Last week two very incredible things happened to me, and they both I think have everything to do with life here in Sacto. First of all, we found out that one of my daughter’s preschool classmates lives in the house I grew up in. Her parents actually bought it from my parents about 4 years ago, and now she is one of 24 or so kids in my daughter’s class.
The second one is I think even weirder. Continue reading “Only in Sacramento…”
Late last year I wrote a post about the forming of lines in public places. My point was that we have unwritten rules in society which allow us to function in such a manner that total chaos is held in check. That, and sometimes people just suck.
Well, I’m at it again. This time I am having issues with the “rules” regarding the opening of doors for people. In general there are a few basics, right?
In many posts, we’ve shared our own experiences with people becoming more distant with each other — whether it’s not making eye contact; not returning a “hello”; or failing to say basic phrases such as “I’m sorry,” “excuse me,” “thank you,” and “yes, please.” I know this is not limited to Sacramento, but is there anything we can do about it?
Continue reading “Embrace your fellow man”
A coworker actually just said, without irony or self-awareness, “Hot enough for ya’?”
This phrase, outside of Antarctica, really lacks the punch it did 500 years ago. Especially in a town known for heat, we should really shy away from it. Don’t you think?
There are enough bosses, family members and complete strangers who solidly fill the “Having-Fun-Yet-Not-If-I-See-You-First” school of humor crowding our daily lives. Aren’t there?
It’s ok to think those folksy heat comments about whores and churches and frying eggs and hell and the devil, but it’s really better if you keep them in your head for now. Thanks.
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:
Continue reading “4th of July Traditions at the Mall”
I just noticed a new feature on Netflix that caught my eye. It’s called “Local Favorites” and it focuses on which DVD’s people from Sacramento are renting. Featured as a “Local Favorite” is the Ellen Degeneres stand-up special “The Beginning.” Hmmmm…Ellen DeGeneres is one of the top choices for Sacramento film watchers, and the Monarchs are WNBA champions…correlation?
Back in February I wrote about a vending machine at Taco Bell that was selling body tattoos and imitation gold jewelry. Well, I’m happy to report, those questionable items are no more! Did the bouncy ball make a triumphant comeback, you ask? Alas, we can only hope. No, for 25 cents these days you can own your very own power stone. Sounds innocent enough, right? Well, as you can see by the accompanied documentation, that’s open for debate.
The Web site is ooogy. Like myspace.com ooogy. Anyone have any clue what’s going on here? It could be some sort of Dungeons & Dragons thing, but I have my doubts.
“Frater, you open this gate straight away or I swear on Sacristy’s knee I will smote it asunder!” “Settle down you blustering bully. It is the middle of the night, you will surely wake the castle,” Frater hushed as he struggled to raise the heavy gate, “and you will not smote Garth Spandrel for Cinquefoil would have your hide.”
Uh, uh, ok. I think I’ll take my chances with the grills…
Seen on the westbound side of Arden Way, near Mission, a hand-lettered sign stapled to a power pole:
Night Manager
Ron [Somebody]
Home Wrecker
Hmmmmm. Trouble in the Garden of the Gods?
Today, I’m looking to complain. Specifically, I’m looking to complain about my gym. I’ve been a member of California Family Fitness for many, many years. So many years, in fact, that if I were to quit and try to re-enroll I couldn’t afford it. Therein lies my problem. You see, what bugs about this gym (and many other gyms, I am sure) are the rules.
For example, it used to be that you couldn’t access the gym without your gym card. If you did, you were hassled about not doing it again and to please pee in this cup. Then they came up with keychain cards. Great idea, problem solved. Alas, people still forgot their cards. So Cal Fit came up with a photo identity feature where your account included your basic information AND your photo to identify you if you forgot your card. Great idea, problem solved. Not so fast, you still need your card because it was taking the staff too long to look each person up who forgot their card, back to being hassled.
Continue reading “No right just rules”
For months now I’ve noticed that whenever I patronize a fast food restaurant, a grocery store, or even a medium brow eatery, I receive what I have come to term as the “look through”. Not sure if it is me or what, but for the entire length of my one on one time with the cashier I get little to no eye contact. And as if that weren’t bad enough, while said cashier is NOT looking at me (yet still maintaining the necessary verbal exchange) he or she makes it a point to “look through” me and eye everything else that is going on at that moment. It’s very frustrating.
At my local Raley’s, for example, I’ll walk up with my grocery items, set them down, say hello, and wait for them to be scanned. During this time the cashier will often times find it necessary to hold a personal conversation with the courtesy clerk about who came in late and who is going to be fired if they keep it up, or even chat with the customer behind me in line. Meanwhile, I’ll stand patiently waiting for my card to authorize feeling like an idiot who doesn’t warrant small talk. When it’s time to leave, and at that moment only, I’ll receive a last minute eye to eye contact wishing me a good day. Off I go.
Continue reading “All eyes on me or if non looks could kill”
The Sac Rag 