The Bosque

I have no clue what "normal" is anymore...it pretty much disappeared on the 6th day of this year. Not that I'm complaining, mind you...but I do kinda miss normalcy.

Here it is, the end of April. I'm supposed to go back to work on Tuesday, but it'll only be for 4 hours a day. I gotta make sure that all of Rho's things are packed and ready to go by June 17th. Then I gotta make sure that all my stuff is ready to go by July 8th. Then I have to get settled in St. Louis...new job, living with the parents again, etc. etc.

Though my task list is enormous, and things are going to be really crazy for the next few months, I know I'll get through it. I'm pretty good at handling adverse situations...this'll just be another notch on my belt. I just have to remember that I'll (hopefully) be in a better situation in the end.

So, if you see me losing my mind over the next few months, don't sweat it too much. Though if it happens more than 3 days in a row, let Wolf know.

Awww! Wolf already put one up for today. She rules! Give it up for Wolf for guest hosting the Manifestos over the past week!

And yes...this Manifesto was written by the One, the Only, the Oddball...Sycamore in the cyberflesh...owww! *snaps his fingers*

So my mom and I rolled into Philadelphia around 1:30 yesterday afternoon. The drive back was good...about 15 hours total, made minimal stops, didn't have to kill Mom.

I drove her around town for a bit yesterday, then we checked into the Holiday Inn near the Sports Complex. Maybe we've caught them at a bad time--the Penn Relays are currently happening, and the Phillies start a series with the Florida Marlins tonight at CB Park--but our room sucks. It stinks, there appear to be some electrical issues, the shower has mildew in it and the staff isn't very helpful or friendly. I'm back at the apartment to do some laundry...and write a Manifesto.

I know that it won't be all puppy kisses and flowers when I move back to St. Louis...having left and come back twice already, I suspect that I'll get sick of it again in the near future. But I had a great time. I have a nice car now, a nice place to live, friends to hang out with, bars to close down...once I get a job, I'm set.

Now I'm back here in Philadelphia...a city that I love, but that feels like purgatory now. In an apartment that I like, but that's not really a home anymore. And with an ex-fiance/roommate that I love, but don't want to be around.

My original plan was to be out of Philly by mid-to-late September, though I had hoped that I could leave sooner. Thanks to some financial maneuvering, now I can. I'm buying out our lease...Rho's leaving June 18th, and I'm leaving July 9th.

So...if you were planning on throwing me a good-bye party, you better get started on it now. :)

(And you better believe that I'll be at Forks!)

This Manifesto was written by guest host wolf

He's gone, missing, and dammit, he charged me with this sacred quest to make sure that not a day gets missed.

So maybe, hopefully, there will be two manifestos today, one Guest, and one actual.

But as of right now ...

Where the hell is Sycamore?

I even text messaged the pimpin' phone, but so far no response.

All I can guess is that one of several things happened ...

Sycamore is lost in Pittsburgh.

MomSycamore made the fatal mistake of just one too many instances of passenger seat driving ... (I can't withstand the drive to Rhode Island with my mom ... she gets some tranquilizers and I wake her up when we get there).

They passed through Lancaster and MomSycamore had to go to the outlets, because of course, they don't have low price brand name anything in any state other than Pennsylvania. Oh geez, wait until she finds out about the no sales tax on clothing thing ...

The new pimpin' car is up on a rack somewhere and a mechanic with no teeth and a large boat to pay for is telling him something expensive is wrong and Sycamore is pretending to understand it.

Whereever you are, I hope you are enjoying yourself. See you at dinner.

Today's Manifesto was written by guest host wolf

Originally this segment was to be titled "Sycamore is a Big Pussy," but I heard a news item while listening to conservative talk radio as I was handloading some ammo this morning, and I had a better idea ...

Our beloved Helis has returned to us. Eight days ago he departed our shores, presumably to return home to share the Gospel of the Whale Penis with his whale wife and his whale children, to tell them of the sights and sounds of Philadelphia, and to tell tales of the exciting tastes of the Delaware River.

This morning I learn, with much joy, that Helis, the White Beluga Whale, and, of course, his proud whale penis, long may it wave, has returned to Philadelphia.

Surely, it is a sign ... he left as Sycamore was journeying to the landlocked climes of Missouri, and as he returns here, venturing bravely across the plains and mountains, so does Helis return ... venturing bravely into the waters of the Schuylkill River this time ... He knew that he would not find the Church of the Whale Penis in the Delaware, took a few days to get his bearings, and moved forth into the cool, somewhat suspect waters from which is drawn the miraculous healing liquid of the Sure-Kill Punch.

It is a sign!! Sycamore must remain in Philadelphia, for it is here that he has found his home and his destiny!

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~

Shit. I still need to fill some more space.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he is running back home to mommy.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he has absolutely no musical taste.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he watches reruns of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he thinks streetwear is still cool at his age.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he has a collection of stuffed rabbits.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he claims to live in Germantown, when rather than actually living in the hood, he's in a high rise apartment building with a security guard whose purpose it is to keep Germantown out of the complex.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he has more than one men's fragrance to choose from in his possession.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he actually researched moving to Canada when Kerry lost.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he roots for the Eagles just because he's living in Philadelphia.

Sycamore is a big pussy because he thinks being called a "pimp" is a good thing.

Salutations from Triadelphia, West Virginia! We just got to the hotel where we're staying for the night. They actually have a computer in the lobby...sweet!

More later...need to drop our stuff off at our room.

Today's Manifesto was written by guest host wolf

Over the past couple of years I've really cut back on my soda intake, so when I do have one, it's a very special treat for me.

When I have it, I want it sweet, and flavorful.

More often than not, I'll go for a Coke Classic, as that is the most perfected of all beverages, with Dr. Pepper being a very close second. There is something in the taste of a really good fountain Dr. Pepper that's so totally different from the bottled variety that I really miss. I went through a phase where I really liked Pepsi Blue, mostly because it was blue. It didn't really taste blue enough to suit me ... that's a privilege reserved for Blue Sky Soda (not the organic soda people. This stuff was colored electric blue, and tasted as blue as the gumball in the bottom of a Comet water ice thingy that you got from the Ice Cream Man that rode around your neighborhood in the truck with the happy jingle and the clown pictures on the side. A-Treat Blue soda is almost right, but still, not blue-tasting enough)

But tonight, on the way home from the nuthouse, I decided that I wanted to have a Sprite.

A nice, simple, crisp, clean, refreshing Sprite.

Now, I haven't been living in a box, I know there are different flavors of Sprite. I fell for the advertising and really liked the Tropical Remix variety, even though the loud rap music of the movie theater ad painfully assaulted my delicate, shell-like ears (if I'm going to damage my hearing, I'll do it the old fashioned way ... shooting without earplugs, or standing too close to the speakers at a rock and roll show). I even went along and tried the Berryclear Remix when it hit the shelves and started competing with the Tropical. Yeah, the Berryclear. That's good stuff.

That's what I wanted.

Nice and simple, flavored-flavored soda.

I'd spent the last 8 hours slamming down the caffienated beverages ... a little sugary goodness to help me coast into home, and keep me going long enough to wade through some email, pick out a movie to watch later ... yeah, something that would go well with Jesus Christ Superstar ... Pull into the 7-11, say hi to Dorothy, the nice 7-11 midnight lady who always seems to be restocking the donuts when I come in ...

Dammit.

They've done it to me again.

They've changed the damn flavor.

These kids today, they can't make up their minds.

All they understand is change-change-change-change-change.

Can't they leave things well enough alone!!

Oh the humanity!!!

There's a new Remix Flavor I have to deal with.

Bastards.

It's so new it's not even on the Sprite Remix Website yet.

I don't know what I'm tasting!!!!!

It's kind of Strawberry.

And maybe Pineapple.

And something kind of tart ...

and

Dammit.

I like it.

Bastards.

Last week in rehab, we discussed ways to better handle stress. This gentleman probably could have benefited from our discussions.

From today's Philadelphia Inquirer: Stanford A. Douglas Jr. told police that, for seven years, he thought about killing William L. Berkeyheiser over a perceived racial slur when the two men worked together at a care facility in Philadelphia.

On March 27, he finally did so, riddling Berkeyheiser with bullets from a semiautomatic handgun on the porch of Berkeyheiser's Upper Makefield Township home, Bucks County District Attorney Diane Gibbons said yesterday.

"That's the reason he gave us for it, that he was offended by a seven-year-old joke," Gibbons said. She called it the strangest murder motive she could recall.

April and I have been friends for 7 years. We both worked together at Commerce Bank of St. Louis, and have kept in touch since I left town.

Unfortunately, the last time I saw her was 2 years ago, when I came home to pick up Mónica (the Escort wagon). I called her when I was in town in September, but she never called me back. I sent her an Xmas card with my new address, phone # and e-mail address...still didn't hear anything. I left her a message last weekend, telling her that I was coming home this weekend. Nothing.

At this point, I figured she was either:

--Really really busy (last time we talked, she was the director of a YMCA)
--Really really pissed at me (I can't remember doing anything that would upset/anger her)
--Really really dead (!!!)

Last Tuesday, I sent her a letter, telling her that I would be home this weekend, and gave her my parents phone #, my cell # and my e-mail address. I figured it would get to her by Friday...Saturday at the latest.

While I was walking yesterday morning, I debated whether I should quit trying...I hadn't yet stopped by her house (I knew that at the very least, her mom and sister still lived there--or at least had the same phone #) or by her work (she worked at a Y not too far from my parents' place). But I didn't want to come across as crazy stalker man...plus, I didn't know whether she still worked at the same Y. After giving it some thought, I decided that I would make no further attempts: I think 3 phone calls and a letter over 7 months is enough.

When I got back from driving around yesterday afternoon, I saw that I had a voice mail on my cell phone, and it came from an unfamiliar local phone #. Several people here in St. Louis have my cell #, so I wasn't sure who it was.

Sure enough...it was April. She said she got my letter and wants to go out for dinner tonight. Finally! Although, maybe she wants to go to dinner to tell me what an ass I am in front of a bunch of people. Or maybe it wasn't really her.

*goes to look for his tinfoil hat*

In my 13 years of driving, I've had a few pimp rides, most notably my 1973 Chrysler New Yorker. And I started young--I bought the New Yorker when I was 17. My brother (who is 22) has taken a different path--he's owned 2 Escorts, 2 S-10s and a couple of tinker jobs. But today, I am pleased to announce that he is on the path to righteousness.

Last week, the guy that lives across the street from my parents decided to sell his car--he thought the transmission was shot. My brother suspected otherwise, and bought the car for $100. Turns out that the only apparent problem with the transmission was that it was leaking...he fixed that, and it's fine now. Now, my brother doesn't need this car--he has a 2001 S-10--but he just wanted something to fix up and play with.

And the car that he bought? A 1979 Mercury Cougar:







Isn't it fucking awesome?! I'm so proud of him...I might even shed a tear.

We took it to the gas station yesterday, and filled it up: 21 gallons, $43. And did I mention that the gas gauge doesn't work?

I can't wait to help fix up this baby...it's gonna rule!

Hey peeps...just thought I'd check in and say hey.

My flight to Chicago was relatively uneventful...just a bit of turbulence. It felt like it took forever to get there though. I dunno...maybe it's because the plane was full and I don't like being packed into a tight space.

When I was last at Chicago Midway Airport in the summer of '98, it was in the midst of a massive construction project, part of which involved a new terminal to replace the old one. It's nice...a lot better than the old one. And the airport is still as busy as I remember.

My brother Tim and I had lunch at one of my favorite restaurants in Chi-town (Jalapeño Rock at Cicero and Marquette), then drove around town for a while. Traffic was a nightmare...makes Philadelphia look like a picnic. By the time we got out of town, it was almost 7. We made good time after that, though...got to the 'rents house around 10:45.

Saw my car for all of 10 seconds or so...no use in checking it out now, since it's dark and all.

It feels good to be home...the only thing I have to stress me out here is the fact that my parents still have dial-up. WTF?!

Adios for now...

Today's Manifesto was written by guest host wolf

I have known for a brief while that the opportunity would present itself to let me live out a life-long dream, that I would be selected for the great honor of writing a Special Guest Manifesto.

Okay, maybe that's too strong.

Sycamore decided to pimp out the Manifestos last week. I agreed, thinking that I would have some significant lead time before I actually had to produce anything.

But no. As a consequence of the Great Car Crisis of 2005, I have to do it this week.

NOW.

To-FUCKING-day.

So, I end up in crunch mode, under pressure, needing to come up with something right away.

What do I write about?

This is a damn lot of responsibility here.

There's so much material. We have a new Pope, with a smudgy, if not exactly dark past, who seems to fulfill a Prophecy of doubtful provenance. Sycamore covered that already.

We've just passed Patriot's Day, and with it, the anniversaries of Oklahoma City, Waco, and Columbine.

Some guy in Missouri spit on Jane Fonda.

Michael Jackson is still a total fucking weirdo, and his being found guilty or not guilty will not change that one whit.

Locally, a kid murdered his mom because she wouldn’t give him his own AOL account. But I already posted about that one, so it’s not really fair game.

I could write a really great manifesto on the usefulness of firearms ownership, if I had an extra couple of weeks to do the research and come up with a fresh angle rather than parroting what 10K other pro-gun bloggers might have to say.

I could expound on exactly how much of a whale penis Sycamore really is.

I could ...

Well, I started on a line of questioning why we do this anyway? What drives us to write, to blog, to participate in an online community? Why do people do this? Some folks have at least a small, but loyal following, but there are a lot of writers out there with personal blogs that nobody ever sees, nobody ever finds. What about them?

What is it about the anonymity of communication available through the internet that drives people to then share what are often extraordinarily personal details and minutiae of their lives ... and what is it that makes people want to read them?

(I turned to Google for help with this question, but there are only so many essays that you can read using words like “deconstruction” and “neocommunication”. I have a personal policy that I stop reading anything that uses the word “deconstruction”. If the words “ontologically” and “semiotically” appear in close proximity, I burn the offending manuscript so that it may not harm others.)

There’s one guy who tried to do a final project for a class on blogging and why people feel compelled to do it, but he screwed the pooch on that one, running out of time for his research, presumably because he was spending all his time either blogging about his research, or getting caught up in reading other people’s blogs.

I think that makes him a meta-failure.

Or at least a dumbass.

But if he couldn’t figure it out in the space of what should have been some months (although his blog only covers a span of a few weeks), what the hell am I supposed to come up with in a couple hundred words?

I see it as another means of interacting with people. Exchanging information. Bragging about the length of your whale penis, in a setting where you can choose to take the time to express yourself well and clearly, or shoot from the hip. But a method of discussion that retains semi permanence. Shit that goes down in a chatroom is over and done with and forgotten in the space of a few minutes of text scrolling up your screen. Words in a forum like this stay put as long as the owner is able to maintain them.

It’s our Rosetta stone, our Nag Hamadi manuscript. The internet is our Great Library of Alexandria waiting for the Conquerors to set fire to the heretical manuscripts so carefully stored within. This is where we will all actually get those 15 minutes that Andy Warhol promised us, so long ago.

Are we on the cutting edge, or are we just graffiti on the walls of an electronic Jericho?

I do this because it’s fun.

I don’t need any more reason than that.

A little while ago, I was sitting here at the computer, going through some music files. I finished ripping all my CDs to MP3s (all 508 of 'em) a couple of hours ago.

I then heard my apartment door open, and it sounded like it was opened with a key. It's about 8 feet to the right of me, so I quickly glanced over.

I didn't see anyone at the door, so I walked over, opened the door, and looked out in the hallway. Nothing.

Either I didn't completely close the door when I got back from my walk earlier tonight, or...

Aaaaaaaaaah!

So...Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger of Germany, head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, was elected Pope yesterday, and took the name Benedict XVI.

As a former Catholic, I think it's an interesting choice. He'll keep the Church on its current path, which should satisfy devoted and newer Catholics. And I think the choice sends a message to liberal Catholics and many in the US and Western Europe: We're not changing for you.

And that may not be a bad thing. If Catholics in the US and Western Europe really want things to change--women priests, birth control, homosexuality, etc.--then perhaps they should take the changes into their own hands. The Episcopalians and Anglicans in Canada are probably two steps from being booted from the Anglican Communion...why not join forces with them? There seem to be a lot of commonalities between the two.

Besides...who wouldn't want to see a good schism?

During a phone call with my mom yesterday, she said that she thought it would be a good idea if I had someone drive back with me to Philadelphia next week. And she volunteered to be one to come along. I agreed with her...it's a long drive (17 hours total), and I can't drive like I used to. So, she'll drive out here with me Wednesday and Thursday, then fly back to St. Louis on Saturday.

This is going to be interesting...being in a car with my mom for 2 days. I can see it now...

--She'll tell everyone that we're not locals
--She'll get on me about my music
--She'll get on me about driving too fast
--She'll freak out once we get into Pennsylvania (driving through the mountains and dealing with the roads)

It's a small price to pay, though...after all, her and my stepdad just bought me a car.

And so, since my mom will be in town for a few days next week, I want to get a few people together for dinner next Friday. Not sure where yet...nothing too "exotic," because my mom will get scared. Maybe Johnny Mañana's in East Falls.

Anyone game?

Around 8:30 Saturday night, I left the apartment to go pick up dinner at a local pizza joint. As I was pulling Rho's car out of its parking spot, I smelled what seemed to be smoke from a fire. And as I pulled away, I saw some in front of me, and saw some people standing around on the other side of the lot, looking my way. I wondered if something was up, but didn't think it had anything to do with Rho's car, so I kept going and left the complex. And once I left the complex, the smoke disappeared.

15 minutes later, I was driving down Rittenhouse near the entrance to our complex, and I saw an ambulance and a couple of fire trucks at the entrance. I'll be damned...

I called Rho and asked her if the fire alarms were going off...she said that they were, but thought it was a false alarm. I decided to park the car on the street, and see what was going on.

I parked the car and walked up the hill to the complex...I think I saw 4 fire trucks, a couple of police cars, an ambulance and a Battalion Chief on the grounds. All total, I think that there were 6 fire trucks, 4 police cars, 2 ambulances and a Battalion Chief in the area. There was indeed a fire--on the fourth floor, overlooking the parking lot we use. It was just about out when I got up there...the firefighters were breaking out windows and hosing things down.

I then called Rho back...she had called the front desk, and they wanted everyone to evacuate our building, even though our apartment wasn't affected. Because she can't get around very well, they sent a firefighter up to get her.

After about an hour or so, we (except for 4th floor residents) were allowed to go back to our apartments. I didn't see anyone go to or leave in an ambulance, so I don't think that there were any injuries, though I wasn't around them the whole time.

We have that condo meeting tonight, so I'm going to try and find out what happened Saturday and 3 weeks ago. If both fires were due to dumbass tenants, that's not cool, but I can handle that. What concerns me, though, is that these fires might have been due to electrical problems. They've been working on the electrical system off and on since we've lived here. Then there is this whole going condo deal...

I'll take my tinfoil hat in a size 7 3/4, unless it's adjustable...

In case you haven't noticed, things have been--interesting--around Sycamoreland lately.

Friday afternoon, I told my parents about Mónica's demise. Later that night, my mom calls me back.

Mom: "If you could buy a car right now, what kind would you want?"

Syc: "I can't afford a car right now!"

Mom: "I know...but if you could...would you be interested in a (Chevy) Malibu?"

Syc: "Well, yeah...they're nice. I'd prefer a Monte Carlo though."

When we ended our conversation Friday night, we had come to the conclusion that my parents would help me purchase a car once I move back to St. Louis.

This afternoon, I was out and about, when I saw that I had a voicemail. It was my mom, at their local Enterprise (where they've purchased their last 2 cars), asking me how I'd feel about a sand-colored Malibu.

So, I call her back...

"We bought you a car."

Huh?! What the fuck?!

Sure enough...they bought this car:



It's a 2003 Chevy Malibu with 36,000 miles...light driftwood metallic. Fully loaded. Payments will be a tad over $200 a month. It's not really a Sycamore car, but I'll make it one in no time!

The agreement with my parents is pretty simple: They pay for the car until I move home and get on my feet. Then I take over the payments. Works for me.

This has been a really sucky ass year thus far...but this car is a huge pick-me-up. My parents rule...for now, at least. :)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a trip to St. Louis to plan...

It is with great sadness that I announce the death of Mónica, my 1994 Ford Escort wagon, age 11, driven 99,000 miles. The engine is severely damaged, and the car will go to a salvage yard on Monday.

My mom bought the car brand new in September 1994...I remember driving it when it only had 51 miles on it. When I transferred from Southeast Missouri State to UM-St. Louis in 1996, it was my primary method for getting to and from school for over a year. One day, while driving along I-170 North in Overland, MO, I ran over what I thought was a chunk of snow, but turned out to be a huge rock--and put a nice dent in the car, just under the door. In April 2003, my mom purchased a new car, and sold me Mónica for $100. I promptly drove it to Chicago, back to St. Louis, then 17 hours straight-through to Philadelphia. While on the East Coast, it went to Ocean City, MD; the Jersey Shore and New England.





It will be greatly missed. :(

I'm not a huge Metallica fan, but a big enough fan that when they release a new CD, I buy it within a month of its release. I bought St. Anger on the day it was released. Unfortunately, I was quite disappointed with it, and haven't listened to it since shortly after its release.

But having watched "When Metallica Ruled the World" and "Some Kind of Monster" on VH1 last weekend, I decided to give St. Anger another listen. Maybe I'll dig it now...or maybe it can grow on me.

Well, I'm on track 8 right now ("Sweet Amber"), and I'm just not digging the CD. The first 3 songs are good (though track 3 is too long), but the following 5 are unimpressive.

Though the songs could be better, I think the real problem with this disc is the production...it's too dirty. Everything sounds muddled...like it's a copy of a friend's copy of a friend's copy of the real thing. The sound just doesn't work for these songs...and I don't think it works for Metallica in general.

Back to the CD rack for another year or two...

From yesterday's Philadelphia Inquirer: A beluga whale, whose normal range is defined by the Arctic Circle, has somehow found its way into the Delaware River, making it as far north as Trenton.

This whale came from the Arctic Circle, swam all the way down to the southern tip of New Jersey, turned right into Delaware Bay and headed up the Delaware River past Philadelphia to Trenton. That's wild!

Maybe it was really hungry for a cheesesteak and a soft pretzel.

Unfortunately, it could be in trouble. From what I heard tonight, it can survive two weeks in fresh water, but it may have been here as early as 10 days ago. And the Delaware is a busy river...lots of traffic for it to avoid--and vice versa. Then there's the pollution in the river...it probably swam through remnants of the December oil spill on the way up here.

Hopefully, they can force it south tomorrow. At the very least, they could stick him in the Adventure Aquarium...it's on the way to the Bay.

Sometime in the past, I heard someone either comment or joke about turning a human skull into a bong. Maybe I thought it up myself...I dunno...

Now comes a case of someone that apparently wanted to do it for real...from the Chicago Sun-Times (full article posted due to its small size):

MORRISVILLE, Vt. -- A 17-year-old was being held on $100,000 bail after police said he raided a tomb in a cemetery and removed a head from a corpse.

Police believe they have a strong case against Nickolas Buckalew because remains were found in a silo near the suspect's home. Court documents said the suspect allegedly talked of using the man's head as a bong.

I first heard about it on Glenn Beck's show this morning. It must be developing...I only found 2 sources for this story, both from this morning.

After 6 years on the East Coast of the US, including the last 5 in Philadelphia, I will be moving back to St. Louis sometime this summer. I don't have a date set in stone yet, but it will probably be sometime in September.

Rhoda and I split up recently, and a life review was in order...a "Where do we go from here?" discussion with myself. And here's what came out of that discussion:

--I'm 29, in poor health and my credit is shot.
--I have a few friends here in Philadelphia, but no family.
--I love Philadelphia, but I don't want to stay here permanently.
--I don't care for my job, and the prospects here suck.
--If I stay here, I could probably stay afloat on my own, but not very well. And I don't like roommates.

So, after careful consideration, I think the best thing for me to do is to go home, regroup, and start fresh.

As to what I'm going to do once I get there...good question. My current plans are to find a job and rent a place with my brother. There is a remote possibility that I could work something out with my current employer and avoid job hunting. We'll see...

Since I was a teenager, I've wanted to live in Chicago--it's like my Mecca. Given that I'll only be 5 hours away by car again, I might yet be able to fulfill that dream.

My time here in Philadelphia has been...interesting, to say the least. I've met some great people here, and have had some great times. But it's time to go.

I'll be announcing a last gathering in Philadelphia soon. And I'll probably throw a couple of G'Town/Mt. Airy/CH Happy Hours between now and then.

And the Bosque will go on once I get home...you'll just hear me rant about St. Louis instead of Philadelphia. St. Louis is a lot like Philadelphia, only smaller, and without cheesesteaks.

And no...we don't all know each other there. :)

Recently, I've been thinking about buying a brand-new car. I've never had one before, and it'd be nice to go that route for a change, instead of taking a chance on a used one (yes...USED...not "pre-owned"). After looking around and doing some research, I've narrowed my choices down to 2.

Of course, God only knows when I'll be able to afford a new car. By the time I can, these 2 cars will probably no longer be made. But it's good to dream, and have a goal to shoot for...

Car #1:



I'm not sure what it is about Saabs, but I really like them. And the 9-2x is sharp, particularly the Aero trim. Too bad I can't get it in forest green.

Car #2:



When I'm at home, I usually drive my stepdad's '02 Monte Carlo. I love it. My only complaint is that it's front-wheel drive, compared to its days of yore. But I can deal with that.

Above is the 2006 model, which comes out later this year. The SS will have a 5.3 liter V8 that puts out 303 hp, yet gets good gas mileage (17 mpg city/27 highway). Finally...GM is putting V8's back in regular cars!

Incidentally, if you have an extra $35K sitting around, feel free to send it my way. :)

As part of my plan to break free from The Man, I recently signed up with Google and Amazon to make money through putting their ads on the Gateway.

(That would be at http://thebosque.us . Click on the Google ads. And if you don't like the CD Picks I have up for Amazon, click on one of them, then pick other stuff to buy. Help a brother out, will ya? :))

The neat thing about the Google ads is that they're based on the content of the Manifestos. For example, two of the recent Manifestos were about baseball and Pope John Paul II. As I type this, there are a few ads for Boston Red Sox merchandise and one for a Kabbalah bracelet.

So...let's see what ads we get after this Manifesto...

whale penis
polka dots
large firm breasts
dishwasher
pie crust
obfuscation
pornography
forest green
St. Louis
Pulp Fiction
sycamore
Ministry
dryer sheet

A two-fer today!

From Philly.com: "I've been thrown so many curveballs on 2-0 counts when everyone else is getting damn fastballs down the middle," he said. "If people knew what I've gone through and had to adapt to, they'd probably feel sorry for me. You have to know my story to know my glory."

Poor Freddie Mitchell...boo fucking hoo.

Yesterday afternoon, the doorbell rang. I was immediately suspicious...no one ever comes here unless we order delivery.

It turned out to be nothing major...okay, maybe it was major. But the guy was harmless...he was just here to deliver a letter...

...a letter announcing that the owner of our apartment complex wants to go condo.

For those unaware, there is a huge housing boom in Philadelphia right now, including condos. And some neighborhoods are very much in right now, mostly in or around Center City. I believe WWD's is still one of those 'hoods (or are you guys post-boom now?).

People are now starting to get priced out down there, and their eyes are now turning towards my part of town. There are some fine houses up here; more diversity than most areas; relatively easy access to a good chunk of the metro area; and in Germantown, the prices are still fairly low.

The former apartment complex across the street from me is currently being turned into townhouses. I don't think they're going to get $349,000 for each of them (they were originally $399K), but what do I know? This makes me wonder...granted, I don't know the details of will become The Rittenhouse Park Condominium yet, but what is my place worth? I bet my apartment could fetch $100K easily...maybe more. And it's rinky-dink, and not updated like many of the apartments here (to my knowledge, the updated apartments have microwaves and dishwashers).

All of this means nothing to me, since I'm going back home in September. But I'm going to go to the meeting, see what they have to say and give the folks on PB the inside scoop. I've never lived in a place that has converted, so it'll be a good education as well.

Details in 2 weeks...

...it just makes sense to get a skinhead cut, right? Right!



At least it looks better than the unkempt look.

I sure hope so.

Winter was weird this year. It snowed a lot, but most of it came on 2 weekends. And it was cold, but not bitterly cold...cold enough to keep snow on the ground for quite a while. And then Spring came, but it still felt like Winter for the first week. Then it got a bit warm last week...and today it was 84. I like warm weather, but that's too warm too soon. 65-75...cool. Over 75 in April...too warm.

I hope that we're not in for a super-hot summer...my electric bills were horrible last summer.

On April 5, 2005 we increased the variable Annual Percentage Yield on the FDIC-Insured Orange Savings Account to 3.00%!

This applies to all Orange Savings Account Customers no matter what your balance is or how long you've been with us.

I've had a savings account with ING Direct for a couple of years now, and love it: a higher interest rate than a regular bank, 6 withdrawals a month, easy and quick transfers of money from ING to your regular bank accounts and the website is easy to use. Plus, ING is an actual bank, just like Wachovia and Bank of America. They also offer other products, including CDs and mortgages.

So, if you're looking to save some extra money, and are tired of dealing with the regular banks, I highly recommend ING.

No, I'm not getting paid by these guys, other than the 3% interest rate. I'm just really impressed with them, and am becoming less of a fan of regular banks.

From MSNBC: Consumer Reports magazine is taking renewed aim at a popular air purifier made by The Sharper Image two months after it fended off a libel lawsuit filed by the machine’s retailer.

I thought that the Ionic Breeze was neat, yet costly (though given that it's a Sharper Image product, the two go hand-in-hand). But I was unaware that Consumer Reports had panned it, nor did I know that Sharper Image tried to sue Consumers Union. Perhaps that explains why I haven't seen countless commercials for it recently.

I love baseball. It's not my favorite sport (that would be hockey), and MLB is a freaking mess right now, but I still love the game. I haven't been this excited about a season since 1998--the year that Mark McGwire hit 70 home runs.

And even if you're not much of a fan of the sport, you should keep up with it this year, if only for the drama, plot twists and feel-good stories that will emerge. Some things to watch out for:

--The Red Sox are defending a championship...yes, the Red Sox are defending a championship. They got their asses whupped last night, but that was only game 1. They have another good team this year, and could easily win another World Series.

--The Cardinals' middle infield has changed, but is still solid. Meanwhile, the pitching staff is healthy, and they added Mark Mulder to the rotation. A Cards-Sox World Series rematch is a strong possibility.

--For the first time in 34 years, there is baseball in Washington, DC. After playing the last few years in Limbo (Montreal and San Juan), the Expos have moved to DC, where they will hopefully get a good owner and loyal fans. The team could be the surprise of the NL East.

--The Phillies, as much as I love them, won't do shit this year. Fans will storm CB Park with torches demanding Ed Wade's head by July.

--Will Barry Bonds come back and become the all-time home run king? Hank Aaron doesn't deserve to lose his record to a piece of shit like Bonds.

First pitch here in Philadelphia is at 3:05 today, as the Phillies take on the Nationals. The Cardinals start tomorrow night in Houston.

And as Ernie Banks once said, "It's a great day for a ball game; let's play two!"

I was not the biggest fan of Pope John Paul II, but the man had incredible conviction and courage, and reached out to people of all faiths. For being a "representative of God," he was rather down-to-Earth...at the very least, more down-to-Earth than you would expect.

I was in St. Louis during his 1999 visit, and the energy he brought to town was just awesome. For two days, St. Louis felt like the center of the world.

Whenever I think of his visit, the first thing I think of is the youth rally that was held at Savvis Center on the first night. The St. Louis Blues had given him a Blues jersey and a hockey stick...and he played around with the hockey stick for a minute, looking like he was ready for a faceoff...too funny.

Rest in peace, Holy Father...

I've had several jobs over the past 5 years, as has my brother. My mom has had 3 jobs in the past 20 years, and has been at her current one for 13.

My stepdad has had one job...in the past 41 years. Well, there were his two stints in the Army, but other than that, just that one job--as a master mechanic for Sunmark, the company that brought you Tangy Taffy, Pixy Stix, SweeTarts, Spree and various Willy Wonka candies. Sunmark was bought by Rountree in 1986, which in turn was bought by Nestlé two years later. Once Nestlé took over, Laffy Taffy and Bit-O-Honey were added to the mix at the original Affton plant, where my stepdad has worked all but his first year with the company (he worked at their Sunline Brands plant in South St. Louis during his first year). He hems and haws about the job, and has told management to stick it where the sun don't shine on several occasions, yet he almost never takes a day off, shows up on time, works hard and is well-liked and well-respected by fellow employees.

His morning routine is like clockwork: coffee, shave, paper, several cigarettes, coffee in thermos, out the door by 5 after 6. It almost never changed in the 17 years we lived together.

But change appears likely--Nestlé is closing its 3 plants in St. Louis beginning later this year.

My stepdad is going to be 61 in September, so we're hoping that they'll offer him early retirement. He's supposed to meet with HR folks in the coming weeks. And my mom isn't about to let him just hang out at home once he's done at Nestlé, so he'll probably be picking up a new part-time gig around this time next year.

I've always admired my stepdad for his work ethic...I only wish mine were as good. Hopefully he'll be well-rewarded for all his hard work over the years.

You all might have heard about the new mega breakfast sandwich from Burger King, the Enormous Omelet Sandwich: two eggs, two pieces of American cheese, 3 strips of bacon and a sausage patty on a toasted sesame seed bun. 730 calories, 47 grams of fat. For a fast-food breakfast sandwich, it's pretty good, and worth its $3 cost. I first had one on Wednesday.

This morning, I decided to have one for breakfast, so I headed over to the BK around the corner from my house and ordered one.

"We don't have any eggs right now. Do you still want to order it?"

Hmmm...well, the sandwich is called the Enormous Omelet Sandwich, which tells me that it has eggs in it. In fact, that part of the reason I wanted the sandwich. So, no, I do not want an egg-less Enormous Omelet Sandwich, dummy!

(I realize that I'm probably being too hard on them. But the eggs help make the sandwich. A bacon and sausage sandwich just doesn't seem right to me.)

Fortunately, there's another BK on N. Broad St., about 15 minutes away...and they had eggs. And all was right again.