Comments(2) In my life, there’s been only one man who has ever make me seriously consider becoming a registered Republican.
Today, he just saved me the trouble.
Thank you, Senator Specter. And yes, you have my vote next spring.
Comments(1) It’s been a while since I sat down with the microphone, but I guess it’s like riding a bike…
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Comments(1) As the New York Times reported a couple of months ago, those voluminous, fluffy rolls of toilet paper that provide such a delightful addition to powder rooms across the land are wreaking havoc on the environment. One of my favorite cartoonists, Carol Lay, seemed to share my wry chagrin upon discovering (courtesy of a new Greenpeace public awareness campaign) that Prince Charmin, despite the seemingly happy end-ing, is actually something of an evil villain.
You see, I’ve been in cahoots with the ultra-quilted stuff for quite some time now.
It wasn’t always so. For years, I used to pick up the cheapest single-ply rolls at the supermarket. The puffy premium paper seemed expensive and indulgent. Then I got a day job where the thin and scratchy tissue was omnipresent; I noticed when I visited friends’ homes that their frou-frou poo-poo paper created an aura of civilized domesticity…and indulgence. It whispered, “You’re far, far away from The Man now.” To wit:
John Wayne TP = Work
Poufy paper = Home Sweet Throne.
But the trees keep falling in the old-growth forests, and my guilty conscience is hearing them. Now I’m in the midst of trying out various different brands of recycled toilet tissue, searching for one which manages to achieve that elusive blend of utility, economy, comfort and…um, reliability.
The other day, I brought home some rolls of Marcal Small Steps toilet paper. To ward off any possible institutional-supply-closet vibe, Marcal has embossed the sheets with heart shapes from end to end. While I certainly don’t feel like I’m at the office when I’m using it, the relentlessly cheery motif makes me wonder if Sigmund Freud is lurking around the corner, dressed up as Barney the Dinosaur.
For the time being, I’ve settled for a two-state solution, granting clemency to the many rolls of ultra-foof already tucked away in my storage closet. 100% recycled for most everyday needs, with a roll of pure puff handy for those special occasions. When all is said and done, the end justifies the means.
Comments(1) I know, I know, it’s been getting very sparse around here with the posting. I’ve been spending the past several months running around a lot, both figuratively and literally.
I ran my first 10K event a little over a week ago, and managed to come in under the time goal I had set for myself. However, there’s been no time to rest on my laurels, my heels, my keister, or anything else — in less than a month, I’ll be participating in the 2009 Broad Street Run, Philly’s uniquely festive 10-mile race.
As a result, I’ve been trying to steadily increase my training mileage. This past weekend, I was in Washington DC visiting friends over the weekend after attending an all-day training session on Friday. I needed to get in a “long run,” something with enough distance and duration to keep moving my race preparation forward. Which is how I found myself repeatedly dodging other tourists while steadily turtling my way around the heart of our nation’s capital.
I started at the eastern end of the National Mall and chugged westward along the soupy gravel path that had been soaked by a morning full of rain. My improvised route passed one landmark after another:
Having already logged more than a full 10K by the time I approached the halls of Congress, I’ve never been more keenly aware that Capitol Hill is, in fact, a hill. But it provided a helpful little push once I made my way around the far end, propelling me back out to the Mall, where I continued until I came to rest under the lantern that hangs in the front archway of the Smithsonian “castle”.
What better way to see a city teeming with elected officials than to get out and run, run, run?
Comments(0) (from an IM exchange earlier today between me an a friend in Austin, TX)
Me: OMG, I’m just reading about Leonard Nimoy
Showing up at the Alamo Drafthouse!
Friend: man, I so wish I had been there.
I heard about it first thing next morning, of course.
Me: It must have been completely wicked
Friend: I would have plotzed
Me: I bet half the room needed oxygen
Friend: And the other half needed a fresh pair of pants.
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