Commuting Like It’s 1999

This morning as I hopped into my souped up, crime-fighting 2002 VW Golf for the daily commute to my undercover job as a corporate drone, I performed the usual pre-flight routines.

  1. Stainless steel travel mug filled with Guayaki Greener Green Tea? Check
  2. Laptop? Check
  3. Prescription eyeglasses with polarized sunglass attachment? Check
  4. iPod? …
  5. iPod?? …
  6. iPod!!!!??? …
  7. Noooooooooooo!

Yep, my iPod died in my hands. Well, not died as in dead, but died as in it seemed to be working but showed that I had 0 songs instead of my roughly ~3500. I quickly ran inside and tried to perform a restore from my iTunes. Success! Now, let’s just wait for it to sync everything back up.

5 minutes later: “copying 568 of 3487 songs”

It quickly became apparent that this was going to take longer than the -10 minutes I had to wait before I was even later for work. So, I had to steel myself to the fact that I would have to drive both legs of my commute without my lifeline, my sanity-saver, my lovely iPod.

Yeah, it was pretty horrible. But, I made it in this morning with my wits about me. We’ll see how the horrid Atlanta Friday 6pm commute goes. I might not make it. Say a little prayer for me.

And now, for no reason whatsoever, is me and Charlie playing soccer:


I was driving through an area of Atlanta called Morningside today. I was on a street called Monroe when I passed a sign that I doubt you’ll normally find in that area: Blasting Zone.

I uncontrollably hit the accelerator a little harder after seeing that.

Florida Chips

The wife and I went down to Florida recently for 4th of July festivities at my parent’s house. While we were there, we took in a day of outlet store shopping and found some good deals. For lunch, we stopped at a chain sandwich shop in one of those outdoor malls that you see popping up everywhere these days. We were finishing up our meal when I grabbed my wife’s tray to go empty it in the trash. She snatched her unopened bag of potato chips off the tray and said, “don’t throw this away, it’s a perfectly good bag of chips.” I remember thinking that there’s no way either of us will eat those chips.

I just opened up the lunch that my wife made for me last night. It consists of: a turkey sandwich, strawberry yogurt, m&m’s and that bag of chips from Florida.

Nice work, honey. Waste not want not.

Unique Thanksgiving

In a bizarre turn of events, the wife and I are getting ready to head out to Los Angeles (L.A., la la land, the left coast, land of a thousand, oh, whatever, you get it) tomorrow for one of the most unique Thanksgiving celebrations ever. We’re meeting parents of Tim and sister of Tim to have Thanksgiving dinner with, who many people consider to be, indie rock royalty.

We’re staying at the Roosevelt hotel (and hopefully in this room) for about 5 days and are going to soak up the sun and breathe in the smog for what will be Tim’s second visit to L.A. My first visit left a bad taste in my mouth (i’m looking at you, smog), so let’s hope this one will reveal the charms of this fair city and erase my memories of L.A. being one giant, crowded, dirty strip mall.

Why are we celebrating this holiday with said royalty? Well, in what is even a bizarrer (word?) case and happened to be the crescendo of the craziest year ever for sister of Tim, sister of Tim now works for Mrs. Hersh and family and is a full-time resident of the city of angels.

I think it’s safe to say this is going to be the most unique Thanksgiving ever for Tim. I hope you have a happy and safe holiday as well.


Just got back from the bachelor party weekend. Words cannot describe how tired I am. Our Saturday fishing trip got postponed to Sunday because of Tropical Storm Hannah. So, we woke up at 6am on Sunday, went deep sea fishing for 8 hours, then jumped in our cars and drove 5.5 hours back home, sunburned and smelling of raw fish. I then fell asleep soon after watching the season premiere of the Sopranos. It was a full day.

Happy July 4th

Okay, so the wife and I went down to FL this past weekend for the 4th celebration and to see the parents. The high and low light of the weekend was the July 4th fireworks extravaganza in Destin harbor. Let me explain.

Every July 4th my parents go out on a chartered boat into the Destin harbor to watch the fireworks display. It’s really a lot of fun. There are thousands of people, some really cool-looking boats (I even saw 2 pirate ships complete with a mock cannonball war) and plenty of food and drink to keep you occupied. The fireworks were truly amazing as well—the best I’ve seen in a long time. It really had all the makings of a pleasant evening on the water. Now, on to the lowlight.

My annoyance can be pinpointed to a small loudspeaker bolted to the side of the charter boat. This thing blared the most awful sounds I could possibly imagine and at a volume that nearly caused my ears to abandon ship. For some reason, the captain thought his guests would enjoy hearing the marginal hits of the late 80’s as musical accompaniment for the evening.

I seriously heard some of the worst songs of my life on this boat. Songs I thought I would never have to hear again. Songs such as “Addicted to Love” by Robert Palmer. Songs that I don’t even know the name of, but trust me, they were bad. Real bad. And then, out of left field would come “Whip It” by Devo. Whip It? WTF? How does that fit into the mix? Don’t get me wrong, I like Devo, but that is not the most soothing sound to come out of a 3-inch tweeter at full volume.

And that’s another thing, the way this guy had his music “wired” to the speaker was brilliant. He had his little radio thing, the one he uses to make announcements on the boat and to talk to the Coast Guard, rubber-banded so it would stay on and then placed right up to the speaker of a boom box! Way to go, dude. That has to be the most hi-fidelity way to present music.

I know this sounds bad, but it was about to get a lot worse. The fireworks were ready to start, so the captain decided to tune in to the live radio broadcast from the fireworks people. It was a “program” of songs that they thought would go best with their visual display and get you in the right patriotic mood. A post-Sept. 11th patriotic mood, mind you. Songs such as “Proud to be an American” interspersed with clips of Bush speeches denouncing terror and vague pronouncements that “we will win”. Win? Win what? I half expected to see an over-sized Osama puppet hauled out into the harbor on a barge and lit on fire as jet fighters screamed overhead. Ugh.

What made me mad about this display was the fact that I was practically being told exactly how I was supposed to feel about my country on July 4th. Instead of being able to quietly reflect on what living in this country means to me, I was supposed to jump up and scream, “Hell yeah, terror will not stand! We’re right! You’re wrong! America means never having to apologize for our god-given right to do whatever we damn well please! And, by the way, Buck Fin Laden!”

Thanks for ruining my July 4th holiday, captain Wayne.

Okay, I think I’m done.
(tim quietly steps down from his soapbox as the rich vermilion tone of his face fades to pasty white)