully dilated. He was unstoppable.

"Man, I was in the zone," Morris said. "I had maximum concentration. I only saw the TV and nothin' else." Morris' supreme tunnel vision and concentration allowed him to "shoot those online punks" for all of the glory that comes from playing a videogame late at night, alone, in your underwear.

According to various reports, consisting of Morris telling his story to NOTM multiple times, his sugar rush began crashing at 11:15. He maintained a moderate attention level for another ten minutes thanks to the water retention that comes from 1,620 mg of sodium in two "cheeseburger" Hot Pockets.

Giving you the power to play videogames for hours and the sodium to retain gallons of water.

"I was really starting to hit the wall by 11:25, but my squadmates needed me to capture the flag." Morris' game would last another ten minutes, but his sugar level was falling quickly from oversaturated early onset diabetes to merely normal. He was fading and legitimate resources seemed unattainable.

"Then I remembered survival skills I learned on 'Man vs. Wild' with Bear Grylls. Something about feeling around your surroundings for anything edible." Morris patted the floor below the sofa for nutrients. In a miracle that would make Moses proud, he found pretzel rods and an oatmeal raisin cookie from a Super Bowl party three months ago.

Bear Grylls eats real food in the wild like raw fish, not sofa crumbs.

Determined to finish his videoggame and not leave the sofa, Morris rammed the stale pretzels in his mouth, finding them "slightly chewy and soft". To counter the saltiness, Morris had no choice other than to eat the sweet oatmeal raisin cookie, noting that it was covered in unidentified "bits of something" with hints of belly lint.

"When you're in the wild, normalcy goes out the window," Morris said. Apparently, so does rational thought, self respect, and healthy eating habits.

Infused with a home-brewed mixture of under-the-sofa, salty and sweet calories, Morris finished playing his game for another few minutes before peeling himself off the cushions. From there he went to bed with little to relish in having lost tonight's deathmatch and all levels of decency.

NOTM: Metro Rider Avoids Giving Seat to "Undeserving" Elderly Woman

2011-03-08T16:39:00.001-05:00

Rockville, MD - Rush hour Metro rides can be hellacious. Long commutes without sitting are torturous. And not giving up a seat to an elderly woman is obnoxious. Morris Herlis' was obnoxious to avoid the torture of a hellacious ride this morning and NOTM was there.

Morris rides the red line from Shady Grove to downtown D.C. every weekday morning. "I hate getting on a train after 7 [am] 'cause you have to deal with the 'bus people'." The Shady Grove station is an important bus terminal for Montgomery County. "They go to the turnstiles as one mass of humanity and I have no shot at a seat. Such arrogance." Morris' claim that they smell, get caught in doors, and are "lame" were unfounded by NOTM.

"If I'm really running late and catch a train around 8 [am], I not only deal with a greater concentration of bus people, but also the older folks who don't move quickly." Morris, not one to shy from ageism, is not a fan of any demographic other than the one he's in.

Morris doesn't discriminate. Bus people of all kinds are obstacles to his Metro ride.

When NOTM caught up with Morris this morning, he was on the train at 8:17. Having ran through the tunnel to beat the latest wave of bus people up the escalators, he grabbed the last empty seat - a seat for the disabled and elderly when necessary. He sat next to a man in a full leg cast and across from a blind woman and a man with a walking cane.

Morris read his Washington Post Express without issue until the White Flint stop. It was there that 78-year-old Beth Steinkatz, one month removed from her second broken hip surgery in the last year, boarded the train. Unable to maneuver herself into one of the row seats many had offered her, she assumed the least disabled and elderly rider sitting in the four special seats would offer her a place to rest.

Never one to be kind, generous, and charitable, Morris buried his head in the newspaper. "The moment I saw granny weeble-wobbling her way aboard, I kept reading. I kept my eyes low enough because keeping my seat mattered."

This is a NOTM reenactment of Ms. Steinkatz and her cane if she was a he.

Ms. Steinkatz continued staring down Morris, but to no avail. Pleas from passengers to "standup and don't be a douche" and "stop being a jerk, we know you hear us" had no effect. Ms. Steinkatz had no choice, but to stand the rest of the way.

Finally, Morris neared his stop, well rested to be sure, and got into position for his station. "I'm at the door one station before mine so I can easily beat the bus people and everyone else out to my station's exit. Nobody wants to be behind the stench of those weirdos."

The door opening chime rang as Morris stood by the door. Ms. Steinkatz took her cane and jammed it into his back, not-ever-so politely pushing him out the door - one stop early. Amid clapping and cheers, she took Morris' seat and waved goodbye to him and his sullen face on the platform.

How to be Romantic on D.C.'s Metro

2011-02-12T16:32:00.009-05:00

Let's say you're a regular Metro commuter on your way home this Monday when you realize that it's Valentine's Day and you have nothing for your significant other (SO). Here are some tried-and-true options that are all around you.

Go retro with anti-E-readers. Anyone can buy a Kindle or iPad for a SO, but you're better than that; you're not a lemming. So go retro by bringing home a copy of the Washington Post Express and Washington Examiner. If your SO's a newshound and has a political lean, only bring one of them home lest you want another fight with your SO.

Soon an entire generation won't know which came first.

Create a tapas dinner. Though Metro's no food or drink policy has been around a long time, that shouldn't stop you from providing a grand tapas meal. Go on and grab the partially opened bag of Doritos on the window pane, the box of Sour Patch Kids from the floor, and the other half of that Otis Spunkmeyer chocolate chip cookie. If you're lucky, you might find some McDonald's chicken nuggets at the top of the escalator on your way out. Your SO would appreciate them even more if they're still in the box. Don't forget to wash things down with the almost empty bottle of Mountain Dew rolling down the aisle.

Grab a seat toward the back for optimal drink and food opportunities.

Provide chauffeur limousine service. If your SO is always asking for rides to and from the station, around town, or to the airport, grab some bus schedule pamphlets. They're great reading material after the retro E-readers and your SO won't have to bum rides off of you. When asked if you can give a ride to BWI, just say, "there's a bus route for that". If the SO is a world traveler, grab some MARC train schedules too. It's the gift that keeps on giving (you back your free time). SOs everywhere will be driven where they want, sort of when they want, and in vehicles that they may confuse for limousines if they're hallucinating.

Imply you want a future together. Near the bus pamphlets, grab a flyer warning you of future Metro repair delays and escalator outages. Earn bonus points by bringing home road construction public meeting notices too. These show that you're thinking about the future with your SO; at least how it'll impact your commutes. Nobody appreciates foresight and long-term relationship planning more than your SO.

Create a homemade romantic card. In this age of Twitter, you must be brief with your words. Pickup a Metro card from the ground and write something sweet on it using 15 characters or less depending on your handwriting size. "I love you" is only 10 characters, but "I don't care about our relationship enough to remember this day" is just too long and honest. Don't have a pen? Borrow one from the station manager or grab one from just below the third rail; I've heard there are some great Montblancs down there.

No SO can be upset when your card is covered with pandas.

Listen to live music - Plan A. Take your SO on a Metro ride around 9 am on a weekday, staying between Metro Center and Gallery Place. This ensures you'll overhear music playing on several incessantly loud iPods. If you don't like the genre, move to another car until you find one that sets the romantic mood. Keep changing trains to keep the musical jackpot surprises coming.

Listen to live music - Plan B. If your SO is picking you up from the station, have them park the car and walk back to the station entrance to take in the local and live music scene. Undoubtedly, you won't find great musicians, but you might find the 5% that are bearable. If anything, you'll be hip to the area's up and coming guitarists, paint bucket drummers, and Peruvian flutists.

Buy a $5 bouquet of flowers. Flowers are a great sign that you care, even the wilted ones from the flowerseller outside the station. At $5 for a bouquet, you'll get credit for caring and being fiscally responsible by not buying from a local florist whose flowers are needlessly arranged well, tasteful, and better still - alive.

Bring home this Diego Rivera painting called "The Flower Seller" and you'll really make your SO happy.

Take the SO to an amusement park. If you follow Plan A to Listen to Live Music, remind your SO that a Metro ride doubles as a rollercoaster. Make sure you're both standing up and see who gets sick last from a herky-jerky manually automated ride. Maybe you want to impress by not grabbing a handle for balance - how athletic! It's a fun experience that's all included in the price of admission.

Just remember Valentine's day next year. If these don't match your SO's lofty expectations, then remind them that it's better than last year's gift - a jar of belly lint.

How to Install an Auxiliary Input (aPAC-NIS1) In a 2005 Nissan Altima

2011-01-31T15:33:00.002-05:00

After installing my home speaker system last year, I decided that my 2005 Nissan Altima, called Silverman, needed an auxiliary input. I was tired of using my GPS' FM transmitter to listen to MP3s through my car's speakers and burning CDs is just sooooo passe. As a black belt master Googler, I scoured the web and bought an aPAC-NIS1 Aux Input.

There's just one problem...I've never stolen a car radio before. In this case, I'd just be modifying my radio, but how's it done? Turns out, all you need is a Phillips screwdriver, a willingness to bend dashboard molding, and the realization that the product's instruction writers should be fired. My chop shop resume is just beginning.

The aux input instructions in the package and online were awful. The writing (much like this blog!) was unintelligible so I got help from an engineer with advanced degrees. It's not that hard for Pacific Accessory Corporation (PAC) (or Pac-Audio) to hire a technical writer. Email me and I'll help.

One box, lots of wires, and the world's greatest fat-fingered hand model.

For one, please include a chart that tells me which DIP switches should be up instead of having me call your support line. Using a combination of Nissan forums searches, radio wiring diagrams, competitor instructions, and finally trial and error, Silverman now plays music, GPS directions, and cell phone chatter through its speakers, accepting any device with a headphone jack.

To help the greater good and fill a void in the Internet, allow me to help those in need of better instructions. Aux input inputters of the world, who are installing the same product in a 2005 Nissan Altima with a 6-CD Bose radio, let me guide you as we overcome aPAC-NIS1's disastrous instructions.

Sure, I could've paid $50 for someone to install it, but where's the fun in that when I got to be frustrated installing this device for several hours over two days. With some luck, it'll take you about an hour. Merchants selling the product offer instructions that contradict each other so while one method may be better, safer, and faster than mine, this one worked for me. In other words, it's completely your fault for following these and short-circuiting your car.

Step 1 - Disconnect the negative terminal from the car battery. As cool as it is to have your hair stick up from electricity, the rest of your nervous system won't like it much, along with your heart. My battery terminal was tough to remove so be ready for some elbow grease. We held the wire away from any metal with the wrench's rubber handle. Electricity likes metals so keep'em away like the two hormone-fueled teenagers they are.

Step 2 - look at your dash one last time and say a prayer. It's time to go in. Make sure your door is open in case you have to be hauled out of the car and let someone know what you're up to. Note that this device only works on an Altima radio with a satellite ("SAT") button.

Step 3 - pull the HVAC molding down and away from the dash. Do this gently. You'll need to bend the molding just enough to get your fingers behind it. Wow, this hand model actually has two beautiful hands!

Step 4 - remove the four screws holding the HVAC controls with a screwdriver. Unscrew the screws slowly and be sure you catch them as they come out. I kept them in my door pocket.

Step 5 - pull off HVAC controls by pulling the unit out from the bottom and then down. What glorious wiring to behold.

Step 6 - gently lift the molding for the vents from just below the radio controls. This is held in place by four clips so you will have to carefully pop it off of the clips. This can be very fickle so take your time. You may have to wiggle it and use a flat tool to pry it off.

Step 7 - remove the four screws that hold the radio in place. These are difficult to catch and not lose when they come out. I used my finger to keep the screw in place, but it didn't always work as I lost one of them into the abyss known as my car's innards.

Step 8 - Pull the radio out. You're almost halfway done. Well not really, just one-third.

Step 9 - look at the pretty wire colors one final time before adding even more complications.

Step 10 - disconnect the connection on the far left of the radio and the connection second from the right (when looking from above). These connections can be difficult to remove and may require a tool to push the little knob down and away to unlatch the plastic molding from the radio. As tempting as it is, do not pull the connections using their wires. A second set of hands is really handy here (ha!).

In addition to incomplete dashboard removal instructions, the instructions that came with the device and those on the web offered zero help in knowing which connections to remove from the radio. That's why I'm writing this very long blog entry that may not help anyone.

Step 11 - as part of the necessary trial and error, the radio eventually had all of its wires removed. So for your edification, here it is from the back, but don't actually remove all of the wires.

Step 12 - connect the audio cable (3.5 mm cable/RCA), used to input the headphone, to the aux input's blue box. For once, a picture isn't needed, right? Good, because I didn't take one.

Step 13 - connect the aux input's bound of wires to the radio using the only two connections that will fit and match the open radio ports. The connections will snap into place.

Step 14 - run the other end of the aux input's bound of wires down from the radio to behind the cubby that's below the HVAC controls. This is tricky and requires some maneuvering and small fingers. There's a small opening between where the HVAC controls are and the cubby that pops open below. The circled connection disappears behind the cubby in the second picture and may require pulling it down from the cubby too. Ultimately the wire will come out the cubby (see Step 24).

Again, nowhere is it discussed what you should do with the aux input wires so let this be that somewhere it is discussed.

Step 15 - set the aux input's blue box DIP switches to: 1 - down, 2 - up, 3 - up, and 4 - down. I had to call PAC Audio's support line for this. Heaven forbid a chart for all makes and models would be included.

Step 16 - connect the circled connection in picture 1 of step 14 to the aux input's blue box and pull a decent amount of wiring into the cubby. The cubby will store the blue box and your audio input device when used. So convenient!

Step 17 - place the radio back onto its holder in the dash (reverse step 8).

Step 18 - reconnect the battery's negative terminal (reverse step 1); you should hear the radio's CD changer cycle. Some instructions suggested waiting three minutes with the key turned to the "Acc" position before moving to Step 19, but I don't think it matters.

Step 19 - turn the ignition switch to "Acc", turn the radio on, and press the "SAT" button...what do you see on the display? If you see "NO SAT" then that's not good. If you see something like "AUX-01" or "XM CH-001", then it worked! Go ahead and plug an audio device to the aux input to hear something. You may have to turn up the device's volume and the radio's volume. Let's pretend these steps worked so we can move forward.

Step 20 - screw the radio back to the dash harness (reverse step 7). Try to keep all wires down and away from the HVAC system as possible.

Step 21 - place the HVAC vents back into place on the dash (reverse step 6). It should wedge its way back to the original position.

Step 22 - place and screw the HVAC controls back into place (reverse step 5 and then step 4). Good thing you haven't lost the screws, right?

Step 23 - replace the the HVAC molding (reverse step 3). It will snap back into place ever so gently.

Step 24 - take a deep breath, pat yourself on the back, and revel in the awesomeness of your Altima's auxiliary input. Now I can run my MP3 player through the car's speakers or my MP3/bluetooth-enabled GPS. Better yet, both can be connected at the same time, just switching input choices to hear one or the other. Solid!

My Fingernail, I Hardly Knew Ye

2011-01-17T22:15:00.004-05:00

"The biopsy came back negative."

Five days after my nail bed biopsy, the hand surgeon gave me the great news. I only had a bruise on my nail bed; a stubborn, stubborn bruise that thought it'd be fun to leave a streak in my fingernail and cause me to learn far too much about subungual melanoma. Thanks to a solid family history of cancer, I had to be vigilant and proactive. Ignoring health concerns do not heal them.

I learned quite a few things from this experience. For one, I don't know how to put on a woman's dress. The nurse told me my patient gown is "simply put on with the tie in the back as you would with a woman's dress". When she returned to tie the gown, I had it on backward. For the nurse's sake, I made sure the ties were double-knotted so I had no chance of giving the staff an IV-fueled burlesque show with a twirl.

I learned that the best nurses are from New Jersey, right mom? My surgical nurse and I bonded over tales of northern NJ diners, accents, and Turnpike traffic.

I learned that telling the anesthesiologist that redheads require a higher dose ensures that I'll be knocked out really well. A few seconds after I felt the anesthesia in the IV, the operating room ceiling faded to black. When I awoke 20 minutes later, I was in a different bed, with sheets wrapped around me, and I couldn't feel three of my fingers for at least another hour. I'd much rather have it that way.

I learned that hospital beds aren't long enough for me. Like every sleeping camp bunk bed, my feet dangled over the edge. If there are going to be wider wheelchairs for overweight patients, there should be longer beds for taller patients. Equal rights for above average height!

I learned that Holy Cross Hospital gives patients great socks for surgery. They kept my feet warm and gave me great traction.

I learned one way to get a turkey sandwich at the hospital is to have staff use a blood pressure cuff that's too large for my arm resulting in a low reading. Hello lunch in a box! A quick resizing showed my numbers were plenty normal, but not before I got to stuff my face for the first time that day.

I learned that when a surgeon goes to tell your girlfriend his preliminary observation that I don't have melanoma, she shouldn't be left in "The Grief Room" for more than a nanosecond until he arrives. When other rooms are full, as was the case here, just wait a few minutes until the, "Nothing to Worry About Room" is available.

I learned that my body definitely gets nauseous from anesthesia. Hello lunch in a box, not so nice to see you again! I was so nauseous that I wasn't able to eat the matzoh ball soup and homemade kugel waiting for me at home. It pained me to wait one whole day before taking in those calories.

I learned that codeine is wonderful no matter its one-day side effects.

I learned that having a fingernail and part of your nail bed removed makes for a gnarly story.

I also learned that my fingernail will grow back to the fingertip in four months and will look healthy again in 9-12 months. That's a small aesthetic price to pay for peace of mind.

The Slippery Slope of Fingernail Discoloration

2011-01-05T15:49:00.002-05:00

Slopes can be slippery. The more that's at stake, the steeper the decline, and the easier it is to get going. I tend to not do well with hills like these. When I was 12, I broke my wrist skateboarding by going up a street that was too high for my balance. My mom encouraged me to "go just a little higher." I wasn't comfortable and the speed caught me.

Today's skateboarding street is my fingernail to be biopsied for melanoma tomorrow. A few months ago I noticed a brownish-reddish streak on my left ring fingernail and thought it was a bruise that would grow out as the nail did; however, the bruise didn't grow out.

Being redhaired and fair skinned, the sun has never been my friend; I've always thought it held too much power over our lives. I slather on sunscreen, wear a sunhat better suited for a trek in the Mojave, and find shade whenever possible. Thanks to my skin type and my skateboard coach's early stage melanoma that was removed recently, the dermatologist suggested I see a hand surgeon for a biopsy. The hand surgeon quickly reached the same conclusion...a nail bed biopsy was needed just to be safe.

A nail bed biopsy involves removing the fingernail as deep as the nail bed. I think of myself as a reformed nailbiter so as much as I used to have a fondness for chomping down, neither me nor any nailbiter would ever want to go as far as this surgery calls for. The nail should grow to the fingertip in four months, but it will take about a year for it to look healthy again.

The surgeon said it was difficult to place a percentage on a diagnosis, but if pressed he said there was a 10% or less chance that the streak is the result of cancerous cells. He said it could simply be from trauma to the nail for example. Let's hope I somehow forgot that I smashed my fingernail in a doorjamb some time ago. I'm not concerned about the procedure or care afterward, I'm concerned about the diagnosis.

I don't know why I have this streak and I don't t like waiting to find out. Can I just skip ahead like I'm watching something on TiVo? Waiting gives me time to overthink the worst case scenario. As such, waiting also gives me time to underthink the greater likelihood that this won't be a significant concern.

I'm always quick to remind friends and family to not research medical concerns online, but nobody was faster to Google "subungal melanoma" than me. From medical sites to message forums, I read horror stories of people passing away from ignoring their nails that were far more hideously discolored than mine to uplifting stories of people getting checked out and being just fine. I know the information is misleading and only populates my head with unnecessary fears, but I need some control; however unattainable it may be.

Nail bed melanoma is very rare in whites, making up less than 3% of all melanoma cases, and is commonly found on a big toe or thumb. So I have that in my favor, but my skin type and family history make it an easy call to be safe than sorry. The common treatment for a toe with this is amputation and for a finger is amputation at the nearest joint to the lesion. Damn the information online! My mind gets to race between an inconsequential, benign issue in my nail bed to not getting to see the tip of my finger again.

I know that thinking through any scenario does me little good. It won't change what is occurring with my finger. I try to stop myself from thinking the worst, but it's hard not to. I think all of us naturally jump to the extreme result to feel prepared and feign having control, but really we don't know how we'll feel when we hear for sure.

Whatever the doctor tells me is the next step for treatment, I'll welcome it worth open arms (errrr, fingers) because as my mind races ahead, the alternative would be worse. I see no reason why I shouldn't use the slippery slope's momentum to boost me up the ensuing uphill climb.

So I bid adieu to the fingernail on Thursday and wait for what's sure to be an agonizing five days to hear the diagnosis on Tuesday. I hope that my hill levels off and coasts to a stop.

*****************

For the diagnosis, see the next entry here.

My Eardrums Don't Like Movie Theaters

2011-01-02T09:07:00.001-05:00

I'm not old. I'm a sprite 30-year-old male afterall. Just one who never attended rock concerts; pumped up the volume on speakers, headphones, or alarm clock radios; or enjoyed ringing ears from tone deaf bar and bat mitzvah/roller rink/wedding DJs. After a visit to the movies on Saturday, I've learned that the rest of the industrialized world can't hear as well as me and I'm just going to suffer through it.

These sound effects are pleasing to my ears.

Last weekend, me and QP watched "Black Swan" at the Rio's AMC theater. Among the multitude of previews was one for an action movie full of explosions and wooshes and empty of plot or sense. Sitting in the theater's prime center seats, we were excited for perfect stereo audio. That excitement vanished when ads for the concessions stopped and the previews started.

"In a world overrun by movie studios trying to compete with B and T Crowd's awesome 5.1 stereo surround sound-HD-TiVo-PS3-Blu-ray system, was a blogger named B and T Crowd and his girlfriend named QP. They thought a rare visit to a public theater would be enjoyable for all of their senses, but no one could predict the auditory consequences of the blogger's endearing, romantic, and well-meaning dinner and movie date night."

Boom! Rrrruuuuummmmmbbbblllle! ZZZeeeerrrrrrummm! Ting! Berrrrrrrcchhhhhkkkk! Oh my bleeding eardrums from 2:00 forward!

My eardrums didn't appreciate the decibels and bass used for the explosions, bullets, and music. I get it; it's an action movie, the CGI scenes are exciting, and fighting a war against creatures from another world would be loud, but it doesn't have to be that loud. I covered my ears and still heard the sound effects fine, just without the pain and suffering.

QP asked why the previews were so loud. I said it's like TV commercials that are louder to grab your attention (at least until the Commercial Advertisement Loudness Mitigation Act is signed), but it'll go down to a reasonable level when the movie starts. How could it stay this loud for an entire movie?

QP thinks I have super sensitive ears and hear more than most, but then why don't I listen to her? Ba-dum-bum!

The volume didn't decrease, but fortunately "Black Swan" didn't rely on the sounds of explosions, missiles, and car chases; instead using lots of classical music. There were still a few sounds that my ears didn't appreciate, but a few moments of discomfort weren't long enough to make us walk out.

In 2011, I resolve to not view another loud movie in a public theater again. Instead, I'll add it to my Netflix queue and watch it at home. I'm old enough to enjoy to it just how I want without ear plugs.

Engage The Traffic and Crosswalk Sensors Already!

2010-12-20T16:15:00.002-05:00

It's a good thing that I don't drive to work these days so I can avoid experiencing one of the most retched, heinous, and impeding pet peeves known to vehicular traffic - drivers not pulling their cars up to traffic signal sensors. If only I didn't also walk to the Metro instead and experience the equally disturbing unpushed crosswalk button plague, life would be good.

It's really easy; just drive to the white line as seen in every intersection drawing ever made.

If you, car in position #1, typically want a traffic light to change sooner, then you must drive over the traffic light's sensor lines in the asphalt (unless it's an old fashioned light that just uses a timer). There's no need to be a few car lengths away from the stop line. Just stop your car before the stop line and in the sensor's area and we'll get along just fine. It is in this magic pavement position (MPP) that cars are failing to enter and failing to help traffic move.

There are several types of traffic light sensors, from laser detection, to hoses filled with air, to wire induction (the most common). You can tell an inductive loop sensor when you see a rectangle line in the asphalt just in front of a traffic light's stop line. When a car rolls over wires in the asphalt, it increases the induction of the circuit below. This difference in induction alerts the traffic light that its cycle should change to accommodate a car. None of which happens outside of the MPP.

Just make it to this MPP and we'll get moving in no time!

I simply want to be as efficient as possible when I'm on the go. I don't think of myself as a terribly aggressive driver (who does?), but if people are preventing me from moving efficiently, they need to know the error of their ways. Just pull forward so I can get going. If you drive forward just a few feet, all of us waiting in the left-turn lane will get to our destinations faster. And guess what...so will you. Engage the giver light!

I can only guess that drivers do not pull up to the line because they fear being rear-ended and even pushed into pedestrians. With some luck, you have your foot on the brake and won't lurch too far because the driver behind should not be moving terribly fast either. Just don't pull into my crosswalk. A car lurching forward yields the following mathematical proof: vehicular inertia + my femur at bumper level = pain and crutches for me.

Just your usual 13-light signal in Germany.

My unnecessary need to travel efficiently continues when I'm walking in the crosswalk. Why is it that so many people don't hit the pedestrian button at a crosswalk? If it's fear of germs, then the person should also be wearing a mask for the car fumes and a bodysuit to save their skin from the air. Just use your winter gloves or your elbow or just about anything. I don't care. Just hit the button. There's no other way tell the traffic lights that we're waiting to cross.

It's not as though you can miss the button. It's at waist level, often accompanied by a sign imploring you to press it. What else do you have to do while standing there looking at traffic? Pedestrian buttons are not new and are really easy to use. Just press the only button on the pole and soon we'll have the right-of-way. It's that easy! Even you, button unpusher, can't mess it up.

Pretty tough to press it just once, right?

I won't be insulted if you pressed a button that I just pressed a minute ago. I'd rather you double-check my work than to have us not cross the street at all. In fact, some crosswalk buttons have lights above them to tell you that they've been pressed. With a light above the button, we no longer fear insulting the person standing there by pressing the button; now we know whether or not the person is oblivious to travel fluidity.

It's simple. Light on, button was pressed. Light off, press the damn button! Finally, crosswalk button technology has advanced to that of the elevator button. And if all this time the crosswalk button is fake, I'll continue pressing it out of stubbornness and blind faith that one day it'll make a difference.

One way to get the universe rebooted and safely cross an intersection.

So move your car up to the line to tell the traffic signal that your car is there and press the crosswalk button to tell the traffic signal that you're standing there. Use the people movement technology available to us and we'll get where we're going efficiently. Together.

McRib Taste Test - I'm Not Lovin' It

2010-11-12T09:42:00.008-05:00

"OMG! The McRib is back!"

"Gotta get my McRib on...it's the best!"

"Must....eat....McRib...before...gone."

I've read far too many Facebook posts about the wondrous taste of the McDonald's McRib sandwich in the last week. I've never tried one, figuring it could never match the hype. It's not like it would become my favorite McD's meal, topping my two cheeseburger extra value meal with sweet and sour sauce for dipping french fries, right? I don't see how a patty of mystery ingredients pressed into a pork rib shape and covered in BBQ could elicit such outspokenness from college educated adults on my news feed.

Never one to turn away from digestible curiosity and family pressure, I took the plunge to find out for myself. $3 to $4 later the McRib was mine. I made sure to order my go-to extra value meal as a backup just in case this 450-calorie, 890-mg of sodium(!) godsend chock full of 24 grams of fat didn't make my mouth water. What better way to undo the exercise I enjoyed and calories I burned than a McDonald's dinner.

Let's begin with what techie fanboys call, unboxing the goods.

Nothing says temptation like "TANGY TEMPTATION" IN ALL CAPS.

I quickly learned that some of the sandwich's charm is its messiness. I should've asked for it to be sliced in half my way. Oh, that's Burger King's tagline.

Nothing like an uninspiring first impression. Just a bun with BBQ sauce and the mystery "meat".

Bite #1 was just okay. The meat had little pork-like flavor, the BBQ sauce was good and sweet, but nothing worthy of fanaticism. The bread was dry, but who eats anything from McDonald's for the bread?

Oh, so there really are onions and maybe two pickle slices in there somewhere.

Halfway through the McRib and I was finished. There was no discernible flavor to the meat, the BBQ sauce was too sweet after a few bites, and as usual for a McD's sandwich there were far too few pickle slices. The McRib failed its test.

McDonald's knows you give your customers what they want, even if it's to offer a bland sandwich every few years.

When the McRib isn't widely available again after this month, remember that I chose to throw half of mine away. Like anything hyped beyond belief, the McRib is nothing special. My two cheeseburgers with french fries in sweet and sour sauce never tasted so good.

If you want a sandwich that matches the hype, go for a Wendy's spicy chicken sandwich combo with a frosty. Add some McD's fries with sweet and sour sauce and you're good to go. Even better, it's always available. OMG! THIS IS THE BEST FAST FOOD SANDWICH EVER!

NOTM: Man Microwaves Perfect Bowl of Oatmeal

2010-11-07T22:25:00.000-05:00

Washington, D.C. - The scientific method of trial and error has lead to a new wave of federal grants to study the relationship between thermodynamics, fluid mechanics, and whole grain oats. On Tuesday morning, Morris Herlis microwaved the perfect bowl of Quaker Instant Oatmeal for his breakfast at work.

Offering six grams of fiber and assorted whole grain oat ingredients including: pyridoxine hydrochloride, acesulfame potassium, and maltodextrin.

Morris said that he had been experimenting with water content, bowl structure, and microwave time for several months. He worked tirelessly to find the best way to cook a bowl of oatmeal without making a mess in the company microwave, lest he hear from senior marketing specialist Beth Steinkatz who Morris called, "the kitchen cleanliness police chief".

"I don't really know what I did to cook my oatmeal for two minutes straight without spilling over the bowl's edge," Morris said humbly. What is clear is that Morris reduced the amount of water used to an amount between too much and too little, used a deeper Crate and Barrel Roulette Blue Band Bowl, and got very lucky.

The bowl that cooked a perfect packet of maple and brown sugar instant oatmeal.

An underachieving overthinker, Morris spent each morning trying different combinations to cook his Weight Control oatmeal pouches. Unable to grasp the concept of recording each test's settings to fine tune the next day's controls, every cooking event was an absolute shot in the dark to not spill. Like stumbling upon a wad of 100-dollar bills, Morris has not been able to cook a clean bowl of oatmeal since.

"Each morning I shake all of those oats and powder into my bowl, run it under the water cooler, and toss it into the microwave for two minutes," Morris said. "I use the light inside the microwave to watch the oatmeal bubble. Sometimes I act too late to stop some slop from going over the edge, but I clean it up at least. I always get blamed for a messy microwave even though it's impossible for oatmeal to shoot up to the ceiling and look like tomato sauce."

Looks like somebody forgot to put a paper towel on that Lean Cuisine.

A newly self-minted expert on heat conduction and dispersion, Morris said heat transfer journals and books increased his understanding of the forces at work. "Anyone with half a brain knows that Welty, Wicks, and Wilson were talking about my oatmeal's properties in 'Fundamentals of Momentum, Heat and Mass Transfer.' NOTM pressed Morris for further explanation.

"They claimed that 'A fluid is defined as a substance that deforms continuously under the action of sheer stress' which I also observed when I added too much water," Morris said. "My oatmeal is the best example of compressibility's effects yet. Those guys should have used my workday breakfast to better relate to a bunch of college kids." Morris claimed he has read more than the free preview pages on Amazon.com, but NOTM has no reason to believe him.

Somewhere, someone understands how this graph of thermodynamics applies to a bowl of microwaved oatmeal; and it's not Morris Herlis.

The key to observing a bowl of microwaved oatmeal, Morris said, is to keep the kitchen lights off so the microwave light is not washed out. Using this revolutionary method, Morris observed that his oatmeal had, in fact, survived 120 consecutive seconds without spillage. He jumped in the air and pumped his fist. Unfortunately, no co-workers were in yet so they could not celebrate with him as Morris undoubtedly thinks would have happened.

Morris opened the door and grabbed his steaming bowl without his trusty heat dispersion paper towels. Despite the ever-increasing skin burn, Morris tried to carry the bowl to his office by saying, "owww, owwww, hot hot hot." It was not enough.

Morris dropped his perfect bowl of oatmeal, choosing to make a mess of the hallway instead of third-degree burns. An hour later, oatmeal was still soaking into the carpet, prompting Steinkatz to say, "looks like you can add this cleaning job to your tomato sauce artwork in the microwave."

One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

2010-09-21T21:04:00.001-04:00

Twice a year, during the ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I atone for an ungodly number of sins committed in the last year and reflect on the events of the last 12 months. There's also a prayer for those in need of healing, but for the last few years I've spent most of that time clearing my mind and enjoying the bubble of quiet around me. The sound of silence can be intoxicating.

I've been beyond fortunate during the prayer for health as of late. Mindnumbing events have been few and far between. My life in a vacuum where bad things don't happen often and prayers aren't necessary has magically trotted along, obstacle free. No GPS route recalculating necessary.

Until this one. My catalog of those in need of healing had a waiting list and even I was on it. This was a rough year for me.

It sucks when your immediate family isn't running on all cylinders.

Around the start of 5770 (September 2009 for the Gregorian calendar followers), I separated from my wife. Asking for a divorce was the hardest, most difficult thing I've had to do. Great times were had over the years, but I had to do it.

In July of this year, I was hit with a stunningly fast double whammy. First, my father was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Then, my sister was robbed in broad daylight in a populated area and received a black eye and unconsciousness for being kind enough to give directions when the (quickly apprehended and currently jailed) POS asked. There was a lot on my plate that even I couldn't digest in one sitting.

It sucks having immediate family members to keep in mind during prayers of healing. I'm not used to it and I don't want to be. I've thought of grandparents, a friend or two, and a pet, but not my dad and sister. What happened to my cocoon of normalcy?

Damn skippy this had better be a sweeter year!

I turned 30, blinked, and my innocence was lost. Suburbia childhood, protected from bad people and bad events, home alarm system to boot, was summarily eviscerated. The grass is brown on the other side. Bad stuff happens, but not to my inner circle. I'll wakeup soon enough.

Yet, running back to Never Neverland is not the answer. Running around obstacles only ignores problems and gives them time to grow larger. Bursting through challenges is the only way to go from here on out. My family has given me the tools to take house money even when the game seems rigged.

It started small, but I worked through the year's events. I saw a therapist a few times to get my mental bearings and learn more about myself. I sent get well cards. I bought my sister her favorite stuffed animal, Tigger, to of course help her bounce back. I started dating the maker of the world's only Quad Pie, who will be referred to in this blog as QP from here forward. Things are already working themselves out.

You have to believe that all of us land on our tails and bounce right back.

My dad starts treatment next month with bursts of radiation 20 days in a row for his very treatable cancer and my sister has finished her physical recovery as bubbly as ever. With the prayer for healing said for my inner sanctum and personal reflection finished to start 5771, I realize that shit happens and we all have to deal with it. It stinks, but even manure brings nature to life.

NOTM: Man Fails to Receive Google Alerts About Himself for Another Week

2010-08-17T08:36:00.008-04:00

Gaithersburg, MD - While trying to figure out if any of the clearance bath rugs were actually worth purchasing at the Target in the Rio, area resident Morris Herlis glanced at his Blackberry and fell into a solemn stupor.

He was a failure in life for yet another week.

An artist's Minesweeper rendition of Morris Herlis' failure to exist in Google's servers.

"I just don't get it," he said. "Why am I not recognized by the greatest popularity measurement stick?" Morris was referring to Google's search engine. He created Google Alerts for any mention of his name on the web, in the news, and in image captions. "I do all sort of boolean search techniques based on my name and never even get a nod of existence in this world. What do I have to do, land an airplane on the Hudson River?"

A pretty drastic way to set off Google Alerts about yourself.

Morris admitted to NOTM that he does not do much to increase his presence on the web outside of liking his aunt's vacation pictures on Facebook and ordering tube socks on Amazon.com.

"At least Facebook recognizes that I like things, sometimes other people like the pictures too so they sort of see me. I'm not invincible ya know. Or is it invisible? I never keep those straight. Whatever Wonder Woman is, that's me. No wait that didn't come out right." Morris probably meant her airplane.

How does Wonder Woman find her invisible plane? Why use it if she's not invisible too?

NOTM visited Google's corporate office website in Mountain View, California. Unfortunately, the travel budget did not allow for an in-person visit to see if that forwarded email of Google's office is legit.

Nevertheless, NOTM held an in-depth interview with Beth Steinkatz, senior global communications director for international human branding applications analysis for Montgomery County (MD) and Guam, about Morris' plight.

"I don't know who you're talking about," she said.

Beth Steinkatz (not pictured) did not appreciate NOTM's hard, investigative reporting about Google's practices.

After speaking with Morris, he moped along toward the front of the store, knowing that another seven suns had set without an Internet packet mentioning his name; that was until he reached the Target cashier.

After giving the unnervingly always cheerful red polo-shirted employee his license to verity his credit card payment, he heard, "thanks Mr. Herlis and have a good day."

NOTM: Man avoids geese $h!t on the sidewalk

2010-08-01T16:49:00.000-04:00

Shady Grove Metro Station - For the first time this summer, area resident Morris Herlis made it from his house to the Shady Grove Metro station without getting Canadian geese $h!t on his shoes. Morris was overwhelmed when NOTM caught up to him on the Metro platform during another delayed red line train departure.

"It's really hard to put into words what I'm feeling right now," Morris said. "This is just an epic moment for me and the generations of walkers who came before me, struggling to keep their soles free of green gunk. On the other hand, I guess speaking to you means that putting the moment into words isn't as hard as I made it out to be a few seconds ago. My bad. What was your question again?"

Few have the will to battle this disgusting path.

Witnesses said that Morris triumphantly raised his arms when he reached the station's turnstiles and its geese free zone. Geese frequent the Shady Grove Station property and surrounding sidewalks, leaving walkers a challenging course to avoid geese droppings. A clean walk is unheard of.

Beth Steinkatz saw Morris' celebration unfold. "I had just picked up my copy of the Express when this guy starts hootin' and hollerin' that he was 'finally $h!t free' so I just ignored him like the other crazies. I figured he was on some hallucinogenic trip. I mean, who yells that they're 'free of $h!t?' For all I know he was celebrating a good bowel movement. Now you might understand why it was weird."

The next generation on their way to making another sloppy sidewalk.

Morris' daily one-mile walk to the station is full of geese gifting peril. From the moment he reaches Redland Road, the cleanliness of his shoe bottoms is at risk. "[The geese] think nothing of using my sidewalk for a toilet. I bet they wouldn't like it if I took a dump in their swimming holes," Morris said before realizing that their swimming holes are also sources for his drinking water.

Morris zigged and zagged around the marks. "Man, I tell you, I was highstepping my way like a Plinko chip. I ignored bicyclists passing me, baby strollers in the opposite direction, and some old lady on the ground who come to think of it might have been my neighbor with the bad hip."

A Plinko chip's movement is based on avoiding geese droppings on sidewalks.

Close to his goal, he was confronted by a gaggle of geese eating grass along "his" sidewalk. Undeterred and brazenly determined, Morris flapped his arms and mocked the geese with a few "Ka-ka" calls. The geese ignored his incendiary acting and made sure that his walk home would be much more difficult. "I was tired, but I had to keep going; I wasn't gonna give up like a Nick Arcade contestant when my movements weren't recognized. Someone has to know what I'm talking about."

These kids don't get frustrated in Nick Arcade.

A minute later Morris had made it to the station turnstiles, devoid of Canadian geese and their presents. Unfortunately for Morris, while he was doing a celebratory spin, he stepped in a puddle and soaked his shoes, socks, and pant cuffs. Arriving at work with clean soles had to wait.

News of the Minutiae (NOTM): Man Empties Dishwasher In Record Time

2010-06-13T20:51:00.001-04:00

Rockville, MD - Area resident Morris Herlis nearly fainted in exhaustion after a perfect performance putting away his dishes, cups, utensils, and bowls on Sunday night.

At 9:12 p.m., after devouring a Foreman grilled steak and microwaved can of corn, Morris found no room to jam his plate into a sink already full of cutlery chaos. The dishes were piling up and he had to do something. Something as drastic, life-threatening, and utterly unimpressive as emptying the dishwasher.

In 1956, only four percent of homes had dishwashers.

Morris said, "I just wanted to get it done and well, I concluded that if I moved quickly and put things away faster, it would take less time. Neat concept, right? Kind of like pulling a band-aid off quickly is easier than pealing it away, hair by painful hair."

Morris ripped his Band-Aid with the speed of a sprinter and didn't break anything, displaying the grace of a dancer he's never been confused for. "I was moving fast," he said, "like that Usain Bolt fella and moving like one those people on Dancing With The Stars; one of the ones that isn't like Buzz Aldrin of course."

One way to pre-rinse your plates.

Morris unhinged the dishwasher door and dove right in, ignoring the blast of steam in his face. He wasn't going to be stopped, even when hot cycle temps reach 160 degrees F. 2nd-degree burns be damned.

In the blink of an eye, plates, cups, and bowls were evacuated to their cabinet shelves. Morris considered throwing the plates like frisbees, but didn't want to make the jump from amateur to all-madden too soon. That, and square plates with dried ketchup, because he doesn't pre-wash, don't fly well.

Awwww, so cute!

Next, he grabbed handfuls of utensils, some of which weren't handle side up. He learned that skin and serrated knife blades don't mix. Sure, he got blood on some formerly clean forks, spoons, and his one spork from the Maryland House's Roy Rogers, but you also don't stop Baryshnikov to tell him his split-sole ballet shoe is untied either.

At 9:15 his performance began. 1 minute, 48 seconds later the dishwasher door was closed and a man celebrated his fastest dishwasher emptying ever in a blog.

I Ate The Last Non-Oil-Covered Oysters In New Orleans

2010-06-08T20:30:00.004-04:00

I made my first visit to New Orleans last month for work and all I have to show for it are pictures of food, food, Bourbon Street, and more food. So please enjoy and salivate.

I expected to be overwhelmed with Saints championship signs, but I only saw this little poster by baggage claim.

So that's what the French Quarter looks like without the vomiting, public urination, and beads.

Bourbon Street was either overrated or I'm just getting older. It wasn't much other than trashy blocks of tourists who are there to make the scene they've heard about. A self-fulfilling night to be sure.

Every bar said it had the strongest drinks in the area, but it seemed like all drinks were wayyyyy watered down. I did what I could to fulfill the scene, but it shouldn't have been impossible to do on a Thursday night.

If you weren't drunk enough last night, here's a bar in the mall serving hurricanes all day.

New Orleans' homecooking is pretty simple…just add shellfish to rice and beans with a little spice. It was tasty, but I wasn't wowed.

Check it out! Who knew you could keep Kosher in this land of oysters, shrimp, crawfish, and crabs.

I tried some Pralines because that's what Wikipedia suggested I do. They were just okay, even all 6 flavors I tried from Southern Candymakers.

Lots of beads and masks to be found.

Chris Paul was much taller in person than I ever expected.

Mmmmm, oysters at Acme Oyster House, also known as the best meal during the four days I was in town. Might be the final Louisiana oysters for a long time.

The charbroiled oysters were spectacular. Finally a meal with some real flavor.

The two dozen oysters I ate weren't anywhere close to getting me on this board. I'd have to eat 15 dozen. The record is held by IFOCE Sonya Thomas who downed 52 dozen in a little over 10 minutes.

The shortest escalator I've ever seen…

…that is until I saw a picture of this one in the Garden State Plaza Mall in my NJ neck of the woods.

I swung by Mothers for a 50/50 po'boy – ½ fried oysters and ½ fried shrimp. It was good, but again, it only tasted how I expected it to taste. There are no surprises with New Orleans cooking.

A steamboat on the Mississippi? Who knew.

That tugboat's heading straight for that shark fin!

A sole saxophonist playing along the Mississippi's Riverwalk.

Walking a mile in the heat and humidity to eat Café' du Monde was worth it.

I didn't know what a beignet was before this trip, but I sure am happy that I do now.

Café du Monde's food offerings consist of the fried dough and powdered sugar concoctions. I had no trouble finishing them off.

A final sunrise on the mighty Mississippi before heading home.

Rocking the East Coast

2010-04-26T22:55:00.004-04:00

After a breezy 3.5-hour drive a week ago, I was transported from the cozy confines of MoCo to the real, "The City." I played tourist during the day and surprised my dad for his 65th (!) birthday at night, before visiting Philly for brunch with a friend from college. It was a whirlwind 36 hours, but hot damn it was worth it!

Somehow nobody's making eye contact with anybody else.

The new pedestrian walkway was much appreciated in Times Square. I still had to fend off five-year-olds who didn't know how to get out of the way. I stepped aside instead of getting hit in the groin.

Let's travel all the way to this city of great restaurants just to eat at the Olive Garden. Sadly, the place was packed.

Long live the TKTS booth! A haven for me, el Cheapo Depot, I landed orchestra seats to "Chicago."

Bianca Marroquin was awesome as Roxie. This prohibited video doesn't even do her justice.

Blasphemy! Who dares to advertise Canadian bagels in NYC when there's H&H, etc.??? This is the rarest of all things, a Tim Hortons this far south so of course I went inside.

Thought I must admit that the Tim Horton Timbits were better than Dunkin Donuts' munchkins.

What ever shall we call this park in the center of the city?

"The meeting isn't until three, but I always like to come a little early. This is where I do my haunts. Oh, look! [points to a Sbarro's] My favorite New York pizza place. I'm going to go get me a New York slice!" -- Michael Scott

Time for some legit NYC pizza. Broccoli on pizza was awesome.

Perfect! Go to Flash Dancers, now offering a sushi and sake bar. Nice warning above the entrance that warns about bed bugs. These are the things I notice.

The House of Brews was like every bar in midtown, an Irish bar with an Irish bartender and Irish customers. "That was a bloody yellow card!" was heard often.

A bike lane signal. At least bikers are safe in one Manhattan intersection. Just a few thousand more to go.

Just about as clean as you'll find for a food cart.

A great miracle happened at the Empire State Building...no significant lines.

It was really cold up that high, but it was sooooo worth it.

Tall buildings to the northwest.

Taller buildings to the north.

Tallest buildings to the northeast.

Don't drop your camera!

Your typical NYC street: school buses, taxis, livery cabs, tourist bus, luxury sedan from the NJ suburbs, and commuter bus from Connecticut.

Rolled to Philly for a hot minute the next day and enjoyed Rittenhouse Square.

I tossed a penny over my shoulder and wished for peace on earth. Yeah right!

Postcard weather made Philly look good.

I rocked some solid challah french toast with ricotta cheese and blackberry sauce at Marathon on the Square (the freshly squeezed OJ was not so solid). It looked like this except it for the whipped cream and ugly plate. I was stuffed completely for the drive back to Maryland.

Rocking the West Coast

2010-04-20T22:15:00.001-04:00

Two weeks ago I left the confines of the east coast and visited my sister and her boyfriend who live in another country. Fortunately, my passport isn't required for entry just yet as it expired 10 years ago. What is this great land called? Why, it's California of course. Onward with the pictures!

As a randomly selected person for a full body scan at BWI, I sure hope I put on a good show for the TSA tech.

For the 2nd time in a row, I flew to LA on Southwest, sat in the first row, and had a crazy woman (this time talking about aliens landing in her home state of NM) sit in my row. Fortunately, someone sat between us. The lesson here as always, if you fly Southwest, accept that you're going to be trapped with more crazies than normal.

Will.I.am (or more likely his twin) was on the plane. Boom boom pow!

The next day we made the pilgrimage to a shrine for one of California's proudest exports - Ronald Reagan. I learned many things about Reagan this day.

Once an actor always an actor. Reagan seemed to act the part of president, but never was a true president making his own decisions. His library even played a few clips about his lack of political aspirations, be it for governor or president. He voted democratic for many years and then changed to republican practically overnight for no ideological reason in the late 60s.

Reagan was a natural fit as the Gipper after his athletic career.

Reagan was a true example of an outlier. He was what the country wanted for a president; a straightshooter, someone who simply came across as a nice guy, and wouldn't break into a hotel room to steal campaign secrets. He won the White House on charm and simplicity and the public was okay with that, nevermind that all of his policies, speeches, and decisions were made by terribly important handlers. Heaven forbid he had his own thoughts.

This out of focus picture is of two model boat kits he put together. An entire display for this? I suppose with a library dedicated to a single person, everything gets added. The exhibit cards throughout were infinitely positive - these boats showed Reagan's dedication to finishing a project he began and his tremendous amount of patience to complete every task.

His successful acting career was as much about his ability as being in the right place at the right time. He had many moments in which he was literally thrown behind a mic to do sports play-by-play or DJ as a fill-in. From there, he was a star on radio just as TV came into its own. Thanks to the right timing, he made a smooth transition to TV.

When my library's built, I promise that it'll at least hide the speaker wire.

Turns out, the president's plane wasn't named after the shoes, it's the other way around.

How did anything get done on board without a laptop? HDTV? Touch screen phone?

Then, with his acting career on the decline a friend suggested that he run for governor. Reagan explains at the library that he didn't want any part of politics, but just did it on a whim. I suspect politics came easy for him because he could just act the part and fit right in with the hot air and phoniness of the profession.

Finally, a museum that should have an authentic section of the Berlin Wall on display, unlike say, the Newseum. Of course, saying, "Tear down this wall," could have incited the launch of nuclear missiles, I approve of Reagan's piece of the wall.

The miniature White House model was cool.

The view from the library was nice, if lacking vegetation that makes mountainside pictures really great.

The next day we walked the beach in Palos Verdes near the Trump National Golf course. The course offers views of the ocean on every hole and costs half as much as Pebble Beach, making it Pebble Beach's ugly stepsister. Really, if you're going to play a course along the beach, Pebble Beach is the one and only. Spend the extra money.

"This is the finest putting green and clubhouse on the entire west coast of North America."

"These are the finest ketchup, mustard, relish, and mayonnaise packets in the state. The heating tray is the best money can buy."

One unwritten rule: You may drive nothing worse than a BMW or Mercedes to the golf course.

It sure looks nothing like the 2009-10 winter in DC.

It only gets better as you get closer to the water.

I doubt this dog appreciates the life he has out here.

Let's be honest, having four real seasons is soooo overrated on our coast.

Looks like I missed out on visiting Marineland.

Yeah, it's a tough sell on why moving out here makes sense. Too bad we didn't feel the 7.2-magnitude earthquake that struck just as we were finishing our walk.

I ain't scared of no rattlesnakes. I watch Man vs. Wild.

Just before heading home, I took in la Marina de la Marina del Rey.

On the flight back over Indiana, I caught a faint glimpse of the northern lights. It almost made up for not being at the beach anymore and missing an exciting men's NCAA basketball final game.

Torah Hero - Be A Bar/Bat Mitzvah Badass!

2010-03-30T13:45:00.001-04:00

Hey kids, ever wanted a cool way to practice your Bar/Bat Mitzvah prayers and Torah portions? Then Torah Hero might be just what you need. Here's how I'd design the game as a parody of the Guitar Hero and Rock Band videogame franchises. Neither the people nor companies nor places mentioned have endorsed or agreed to the game...yet. And as you know, now that it's posted here, I own the copyright to the idea...suckas!

For the uninitiated, Torah Hero allows you to sing songs and play plastic instruments to make music. Singing is done like karaoke with words scrolling across the TV. "Music" is made by hitting a colored button on the guitar and "strumming" when a shape of the same color moves down the screen and across a marked line. When you hit the correct button (or drumpad) you'll make a note. The more accurate you are, the better your music will sound, resulting in a higher score and more money.

Be a Mensch and pickup a copy at your local Temple...it's tax deductible and pays me for designing this logo.

Gameplay
Playing alone or in a group, use the instruments to get through prayers, songs, Torah portions, and minigames. When bandmates fail out of a song, they're revived by Jewish penicillin (matzah ball soup). For more points, activate L'Chaim power with a double drum cymbal hit, guitar master button, or by turning the wiimote and nunchuk like you were scrolling through a Torah.

Difficulty Levels
Game difficulty is determined by the ratio of English-Hebrew content and game speed. This means a player may choose a Conservative level of English-Hebrew content and play it at an Orthodox game speed. Game speeds increase from Reform up to Chasidic.

Reform - English/Hebrew equal split

Conservative - A little more Hebrew

Orthodox - Almost all Hebrew

Chasidic - All Hebrew as possible

Just think of how proud you'd be of your son when he not only chants prayers and sings songs perfectly, but also plays guitar.

Venues
As you progress through the game, you'll play at many great Jewish locations in the U.S. and Israel, including:

Generic Temple Name - Temple Shalom Beth Shalom Har Sinai Shalom Beit Israel

DC - Washington Hebrew Congregation

LA - Valley Beth Shalom

Baltimore - Temple Oheb Shalom

Big City Suburb - Temple Sinai of Bergen County

NYC - Temple Emanu-El

Carnegie Deli

Cleveland - Shaarey Tikvah

JCC Purim Carnival

Israel - Western Wall of the 2nd Temple

Instruments
You can play the game with up to two plastic guitars (that sound like acoustic and electric when possible), a microphone, set of drums, and a special shofar attachment.

The drumkit doubles as a set of bongos!

Downloadable Content
You may download yamulkes, mezzuzahs, menorahs, talises, and weekly Torah portions not included in the original game.

Create-a-Character
Create you and your bandmates using one of these baseline characters:

Your character abilities improve as you progress through the game. Many clothing and decorative options are available.

Create-a-Shul
Torah Hero allows you to create your own shul! You'll begin with a small shul for which you must hire an inexperienced, fresh out of school Rabbi and Cantor; you're too small to attract talented service leaders let alone afford them. The better you perform songs the more money you'll earn in the form of donations to the temple.

As you play more songs, you'll attract more congregants allowing you to upgrade and expand the building with a nursery and Hebrew school classrooms. This also means hiring an education director and letting a president of the Temple board take over operational duties if you didn't use them to create your character earlier.

Of course running a Temple isn't for everyone. Among the issues that you'll face include:

Someone mixed-up the grape juice for Manischewitz for Shabbat services so now lots of middle schoolers are drunk.

A cardiologist who's pushy, wealthy, and an important donor wants his son's Bar Mitzvah date changed just three weeks before the agreed original date.

The sisterhood's membership levels are low.

Nobody's buying the junk in the Temple gift shop (not that anyone does).

As the shul expands you run low on Gates of Repentance copies.

Nobody's following carpool pickup rules.

The Lowensteins brought their triplet toddlers to the adult Rosh Hashannah service again.

The entire nursery school is infected with the swine flu.

Someone leaked a copy of the Rabbi's high holiday sermon to the elderly congregants and they're already complaining.

The accounting office misplaced a family scholarship endowment fund.

Rampant high holiday ticket forgery, StubHub posting, and eBay scalping.

You continue losing to the rival Temple across town in the Maccabi games.

Design and construct your shul like Phelps Construction Group did for Beth Am Shalom.

Jewish Guilt Loading Screens
Because there's a delay while the game loads each song, you'll pass the time reading the many passive-aggressive themes of Jewish guilt. You may have done nothing wrong, but your mother thinks you did, including:

Why haven't you called your mother today?

Would it kill you to visit your aunt Ruthie? She's only 10 minutes away.

Your grandmother made matzah pancakes, can you at least try eating a few to make her happy?

If you keep eating like that you'll never find yourself a nice Jewish boy.

Read the Modern Jewish Girl's Guide to Guilt.

Now that you're 18 years old, when are you finding a nice Jewish girl, getting engaged, getting married, and having my grandchildren?

You should come to the brotherhood meeting, it's full of guys like your old man.

Come over for dinner tonight; we have extra brisket and we never see you anymore.

You ARE going to Shabbat services even though you're no longer living with us, right?

I'm sure you have some time to at least volunteer at Shabbat and hand out challah. Don't make me look bad in front of the Rabbi and ruin the family name. We've only been going for generations.

Why don't I see you wearing that argyle sweater I got you for Channukah?

Being a rocket scientist is good an all, but I'd be prouder if you had become a doctor, lawyer, or Rabbi. To be honest, I'd only be proud of you if you had become a Rabbi.

Don't worry about me, I'm just your mother.

Remember that girl you had a crush on in nursery school? Well I ran into her mother at the store and she says hello. You know she's married now, you missed out.

Did you make me those grandkids yet?

Songlist
Tiers of songs are played in the order they appear on the calendar. As available, you may choose different melodies and Ashkenazi or Sephardic pronunciations. The following are the default song and prayer versions. Do pity me by checking all song links because I spent many, many unhealthy hours finding just the right ones. Think of this as your one stop site for basic Jewish songs on YouTube.

Tier 1 - Shabbat
Location - Temple Shalom Beth Shalom Har Sinai Shalom Beit Israel
Song 1 - Wine Blessing (and in sign language)
Song 2 - Bread Blessing
Song 3 - Candle Blessing
Song 4 - Dovid Melech (with hand gestures from "Grease" as I learned in Hebrew school)
Song 5 - Shema
Song 6 - Shecheyanu
Song 7 - Adon Olam
Song 8 - Lecha Dodi (or an acapella version from Brandeis
Encore - Shabbat Shalom
Extras - Song background includes 12 and 13-year-old kids not paying attention at the back of the sanctuary; party scenes include the electric slide, Coke and Pepsi races, and Hart to Hart performing.

This rock version of Adon Olam is great!

Tier 2 - Debbie Friedman (unlockable character)
Location - Temple Sinai of Bergen County
Song 1 - Mi Shebeirach
Song 2 - Miriam's Song
Song 3 - Aleph-Bet song
Song 4 - Not by Might, Not by Power
Encore - Lechi Lach (quicker acapella version)
Extras - Unlock kugel to improve guitar skills
Unlockable minigame - using the wiimote and nunchuk, flip and cross strands of dough to make challah

Tier 3 - Rosh Hashannah
Location - Washington Hebrew Congregation
Song 1 - Mi Chamocha (or this band version)
Song 2 - Ein Keloheinu
Song 3 - Sim Shalom
Song 4 - Shofar prayers (tekiah, teruah, shevarim-teruah, and shevarim) using the shofar attachment
Encore - Tekiah Gedolah (play the shofar attachment as long as possible)
Extras - Unlock apples and honey to improve singing

Tier 4 - Yom Kippur
Location - Temple Oheb Shalom
Song 1 - Hinei Ma Tov or the techno version
Song 2 - Shalom Rav
Song 3 - Gevurot
Song 4 - Kol Nidre is only listened to and not played (Yo-Yo Ma and the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra)
Encore - Kedushah
Unlockable minigame - Drive to beat the Kol Nidre doors before they close
Extras - Unlock alternate talises

The race to get to the Temple before doors close for Kol Nidre will be based on OutRun's game engine.

Tier 5 - Sukkot and Simchat Torah
Location - Valley Beth Shalom
Song 1 - Torah blessing before and after reading
Song 2 - Torah Tziva
Song 3 - Haftorah blessing before and after reading
Song 4 - V'ha'er Ein'einu
Encore - Current Torah portion
Extras - Unlock a Sukkah as playable venue
Unlockable minigame - "Don't Drop the Torah" has players pressing buttons to balance the Torah as congregants get pushy trying to touch their prayer books to the Torah (the Torah is never shown hitting the ground, but a dropped Torah means replaying Tier 5).

Tier 6 - Birthright Israel
Location - Western wall of 2nd Temple
Song 1 - Yerushalayim Shel Zahav
Song 2 - V'Shamru
Song 3 - Birthright Israel Program Song
Song 4 - Zoom Gali Gali
Song 5 - Am Yisrael Chai
Encore - Havenu Shalom Aleichem (Beach Boys style)
Extras - Unlock mezzuzahs from a Jerusalem marketplace to give to your mother or hang in your create-a-Shul's many doorposts

The Wiggles + Havenu Shalom Aleichem = Awesome

Tier 7 - Channukah
Location - Carnegie Deli
Song 1 - Channukah Candle Prayers
Song 2 - I Have a Little Dreidel
Song 3 - The Latke Song (Debbie in a return performance)
Song 4 - Light One Candle
Song 5 - Maoz Tzur (Rock of Ages) (also available in Marching Band style)
Song 6 - Sivivon, Sov, Sov, Sov
Encore - Channukah, Oh Channukah with sign language (also available in Beach Boys style)
Extras - Unlock alternate menorahs

Tier 8 - Tu B'Shevat and Purim
Location - JCC purim carnival
Song 1 - Mein Hut Der Hat Drie Ekken (My Hat, It Has Three Corners)
Song 2 - Etz Chaim (It's The Tree of Life)
Song 3 - Chag Purim (or the more popular party version)
Song 4 - Once There was a Wicked Man (lyrics found here)
Encore - JCC carnival minigames: basketball free throws and bean bag target toss for the same lame prizes offered every year at every JCC Purim carnival
Extras - Activate star power by shaking the wiimote like a grogger; get trees planted in your name in Israel after finishing Tier 8
Unlockable minigame - Press button combinations to part the Red Sea

Tier 9 - Passover
Location - Shaarey Tikvah
Song 1 - Dayeinu (use wiimotes during song to dab drops on plates for the 10 plagues)
Song 2 - Mah Nishtanah
Song 3 - Let My People Go
Song 4 - Chad Gadya (Two Zuzim/An Only Kid) said as fast as possible
Encore - Oseh Shalom (also available in Beach Boys style)
Extras - Unlock brisket to improve drumming ability

Earn extra points chanting the four questions in Yiddish.

Tier 10 - Jewish Singers and Broadway
Location - Temple Emanu-El
Song 1 - Avinu Malkeinu by Barbara Streisand (non-celebrity version with lyrics)
Song 2 - If I Were a Rich man
Song 3 - Hava Nagila by the Eagles (guitar only)
Song 4 - Hatikvah (Israel National Anthem by Streisand)
Song 5 - Channukah Song by Adam Sandler (part 1)
Encore - Hava Nagila (Neil Diamond)
Extras - Artists are unlockable
Song Heard During Credits - Hatikva and Yerushalayim Shel Zahav combination on Piano

Champion's Award - You've Earned a Dual Degree as Rabbi and Cantor
Character presented with certificate at Hebrew Union College (Reform), Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies in Los Angeles/Rabbinical School of the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York (Conservative), or Yeshiva University (Orthodox).

Get your copy of Torah Hero today!

DSW in DC is the Sculpture Garden Ice Rink

2010-02-21T19:33:00.002-05:00

On the first weekend without snow on sidewalks in the DC area in a long, long time, I jammed my feet into overused skates, with their dull edges and ratty laces, and sashayed around the National Gallery's Sculpture Garden ice rink without falling. I actually enjoyed being outside in the mid-40s; however, my sister was quick to reminded me that LA weather allows her to enjoy the beach in February. Whatever.

I got in the ticket line around 3:45 p.m. for the 4-6 p.m. session. Of course that session sold out before I could get my ticket so I stayed in line for the 5-7 p.m. session and warmed up in the sculpture garden's pavilion eatery. Suddenly paying $7 for a garden salad didn't seem so bad when it came with heat, glorious heat. As cheapo depot, I just sat a table reserved for customers and left with the same amount in my wallet as I had coming in.

Another thing off my DC bucket list.

Within minutes, the line for skate rentals reach 1/3 of the way around the rink so I left the warmth to grab my spot. I struck a conversation with some folks in line and realized that everyone skating here is required to say that they haven't skated in at least 10 years as the woman and her daughter said they haven't skated in 17 years. Quite an exact number.

I grabbed my skates and started laced them twice for maximum ankle stability that made no difference in the quality of my skating, but the piece of mind was nice. I talked to the folks on the bench across from me who hadn't skated in 14 and 11 years. Of course they hadn't in 10+ years.

Plenty of free shoes to take in the heart of DC. I'm not sure taking this picture was worth the strange looks I received.

One woman stopped after a few laps because her ankles hurt while her friend, who owned skates, said it was a good idea to stop because the ice rink was small, the surface was awful, and "people are out of control out there." Thanks for the reassurance before I head out. Sure sounds like a swell time! What a way to sell the experience I already paid for.

I rammed my shoes in a locker that was designed using the Smithsonian's collection of foot binding shoes. The lockers were raggedy and made me wonder if the peeling paint gave me a dose of lead for good measure. It was still worth knowing that my shoes were safe instead of leaving them under the benches and walkway. A locker's only $0.50 so why risk things to a rogue criminal with a shoe fetish.

Size 12 sneakers don't fit in the lockers nicely.

I walked to the ice and joined the parade of skaters, circling counter-clockwise like vultures over the carcass of a metro DC resident's bucket list - mine. I was finally skating in DC. I skated five years ago, but didn't want to be called out so I was ready to say it had been 15 years if anyone asked.

The flock of blades tore the ice and made it bumpy after 10 minutes of laps. At times my blade struggled to push off the slush, but come on, I'm slowly skating on the Mall! It's about the experience and not the ice quality. It's also about watching hot dog skaters fall on their tailbones. There are five types of sculpture garden ice skaters:

Experts - there are experts who pirouette in the center ice and cause no harm and experts who skate backward quickly, dash and dart among amateur skaters, and think wearing hockey skates gives them the right to violate the first two rules of the rink.
Non-expert backward skaters - backward skating defines good skaters from average ones and a few folks showed they can still fit into their hockey skates from high school. My mediocre skating skills developed from a handful of suburban rink experiences allows me to go backward very, very slowly; a skill I wasn't about to demonstrate here.
Tag Along Couple Kinetic Yuppie (TACKY) - the majority of couples around the ice had unbalanced skills; one person was walking on skates while the other partner was comfortable and could go faster. One couple was annoying as the guy pushed too quickly for her liking and created a human battering ram to toddlers everywhere.
Teenagers - decent teenage skaters took after the rude experts and skated too quickly for the rink's flow and also took spectacular falls onto the ice, against the rails, and into each other that I thoroughly enjoyed.
Parents with kids - in what made for many Kodak moments (how dated is that reference? maybe it should now be a "digital moment"), a parent shuffled along the ice holding their kid's hand, never losing touch.

Not even this Zamboni could keep the surface bump free after a resurfacing.

After a 45-minute skate, I waited to grab a few more laps on what should have been smooth ice thanks to the Zamboni. The ice was improved, but only for five minutes as long as I avoided areas the machine missed. I'm no Zamboni driving expert, but I'd like to think you want to resurface the entire ice in one pass.

After my right ankle was tired from constant left turning, I grabbed my shoes, returned my skates, and took a final glance at the rink only to see one more assclown skater eat the ice. Good times.