:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: Just Thinking out Loud ::

It was dead for the first couple of hours at work this morning. I spent some of that time pondering the irony of the First Family's new Water Retriever puppy being given to them by, of all people, Ted Kennedy.

John Madden, thanks for your unbridled enthusiasm all these years. Your ceaseless passion for football made us enjoy the game just a little bit more. You also made us meathead football fans feel like smarter men.

Working at a restaurant that just opened is akin to the blind leading the stupid. There is crossover.

As much as I like U2, the new album feels more like a continuation of the last album. Not as enamored with it as I initially was. However, "Magnificent" is in fact, so.

I have three different bottles of "good" scotch and one bourbon that I haven't touch in months. It's because I don't feel like I've done anything that warrants a good drink.

Hasn't kept me from enjoying a pour of Jack, however.

Apparently, there's no truth to the rumor that U.S. Naval forces tried to detain pirates for the purpose of getting their $9.50 and 2 1/2 hours of their lives back for "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End."

I've been listening to Beethoven's "Symphony No. 3 in E flat major 'Eroica'" a lot after tasting and enjoying a Washington State Riesling of the same name.

I'm not turning gay.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Good thing Wagner never wrote a piece called "Doppelbock."

(Not even sure what that last line meant.)

I have my health, I have a job, and my guitar still has all six strings. I've always tried to be a "glass is half-full" type, as long as there's beer in it.

I never watch "American Idol" and yet I still know who Susan Boyle is.

Thanks to my hair, there are few guys in Miami that looking anything like me, so when I notice a woman staring, I honestly can't tell if it's because she thinks I'm attractive or if she think I'm some rare, visual curiosity.

Every time someone orders a steak well-done, an Angel's Halo goes dim.

I don't want Mr. Obama to fail. I don't agree with a some of his politics and many of his plans for pulling our country out of this malaise but but Goddammit I hope he doesn't fail. I'm not one of those rhetoric-spewing, fuckmook idealogues who say stupid shit like "I'm moving to Canada if Bush gets reelected." Why? I like it here. If I'm not living in Miami, it'll be some other part of America because this is the greatest country in the world. I want Obama to return us to the greatness of decades past where allies respected us and rivals feared us. Because as long as I and 300 million of my fellow Americans choose to reside in this young, great land of ours, we desperately need it to recover. I want Mr. Obama to make us forget the misguided war, the enervating recession, and the ignominious legacy of the last Administration. I even hope he ends up greater than the Messianic perception that he and the media has manufactured. For the sake of those around me, and for the sake of this country, I want him to succeed.

I'm just not getting that vibe from him, that's all.

Labels: alkie, humor, irony, random thoughts, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 8:25 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Fettuccine, Linguini, Martini, Bikini ::

As much as I love spending time in the kitchen some friends are surprised that I don't own any of those informercial cooking products that blare from the TV at three in the morning. (They're probably asking because they know I'm usually awake at three in the morning.)

It's a good question actually and my answer usually falls along the lines of either "it looks like a piece of shit" or "I prefer doing it old-school." It's why I never owned a George Foreman Grill (I prefer a good skillet AND I like the grease to stay put when I cook my steaks, thank you), one of those Ronco rotisserie ovens (doesn't work well with cedar planks), or any type of food storage savers (I never have leftovers and nothing lasts very long in my fridge.)

You guys know about my love of a good cheeseburger so I almost picked up one of those Big City Slider Stations until I read this review. "Smells of noxious chemicals" doesn't sound very appetizing and I prefer a good full-size burger anyway. Also, judging from the size of your typical slider, I'd have to eat at least twelve or so of these before I got full and I don't have that kind of time. (Actually I do these days but, whatever.)

I do a lot of chopping and dicing when I cook so when I first saw the informercial for the Slap Chop it seemed like a Godsend... Until I realized the "star" is that same hypermanic guy pushing the Sham-wow. I don't know about you but I can't not laugh at this thing. There's his classic line at the 0:37 mark that I can't believe made it past the writers and directors of this car crash. There's a part of me that wants to buy this thing for the sole purpose of being able to use that line on some friends while keeping a straight face.

Then there's classic line number two when he's talking about the "Gratey." "Fettuccine, linguini, martini, bikini." I don't know about you but I have this visual of an Italian Bistro in the Bahamas that features a swim-up bar.

After watching that a couple of times, he killed it for me. Something about him just seems... off, and not just because he could be the A.D.H.D. posterchild who reuses to take his medication. He seems like a guy that would try to peddle real-estate deals to people who got ripped off by Bernie Madoff. That and the Slap Chop just seem like it would come apart after two weeks so it falls under the "piece of shit" category. I have a decent chef's knife. I'll stick with that for now.

Side note: Am I the only one that saw the informercial for the Snuggie and got creeped out?

Labels: cheeseburger, cooking, humor, unintentional comedy, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 5:11 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: BRUUUUUUCE ::

One thing I completely forgot to mention about the Super Bowl was the halftime performance by Bruce Springsteen. I'm a fan of The Boss, not quite to the degree that I'm a U2 fan, but I like a good number of his songs, and "Born to Run" is by far my favorite album and song.

Watching him do the things he did on that stage was pretty cool for me. At the same time, when he started to climb up on that piano, my first thought was "I hope he doesn't fall and break his hip." The dude is my dad's age (actually, he's younger) for crying out loud and the only thing dad is likely to climb on these days is his bed. But he performed with an energy, verve and stage presence that younger musicians, like say Billy Corgan would kill for... assuming he would ever stop being a pretentious, self-loathing, fuckmook with that pathetic whoa-is-me I'm-a-starving-artist-facade. (And I like Smashing Pumpkins. Seriously. And I digress yet again.)

Just a few thoughts:

• There were no fewer than four moments during that halftime show that made me question whether or not he'd injure himself. That shot of him grabbing the mic stand and leaning back with his knees bent like that, I swear I thought saw a genuinely pained look on his face and I wasn't sure whether or not he'd actually be able to get up from that without Little Stevie and Clarence Clemons helping him out. Though I admit, if he did hurt himself and had to be taken off the field on a cart, that would have amused me to no end.

• (Speaking of which, one of the my favorite bizarre moments was seeing the Big Man on the cowbell for "Glory Days." It was cool, unnecessary and unintentionally hilarious at the same time. Look, I'm a huge advocate of more cowbell but what's the point if you can't even hear it? They had a seven-piece band you put him on the cowbell? On the other hand, if anyone can make a mute cowbell seem cool, it's Clarence. Gene Frenkle would be proud.)

• I like watching power slides as much as the next rock fan but Springsteen's power slide gave me two thoughts: 1. When he was running (read: ambling) to build up speed he looked, well, old. That or his pants were way too tight. 2. I really didn't want to see his crotch flying towards the camera (read: right at me) at that speed at that close of a range, especially on the HD screen at the bar. Good thing that portion of the show wasn't in 3D or else someone might have hurt themselves from flinching.

• The setlist was pretty good. I noticed he changed the lyrics in "Glory Days" to fit the football theme, though it didn't bother me nearly as much as it did other hardcore Springsteen fans since, let's face it, he's not exactly Alexander Solzhenitsyn to begin with. For example, in "Glory Days" you throw a "fastball" whereas a "speedball" is something you do to get high. Not that I'd know anything about that.

• The mic-sharing spit-off with Little Stevie was vintage but having the fake referee go out there to throw a flag was egregious. I'm pretty sure several lines were crossed there.

• "Born to Run" isn't just my favorite album, it's one of my favorite songs and I was really hoping he'd end with it. Instead he clumsily mixed in "Working on a Dream" from his new album. That and the fireworks shooting off in time with the beat of "Born to Run" seemed out of place. Bruce Springsteen, a sellout? Say it ain't so. On the bright side, despite rumors he didn't sing "Secret Garden."

• Out of all the people sitting at the bar patio, there were literally six people who seemed to be into the halftime show, and they were all my age or just a little older. A lot of the younger customers and the Latin audience used that moment to go to the bathroom, order more beer, or get high. I know the peak years of his popularity are behind him but you can't honestly tell me that that many people are apathetic to a living rock legend. I know I'm biased but still.

Despite the flaws, I really enjoyed it. A little more than last year's Tom Petty and way more than Paul McCartney. (What, was Oasis busy?)

Labels: football, humor, more cowbell, music, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:33 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Whoops ::

I love cooking. One of the reasons is that I get to play with sharp objects. That's just the guy side of me. It's similar to why a lot of guys can't cook but love grilling: we get to play with fire. Add an element of danger and guys will try just about anything. (If grocery stores put tampons at the end of an American Gladiators-style obstacle course, wives and girlfriends will never have to buy them again.)

Another thing about me as that I can sometimes be accident-prone. I bump into things, drop stuff, and knock things over. (It's amazing anyone lets me work in their restaurant.) Not a great combination if you spend as much time as I spend cutting, dicing, and chopping as I do. (Or for that matter, work at a job where I'm always carrying large trays of food and drinks.) But I've been quite lucky as I still have all ten fingers and toes. And fortunately, I've never dropped anyone’s food. (Though I lost count of the number of empty glasses dropped on the way to the dishwasher.)

I finally gave myself a nice gash on my left pinky last night with a new chef's knife I bought a few weeks ago. Nothing too serious: I was mincing up some garlic and rosemary for the rack of lamb I was cooking and the knife slipped out of hand and my pinky can now look forward to a quarter-inch scar.

I clean it, douse with a splash of tequila I had nearby (no, I was not drinking any - yet - and I couldn't find the rubbing alcohol), bandage it and resume cooking. Once the lamb was in the oven, the smell of tequila gave me a craving for a good margarita. I make mine from scratch, which involves squeezing fresh limes. I fail to remember the cut and the lime juice drips onto my finger. I couldn't tell you why or how but for some reason, lime juice on a cut stings worse than alcohol.

I avoid any more incidents, plate my dinner and pour a nice glass of Sangiovese. It was delicious, worth all the mishaps. Naturally, I almost knock over the wine glass.

Labels: cooking, klutz, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 4:55 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Olympics ::

I didn't really pay much attention to the Olympics beyond men's basketball, baseball, and women's beach volleyball and softball.

But I'd flip it on every now and then and I would occasionally see an event where my first thought is "this is considered a sport?"

Handball? "Race Walk?" Trampoline? Last time I checked, trampoline is something drunk people jumped on during a backyard BBQ. At this rate, beer pong should be a "sport" by 2016.

Labels: sports, unintentional comedy, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:02 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Weirdest Compliment Ever ::

I was hanging out The Abby the other night and ran into some friends I hadn't seen in a while. They already had a few by the time I got there so at least for them, conversation flowed easily while I just sat and listened, nodded, commented and laughed when appropriate. I had a long night at work and needed a moment to wind down.

After my first beer, I finally decided to let my hair down. Literally. (Work requires me to pull my hair back in a tight bun; a ponytail won't suffice since it's about two feet long.) One of the girls says "oh my gawd, I didn't know your hair was so long" and starts running her fingers through it. (If a decent looking chick wants touch me, I usually don't put up a fight.) "Can I braid your hair?"

I simply nod and turn my attention back to my buddy and talk baseball while watching SportsCenter. Meanwhile the girl is drunk and keeps losing her place while trying to give me something called a "fishbone braid." She gives up after a few minutes and sits back down and says this:

"Dan-E, if I ever get cancer and lose my hair I want you to donate yours so I can wear it."

We laughed. Did I mention she was drunk?

Labels: Abby, drunk, hair, unintentional comedy, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:21 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: Cosmos ::

Now, I don't know what it's like at other restaurants but at my current and last place of employment, the guys (who are hetero) usually all get along pretty well. If it's slow and we're standing around talking, conversations can get pretty crass. If it's all guys working that night, it becomes a frat house, with all the shit talking, pranks, and other crap we pull to get through the night. I wrote about it here and here.

I'm sure the majority of my female readers (do I have any male readers any more? Raise your hand(s)) know what movie is coming out this weekend. It was a source of humor for most of the male waiters at work this week and Ramon started it a couple of nights ago while we were setting up the restaurant. "Hey ladies, you remember to keep Friday open so we can go see 'Sex and the City, okay?" (That in itself was funny because we're so shortstaffed that nobody gets Friday or Saturday night off.)

Theo chimes in with "I'm so there girlfriend!"

"And we're gonna go to a lounge and drink some Cosmos and try to find some sugardaddy."

Of course, I can't stay quiet. "And we just have to stop by the Steve Madden store because I saw the cutest pair purple pumps in the window the other day."

(Sometimes, straight guys bond by acting really gay e.g. professional athletes rewarding a great play - touchdowns or home runs - by slapping each other on the ass, but that's a whole other post.)

It's funnier if you actually listened in on it while it happened, since a couple of the girls who work with us were laughing. (Or maybe not.)

The jokes keep going until last night, where I suddenly have this bright idea: "Hey you know what we should do: we should stop by Finnegan's, do shots 'till we're all hammered, then go to a screening and heckle the movie until they throw us out."

I was (only sorta) joking except a few of the guys looked at each other and nodded, and then they gave me that "it's not a bad idea" look. Of course, talk then deteriorated into the stuff we could shout at the screen during SATC, most of which is puerile and sophomoric. I'll spare you the details but a lot of it resembles what a drunk frat guy might yell at a drunk sorority chick during Mardi Gras weekend, and for a few minutes before we opened, we were in stitches.

(By the way, I graduated high school in 1992, in case you were wondering.)

I walked by the bartenders tonight before we opened and quipped, "you guys got enough Triple Sec?" They got the reference and laughed (Triple Sec is a key ingredient in Cosmopolitans) but the scary part was that even though I was joking, I don't think I walked pass the service bar the whole night without seeing at least one Cosmo waiting to be served. Theo had the first table of the night, a group of six middle-aged women, and their first round consisted of four Cosmos and two Sourapple martinis. We had a few bachelorette parties, and some all-female parties tonight each of those tables had at least two Cosmos every time I walked by.

Not only that, our restaurant is a few blocks from the local megaplex so after 8:00, there would be a huge crowd of women walking by every hour or so. Oddly, about half these women seemed either angry or sullen, was the movie as bad as I heard? Who knows, and really, who cares. We never followed up on my bright idea, which was probably a good thing, but I'd be lying if there weren’t a small part of me that wished I could have had that "I once got thrown out of a movie theater" story.

Labels: drinking, humor, I'm an idiot, movie, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:15 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: More Drugs ::

It's not exactly a secret within the service industry that a good number of its employees do drugs regularly. And from what I've heard, people who work in Miami take things to a new level. And it doesn't always involve this guy I used to work with. Stuff like that is mild compared to other stuff I've heard and seen.

Remember the post about Jed? Virtually everyone knows that he's a cokehead (and a drunk, many of his stories involve drunkenness and/or hard drugs) and it's not like he tries hard to hide it either, as he often beings stories with "I was snorting some coke one night..." or "I was smoking a joint..."

Last week while he was managing I was chatting with the hostess (not The Hostess, just the hostess that works here) just before closing. Jed approaches me and asks quietly, "Dan-E, quick yes or no: do you have $40 I can borrow until tomorrow?" I do a quick mental inventory: I have $7 in my wallet and I all my customers paid with credit cards. No. "Okay thanks."

Two days later, it's again almost closing. I drop off some empty glasses in the kitchen and as I walk back to my tables, Jed comes up behind me. "Hey Dan-E, do you have a dollar bill I can borrow?" Not one dollar. A dollar bill. "Let me check." I grab my wallet and open it up. I have four singles. I hand one over and his face lights up. "Thanks, brother." "Any time. Just... I don't need to know what you're going to do with it." He laughs and walks off.

Two days ago, the GM tells us during pre-shift how he found a straw upstairs and Antonio found an empty baggy somewhere else on the floor. I was upstairs doing my paperwork when he found the straw under the napkins. I knew right when he picked it up what it was. There's drink straws and there's those skinny cocktail straws. This thing was cut down to about the size of an average pinky. I guess my reputation as a clean-cut guy reached the higher-ups since he never once questioned me. I wasn't there when the baggy was found.

The GM went into this spiel about "what you do at your time is your business but here at work..." but I tuned out and started trying to figure out whom it might be. Jed was too obvious. There were a few others but I wasn't sure. Either way, I found the whole thing incredibly amusing. I wasn't the only one since the moment the managers got out of earshot we started joking about it. "Didn't Jed have the night off?" Hey Todd, stop leaving your shit all over the floor." I chimed in, "next time one of you guys drop a bag, make sure you leave something, alright?" Everyone laughs. "You know the only reason they're mad is because you're not sharing and they probably needed a bump."

It was funny. Not so much that I'm hilarious or anything but because that last sentence just might be true.

Labels: drugs, server stories, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:11 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: The Replacements ::

"I look at you and I see two men: the man you are and the man you ought to be... "
- Gene Hackman from "The Replacements"

You wouldn't think that some cheesy line from a "so-bad-it's-good" football flick would mean much. I was flipping channels after "SportsCenter" and "The Replacements" happened to be on. I've seen it before but it's one of those films that I'll watch till the end if I run across it. You've probably never watched (because you have a life) it but it's worth watching just for the sheer Unintentional Comedy throughout the whole flick.

There's Keanu Reeves, who's shockingly effective as the quarterback There John Favreau playing the psychotic adrenaline junkie defensive back (you occasionally see him with a "wait, I was in the movie 'Swingers' and now I'm doing this?" look on his face). There's Gene Hackman mailing it in shouting clichés with a "wait I was the start of 'Hoosiers' once, wasn't I?" look on his face. And my favorite character was the lovely Brooke Langton as the head cheerleader/love interest/Wonderbra spokesperson whose previous claim to fame was one of Billy's girlfriends on "Melrose Place" (yes, I recalled that from memory and no, I'm not ashamed). Just so we're clear, her character is a single, cute, kindhearted, head NFL cheerleader who, by the way, owns her own bar. I mentioned she's single, right? Because this happens all the time.

John Madden and Pat Summerall providing commentary (including one train wreck of a scene where Keanu finally makes a move on Brooke. The Police's "Every Breath You Take" is playing while Madden and Summerall provide commentary like Shane is trying to get into the end zone. I'm not making this up.)

I could go into the plot but it's your standard predictable sports movie with a happy ending, and I AM somewhat ashamed to admit, the ending gave me chills. Just like a good bad sports flick should.

Labels: boobs, football, movie, NaBloPoMo, reviews, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:39 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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