Rough Ride

  • by Drew

Holiday season is rough, even on Monday morning. One car after another was tailgating me on the way in to work. So much aggression. What is it.

One guy was particularly bad, riding my tail on a one lane 45 mph route. I was doing about 60, like the eight or so cars in front of me. This cowboy in a gigantic Tahoe passed me on a brief stretch of dotted yellow. Then he tailgated the car formerly in front of me until he had enough breathing room to pass – this time on a double yellow curve. Is it bad of me to wish for a crash in these instances.

Finally, after about 10 minutes of extreme aggression, the Tahoe was two cars ahead of me. For all the recklessness and stupidity he had gained something like a 30 foot advantage. And then, without a blinker and barely touching the brake, he careered across oncoming traffic (a horn did sound) and squealed into a parking space. I looked out the driver’s side as I shot past and saw where he’d parked.

In the Manager space of an Auto Collision Repair shop. He must be his own best customer. Geez, maybe it’s been slow and he was out drumming up some business.

Prop Job

  • by Drew

So I went to Virginia last week. It really wasn’t a bad trip. I flew from Stewart in Newburgh – a first for me. I had to connect in Philly, but it was worth it. The only direct flight would have been from JFK. Taking into account the travel time and the headaches, one connection was worth it. My overall travel time was actually probably about the same.

The only thing was that they were some small planes. Actually, three out of four hops were in jets (small jets, but still jets) and they were all cozy but fine. The first flight of the round trip ride, however, was a little 12 aisle prop job. Eeeek.

It was bouncy, trouncy. It was a windy day to start with, and the plane flew much lower than I am used to. I was feeling well shook up by the time we got to Philly. For once I was glad there was no food or drink service.

But man, flying has really changed. The three airports I encountered on this trip all seemed to be operating on skeleton crews, and the add-on charges for…well, everything is sure different from how it used to be. And, not to sound like a schmuck, but on that little prop plane with extremely limited space, we had a rather chunky flight attendant. It was literally physically impossible for her to walk up the aisle without pressing the hip and/or posterior flesh against my shoulders. And since I was up near the front of the plane, I was, uh, pressed, a few too many times.

I will probably have to head back to VA in the next couple of weeks, and I may well take the same flights. Do you think I’d be too much of a jerk if I suggested she take a gander at the exercise equipment in the Sky Mall catalog…or at least check out some Hydroxycut reviews?

Biggie Pride

  • by Drew

Great spam I just received:

Subject: Your will have such a biggie pride it will be enough even to divide.

Body: Swim in deeper ocean with your new proportion.

First of all, I love a message with a subject that is longer than its actual content.

The concept of biggie pride makes me laugh…isn’t that what Wendy’s calls a larger fries. Or maybe it’s a largest fries, like, form when supersizing was the thing. Like, you’d buy a meal and say “Biggie me.” Or if you’re a rap fan, maybe it would be “Yo, Biggie me!”

With pride.

I think maybe if this message had gotten through to the Bushmeister, we’d be in a much better global position. Don’t be a divider, be a biggie prider!

And finally, swimming in the deeper ocean with your new proportion? I have two questions on this.

1. Proportionate to what exactly?
2. Will my health insurance pay for this?

Who dat?

  • by Drew

I’ve noticed something lately – a lot of cars, in addition to the silliness of a vanity license plate now have a big personalized sticker on the windshield. I’ve been seeing things like “Kathy’s Hummer” and “Jen’s Truck” and such. Sometimes, the particularly lucky and creative have matching windshield sticker and license plate. It’s just wacky to me.

Maybe it’s because I’m afraid that if people knew which car was mine they’d be more likely to key the paint or something. I don’t know, it just seems…frivolous.

I understand certain personalized things. Jake has a cute half-sized guitar with his name embroidered on the gig bag. It’s cute. And it’s not like it’s a backpack and some stranger might use knowledge of his name to get him into a van with no windows. I mean, if some dude at the club after the gig is like, “hey, you must be Jake,” I think he’ll be rock star enough to deal with the windowless van.

I like personalized books too. I still have one from when I was a kid. It’s about this cool alligator who comes to my house on my childhood street and became my friend. That was pretty cool. Plus, it helped me learn how to spell Susquehanna.

In Flight Movie

  • by Drew

I am excited. Very excited.

To know me is to know that I am a canned media junkie. I tend to hate top 40 broadcasts and 95% of network TV (the otherwise POPULAR media) but I usually have something spinning in my ear or on a TV in the semi-background. Driving, mowing, even waiting for Jake’s bus I usually have an audiobook playing in my  . Hanging out playing my guitar I often have a DVD on the TV. I love the eye and/or ear candy. I crave it, really. It tends to tune out the voices in my head.

So, I used my pending flight to Virginia as an excuse to fork over the cash for an Ipod Nano. I’ve had several mp3 players in the past 8 or so years, but this is my first teeny tiny video player. It’s so cute, and it was very well-priced at Sam’s Club. It’s no giant screen plasma television for the perfect media room or home theater. Hell, it’s not even a screen for the modern bedroom. But for the standard domestic coach flight with a connection in Philly, this will be just right.

Flyboy

  • by Drew

I’m flying to Virginia this week for a few meetings at our main corporate offices. I haven’t flown in over a year – that was a flight to Colorado during serious bad weather. My 5pmish flight was cancelled and I ended up flying out around midnight. I ended up checking into my hotel room around 3:30am – Colorado time. And I had an 8am meet.

I checked the flight regulations and see they still have the liquid rules in effect. This was a relatively new thing when I went to Colorado. You can travel with liquids in containers of no more than 3 ounces, as long as they are all contained in a zipper bag of no more than one quart in size. 

This reminded me of my return flight from Colorado. As I went through security in Boulder, I ended up in line behind a mouthie business traveler. The lines were actually moving pretty fast, but this guy wouldn’t shut up about how long it took. Bitch bitch bitch.

There was a side line that went off to a different machine, and the yawning guard would occasionally pull people aside to go down that little roped path. The impatient guy walked up to the tired security guard and somewhat boldly asked her “Hey, what does a guy have to do to get on the short line?”

She shook her head at his error and told him it was three at a time. Naturally, I got stuck following the noisy schmuck that-a-way, along with another poor fool suckered in. I knew I was in for trouble.

It turns out that this was a new, experimental process. You had to remove your shoes and walk into a huge sci-fi box. Inside, the machine gave instructions.

“Put your feet on the shoe-prints on the floor.”
“Please don’t move.”
“Keep your hands at your sides.”
“Please don’t move.”
“Keep your head up.”
“Please don’t move.”
“You will feel an impact of air on your body.”
“Please don’t move.”

I’m not kidding, it went on and on. I got nervous in there. I thought maybe whirling sawblades would come out and slice off something vital if I didn’t keep my arms down. Eventually you would get blasted with air. Apparently, this was supposed to detect traces of explosive materials. Neat. Very neat. And much slower than the regular procedure. As I stood behind the loudmouth, I looked forlornly back to the main line and watched as people who’d been behind me heading for their flight gates.

Loudmouth had all kinds of issues. He complained about taking off his shoes. When they first told him to remove them he said “what if I don’t want to?” After an uncomfortable moment he chuckled and said he was joking. He argued about removing his fake Rolex because it is “mechanical winding watch not some quartz thing.” He also had magnetic bracelets that “improve circulation” and a wedding ring he couldn’t get off. “I got rid of the wife years ago, but I can’t get rid of the ring.”

After the added 15 minutes of wasted time I spent waiting to get through this process I really need a drink.

Incidentally, 50ml ‘mini’ bottles of vodka are well under the 3 ounce limit. I sure am glad I picked up all those Smirnoff flavor minis last year as a semi-joke gift for Carol. I’ve got Captain Morgan too. The only question is how many I can fit in a one quart zipper bag and still have room for my travel-sized toothpaste tube.

Oh bugger…

  • by Drew

Hey, it’s been a while since we talked license plates, but I saw an astounding one today. On the back of a seedy looking little pick up truck: BUG R IT

Ok, dude, what the fudge (no pun intended or implied)? Carol recently told me about someone who couldn’t get ZINFANDL on his plate because it refers to booze. And yet, some dude in a Deliverance-mobile can proclaim his love of sodomy for all to see? I thought Git R Done was annoying enough, but…damn. Seriously, you can check the definition. It’s a verb. It means sodomy.

Somebody find me a car cover for this heap so I can forget all about rednecks with “open minds.” Eeeeek!

Has My Faith Been Restored?

  • by Drew

Last night, as the clock rolled past midnight, we came into a new day both literally and figuratively. I saw the labors of thousands bear fruit. I saw the dreams of millions become a reality. It was a remarkable feeling.

There is a lot of talk about the younger generation as a prime driver of this dramatic political and social shift. I remember the last time they described an election in similar terms, driven by the young vote. I am proud to say that I was a part of that happening. It was my first vote, and the change in policy and philosophy resulted in, perhaps, the most significant period of growth in our nation’s history.

This nation was founded by people of vision and courage. They were smart, strong-willed, unbending, and most of them were very young. They wanted something better for themselves and their children. They were full of hope.

But this event, this success, this triumph should not be diminished by statistical nonsense or rhetoric about race or age or gender. This is a victory shared by all Americans, regardless of age, race, religion, sexual orientation or political affiliation because the system worked. It was a difficult campaign with, much of the time, spite, accusation and invective. Mud was slung. Nasty things were said. But in the end, the people of this nation took advantage of their right, in fact, they embraced their responsibility and made a selection. The system worked.

During the primary race, I wondered if the United States as a whole was ready for what the Democrats had to offer – a black man or a woman. Could we, as a nation do it? Honestly, I wasn’t sure. Over the last few weeks in the campaign, as I saw repeated examples of ignorance and intolerance, I found myself questioning the integrity of the American people. I found myself with very little faith in the American people.

But last night, as a man made his concession speech, and a handful of his supporters embarrassed themselves and disrespected their candidate, I realized something. Perhaps those ignorants and the intolerants, though vocal and loud and adept at making themselves visible, perhaps their numbers are smaller than I feared. Perhaps, even, a lot smaller.

A long time ago I wrote a pretty trite line in a song…Change is good, even when you feel it. It may not be particularly insightful, but it is true. Tom Waits said it even better. If it’s worth the going, it’s worth the ride.

So what does this philosophical wank all really mean? Am I getting warm and fuzzy and Yankee Doodle Dandy in the George M. Cohan style? Not really.

And to answer the titular question, has may faith in the American people been restored?

Truthfully? No. But my hope for the American people has been. And looking at some of the moments in time that brought us to this very new morning – the Declaration of Independence, the Revolutionary War, the Emancipation Proclamation, the Second World War – all predicated on the hopes and dreams of the American people, I will take hope over faith any day.

Fa la la la la…

  • by Drew

We went to Target on Sunday to check out the Halloween clearance scene and ended up with a wicked cheap fog machine. That’s going to be sweet next time we have a party. Unfortunately, though, we realized something kind of scary. It is clearly the beginning of holiday shopping season.

Carol pointed out that we need to basically hole up at home until after the holidays…at least on the weekends. And she’s totally right. The people shopping on Sunday were maniacs. Like, eyes glazed, no idea what was going on around them. There were all these nasty grandmothers in the toy aisles snatching stuff that’s not even on sale yet! Or arguing with their poor husbands. Come on ladies, do you really expect your 68 year old husband to know which My Little Pony his grand daughter wants?

But the attitude of so many of the shoppers…seriously, it was bad. Just a lot of nasty looks and impatience. When we finally fled the store and were in the parking lot, we had an excellent final encounter. The lot was fairly crowded, but at that moment, the space on the driver’s side of the car was vacant. It is a pretty typical parking lot arrangement, we were nosed in, and there was a line of cars on the other wide, facing us. There was a little Isuzu Trooper type thing facing the vacant space, and as luck would have it, the passengers were getting into their car just as we were getting into ours. Noah climbed into his seat (on the driver’s side) as I put a couple bags in the trunk and then went to buckle him.

Just about then, the people in the Isuzu, three middle-aged women, kind of short and chunky, were revving up and ready to go and I just had a sense that they wanted to pull through the vacant space next to our car rather than back out (as they would have to if the space was occupied). Of course, they would not be able to pull through until I finished buckling Noah and closed his car door. I figured they would either wait, or back out.

Instead, to my surprise, they started driving. They pulled their car up to about two feet away from Noah’s open car door. Effectively, they were about a third into the parking space, still about two thirds in their soon to be vacated space.

So I had to step backwards to awkwardly close Noah’s door, and then squeeze against my car to allow these schmucks to drive past. I think what pissed me off the most is that they weren’t heated up about it, like honking horns or glaring at me impatiently. Instead, they pulled their bumper to within a couple feet of me, and then went on about chatting in their car. It was one of the more asshole instances of passive aggressive behavior I have seen in a while. I mean, seriously, why couldn’t they just wait in their space until I finished getting Noah in his seat? What they did was both obnoxious and dangerous.

Thankfully we have done a good bit of our holiday shopping already, at least for the kids. If we are lucky, we won’t have to deal with these kinds of jerks too much in the next couple of months. Of course, this contest I heard about could make it really easy to avoid the mall altogether. Hey, maybe if you sign up and win and buy me something awesome. You have to make a video and put it on YouTube, so you better be kick ass.

The Wagon

  • by Drew

That’s right, I’m going on the wagon – the South Beach wagon, that is. I did it a little over a year ago and lost 30 pounds. After about 8 months I was still 20 pounds down, so it wasn’t so bad.

But lately I’ve been feeling a little big and slow, so I figure it’s a good time to try and clean up my act before the holiday eating season is upon us. It’s not like I want to be running around modeling sexy lingerie or anything, but I want to lose a little of the old spare tire. I’ve always had love handles, but the extra thickness on my back is kind of disheartening.

I tell you, though, reducing the carbs isn’t too bad, but I’ve really been missing my cocktail every night. Just axing the booze will probably take me down another 20 pounds.

© 2026 Drew Bancroft. All rights reserved. Totally.