Dan Snyder drops his lawsuit

I almost missed this in all the 9/11 anniversary coverage, but this weekend Dan Snyder dropped his defamation lawsuit against the City Paper.

Since I'm a college football guy, I don't ever get into the Redskins, but it's been fascinating following this particular story since it broke. What I've found the most intriguing is the amount of people who have sided with the City Paper in all this, and have contributed to their legal fund against Snyder. The City Paper released a statement today addressing that very thing, also noting that the legal fight has cost them financially.

Personally, I'm pleased that the lawsuit was dropped, though part of me really isn't surprised by the fact that it came into being in the first place. Anyone remember the pants lawsuit from a few years back?

An earthquake . . . in DC!

Yesterday afternoon, I experienced something that I never expected to, at least not on the east coast: an earthquake!

Close to 2:00 in the afternoon, I felt the office building I work in begin to shake a little bit. My first thought was a large truck passing by, because that's not an uncommon thing in Bethesda, and that the shaking would subside quickly enough. It did begin to subside momentarily, but then began to tremble much harder—enough that walls and windows in the office began to vibrate loudly. Since this was rather unusual, I stood up in my office cube and looked out some nearby windows, wondering if there had been some kind of large accident nearby. Gradually the trembling subsided, and without any reference to draw from, I began to wonder, "Did I just feel an earthquake?"

Other co-workers who sit near me were coming out into the hallway, looking as equally perplexed, and some of us even asked each other, "Was that an earthquake?"

I looked online really quickly, checking Facebook, CNN, and the Washington Post, and there was nothing on the news websites. Facebook, on the other hand, was starting to crop up with posts like, "I just felt an earthquake!" or "What the hell was that?" I thought of texting Nora telling her, with some humorous astonishment, that I had just felt an earthquake. She surprised me by texting me first, with essentially the same message! What surprised me, though, was that Nora and I live out near Dulles, and I sort of expected this particular quake to be somewhat localized to suburban Maryland. A quick check of Facebook again showed that people from Pennsylvania all the way down to North Carolina were posting about an earthquake! This was probably the first moment where I felt unsettled, because I didn't think an earthquake, even a big one, could be felt across several states like this.

A few minutes later, an announcement came over our PA system that we should leave the building and meet in our designated fire safety area outside. My initial response was laughter, simply because the event was over, though I could tell some co-workers were a bit jarred by the experience.

As I made my way outside, I overheard some people saying it was a 5.8, which I always thought was pretty big—especially for this area. The last earthquake for this area was about a year before this, when one hit in the early hours of the morning, and registered maybe only a 2 or 3 on the Richter Scale, max. So a 5.8 was definitely unusual for this area. We stayed outside for maybe 10 minutes before the all-clear was given to go back inside, but I did notice that many people (people who work in nearby buildings, that is) were getting into their cars and leaving.

Things seemed to return to normal once we went back inside, though Facebook and the news websites were on fire with the story.

All things considered, though, I made it through this okay, as did everyone else. I guess now I know what people in California go through on a more regular basis!

Nothing is sacred anymore (XII)

Last night I was watching a DVD of The Muppet Show, and this particular skit caught my eye.



At first I thought it was kind of cute seeing Link Hogthrob, a Muppet pig, holding a real pig. But for some reason, him singing "Sonny Boy" to it felt a little creepy. Though he missed a golden opportunity to make a "bringing home the bacon" joke! Perhaps the "you might be a football" joke was deemed sufficient enough by the Muppet writers?

A most unusual start to July

So July got off to an unusual start, all things considered. It began like any other month, and the original plans had been quite simple: the first full week would be just another week (only one workday shorter because of 4th of July), and Nora and I planned to celebrate our three-year dating anniversary on the 6th. But on Tuesday, July 5, things took an unexpected turn.

For close to a week beforehand, I had been having various abdominal pains. I didn't quite know what was causing them, though I theorized (and you'll forgive me for being graphic going forward) that I might be constipated. It didn't help that I'd eaten a lot of crap since Friday, July 1: a catered dinner at our friends Ashley and Billy's wedding rehearsal, drinks and lots of fatty appetizers later that same evening, lunch at a Front Royal pizzeria the next day (though I had a meatball sandwich rather than pizza), another catered dinner at Ashley and Billy's wedding—and for our denouement, chili half-smokes and cheese fries at Nationals Park on Monday. And for my second denouement, two Georgetown Cupcakes on Tuesday, July 5, around lunchtime.

This led to some pretty hefty abdominal cramping on Tuesday right after lunch (though that morning I woke up feeling a tiny bit nauseous, which passed in relatively short order)—enough to make me consider skipping a doctor appointment I'd scheduled for later that week and instead opting right for the emergency room.

So I left work early and drove to the Reston ER, where they ran some tests and told me I had pancreatitis, which is basically inflammation of the pancreas. A possible cause mentioned was gallstones, which meant that my gallbladder might have to be removed. After they consulted with my primary care doctor, I was transferred to Inova Alexandria for hospitalization and observation.

Suffice it to say, I was rather nervous, because the last time I had been a hospital patient was when I was nine years old (bike accident), and I wasn't keen on the idea of having a body part removed, even a redundant one like the gallbladder.

Nora and I arrived at Inova Alexandria around 9:00 that evening, and I was up in my hospital room maybe an hour later. I was informed that I might have an ultrasound overnight, and that a doctor would speak to me in the morning about my test results. I went to bed around 11:00, and the rest of the night was not your typical night: at 1:30 am, I was awakened by a nurse who asked about my diet and informed me that an ultrasound would take place in another hour; at 2:30 am, I was awakened again to be taken downstairs for my ultrasound, which lasted until close to 4:00 am; at 5:30, I was awakened to have blood drawn, and sometime between 7:30 and 8:00 on July 6, I woke up to start the day.

My breakfast consisted of a full liquid diet—hot chicken broth, Jell-O, and cranberry juice. The IV I had been hooked up to since the night before kept me nice and hydrated, though it had two uncomfortable side effects: 1) it increased my blood pressure a bit more than I liked, and 2) I was visiting the men's room every 10 minutes—and carrying with me the IV hookup on wheels. I liked to use the analogy that it was like constantly walking the dog . . . though a dog that only went where it wanted to go.

I nervously waited throughout the morning for the doctor to come and speak to me, and he came shortly after lunch. He went over my test results, though I wasn't as comforted as I'd hoped to be, primarily because tests didn't find a cause for my pancreatitis. The ultrasound showed no gallstones, which itself was good news (because it meant that no body parts needed removing), but it didn't bring us any closer to finding the cause. Though various pancreatic enzymes were currently down to more normal levels after being highly elevated upon admission to the Reston ER, which was good news.

After talking at length with my doctor, the prevailing theory was this: even though gallstones didn't show up on the ultrasound, it was possible that I had some beforehand that passed from my system before coming to the ER; these gallstones could in turn could have caused a blockage in my pancreas, which would have caused the inflammation. The treatment was simply that the inflammation had to run its course, but to help it along, I'd have to adhere to a low-fat diet for a while (or at least after I returned to eating solid food). The doctor wanted me to stay one more night for observation, and if I showed progress (or at least didn't worsen), I could be released the following day.

Nora arrived at the hospital shortly after my visit with the doctor, and with July 6 being our three-year anniversary, we got to celebrate not with candles and wine but with two distinctly different hospital meals: pork, gravy, cooked potatoes, and steamed broccoli for Nora; chicken broth, Jell-O, and cranberry juice for me. Not my ideal celebration, but it did the trick. :) I got a new roommate that day, too: a very nice gentleman from Virginia Beach (I think his name was Bill) who had an equally nice family (his wife and adult daughter, who looked remarkably like a co-worker). I also had a visitor: Will, who came by late in the day bearing the gift of ginger ale.

By Thursday, my abdomen was still somewhat sore, but hadn't worsened any. According to the doctor, I would be feeling residual abdominal pain until the inflammation went away completely. He used the analogy of a sprained ankle—that it would still smart for a few days, even though the ankle was healing. With that in mind, the doctor was comfortable with the possibility of me going home that day. Which was fine with me, because going home is always a great feeling. (Plus, I had not one but two wailing patients near my room who were causing trouble with the nurses.) To test the waters of wellness, my doctor upped my diet from pure liquid to some possible solid foods. I was given cream of wheat at breakfast, and I think it was lunch that they went the full monty and allowed me to have pasta with red sauce, accompanied by cooked asparagus. My abdomen reacted well on all occasions, and by 6:30 that night, I was officially discharged from the hospital.

I was very happy to be home (and also to have the IV hookup removed from my hand!), and the first order of business was a nice, long shower. In all fairness, I probably didn't smell too good from not showering for two days. ;) But I've been eating a lot more fruits and veggies since then, have dropped about six or seven pounds (the liquid diet probably had a lot to do with that), and generally feel well. Once in a while my abdomen might protest slightly if I eat something naughty, but overall the pains have subsided, which is a huge relief.

Like I said, an unexpected way to start July.

Borders is closing

This is truly a sad day, because I first heard the news this morning on the radio that my favorite bookstore, Borders, is closing its doors for good.

I've spent many a good day at Borders browsing through their aisles, looking at books, movies, and music. My favorite Borders of all time was at 18th and L in Northwest DC, near where I used to work. Almost every day from late 2000 to spring of 2002, I would venture over to that Borders on my lunch break, walk down the stairs to the basement section, and browse through the Stephen King section of books and then make my way over to the classical music CDs, walking my fingers through cases of Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Wagner, and Chopin. I even had one or two dates at that store, back in my courtship days.

But that Borders closed for good recently when the company announced it was closing many of its stores as a cost-cutting measure. The last time I went into that particular Borders was in late August of 2008. I had just taken a trip to Ben's Chili Bowl and was on walkabout through downtown DC, visiting several of my old haunts—this Borders included. And it saddens me to think that a place that once brought me such joy and peace is no more.

My second favorite Borders has to be the one in Pentagon City, which was within walking distance of Riverhouse. This Borders, while not as fancy as the one on 18th and L, served its purpose well, and I fondly remember the days when that particular outlet was much bigger (it used to encompass a large amount of retail space before being downsized). Other favorites included the Borders in Woodbridge and Springfield, but the most rockin' Borders had to be the three-story Borders at White Flint Mall. (Three stories? How could it not be awesome?)

If asked why I prefer Borders to Barnes & Noble, I honestly couldn't tell you. There are certain outlets of Barnes & Noble that I hold near and dear to me as well, but overall, Borders had a more concrete place in my heart, and I will dearly miss this bookstore when it closes up for good.

Thank you for the memories, Borders. I'll miss you much!

The one time a William Shatner cover worked!

I heard Elton John's Rocket Man on the radio this morning on the way in to work, and I couldn't help but think of this--the one time that a William Shatner cover worked!

Is Johnny Cash rolling in his grave?

After retiring from acting, Joaquin Phoenix seems to be making a rather unexpected career change: he wants to try his hand at rapping. Call me cynical, but I can't see him doing a transition from Johnny Cash (whom he was fabulous as in Walk the Line) to the likes of Eminem. And if his career as a rapper falls through, I'd hate to have to see him crawl back to acting with his tail between his legs (is that the crawl of shame, maybe?).

Personally, I think he should have remained in acting, because he had proven himself quite worthy, and was capable of great accomplishments.

Every second counts?

It appears that leap years aren't enough, because now we're dealing with leap seconds:

Along with the economy, the Earth itself is slowing down, requiring timekeepers to add an extra second to their atomic clocks to keep in sync with Earth's slightly slowing rotation. So an extra second will be tacked on to Dec. 31 after 6:59:59 p.m. and before 7 p.m. Eastern Standard Time.

This is actually the first I've ever heard of such a scheme, though apparently it started being implemented sporadically in 1972. Somehow I doubt a lot of people are going to take notice of this, because it's not as noticeable as, say, turning the clocks ahead an hour.

Hey, Mr. Pants Man, play a song for me!

I almost couldn't believe it when I heard it, but Roy Pearson, the DC administrative law judge who sued a family-owned dry cleaning business a few years back over a lost pair of pants (to the tune of $54 million, I might add!), is trying once again to appeal his overturned case. And his rationale for appealing the case is just laughable.

"This is not about a pair of suit pants," Pearson, representing himself, told a three-judge panel of the D.C. Court of Appeals. The term "satisfaction guaranteed" is "very subjective" and with "no parameters at all," he complained, accusing the cleaners of fraud.

Fraud? That's seriously a stretch to say that a dissatisfied customer is the victim of fraud. Like everyone else in this world, I've already had times where I've been unsatisfied with some service or some store, but having worked in customer service already, I know just how demanding and unreasonable some customers can be. And Mr. Pearson isn't doing the customer any justice (no pun intended) with this venture. My rationale is, if you're unhappy with a service or a store, just don't go back there. There's no need to let your ego get so entangled with your dissatisfaction.

Having said that, I repeat my earlier advice to Mr. Pearson: give it up, dude. You've already made yourself an irreparable laughingstock with this most frivolous of lawsuits, and you've succeeded in taking the Chungs down with you, since they've opted to close down their business. Really, what more do you want?

To paraphrase Steve Buscemi . . . do you see this? It's the world smallest violin playing just for a pair of pants.

No more salisbury steak!

Okay, enough already! It's bad enough that Bernie Mac dies too young at the age of 50, but now Isaac Hayes, too? This is getting ridiculous, people! Enough with the celebrities dying!

I have to admit, it really hit me hard to learn of Bernie Mac's death, not only because he was a great actor and comedian, but because 50 is far too young for a man to die. I hadn't even known about his respiratory ailments that afflicted him until now. Watching Friday and Ocean's Eleven won't be the same after this. And I have to wonder, with Isaac Hayes now gone, who's going to voice Chef on South Park and sing about making sweet sweet love?

Not yet a hypocrite

Well, I've managed to stave off my hypocrisy for at least one more week. Why do I say that? Because for the longest time, I've been loudly proclaiming that I wouldn't pay $4 a gallon for a tank of gas . . . but with gas prices skyrocketing and price records broken every single day, I'm nearing the point where I either have to stick to my guns and switch to Metro for my daily commute (not exactly an option I relish), or I embrace my hypocrisy head-on and gas up at $4 or more a gallon.

And like I said, tonight I managed to stave off that hypocrisy for at least one more week, because I gassed up for $3.97 a gallon on the corner of Glebe Road and Columbia Pike in Arlington. It's one of only two stations I know of in Arlington County that's selling at less than $4 a gallon (the other being further up Columbia Pike, right next to the Bob & Edith's), and in the interests of conserving money, I've already reduced my vehicular travel as much as possible. I almost never travel up to PA anymore, and whenever I have to drive anywhere, I combine trips (e.g., shopping trips). And if something is within 2 miles of my apartment (like Giant), I'll walk there and back—and get great exercise in the process.

It's the commute into work that gets me, though, because taking the Metro from Pentagon City up to Bethesda is a real bear.

I don't think I need to explain to anyone who lives in the DC region how insane the Red Line is during rush hour, and how crammed those rail cars can get with harried, impatient commuters. Door to door, it takes me an hour if I ride Metro, maybe a little more. If I drive, it's actually a much smoother ride, because all I need to do is ride up GW Parkway to the Beltway, and catch a few back roads into Bethesda, with little to no traffic holdups at all (except for around the Pentagon and Key Bridge). Door to door, 35-40 minutes of smooth sailing on a clear day. Really, it's probably the easiest driving commute I'll ever have living in this region—short of ever getting a job that's within walking distance of my home.

So there are my options: take the nerve-wracking Metro commute and save greatly on gas money (as I'll have essentially eliminated all driving from my routine, thus giving a proud "fuck you" to the oil companies), or continue to drive the easygoing commute and use up overpriced gas.

All things considered, this is not an easy choice to make.

There will be carpools

With all the fears lately of gas rising to $4 a gallon, I'm finally starting to see various brands breaking the $4 threshold.

On my into work the other day, I noticed that two gas stations on Bradlee Blvd. in Bethesda had both premium and plus at just over $4. The price for regular unleaded at both stations held steady at $3.85, but when the plus grade starts to break $4, that's when I start to worry, because that means regular won't be too far off.

I don't know about you, but I flat-out refuse to pay $4 a gallon for gas. Having said that, I'm already taking various steps to save on gas. To wit, when I do groceries now, I walk the mile and a half from Riverhouse to the Giant on Glebe Road, or I walk across the street to Harris Teeter (I'd shop there all the time, actually, except that it's naturally far more expensive than Giant). With all that walking, not only am I saving gas, but I'm also getting some much-needed exercise.

Working from that plan, the only times I'll be getting behind the wheel of my car will be to go to work . . . though I'm wrestling with the dilemma that that presents, because I live right next to the Pentagon City Metro station, and I work five or six blocks south of the Bethesda Metro station. Believe it or not, it takes far less time to drive to work, and the drive up and down GW Parkway each day is quite manageable. If I took Metro, though, I'd have to contend with overcrowded trains, a circus of commuters at the Gallery Place transfer stop, then have to brave the commuting disaster known as the Red Line up to Bethesda (and I say "brave" because you have to have balls of steel to commute on the notoriously disastrous Red Line each day; God only knows how I did it for a year).

So with gas prices ever on the increase, I find myself in a Catch-22 with respect to commuting to work: I either drive and use up overpriced gas; or I take Metro, save the gas, but endure commuting headaches. A tough decision to make, in any case.

More on Murky Coffee

The Post finally got around to reporting on the Murky Coffee situation, and apparently the financial distress of the store was worse than we were initially led to believe. Apparently it extended to back rent and the owner constantly missing payments. Though I find his justification rather ham-handed.

While conceding that he has been irresponsible, Cho chalked up the tax bill to "poor cash flow management." He disputes the tax office's assessment of what he owes, estimating it at about $200,000. And he said he also owes Virginia about $20,000 for sales tax at his Clarendon shop.

"In a nutshell, we've gained a pretty good reputation for our coffee quality. That's the side of the business I've done pretty well at," Cho said. "The financial management side I haven't."

Cho, who initially called his tax problems a "hiccup" in operations, said he never tried to evade authorities and always intended to make the payments.

"It's not that I went and bought a sports car or a horse. It's just general financial mismanagement," he said.

That may be so about financial mismanagement, but in the real world, when you don't meet your financial obligations, they will come back and bite you in the ass. It's a fundamental of capitalism, good coffee notwithstanding.

Murky Coffee closing!!!

Will sent me an IM last night with some terrible news: my favorite DC coffee shop, Murky Coffee, will be closing its doors due to an unpaid tax bill (to the tune of $220,000). The City Paper's been keeping tabs on the developments as they happen, and it appears that the District is only focusing on the Capitol Hill store. I've queried the owner to the fate of its Arlington store, and my hope is that it'll remain in business so that people can still enjoy Murky's wonderful blend of java.

In any case, this is a major loss for Capitol Hill and Eastern Market. I truly mean it when I say, Murky Coffee was some wonderful coffee, with a store that was very charming and quaint.

Is Gustav Holst rolling in his grave yet?

I think I missed the memo, but according to a CNN article, we now have 11 planets in our solar system instead of 9. When did we add 2 more???

The article in question cites the new planets Ceres and Eris, which are classified as drawf planets much like Pluto. Ceres is located between Mars and Jupiter, and Eris is now the furthest planet from the sun, surpassing Pluto for that honor.

Did you order scabies with room service?

I first heard about this a week ago when the story ran on the morning news, and it caught my eye because I pass by this locale frequently. But apparently the District has ordered the shutdown of the President Inn on New York Avenue, which sits maybe a mile west of the District line. Reason? Because it's extremely unsanitary, in a nutshell: dirty and stained bed sheets, bugs infesting the rooms, and even one report of scabies being contracted!

I drive past the President Inn often, since I take New York Avenue to get to BW Parkway north, 95 north, or Route 50 west, and that stretch of New York Avenue—just before Route 1 and extending all the way down to the 395 interchange—isn't what I'd call one of the prettiest parts of town; many of the nearby hotels reflect that, too. But to be honest, for a long time I actually thought the President Inn looked like one of the better hotels on this stretch of road! Granted, I think it used to be a Days Inn or one of the larger chains a few years back, so that might have helped its image.

Fear and Loathing with the Blues Brothers?

I watched Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas again recently, and afterwards, I went onto IMDb and browsed the trivia section for that film—where I made the following discovery:

During the early stages during the initial development hell to get the film made, Jack Nicholson and Marlon Brando were originally considered for the roles of Duke and Gonzo, and Nicholson was attached, but he, and Brando, both grew too old. Afterward, Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi were considered for the duo, but that fell apart when Belushi died. John Malkovich was later considered for the role of Duke, but he too grew too old. At one point John Cusack was almost cast, but then Hunter S. Thompson met Johnny Depp, and was convinced no one else could play him. Cusack had previously directed the play version of "Fear and Loathing", with his brother playing Duke.

John Cusack as Hunter Thompson? Not a prayer. John Malkovich? Quite possibly! Jack Nicholson and Marlon Brando? If they did a convincing enough job, maybe I'd buy that—though Marlon Brando might have had the right physique to be Dr. Gonzo.

But Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi, the original Blues Brothers, as the Raoul Duke/Dr. Gonzo duo??? Now that's just plain shocking! I can't for the life of me picture Dan Aykroyd in either role (though he looks more suited to play Duke), but given that his Ghostbusters co-star Bill Murray had already portrayed Duke in Where the Buffalo Roam, somehow I'd imagine an Aykroyd/Belushi pairing would have been viewed as competition between two major SNL alums (i.e., Murray and Aykroyd)—somewhat reminiscent of William Shatner directing the widely unpopular Star Trek V after Leonard Nimoy's highly successful Star Trek IV.

. . . though somehow I can picture John Belushi in the role of Dr. Gonzo, standing at the hotel counter and menacingly intoning, "This man has a bad heart."

The Chungs have closed down

I was very surprised to learn recently that the Chungs, the Korean family of dry-cleaners being sued by DC administrative judge Roy Pearson for a lost pair of pants, have closed down two of their dry-cleaning businesses in the District—particularly the one that served the venerable Mr. Pearson.

While saddened at first, I was quick to notice a great irony of the situation: Pearson lost his lawsuit against the Chungs (appeal notwithstanding), but he still wins in the technical sense because, with his lawsuit, he essentially set out to take the Chungs down . . . and with the Chungs closing two of their dry-cleaning stores, Pearson basically succeeded.

I seriously doubt he has a lot of sympathizers these days, but I still have to wonder if Pearson's doing a little happy dance to mark the occasion.

Frivolous lawsuits have a new king, and it's not Pants Man!

And here I thought Roy Pearson, famous for his missing pants lawsuit, was the king of frivolous lawsuits! According to this Yahoo article, he's pretty much been trumped. Because the most frivolous lawsuit has now been filed in the state of Nebraska . . . against God! It was apparently done to make a point that lawsuits have become so frivolous that anyone and anything can be sued.

Personally, I'm reacting not with ha-ha laughter to this. Rather, my response is more cynical. Why? Because there's nothing really newsworthy here. Lawsuits have become overwrought and frivolous in this society, and that realization is about as shocking (to coin Will's famous phrase) as the sun coming up in the east.

My thoughts on the matter: realizing that litigation and lawsuits have gotten this out of hand, don't file frivolous ones to prove a point. Instead, as a society, let's all use some common sense, assume some responsibility and accountability, lessen our sense of entitlement—and more than anything else, cut the crap.

When security goes too far

I stumbled across this article on Yahoo News, and it appears that Harrods, a very popular London store, is going to great security lengths in order to guard a pair of jewel-encrusted sandals: they're having the counter guarded by a live cobra!

Now I've heard of outsourcing, but isn't this a little ridiculous? Plus, I can't see a lot of people (especially those afraid of snakes) actually wanting to buy those shoes once they've been in the presence of a deadly snake.