GatorDVG: I didn’t know Elton John was gay until like 2002.
a.friend: well, i can see that. I mean in the ’70s (when I was listening to him) he was considered cool rock and roll
a.friend: still kinda is, just the gay thing never came up
GatorDVG: I just thought the Donald Duck costume was him being kooky.
a.friend: so did everyone else…sort of like David Bowie
GatorDVG: wait
GatorDVG: David Bowie is gay?
GatorDVG: are you serious??
a.friend: u said that like you were a kid who just found out about the Easter Bunny
GatorDVG: dude
GatorDVG: come on
GatorDVG: really?
a.friend: really

The awe-inspiring Jennifer A. Gagne, my little sister, is en route to Alaska with her friend, Alicia. They are going to work for the Summer as rangers at Denali National Park. How friggin’ cool is that? (They’ve created a website to record their travels, of course.)

When the barista at Starbucks handed me my coffee this morning, the hole in the lid was directly over the seam in the cup. This, I have come to learn, is a recipe for disaster. If the hole is within a centimeter of the seam you are almost guaranteed to experience “coffee drip” on your shirt. Walking into the office with a coffee stain in the middle of your shirt is a rotten way to start a Monday.

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Looking for a list of the typical PTO dates for 2008? Yeah, I was, too. Here it is.
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Congratulations to my little sister-in-law! Last night she was named the State of Florida’s 2008-2009 Seminole County Teacher of the Year!

For lunch today a few of us walked next door to the new Brazilian restaurant that opened this week. It is literally in the building next to my office, so the bar at The Sampa Grill was the absolute closest place we could go to watch the second round of the Masters. The style is Churrasco, which basically means a tremendous amount of fire-cooked meat. I had pork, chicken, some sausage, and three different flavors of beer beef (typo!). I also had a salad and a bowl of soup. Even though the food was fantastic and all-you-can-eat, at $22 (including a Coke and the tip) it’s a bit pricey to become a lunch-hour standard for us. But it was definitely a nice Friday afternoon treat. Too bad Tiger didn’t seem to be doing so well.

I jumped on the Twitter bandwagon when someone mentioned it to me at SXSW2006, but immediately forgot all about it. I’m starting just now to pay attention to it. It’s nifty. What are you doing now?

On Saturday night Kelly and I played in a “Nite Lite” golf tournament at Porter Valley. One word: Awesomeness. The format was a Texas Scramble, which basically means everyone hits a ball and then decides who had the best shot. Then everyone hits from there as if that was his shot. We got to use two or three of my drives and several of my other shots, so that was heartening. The sun was gone from the sky by the time we started the back nine and it was just about pitch black, so we had glow-in-the-dark balls and neon necklaces and little glowing ropes on the carts. It’s quite amazing that nobody was killed.

Because there were so many groups we started on the 5th tee. Every fourth or fifth hole had a theme. The first tee was margaritas and fajitas and tacos. The fifth was ribs, chicken, and rum drinks, etc. The best was probably the 10th hole, with chocolate brownies, scotch, and cigars and coffee. One of the holes was cheese and crackers and wine. Our last hole was, if I remember correctly, fourteen; we finished the night with Italian sausages and beer. This was not an evening for the intestinally weak. Lots of photos, of course, posted to Flickr.

Right around 11 o’clock on the night of Sunday, March 16^th, is when my dad and I realized that our iPods had been stolen from our hotel room at the Tropicana in Las Vegas. My dad had left his charging on the bathroom counter and mine had been in the zippered front pocket of my bookbag with my headphones wrapped around it. We both knew immediately that they had to have been stolen, but we still tore the room apart looking for them. And we went down to the rental car and inspected every inch of it. It was laughable, of course. If you know me at all, you know I am absolutely psychotic about losing things.

After about an hour of searching, my dad was ready to go to bed. He had shot a 95 at Desert Pines that morning — his best round ever and first time to break 100! — and knew there was little chance that hotel security was going to care and / or help us at all. I was so angry I couldn’t see straight.
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A year or two ago I was returning to my office from lunch with some co-workers. I spotted an old, rusty, razor blade on the sidewalk. “You don’t see that every day,” I said. In retrospect I was probably wrong. Everyone likely sees dozens of rusty razor blades on sidewalks and in gutters every day. We just don’t notice them. That’s not the point. The point is that I told my friend, Jon, that it would make a good domain name. “You should register rustyrazorblade.com,” I said. And he did. Now, if you’re looking for an esoteric, complicated, intense Apache and / or MySQL resource, it’s the place to go. True story.

Last night I finished reading When the Mob Ran Vegas, a great book that I grabbed at the McCarran Airport on my last trip to Sin City. At times the book suffers from some pretty poor grammar and editing, but the stories are so fascinating that you can forgive the author’s quirky, personal style. Plus, I mean, the guy has got to have a contract on his head; there are dozens of personal anecdotes involving organized crime and its perpetrators, and he really lays the lumber to Sinatra a few times. My mom’s side of the family is 100% Italian — the old school Rhode Island kind <wink wink> — so I recognized pretty much all the characters. (Tales of “the Family” were frequent dinner conversation at my house when I was a kid.) I really enjoyed reading about all the connections to Hollywood and the movie industry, too. If you order a copy from the author’s website, he’ll send you an autographed copy.

I am amazed that Paper Denim & Cloth doesn’t have its own website. I have searched Google and cannot find any authoritative site for the company. How strange. You’re selling $200 pairs of jeans and you don’t have a website?

Anyway. I was pretty proud of myself for snagging a brand new pair of PD&C on eBay for only $35. The original price tag showed that they were retailing for $198.00, so I felt like I made a steal. But then it was pretty funny when I wore them to work today and found another, handwritten, price tag stuffed in the pocket.

Good Will $6.99

My dad and I met in Vegas for a weekend of golfing after I visited the huge Con/Agg convention with Kelly and Bill. We stayed at The Tropicana, a classic Vegas hotel that has fallen on hard times. The place is just a wreck. Every night and every morning there was trash in the hallways, bits of paper, candy bar wrappers, ashtrays (on our no smoking floor). Someone had smashed the glass fire extinguisher box near the elevators and there was broken glass on the floor this morning. It was really just pathetic. The safe in our room’s closet was malfunctioning so if I wanted to stash any valuables I was out of luck.

In a decent hotel you’d expect the maid service to do several standard things: replace the towels, toilet paper, Kleenex, and used toiletries (shampoo, conditioner, soap), make the beds, and throw the trash. I’ve been traveling a sick amount in the last six to ten years and I’ve gotten accustomed to getting at least those things done. Not at the Trop. They made the beds. That’s it. No new towels, no shampoo, no soap, trash wasn’t thrown … you get the idea. My dad and I both have pretty short hair, so it wasn’t until Sunday night that we had to call the front desk — press zero on the phone, all of the special phone buttons like bellhop, room service, security, etc. were inoperable — to request more shampoo. And that is when we realized that both of our iPods had been stolen.

His 30GB and my 60GB (with my favorite Sony headphones) were jacked from room 559 at some point between about 6pm and midnight on Saturday. I know it was between those hours because that was the only time period in which my laptop bookbag — where I had stashed my iPod — was not locked in the trunk of dad’s rental car. We took our laptops and stuff like that with us when we went golfing, and left them locked in the car when we were away from the hotel room. Sucks.
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If you’re looking for the best fish and chips in Los Angeles, head to The Gardens on Glendon. Tricia and I had dinner last night at this little place in Westwood — basically on the UCLA campus — and the simple fried cod and shoestring potatoes dish once again shocked me with its awesomosity. Yes, it’s a $24 entree and yes, everything at the restaurant is magnificently overpriced, but I’ve had fish and chips from one side of America to the other (and in London, too) and theirs is the best. (You can get the exact same dish at their sister restaurant, Kate Mantilini’s.)
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On Sunday I ran the XXIII^rd Los Angeles Marathon. My goal was to beat my time from last year, when I ran it in about four hours and forty-five minutes. Unfortunately I was felled by a wicked flu bug about two weeks ago which knocked me on my ass for a while. I didn’t start training until the end of January and taking a forced ten-day break right before the race didn’t help. I managed to murderize the 26.2 miles in 5:40, about an hour worse than last year (but about ten minutes better than two years ago). I swore that this would be my last one, but I can’t live with that time, so it looks like I’ll be back for 2009 …