Category: Misc

More on the arena talks

Good discussions on the arena question the other day, so I’d like to try to keep that going. I am definitely sympathetic to those who believe that not paying the tax guarantees the Kings will skip town. We have to pay money or something bad will happen to us… I think I saw that on The Sopranos.

Talks will resume today in beautiful Las Vegas, Nevada (if you’re wondering, yesterday was apparently “exhausting but productive” according to Darrell Steinberg–more on him below). Here is an interesting tidbit from today’s update: “In Sacramento, another major cost escalator on projects over $25 million is a city requirement that workers be paid Bay Area-scale wages.” Huh? How’s that again? Part of the added cost is that the added cost adds additional cost. I don’t know how this State can afford to buy the paper that the budget is printed on (when it gets around to being printed).
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“I’m surprised you would ask such a personal question!”

Maybe it’s my sensitivity of being a newlywed who’s selling her house, but what’s up with everyone wanting to know personal financial information like how much you paid for your house and how long ago you bought it?

I realize such questions became part of the daily chatter before the real estate bubble burst, but when you think about it, how obnoxious is it for someone to boast over how much equity they have? How gauche is it for someone to ASK how much you’re making on your home sale? Why don’t we all carry around laminated copies of the previous year’s tax returns while we’re at it? Would you like to see my medical records too?

This came to light a couple weeks ago when Mr. NonRunnerButHeSwimsALot and I went to Fro’s to celebrate having faxed my signed counter-offer to my prospective buyer’s agent.
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Throwing a cheesecake at chains

I’ve had it with chains. Done. Finished. If I have to eat bark and leaves in lieu of chains, so be it.

Everything started to slide a few months ago after I got sick eating at Claim Jumper and BJ’s Restaurant & Brewhouse for two different birthday celebrations. It may sound rude, yes, but I told my significant other that I won’t be attending any more occasions held at these kind of establishments. (And if I do, it’s drinks only.)

After a disastrous dining experience at Strings on Friday night, I found myself yet again at a chain for on Saturday night for dinner with my SO’s family. This time it was the Cheesecake Factory on Arden Way.
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Return of Arena chatter

From the zombie news department, the Kings, Sacramento, and the NBA are scheduled to meet tomorrow at — in a shocking turn of events — the Palms casino in Las Vegas. For those of you playing along at home, “The most recent proposal would require voter approval for an increase in Sacramento County’s sales tax,” as opposed to those other proposals that involved paying for the arena by mortgaging the Capitol building, robbing Mick Jagger, mining for spice in Rocklin, and building the new arena out of pieces of the other two.

“The city/county interests will be represented by [Vice Mayor Rob] Fong, [Assistant City Manager John] Dangberg, [county economic development director Paul] Hahn and arena and stadium consultant Dan Barrett.” By city/county interests they apparently do not mean the interests of the citizens and residents of the city and county. With friends like this, who needs friends?

I’m willing to concede that there are plenty of people out there who would pay a tax increase to build a new stadium. But read the article, this whole deal seems extra shady with a side of sleaze. “Joe and Gavin Maloof… initiated Tuesday’s session and suggested they be held in Las Vegas to ensure the presence of George Maloof…” Was the golden jet powered by dreams in the shop that day? Shouldn’t the guys asking for me to pay an extra tax be making more of an effort?

Thoughts?

Filling in for Joe Carcione, with your Green Grocer’s Tip of the Day

Bless the fine folks at Raley’s and Bel Air. They send out a weekly e-mail with tips, recipes, and a coupon good for a quality item for free in their store.

This week you can get a free garden salad when you buy a sandwich. Other weeks have featured a free bag of romaine lettuce with a $10 purchase. I have no idea how I got on their e-mail list, but it’s the one piece of advertising I actually look forward to each week (now if they’d spam me with a coupon for free Spam, that would be funny.)

Now, I realize Raley’s and Bel Air are no Whole Foods, but who doesn’t like to patronize a home-grown business, and who doesn’t appreciate free stuff when it’s actually good for you?

Hecka Culture and the Devil

Actual conversation overheard by me at McKinley Park after work:

Girl One: I want to go somewhere different this year though.
Girl Two: Yeah. Not like somewhere hecka touristy either.
Girl One: I know. I want to go somewhere with like hecka museums and hecka restaurants and, just like…
Girl Two: Hecka culture.
Girl One: Yeah. But definitely not like hecka tourists though.
Girl Two: Maybe like Greece or something.

The next day at the farmer’s market I saw a dude wearing a T-shirt that said, “THE DEVIL IS A PIMP. DON’T BE HIS HO.” Now, I ask you: is there not hecka culture right here in Sacramento? And not even hecka tourists either?

4th of July Traditions at the Mall

So, the Mrs. and I went with some friends to dinner (thanks Mike, for picking up the tab) at California Pizza Kitchen at Arden Fair mall. (Go for the Jamaican Jerk chicken pizza, it’s great: chicken, peppers onions, jerk sauce and of course, bacon. The waiter didn’t appreciate my aside when I asked him how the Jamaican Jerk compares to the Haitian Asshole.) Anyway, we wound up taking so long that we were sitting with a ringside seat when the Cal Expo fireworks went off. It was rather entertaining, watching 4th of July fireworks from the window of a chain mall restaurant, entertaining and relaxing.

The point of this, though, is to chronicle what we saw on our way out of the Arden Fair parking lot:
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Drivers beware!

My brother was first in line at Fry’s this morning to snap up a refurbed GPS for under $200. He has wanted one for a year, even though he knows every street in the county and is the only one I know who can make it from Kennedy to Jesuit during rush hour in a half-hour. (He has his secrets, and won’t share them.)

He is now on his way to the airport, to pick up a friend of ours coming in from Baton Rouge. (I love saying “Baton Rouge.” So much more fun than “Red Stick,” don’t you think?)

“But … you KNOW how to get to the airport,” I said, pointing out the patently obvious. “You’ve been there a million times. Hell, you used to WORK there. You don’t need a computer to tell you the way.”

“Ahh, but does the GPS know how to get there?” he replies. “THAT’s the question!”

I’m going to assume it does, and not bother with an update. Boys and their toys! Sheesh!

Where’s my sushi, Nick?

OK, remember what I said the other day about treating everyone nicely (yes, Kit, including hipsters)?

The one exception is Nick from Ameriprise Financial. “Who’s Nick from Ameriprise?” you may ask yourself.

Answer: He’s the guy who called me to tell me that he’d plucked my business card out of the fishbowl at Kamon Sushi, entitling me and nine of my friends to a complimentary sushi lunch.

I immediately called my hubby, and we brainstormed on our favorite sushi eaters who would be on the invitation list (yes, you were all on the list), and we compared Outlook calendars to coordinate good days for our complimentary lunch.
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