Happy Mardi Gras!

I've celebrated Mardi Gras every year since I was in Atlanta. I claim it's because both the Cajuns and I are descended from French Canadian stock, but it's mostly because it's a hell of a lot of fun.

This year, I'm making red beans and rice and hot links for dinner. I was tempted to try to throw my annual party, but I got stuck with a shift tomorrwow. I haven't decided if I'm going to go out later and try to find a bar making Hurricanes, or just mix some up for myself. Obviously, I have the genuine Pat O's Mix. (Sadly, I've given up on finding a King cake in San Diego.)

Put some beads on, get out there tonight, and have cyber drink with me.

Laissez les bons temps rouler!

Some things should not wed

I wrote most of this a while ago, but never posted it. The idea has been percolating for some time, mostly in the form of conversations with gay friends. It also went through the Dad filter. I find some comfort in the fact that people who listen to me on the subject don't beat me up, even if they raise an eyebrow. To commemorate the beginning of civil unions in New Jersey, and because I needed to take a break from whining, I'm finally going to throw it out there:

I am (at this time) against legislation allowing gay marriage.

But perhaps not for the reasons you think. My problem with gay marriage is not with homosexuals. Or heterosexuals. It's with "marriage". I think a lot of people, even in the allegedly "red" states, would agreee. We need to define marriage, and it's a BIG problem. "How big?", you ask. Start with this.

Does it make any f---in sense that someone in a collar can pronounce you "man and wife" based on the "powers vested in [him/her] by the State of _____"? Freedom of religion is guaranteed by the First Amendment to the Constitution, and the separation of Church and State has been interpreted for some time. Yet 200+ years later it took unions that some people didn't want to bring a seemingly obvious problem to the forefront. Yes, we've mixed Church and State. (This is, BTW, the couple to which my titles refers.)

What else can you say about ministers being "vested" with the power to perform a union with implications on taxation, next of kin, and inheritance? It should never have happened; but with 200+ years of "stare decisis", is it not easily reversed.

The first step would be to separate the civil legalities from the religious event. Sadly, perhaps, I think the simplest way to do this is to let go of the word "marriage". When people object to "gay marriage", most are (in my estimation) objecting to the vision of two men, one perhaps veiled, standing on the altar of their church. They care notably less about whether a man's partner is automatically made his proxy for health care decisions.

In reality, though, the rights to shared health benefits, adoption, and hospital visitation matter more that the word "marriage". As long as marriage is equated with a religious ceremony, we can't win the argument anyway. Truth be told, we shouldn't. One edge of the sword of religious freedom is that we can't make a church bless homosexual unions -- they will have to come to it themselves, as they lose members to better theologic arguments. So I suggest, for now, that we let the word marriage go, in favor of a more important conversation about civil rights. Call them civil unions, mawwaiges, or whatever -- they are a place to start. Once the government recognizes the rights, we can petition our individual churches to use whatever word we want. Giving up an 8-letter word for a few years isn't much of a sacrifice if it allows committed couples to realize the appropriate legal benefits sooner.

So, in the run-up to the 2008 elections, I'll be looking for people who grant legal equality to homosexual partners, and I won't ask them to sacrifice themselves on a pyre of "gay marriage". Think about it.

And my congratulations to the newly "unifed" in New Jersey.

Service?

I'm about to get into my 4th winey post, so I thought I'd better clear up a couple of things.

I DO, in general, like San Diego very much. My job has been great so far, the people are nice, and the weather is better than San Francisco and only going to improve. I have not, however, been impressed by the service industry (beyond the cute bartenders).

Issue #1: Furniture
I bought a new bedroom set -- dresser with mirror, platform bed, attached night tables, and adjustable head rests -- at least thats what 70 year old salesman called them. I see many other possibilities in adjustable padded cushions ;)


I bought it on a Saturday -- it was supposed to be delivered that Thursday while I was still off work. They called me Tuesday to say there was a piece missing, and they wanted to get me brand new stuff, so could I wait. They said it would be in the following Monday, and they would call about delivery.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday went without a phone call. When I finally called them on Thursday, they said they still didn't have it, they wouldn't have it until Monday, and they thanked me for my patience. I said, "No. I'm not being patient anymore. I'm now upset, and I would like to know how you are going to compensate me for the fact that you will have my money for two weeks without me having furniture." No reply.

They finally scheduled delivery for the Thursday two weeks after the original date. They told me I had to be available from 1-3 for delivery and set up. The delivery team, while pleasant and professional, got there at 2:45, and proceeded to take until 4:30 to deliver the bed. This would have been fine, except that I was now working and had to ditch out.

Oh, and one more thing -- the "new" dresser I had waited for had a picture in it that belonged to someone else. I'm already drafting a nasty letter in my head.

Issue #2: Hair
I needed a haircut before the Palm Springs softball tournament, so I asked someone with decent looking short hair where they got it cut and went there. It was a busy shop, mostly young Latino and African-American barbers. Knowing no one specific, I took the first open guy (nothing new there). He did what I wanted, and a good job. Unfortunately, he wasn't there when I went back this week, so I had to try another guy. He didn't really do what I had told him, despite my basically pointing to a picture on the wall. When I got home and put some product in my hair, I noticed the top was about 8 different lengths.

I thought I was, perhaps, being overly prissy. Until I went to get it fixed somewhere else. Barber #2 noticed the clean back, and mentioned that it looked pretty good. When I explained about the top, he ran a comb through a couple of times -- and went "hmmm". As we chatted about where I had gotten it cut, he mentioned that he knew some of the guys at that shop.

"If you're not comfortable cuttting a white guys hair, you should just say it," he said.

I thought I had been dealing with a few stray strands. "Was it THAT bad?"

"It was pretty bad," he said. Fortunately, it's better now, though a little shorter than I had planned. I will probably go back to this guy, but I feel a little bad about ditching the guy who did a decent job the first time.

Issue #3: Coffee
This one is pretty simple -- I went to Peet's in Hillcrest at about 1500. I asked for a DeCaf coffee. They didn't have any. The guy said he would brew some more, and it would be ready in 1 1/2 minutes. Over five minutes later, he gave me a cup of DeCaf. The 5 minute wait didn't kill me, but I know the brewing time is standardized -- either be honest with me about the time, or be on the ball with my coffee. And c'mon, your a coffee shop -- you don't run out of coffee. It would be like a pizza shop running out of pizza. [This is a literary device called foreshadowing.] At least I got a coupon for a free drink.

Issue #4: Pizza
I hate Valentine's Day as a rule, but this one was worse than usual. I couldn't find a bitter/singles event, I don't really have enough friends yet to throw one, and it was Wednesday night, so it wasn't a great night to go out. It didn't help to think I might actually have had someone with whom to spend it if I hadn't left San Francisco, and that my seemingly nice guy from the weekend wasn't calling me back. So I resigned myself to pizza, wine, and the Sopranos on A & E.

In Googling "San Diego Pizza", I found a place called Lefty's that advertized Chicago Style stuffed pies. I called. I got as far as "stuffed pizza with..." when the guy broke in to tell me they were out of pizza. After the coffee, I knew this was not my day. (I probably should have realized it when I posted a blog about a guy not calling back just after midnight.) So I let it go, and ordered a NY style from Bronx Pizza. Not bad. And I know where I'll look next -- this place sound like it might "service" Hillcrest well. It's on Washington Street, the photo is unedited, and I couldn't resist. I just can decided if it's an offer, a request, or an order.

The $25,000 Pyramid

I find that I often rattle my thoughts off in lists, especially when talking to my Dad.

One day, I was whining about my old job. I was going on about:

"the contract,
the condescension,
the last of sick leave,
the nurses,
the surgeons..."

when my Dad burst in and said,

"Reasons you moved to San Diego!"

It sounded like a winning sequence from the $25,000 Pyramid, and we both cracked up. Now it's a running gag.

So here's a more somber one. See if you can guess correclty before you get to the bottom.

"I wasn't good enough."
"I wasn't cute enough."
"I wasn't big enough."
"He DID mind that I finished and he didn't (that second time)."
"He thought I was getting attached."
"He really DID just want to cuddle."
"I didn't cuddle right/enough."
"I didn't look good when he was sober."
"He thinks I'm a slut."
"I shouldn't have kissed him in the morning."
"He lost his phone."

Got it yet?

Blinkers 102

I want to continue to "experience" San Diego, I had the day off, and it was time. So today I undertook our semi-annual duty, AKA "the longest 25 minutes of your life". Which, by the way, beats the hell out of when it was "the longest 3-5 days of your life".

Since I haven't dealt with benefits at my new job or finding a doctor in San Diego, I went to the County Clinic. And I'm a little disturbed. I listened, I swabbed, I waited, I exhaled, I left. The whole process took over 30 minutes. In that time, NO ONE else came into the clinic. At Magnet in SF, they were so busy you had to schedule the anonymous test. All of San Diego can't be that healthy. Not for long, anyway.

Knowing that I could again reply on-line as DDF (except for the EtOH), I bought 2 pairs of Kenneth Cole sunglasses (there's a Nordstrom Rack here), drove home, and headed out to the gym. Which brings us to Blinkers 102...

...Turning on your blinkers does NOT resolve you of responsibility.

It's a good start, but you still have to make sure it's safe. Looking both ways is a good way to begin. Case in point -- when making a right turn, it is not sufficient to stare left as you move forward. If you never look right, you might almost run over boy in the cool new sunglasses crossing the street on the way to the gym. Capeesh? Both of you?

Yep, twice. And its only 6 blocks to my gym. And I felt so good I didn't flip either one of them off.

Blinkers 101

Above, hopefully, is a video of what cool turn signals, AKA "Blinkers", look like. Yours need not be this cool to be effective. On most cars, the lever that controls them can be found on that little part that connects the steering wheel to the dashboard (as seen below). Lift UP (clockwise) for a right turn, push DOWN (counter-clockwise) for a left turn.


auto.howstuffworks.com

Theorem: Turn signals indicate that you will be turning.

Corollary #1: They prepare the people behind you for the fact that you may slow down prior to your turn.

Corollary #2: Lighting your turn signal AFTER your have SLAMMED ON YOUR BRAKES is not nearly as helpful. (Though there may be comfort in knowing you won't be in front of me anymore.)

Obviously, everyone has performed the "break first, signal second" maneuver, especially in a new town. I have a hard time believing, though, that the 8 people who did it in front of me today are newer to the San Diego area than I am.

There. Now I feel better.

86,400 seconds

How do you measure a day?

See what watching RENT will do to you?

Some days are circled in red on the calendar before they start. Some encompass a life changing event. Most, I think, are just the summation of a bunch of little things. For some unknown reason, I was thinking about that this morning, and kept a log of some of the little moments that made up my day.

---I didn't have to be at work until around 9 this morning, so I was trying to sleep in a little. At 0655, my pager went off. "Critical bed shortage at Thorton [hospital]. Make sure your patients are out ASAP." Given that I'm not even working at Thornton this week, I was not amused. I also couldn't get back to sleep. Net (-).

---My department bought us all Ipod Shuffles, and I used mine for the first time. There is a certain exhilaration in not knowing what comes next, and fun in the mix generated. Here are the first 7 songs played by my Shuffle:

I Walk the Line
I'm Gonna Get You
Night and Day
Rapture
Chains of Love
[Something, I think by Moby, that I didn't know I had]
Dancin' in the Dark

It's a little frightening how strange my musical collection is, but I give it a (+)

---I've had my eye on a cutie who works at Bread and Cie in Hillcrest. I thought he was looking back (and he may have been), but today he had a thick band on his LEFT ring finger. (-) for me, hopefully a (+) for him. On second thought, he was no WCB, and at least I know it's just for the tips, so maybe it's a wash.

---There was a lady on Washington St. who had pulled into the crosswalk to make a left. She didn't get to do so. When she saw me walking across the street, she backed up. I smiled and waved. She smiled back. I like responsible, courteous people. (+)

---The pager again. Someone who wanted to transfer a patient paged me. OK. But they didn't give me a phone number -- just their pager. I will NEVER understand this. I can think of very few circumstances in which this is necessary. Otherwise, it just says (1) I'm stupid, or (2) you think that your time is more valuable than mine, since you can't be tied down to a phone, but I can be. Given that you need something from me, that's a pretty haughty assumption. Big (-)

---My NewsWeeks caught up with my new address, so I have reading material for the gym. (+)

---I saw an add touting the benefits of the Medicare Prescription Drug program. No mention of the "donut hole" or the drugs no one will cover. Surprise! It was paid for by the Pharma group. Could it be they wouldn't benefit from MediCare negotiating drug costs? Jury's still out -- the right media spin and it could backfire.

---On my way to the gym, I saw a package. I checked the name to ensure it wasn't mine. It turns out there is someone in my building is named Vincent Price. Love it. Muuhahahaha. (+)

---Pager again, this time combined with Murphy's Law. I left work around 2, and made it home, to the gym, and thru shopping at Ralph's without the pager going off. Between Ralph's and home, now carrying 3 bags of groceries and my backpack, I got paged 3 times. All 3 were people who paged me because they couldn't take the time to find or deal with the right person. (-)

---Walking home from the gym, a guy was pulling into the crosswalk to make a right on red. He was looking left until the moment he almost hit me. Poor form, but he did wave with a sincere look when I passed. Screwed up, but took responsibility. A wash.

---Met with my team, and we only had 5 new admissions by 1930. (++)

---New and cool episode of SVU. (+), even though their wasn't much Chris Maloney.

---Having time to blog on the new job. (+)

I think I give today a B+. If any of the e-mails I put on Match.com go anywhere, I may have to revise this later. Hope your total for the day was as good.

Is is worth being a gentleman...

...when he won't remember it anyway.

I've managed to meet some people in San Diego, but no one who wanted to watch the Superbowl. So I went to Flick's, and ended up sitting on the bar next to some nice folks. They took me to Baja Betty's for margaritas, carnitas, and the end of the Colts victory. Then we went to Urban Mo's.

I was there about five minutes when I saw a gorgeous guy -- too cute, probably Filipino, and probably too young. Having decided the latter, I looked away, but it was too late. He had seen me, grabbed my arm, then started feeling my chest.

"I'm Jeff," he said. "What's your name?"

"I'm Joel." Since I was buying drinks for my friend and I, I got him one. It took all of 5 minutes. When I gave him his drink, he said "What's your name?"

"Joel."

"What's my name?"

"Jeff."

"You're good," he said.

I told him I had to go give my friend his drink. He asked me to come back. I found my new friend from Flick's, dropped of the drink, and went to find Jeff. When I did, he said "What's your name, again?"

"Still, Joel." Then he moved to kissed me. I met his lips, but avoided the tongue.

He was pissed. "What was that?"

"Your very cute, and very drunk. I'd like to run into you earlier some night, and see if you still think I'm cute," I explained. At that moment, I really wished I were drunk beyond my morality so I could take him home. Unfortunately, he seemed to take my comment take it as a slap. After convincing him that I did think he was gorgeous, he said "Well I want a real kiss."

I'm not that strong, so I kissed him. I enjoyed it.


Apparently, it was supposed to make him irresistable. When I segued it to good-bye, he got upset again. "What's wrong with you? I thought you liked me!"

"I do like you, but you're drunk, and I'm trying to be a gentleman. Seven years in Atlanta will do that to you." In the end, he looked less upset, more confused, and left.

I know I'll run into him again, and he won't remember me, much less that I tried to do right by him. I wonder, though, if it wouldn't have been better to take him home with me -- I'm actually afraid of what might happen to him tonight. (He didn't seem to have any friends looking after him.) I'd add that sleeping with him would be more fun than watching "Rent" On Demand and blogging, but I've been here before, and it wouldn't happen. I end up tucking them into my bed and sleeping on the couch, at least until their heads clear. Then it's up to them.

So I'm just going to feel a little good about myself, and hope that no one takes advantage of him tonight. And perhaps it will make up for whatever I did to the guy who flipped me off tonight and said I was "trouble". I haven't been here that long, so I'm sure it had to do with the champagne induced haze from last Sunday (lest you haven't read much of my blog and think that this "gentleman" stuff is a way of life). I can't have been too objectionable, though, since his friend, who looked suspiciously like the guy who was in my apartment as the haze cleared, winked at me.

Fireworks pictures from my deck in San Diego tonight (I have no idea what they commemorated) and my old deck in SF (Fleet Week).