Well, I wouldn't actually like to, but I feel like I ought to, that I owe the world a caffeinated beverage. Because, ever since I moved back to New York, it seems pretty clear that I have been jinxed.
For starters, I've been a jinx to myself. From the emergency gall bladder surgery to my inability to not only find a job but even to obtain job interviews, things haven't been going according to plan for me.
The jinx has also hit friends and family, both near and far. The gall bladder bug also bit my sister in Utah, my friend Tabitha's husband in Georgia, and my friend Angela in Seattle has had gall bladder problems too. The first weekend I was back here, a neighbor broke his leg in five places in a freak bike accident, and in September two other guys in the ward ended up on crutches with foot injuries. My brother was in a car accident recently.
My jinx has gone macro, too. The Yankees missed the playoffs for the first time since 1993, and the Mets experienced their second straight late-season collapse and also missed the postseason. Almost every couple on Dancing With the Stars has had to deal with injuries, from sprained ankles to ruptured Achilles to appendectomies. Oh, and the stock market collapsed and the economy is in shambles. I know it's trendy to blame greedy CEOs and corrupt politicians, but I'm pretty sure it's my fault.
Lately the curse has taken a weird twist: all of my efforts to help people are being sabotaged. Some friends started a tutoring program that I'm volunteering at, but the kid I was assigned to is yet to show up in the three weeks since it started. I went to help clean the chapel last Saturday morning, and it took me less than five minutes to break the vacuum I was using. On Monday, missed phone calls and delayed trains resulted in me being more than half an hour late in joining the missionaries for a teaching appointment. And last night, after what seemed like a good, incident-free home teaching visit, before I even got home I got a call from my home teachee asking me to come back because she was locked out of her apartment! (I'll let her identify herself in the comments if she wishes.) It's a good thing I didn't sign up to volunteer at the polls next week; with the way things have been going, Nader would probably win the election.
So enjoy your soft drinks, everybody. I'm sure they're not tainted with bird flu or anything. I mean, I'm due for some good luck. Right?
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Halloween is super!
[Halloween is upon us! Yes!!! To kick off the festivities, here is the latest in my occasional series of retreads from the blog of Laugh Out Loud, my old improv troupe in Provo. This was written a few days before our October 31, 2006 show, the first time we performed in Halloween costumes.]
When I was a missionary in Scotland, Halloween fell on a Sunday, and I was one of the sacrament meeting speakers. They let me choose my own topic--probably a bad move. I gave a talk on how Halloween is like the gospel, because both allow people to be something better than they could be on their own (one involves wearing a costume, the other involves the grace of God--I can't remember which is which). The talk was not good, because I didn't have time to fully develop the idea. Maybe someday.
I was reminded of this incident this week while attending BYU's opera, "Die Fledermaus". At best, I'm a casual fan of the opera, but one of my neighbors is the lead, and another neighbor is in the orchestra, so I went to support them and wound up being thoroughly entertained. If you haven't been to see it already, you're running out of time.
I particularly enjoyed one character, because in the first half he looks like Freddie Mercury (perhaps the most operatic rock star of all time), and at the end he wears a bat costume, and I love Batman. Thankfully, this bat costume had no rubber nipples.
During intermission, the girl sitting closest to me (even though I bought my ticket with a group of friends, I somehow wound up with an empty seat on one side and two on the other--what a waste of a piece of gum!) recognized me as a member of Laugh Out Loud. It's happened before, but it's always kind of a strange situation. Of course, it wouldn't have happened had I been wearing my Batman costume from Halloween 2003.
Yes, I prefer the old school, Adam West Batman, at least when it comes to dressing up. It's much cheerier than the modern black Batsuit, plus when my mom bugs me about getting married, I can pull out the classic line from the '60s TV show: "A wife, no matter how beauteous or affectionate, would severely impair my crime fighting."
It's also great when you have superfriends, like I did that year.
Of course, there are a few differences between myself and the "real" Batman (in the picture you can see that two of the biggest are a lack of devotion to physical fitness and the fact that my utility belt holds no cool gadgets), which allowed my rivals to nail me with a pie in the face on my next birthday, making me look more like one of the all-time great supervillains, Skeletor.
So for the next Halloween I was a little more realistic, and went as "everyman" superhero Matt Foley.
Hopefully it's clear by now that I love Halloween. When you're wearing a costume, it's like you take on a whole new personality, and you lose a lot of your self-consciousness. I get a similar feeling when I put on the LOL "costume" and perform on stage. We get to do and say things on stage that we would be much less comfortable doing in a real-life situation. And we're taking that to a whole new level on Halloween next week.
That's right--we, LOL, your comedy superheroes, will perform our first-ever Halloween show. All players will be in costume. I'm still deciding between two, one of which is a pretty heroic guy whose mustache puts even Freddie Mercury's to shame! [I actually went as Taylor Hicks that year.] There are no presale tickets available, but we've used our superpowers to lower prices at the door to $2 (just $1 if you're in a costume)! Doors open at 7:30, show starts at 8:00, and we'll have you on your way early enough that you can still do some trick-or-treating. With all of the aspiring heroes in the room, the show's guaranteed to be super!
And just in case it's not, we'll bring a bunch of candy to throw at you. That always works.
When I was a missionary in Scotland, Halloween fell on a Sunday, and I was one of the sacrament meeting speakers. They let me choose my own topic--probably a bad move. I gave a talk on how Halloween is like the gospel, because both allow people to be something better than they could be on their own (one involves wearing a costume, the other involves the grace of God--I can't remember which is which). The talk was not good, because I didn't have time to fully develop the idea. Maybe someday.
I was reminded of this incident this week while attending BYU's opera, "Die Fledermaus". At best, I'm a casual fan of the opera, but one of my neighbors is the lead, and another neighbor is in the orchestra, so I went to support them and wound up being thoroughly entertained. If you haven't been to see it already, you're running out of time.
I particularly enjoyed one character, because in the first half he looks like Freddie Mercury (perhaps the most operatic rock star of all time), and at the end he wears a bat costume, and I love Batman. Thankfully, this bat costume had no rubber nipples.
During intermission, the girl sitting closest to me (even though I bought my ticket with a group of friends, I somehow wound up with an empty seat on one side and two on the other--what a waste of a piece of gum!) recognized me as a member of Laugh Out Loud. It's happened before, but it's always kind of a strange situation. Of course, it wouldn't have happened had I been wearing my Batman costume from Halloween 2003.
Yes, I prefer the old school, Adam West Batman, at least when it comes to dressing up. It's much cheerier than the modern black Batsuit, plus when my mom bugs me about getting married, I can pull out the classic line from the '60s TV show: "A wife, no matter how beauteous or affectionate, would severely impair my crime fighting."
It's also great when you have superfriends, like I did that year.
Of course, there are a few differences between myself and the "real" Batman (in the picture you can see that two of the biggest are a lack of devotion to physical fitness and the fact that my utility belt holds no cool gadgets), which allowed my rivals to nail me with a pie in the face on my next birthday, making me look more like one of the all-time great supervillains, Skeletor.
So for the next Halloween I was a little more realistic, and went as "everyman" superhero Matt Foley.
Hopefully it's clear by now that I love Halloween. When you're wearing a costume, it's like you take on a whole new personality, and you lose a lot of your self-consciousness. I get a similar feeling when I put on the LOL "costume" and perform on stage. We get to do and say things on stage that we would be much less comfortable doing in a real-life situation. And we're taking that to a whole new level on Halloween next week.
That's right--we, LOL, your comedy superheroes, will perform our first-ever Halloween show. All players will be in costume. I'm still deciding between two, one of which is a pretty heroic guy whose mustache puts even Freddie Mercury's to shame! [I actually went as Taylor Hicks that year.] There are no presale tickets available, but we've used our superpowers to lower prices at the door to $2 (just $1 if you're in a costume)! Doors open at 7:30, show starts at 8:00, and we'll have you on your way early enough that you can still do some trick-or-treating. With all of the aspiring heroes in the room, the show's guaranteed to be super!
And just in case it's not, we'll bring a bunch of candy to throw at you. That always works.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Wait 'til next year
As a follow-up to my recent baseball post, and keeping with my tradition of blogging about things I did several months after the fact, I thought I'd put up some pictures of me enjoying the New York baseball scene.
Both the Mets and Yankees move into new stadiums next year, so on literally my first full day back in the city, my good friend, former roommate and fellow baseball buff Will Bishop came up from Boston to experience the old parks for the (first and) last time.
Here I am in the upper deck of Shea Stadium. This picture was taken by my friend Marissa, who came to the game with us. As you can see, I finally got my ice cream in a mini helmet. It really does taste better that way. And it eased the pain of the Metropolitans losing to the lowly Padres.
In the background, you can see the big apple beyond the outfield wall, which pops up every time the Mets hit a home run. I believe the new stadium will have a similar feature. I was excited when I first heard that the new Mets stadium will be called City Field. Not only was I impressed that the team wasn't selling the naming rights to some heartless corporation, but I loved the old school, generic name, like Town Hall, the midtown venue where I'll be seeing Jim Gaffigan next month. A few weeks later, I realized it's actually being christened Citi Field, and I became very disillusioned.
The next day Will and I took the Yankee Stadium tour. As I mentioned before, Don Mattingly is my all-time favorite ball player. Here's his retired number in Monument Park.
The Yankees won four World Series titles in five years...years which fit nicely between Donnie Baseball's playing days and his stint as a Yankee coach. But he's still one of the best Yankees ever and probably should get more Hall of Fame consideration than he has since he became eligible. Here's his plaque.
You know who else has a plaque in Monument Park? The Pope. Our tour guide referred to everyone as "Mr." Mr. Steinbrenner, Mr. Girardi, etc. It was like the New York Times was narrating our tour. I can't remember if, when showing us the plaques, she referred to the pontiff as "Mr. Pope," or if that was just a joke Will and I thought up.
It was Will's idea to take the tour, mainly because he's writing his dissertation on the Yankees. He is definitely not a Yankee fan. The only thing in the stadium he wanted a picture of was the retired number of the great Jackie Robinson (every Major League team has retired his number). Jackie, of course, was a Dodger legend, and Will is a big Dodgers fan.
A view of the soon-to-be demolished field from the press box. The tour was actually better than I thought it would be. We got to "worship" in Monument Park, walk along the warning track, play around in the dugout for a while (biggest disappointment of the tour: the bullpen phone was locked up. I would've loved a picture of me on that phone), visit the locker room (no picture taking allowed in there), and sit in the press box. And they gave us a Yankees luggage tag. Time well spent, if slightly overpriced (that could be the slogan for this entire city, though).
I was in a costume shop yesterday buying a fake mustache when two women came in. One said to her friend, "I wonder if they have a Derek Jeter costume." Her friend said, "Who is that, a wrestler?" That woman is definitely an exception here. New Yorkers love baseball, and even with the economy as shaky as it is, I expect the two new, more-expensive stadiums to be full next year. I hope to go to a lot of games myself. I plan on becoming a Mets fan, because cheering for the Yankees is too easy, plus I already have an AL team. But mostly I love baseball, and I love that I live so close to where so many games are played.
Both the Mets and Yankees move into new stadiums next year, so on literally my first full day back in the city, my good friend, former roommate and fellow baseball buff Will Bishop came up from Boston to experience the old parks for the (first and) last time.
Here I am in the upper deck of Shea Stadium. This picture was taken by my friend Marissa, who came to the game with us. As you can see, I finally got my ice cream in a mini helmet. It really does taste better that way. And it eased the pain of the Metropolitans losing to the lowly Padres.
In the background, you can see the big apple beyond the outfield wall, which pops up every time the Mets hit a home run. I believe the new stadium will have a similar feature. I was excited when I first heard that the new Mets stadium will be called City Field. Not only was I impressed that the team wasn't selling the naming rights to some heartless corporation, but I loved the old school, generic name, like Town Hall, the midtown venue where I'll be seeing Jim Gaffigan next month. A few weeks later, I realized it's actually being christened Citi Field, and I became very disillusioned.
The next day Will and I took the Yankee Stadium tour. As I mentioned before, Don Mattingly is my all-time favorite ball player. Here's his retired number in Monument Park.
The Yankees won four World Series titles in five years...years which fit nicely between Donnie Baseball's playing days and his stint as a Yankee coach. But he's still one of the best Yankees ever and probably should get more Hall of Fame consideration than he has since he became eligible. Here's his plaque.
You know who else has a plaque in Monument Park? The Pope. Our tour guide referred to everyone as "Mr." Mr. Steinbrenner, Mr. Girardi, etc. It was like the New York Times was narrating our tour. I can't remember if, when showing us the plaques, she referred to the pontiff as "Mr. Pope," or if that was just a joke Will and I thought up.
It was Will's idea to take the tour, mainly because he's writing his dissertation on the Yankees. He is definitely not a Yankee fan. The only thing in the stadium he wanted a picture of was the retired number of the great Jackie Robinson (every Major League team has retired his number). Jackie, of course, was a Dodger legend, and Will is a big Dodgers fan.
A view of the soon-to-be demolished field from the press box. The tour was actually better than I thought it would be. We got to "worship" in Monument Park, walk along the warning track, play around in the dugout for a while (biggest disappointment of the tour: the bullpen phone was locked up. I would've loved a picture of me on that phone), visit the locker room (no picture taking allowed in there), and sit in the press box. And they gave us a Yankees luggage tag. Time well spent, if slightly overpriced (that could be the slogan for this entire city, though).
I was in a costume shop yesterday buying a fake mustache when two women came in. One said to her friend, "I wonder if they have a Derek Jeter costume." Her friend said, "Who is that, a wrestler?" That woman is definitely an exception here. New Yorkers love baseball, and even with the economy as shaky as it is, I expect the two new, more-expensive stadiums to be full next year. I hope to go to a lot of games myself. I plan on becoming a Mets fan, because cheering for the Yankees is too easy, plus I already have an AL team. But mostly I love baseball, and I love that I live so close to where so many games are played.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Our Cannon Center is a liquor store
Remember the photo essays I've done in the past about places I've lived and worked? Someone else was nice enough to do one for my current apartment building for me, minus the jokes that I normally include.
(The pastry chef mentioned in the article is me. Well, not really. But I took his spot in the building.)
Living in Harleman Halls isn't too different than living in May, or Stover, or Budge, or the other Helaman Halls halls. We have longer visiting hours, and despite the descriptions of crime in the neighborhood, it might actually be safer here, because there are fewer 18-year-old pranksters around. Oh, and a tiny two-man dorm room like the one I shared with Kyle Hampton during the 1998-99 school year would probably cost about $900 a month out here. But otherwise, they're pretty much the same.
(The pastry chef mentioned in the article is me. Well, not really. But I took his spot in the building.)
Living in Harleman Halls isn't too different than living in May, or Stover, or Budge, or the other Helaman Halls halls. We have longer visiting hours, and despite the descriptions of crime in the neighborhood, it might actually be safer here, because there are fewer 18-year-old pranksters around. Oh, and a tiny two-man dorm room like the one I shared with Kyle Hampton during the 1998-99 school year would probably cost about $900 a month out here. But otherwise, they're pretty much the same.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Fall Classic
I'm a big fan of Halloween. It might even be my favorite holiday. But it's on the last day of October. Not much goes on during the rest of the month, especially now that Oktoberfest is increasingly inaccurately named.
However, there is at least one great thing about the first 30 days of October...postseason baseball. (Yes, this is a post about baseball. I probably just lost about 95% of my readers.) I love baseball. I'm actually typing this post while watching Game 1 of the World Series. That's one of the things I love about baseball--you can be doing two or three other things and still fully pay attention to a game on TV.
A lot of national writers and commentators aren't too thrilled with this year's WS match up, but I think the Rays and Phillies are both fun to watch, and once my team has been eliminated I enjoy seeing teams win that haven't won for a long time. So I think this will be a great series, a true Fall Classic.
I can easily trace the origins of my baseball fanhood. I got my first pack of baseball cards for my seventh birthday, a few weeks after the beginning of the 1987 season. I was instantly hooked on card collecting, and that 1987 Topps set is still far and away my favorite set of all time.
Like the station wagons of the era, the cards had fake wood paneling. There was a nice mix of action shots (like Barry Bonds) and youth soccer style poses (like Padres manager Steve Boros) on the card fronts. There were plenty of clean-cut guys, like Yankee pitcher (and Utah native) Scott Nielsen, but also lots of guys with cool mustaches: Keith Hernandez, Don Aase, Mark Clear, Carney Lansford, Dan Gladden, Steve Balboni...the list goes on and on.
I remember so much about that set. I remember that in the 792-card set, if a player's card number ended in a 5 or a 0, he was likely a good player; if it ended in 00, he was one of the best (or Dave Bergman). I remember who was on the all-star cards (Dave Parker, Teddy Higuera, Fernando, Tony Bernazard, etc.). I remember that year's record breakers (Roger Clemens' first 20-strikeout game, Dave Righetti's single season save record, Davey Lopes stealing more bases than any 40-year-old ever had, rookie Jim Deshaies striking out the first eight batters he faced in one start). I remember the "all star rookies" and "future stars" who panned out (Jose Canseco, B.J. Surhoff) and those who didn't (Andy Allanson, Tim Pyznarski). I remember the fun facts printed on the backs of the cards: "Mickey [Brantley] was a childhood chum of boxer Mike Tyson."
As my brother and I bought more and more wax packs, we built up our card "company" (all of our cards piled or stacked in a big bucket), which on a near-weekly basis I suggested we "split," just because I liked blindly pulling cards out of the middle of the pile and seeing who I ended up with. I began to learn what the statistics on the back of the card meant, and they fascinated me (although it took me a while to figure out there was no such thing as a "league leader in italics tie," but that might take me too long to explain). I saw that Yankee 1B Don Mattingly not only had the best stats, but shared my birthday, and he became my favorite player (I didn't realize at the time that the Yanks were the "evil empire" of baseball).
My brother also had a Street & Smith's magazine that recapped the memorable 1986 season that I loved looking at. For some reason, the first thing I think of when I recall that magazine is a weird quote from Royals utility infielder Greg Pryor about breakfast cereal.
I'm pretty sure that the first baseball game I ever watched was that year's all star game. I remember seeing Tim Raines hit the game-winning triple in the 13th inning to win the game for the National League, which is weird, because I was a little kid and that probably means I was up pretty late. Maybe I got some extra sugar from the cardboard gum that came in those packs of baseball cards. Coincidentally, I used a "Rock Raines" glove when I played t-ball and church softball. I believe it's the only mitt I've ever owned. (Even though I've loved baseball for a long time, I never actually played Little League.)
When the playoffs began that fall, I decided it was time to pick a favorite team. (My older brother had unfathomably become a Mariners fan. I have no idea why he chose them. They were even worse then than they are now.) Out of the four 1987 playoff teams (Cardinals, Giants, Tigers, Twins) I arbitrarily chose the Tigers. I'm not sure why, but it seems probable that my dad told me that their ace pitcher Jack Morris had attended BYU, which certainly would've swayed me towards Detroit. (My dad played baseball in high school and liked sports when I was a kid, but he hates them now for some reason.) My picking skills weren't great: the Tigers lost the ALCS to the Twins and didn't reach the postseason again until 2006, with some near-record futility in between.
Baseball evokes more nostalgia and has a much more fascinating history than any other sport, in my opinion, and now you know the history of my first year as a baseball fan. (By "you," I mean Chris James and my brother Adam, because I can't imagine anyone else would still be reading at this point. But maybe I know some closet baseball fans and don't realize it. If you're out there, let's watch Game 2 together.)
However, there is at least one great thing about the first 30 days of October...postseason baseball. (Yes, this is a post about baseball. I probably just lost about 95% of my readers.) I love baseball. I'm actually typing this post while watching Game 1 of the World Series. That's one of the things I love about baseball--you can be doing two or three other things and still fully pay attention to a game on TV.
A lot of national writers and commentators aren't too thrilled with this year's WS match up, but I think the Rays and Phillies are both fun to watch, and once my team has been eliminated I enjoy seeing teams win that haven't won for a long time. So I think this will be a great series, a true Fall Classic.
I can easily trace the origins of my baseball fanhood. I got my first pack of baseball cards for my seventh birthday, a few weeks after the beginning of the 1987 season. I was instantly hooked on card collecting, and that 1987 Topps set is still far and away my favorite set of all time.
Like the station wagons of the era, the cards had fake wood paneling. There was a nice mix of action shots (like Barry Bonds) and youth soccer style poses (like Padres manager Steve Boros) on the card fronts. There were plenty of clean-cut guys, like Yankee pitcher (and Utah native) Scott Nielsen, but also lots of guys with cool mustaches: Keith Hernandez, Don Aase, Mark Clear, Carney Lansford, Dan Gladden, Steve Balboni...the list goes on and on.
I remember so much about that set. I remember that in the 792-card set, if a player's card number ended in a 5 or a 0, he was likely a good player; if it ended in 00, he was one of the best (or Dave Bergman). I remember who was on the all-star cards (Dave Parker, Teddy Higuera, Fernando, Tony Bernazard, etc.). I remember that year's record breakers (Roger Clemens' first 20-strikeout game, Dave Righetti's single season save record, Davey Lopes stealing more bases than any 40-year-old ever had, rookie Jim Deshaies striking out the first eight batters he faced in one start). I remember the "all star rookies" and "future stars" who panned out (Jose Canseco, B.J. Surhoff) and those who didn't (Andy Allanson, Tim Pyznarski). I remember the fun facts printed on the backs of the cards: "Mickey [Brantley] was a childhood chum of boxer Mike Tyson."
As my brother and I bought more and more wax packs, we built up our card "company" (all of our cards piled or stacked in a big bucket), which on a near-weekly basis I suggested we "split," just because I liked blindly pulling cards out of the middle of the pile and seeing who I ended up with. I began to learn what the statistics on the back of the card meant, and they fascinated me (although it took me a while to figure out there was no such thing as a "league leader in italics tie," but that might take me too long to explain). I saw that Yankee 1B Don Mattingly not only had the best stats, but shared my birthday, and he became my favorite player (I didn't realize at the time that the Yanks were the "evil empire" of baseball).
My brother also had a Street & Smith's magazine that recapped the memorable 1986 season that I loved looking at. For some reason, the first thing I think of when I recall that magazine is a weird quote from Royals utility infielder Greg Pryor about breakfast cereal.
I'm pretty sure that the first baseball game I ever watched was that year's all star game. I remember seeing Tim Raines hit the game-winning triple in the 13th inning to win the game for the National League, which is weird, because I was a little kid and that probably means I was up pretty late. Maybe I got some extra sugar from the cardboard gum that came in those packs of baseball cards. Coincidentally, I used a "Rock Raines" glove when I played t-ball and church softball. I believe it's the only mitt I've ever owned. (Even though I've loved baseball for a long time, I never actually played Little League.)
When the playoffs began that fall, I decided it was time to pick a favorite team. (My older brother had unfathomably become a Mariners fan. I have no idea why he chose them. They were even worse then than they are now.) Out of the four 1987 playoff teams (Cardinals, Giants, Tigers, Twins) I arbitrarily chose the Tigers. I'm not sure why, but it seems probable that my dad told me that their ace pitcher Jack Morris had attended BYU, which certainly would've swayed me towards Detroit. (My dad played baseball in high school and liked sports when I was a kid, but he hates them now for some reason.) My picking skills weren't great: the Tigers lost the ALCS to the Twins and didn't reach the postseason again until 2006, with some near-record futility in between.
Baseball evokes more nostalgia and has a much more fascinating history than any other sport, in my opinion, and now you know the history of my first year as a baseball fan. (By "you," I mean Chris James and my brother Adam, because I can't imagine anyone else would still be reading at this point. But maybe I know some closet baseball fans and don't realize it. If you're out there, let's watch Game 2 together.)
Monday, October 20, 2008
Virgin is for lovers of good deals
But not for people who try to cheat the system.
My brother called me the other day to tell me that, after reading my last post and buying his own copy, he posted Virgin Mega's Simpsons DVD bargain on slickdeals.com, a website he uses. Within hours, people were leaving comments that their orders were being cancelled, with some admitting that they had tried to buy 50 copies in hopes of selling them on eBay (I'm guessing they're the ones who ruined it for everyone else).
For a few days, the Season 11 DVD set was gone entirely from the Virgin website; now it's back, but the price is $39.99. Sorry if I'm indirectly responsible for you having to pay full price to hear Springfield University star kicker Anton Lubchenko admit that communications is a phony major. "Lubchenko learn nothing. Nothing!"
And I hope Virgin doesn't figure out that I'm the one who started this whole mess; I'd be scared to read the e-mail they'd send me about magical creatures tearing my limbs off and pecking at my soul.
My brother called me the other day to tell me that, after reading my last post and buying his own copy, he posted Virgin Mega's Simpsons DVD bargain on slickdeals.com, a website he uses. Within hours, people were leaving comments that their orders were being cancelled, with some admitting that they had tried to buy 50 copies in hopes of selling them on eBay (I'm guessing they're the ones who ruined it for everyone else).
For a few days, the Season 11 DVD set was gone entirely from the Virgin website; now it's back, but the price is $39.99. Sorry if I'm indirectly responsible for you having to pay full price to hear Springfield University star kicker Anton Lubchenko admit that communications is a phony major. "Lubchenko learn nothing. Nothing!"
And I hope Virgin doesn't figure out that I'm the one who started this whole mess; I'd be scared to read the e-mail they'd send me about magical creatures tearing my limbs off and pecking at my soul.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Like a Virgin
I've always known Richard Branson was a little crazy, but I never expected this. Last week season 11 of The Simpsons came out on DVD (they just started season 20, so they're a little behind), and while searching for the best deal online I was stunned to find Virgin selling it for $4.99!
At the time I'm posting this, the deal is still on, so take advantage while you can! This is one of the last really good seasons, and includes my all-time favorite episode, "Behind the Laughter."
But there's an even better reason for doing it...shortly after making my first-ever purchase from virginmega.com, I received this e-mail:
"Dear Jeff Hofmann,
It started as a dream. You wanted the best in music, movies, fashion, electronics, books and games, so you went to Virginmega.com. You lovingly selected items and placed them lovingly in a shopping cart. Then you lovingly paid for the items, and now we're lovingly telling you that your order D08155963 has been received.
Oh, happy day!
And soon, as if by witchcraft, an email will appear in your inbox, confirming your order and hopefully making you feel oh so good."
They kept their word. Within hours, this e-mail appeared, although I'm not sure how much witchcraft was involved:
"Dear Jeff Hofmann,
Today might just be the best day of your life. Your order from VirginMega.com is confirmed.
Soon, what can only be described as an army of unicorns will descend on our stock and pull the items that you want. After that, a wizard will cast a boxing spell and enchant your items into a "box". Then, a falcon will carry the box to your house.
Actually, we'll ship it how you requested, but we're totally working on the falcon thing."
Then, two days later, they sent me this doozy:
"Dear Jeff Hofmann,
Today is your lucky day!
Your order from Virginmega.com is on its way to you! This just might go down as the second greatest day of your life, placing just after the day you receive your order and just before meeting the love of your life/having a kid or something/teaching your dog to get you stuff from the fridge/winning the lottery. In any case, this is a sweet day, so cherish it always."
I'd love to read the interoffice memos of a company that puts this much effort into its form letters. A heartless corporation has never made me feel so loved.
At the time I'm posting this, the deal is still on, so take advantage while you can! This is one of the last really good seasons, and includes my all-time favorite episode, "Behind the Laughter."
But there's an even better reason for doing it...shortly after making my first-ever purchase from virginmega.com, I received this e-mail:
"Dear Jeff Hofmann,
It started as a dream. You wanted the best in music, movies, fashion, electronics, books and games, so you went to Virginmega.com. You lovingly selected items and placed them lovingly in a shopping cart. Then you lovingly paid for the items, and now we're lovingly telling you that your order D08155963 has been received.
Oh, happy day!
And soon, as if by witchcraft, an email will appear in your inbox, confirming your order and hopefully making you feel oh so good."
They kept their word. Within hours, this e-mail appeared, although I'm not sure how much witchcraft was involved:
"Dear Jeff Hofmann,
Today might just be the best day of your life. Your order from VirginMega.com is confirmed.
Soon, what can only be described as an army of unicorns will descend on our stock and pull the items that you want. After that, a wizard will cast a boxing spell and enchant your items into a "box". Then, a falcon will carry the box to your house.
Actually, we'll ship it how you requested, but we're totally working on the falcon thing."
Then, two days later, they sent me this doozy:
"Dear Jeff Hofmann,
Today is your lucky day!
Your order from Virginmega.com is on its way to you! This just might go down as the second greatest day of your life, placing just after the day you receive your order and just before meeting the love of your life/having a kid or something/teaching your dog to get you stuff from the fridge/winning the lottery. In any case, this is a sweet day, so cherish it always."
I'd love to read the interoffice memos of a company that puts this much effort into its form letters. A heartless corporation has never made me feel so loved.
Monday, October 13, 2008
You all, everybody
Thanks to my recent injuries and illnesses, my laziness when healthy, and the full episode player on ABC.com, I have now watched all four seasons of Lost.
It's an ok show, good enough that I'll likely keep watching when new episodes resume, but I'd rank it behind 24 and Twin Peaks, which basically puts it in last place among dramas I've watched more than one season of (I'm more of a sitcom and sports kind of guy).
My opinion of the show might go up if something were to happen to Kate. She's gorgeous, but I can't stand her.
Now I need to find something else to distract me from looking for a job. I'm pretty sure I can watch old Miami Vice episodes on Hulu...
It's an ok show, good enough that I'll likely keep watching when new episodes resume, but I'd rank it behind 24 and Twin Peaks, which basically puts it in last place among dramas I've watched more than one season of (I'm more of a sitcom and sports kind of guy).
My opinion of the show might go up if something were to happen to Kate. She's gorgeous, but I can't stand her.
Now I need to find something else to distract me from looking for a job. I'm pretty sure I can watch old Miami Vice episodes on Hulu...
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