"Somebody Open A Window, I'm Firing Up The Hibachi."

In our continuing preparation for the arrival of Baby Girl Hailey, tonight we took a tour of the labor and delivery pavilion at Anne Arundel Medical Center. They talk about protocols, visitor procedure, show you the delivery rooms, etc. All in all, very informative and worthwhile. Especially the part when our tour guide showed us the area where refreshments were kept for the expectant moms. Our guide, lamenting the fact that these refreshments were for moms only, suggested that expectant dads bring a cooler from home fully stocked with sodas and sandwiches for the long haul. What I heard? HOSPITAL SANCTIONED TAILGATING as I await the birth of our daughter.

A "Gamble" I Don't Think I Can Make.

A few days ago, in response to my brief post lamenting the dearth of quality presidential candidates, St4rbux suggested Bob Barr as a posssible alternative. So I checked http://www.bobbarr2008.com/ for some info knowing that he is libertarian and that, therefore, I would likely favor some of his positions. I found that I do agree with Bob Barr on many issues and disagree on others. Of course, this is normal; it's unlikely that I would ever completely agree with any candidate on every issue. So I'm thinking that maybe I can vote for this guy. It wouldn't just be a protest vote "against" the major party candidates, but instead a vote for somebody I can believe in.

Then I looked a little closer at his vice presidential running mate, Mr Wayne Allyn Root. Where have I heard that name before? More accurately, where have I heard Mr. Root's voice before, introducing himself somewhere over the airwaves? I couldn't put my finger on it until Google and Wiki shed some light. Oh, yeah. Wayne Allyn Root is, among other (some even noble) things, a loud, self-promoting gambling and sports betting handicapper. For many years I've heard his commercials on sports talk radio touting his amazing sports prognostications. I don't think I can vote for a vice presidential candidate that calls himself the King of Vegas and shouts about over/unders and the morning line. What, Art Schlichter wasn't available? Who is in line to be chief of staff, disgraced NBA ref Tim Donaghy? Mr. Root, if I need some info on the best three-team parlay for the opening NFL weekend, you're my guy. A heartbeat away from the Oval Office? Not so much.

So, I'm back to square one. Vote for the candidate of change? Vote for John Mccain, he of the campaign that has an advisor that today said "John McCain does not speak for the McCain campaign"? Vote for Barr just because he is somebody different even though I can't back his VP? Not Vote? Of course, I can always do what I did in 2004-write in dear old dad.

An Endorsement, Perhaps Gross, But An Endorsement Nonetheless.

Like finally trying Chipotle, I have once again purchased a product that I should have purchased long ago. This product? None other than this generation's "underwear that's fun to wear": Under Armour Boxerjocks (I know, ridiculous name). This stuff isn't just for athletes. Now, I'm not decked out head to toe in their gear, but the underwear is great.

Stay with me here, I'll try to explain their greatness without being too graphic. As any guy knows steamy summer days can leave things awfully sticky/sloppy "down there". And when things get sticky/sloppy a certain amount of "rubbing/chafing" can occur. It's even more uncomfortable for fat guys who tend to, as David Letterman says, make their own gravy on a hot day. (If you are still reading, trust me, I thought about vetoing this post in favor of good taste, but ah, you know me.)

Anyway, you can kiss these maladies goodbye thanks to these boxers and their Performance Pouch Technology, strategic ventilation and anti-microbial technology. (Under Armour's copy writers must have a blast coming up with these goofy labels and advertising.) To borrow from their tagline "We Must Protect This House"-Now "down there" I am dry, airy and, most definitely, "protected".

The Dark Knight-No Spoilers

I have the good fortune of being on semi-vacation this week so this morning I donned my cape and pointy-eared cowl and headed for the movie theater. I'm kidding, of course, about wearing a costume, in fact there was a surprising dearth of Batman memoribilia (and sadly, deodorant) in the theater this morning. I love that Batman plays to such a wide demographic. There were teens, older couples and the requisite guys in ponytails and GWAR t-shirts. Fortunately, there were very few children present; this is no way a kid's movie.

It is, however, a dark, brooding violence-filled thriller that banishes West, Keaton, Kilmer and Clooney to some distant Home for Inferior Batmen. And this isn't neccesarily because Christian Bale is better as Batman (though he is), because I loved Michael Keaton's version. It's more about the movie having a tone that none of the others tried to reach. This movie deals more with how Bruce Wayne/Batman reconciles his vigilante duty and Bale is up to the task. The movie is a bit long and dragged down slightly by its bloated narrative, but for the most part it is a bleak and relentless attack on the senses. You get your gadgets, your fistfights, your explosions, your high drama, your soaring orchestral score and, of course, your Joker.

I scoffed when people said Heath Ledger would probably be nominated for an Oscar for his performance, writing it off as hype and sentimentality because of his passing. I may have to recant those scoffs. Ledger's Joker may not posthumously win an Oscar, but he goes down in my book as the second greatest (or should it be worst?) villian in cinema history behind only Hannibal Lechter. (Though I haven't seen No Country for Old Men.) This Joker is funny, intense, violent, intelligent and creepy without being at all over the top. Forget Jack Nicholson, this is the iconic Joker performance. The Joker and Batman have a five minute encounter 2/3 of the way through the movie that is worth the price of admission. Intense and, on a certain level, scary it made me wonder to what level Ledger's career could have ascended from here. Too bad we'll never know.

If you like Batman at all, strap on your utility belt and race your Batmobile to the theater. The Dark Knight is one of the best superhero movies ever thanks to a great hero, but mostly thanks to it's even better villian.

Why I Don't Drink Coffee.

In today's Washington Post: A tale of coffee snobbery (not that there's anything wrong with that), customer service (or lack thereof) and the power of blogging.

The drink request Sunday, said Simmermon, who was visiting from Brooklyn, was denied by a barista who told him that Murky doesn't do espresso over ice. Irked, Simmermon said he asked for a triple espresso and a cup of ice, which he said the barista provided, grudgingly.
Service. No smile.
Then -- and this is Simmermon's account -- the barista scolded him, saying that what he was doing to his espresso was "not okay" and that the store's policy was to preserve the integrity of the drink. The employee said that allowing customers to dilute espresso was not in keeping with said policy.
Coffee-rage moment in 3, 2, 1 . . .

Full Story Here

Can't Have It Both Ways.

So let me get this straight- first John McCain taunts Barack Obama for not going to Iraq and now criticizes his trip calling it nothing but media-covered campaign stops. Will somebody please find a candidate worthy of my vote?

I Think I'm In Love.

I made a new friend today, had lunch with her in fact. She is saucy, spicy and smells, oh, so good. I had walked past her many times before, but decided today was the day to introduce myself. My friend St4rbux sings her praises and has previously recommended I meet her. She is so hot I think I might even be able to talk Amanda into joining in the next time I see her. Her name is Chipotle Mexican Grill and I think I'm in love.

Six Months And Counting...

Thanks to everyone who has weighed in with baby advice. We really appreciate it. It was thoughtful, instructive, helpful and sometimes funny; I expected nothing less. Thank you. Here is a shot of why we're doing all the legwork.

No Trailer Trash Here.

I got a great surprise while at the movies today. The Star Wars: Clone Wars trailer played before Journey to the Center of the Earth. While fumbling with my 3-D glasses I noticed the twinkling Lucasfilm logo pop up on the screen. There really is something about seeing it on the giant screen. I have had my doubts about the cartoon (I loved the hand drawn Clone Wars animated series that briefly ran leading up to ROTS, but thought I would hate the new computer animated stuff.), however, it looks to be badass. I'm still not in love with the way the human characters look, but the creatures and especially the clone troopers look awesome. Unlike most Star Wars fans likely have, I had not yet seen the trailer online. Now I'm glad I hadn't because it gave me goosebumps like every Star Wars trailer or film has when watching it in the theater. Soaring John Williams music, the buzz and hiss of lightsabers,-ah, come on August 15th. Seeing the trailer almost made up for having to sit through Journey. I know there is a lot of summer left, but that has to be the most brainless movie of the year. If you haven't seen the Star Wars trailer, you can find two trailers here.

Also, Brent recently hipped me to the trailer for the new Bond film with the unfortunate title, Quantum of Solace. Loved Casino Royale; it was the perfect reboot to the series. I think the new one is out November 7th. See trailer here.

Calling All Parents.

We are looking at baby stuff and want to hear the voices of experience. Is there an item, device, piece of equipment or specific brand of item that was so indispensable that you couldn't or wouldn't want to raise baby without it?

This Time It Wasn't Me!

Today I had the rare treat of scoring a hat trick of bad drivers aimed squarely at my Honda. I say "treat" because on a normal day I witness way more than three shitty driving moves from the lovely citizens of Annapolis where everyone plays America's fastest growing driving game sensation, "I'll Run This Stop Sign Because Of Course He'll Stop." I'm firmly convinced that I have some superpower that allows me, and me alone, to see the invisible stops signs on Annapolis street corners. If bad driving were polygamy, Annapolitans would be Warren Jeffs and I am a 14-year-old girl being held against my will.

I know blogging about bad drivers is about as original as calling George Bush stupid, but I've had it up to here.

Driver no. 1 wouldn't let me merge onto Route 50. Instead of moving into the vacant center lane she obliviously matched my speed (there was line of cars on her bumper) while blabbering on her cell phone. When someone is trapped in the right lane unable to get over I don't mind getting to highway speed and zipping in front of them, in fact that is exactly what acceleration lanes are for. I shouldn't, however, have to gun it to 90 mph to do it. She could have slowed a bit ( or sped up a bit), unless she was receiving direct orders, via the cell phone, to not let me merge.

Driver no. 2 came frighteningly close to T-Boning me as I turned left through an intersection. Sir, if after almost plowing into me because you have blown a red light at 40 mph, you shouldn't stare me down.

Driver no. 3 was... aww forget it. Let me stop complaining; we all encounter poor drivers. Plus, I have to go take out the garbage because Amanda just opened the can and it smells like death.

Two Recommendations For The Price Of One.

There have been many artistic endeavors that sseek to explain, belittle, skewer and examine life in the suburbs. Recently, I've found two of the best-the tv show Weeds and a novel, The Abstinence Teacher by Tom Perrota. I had wanted to check out Weeds for awhile and finally watched Season One on DVD before we had our cable hooked up. It's a funny character study starring one of my long-time favorites, Mary Louise Parker. The writing is sharp, the plots are convoluted (Not Nip/Tuck convoluted, but convoluted nonetheless.) and the ensemble cast is strong. The writers even manage to make Kevin Nealon funny, something that has until now been an iffy proposition. Favorite line so far, through Season One and part of Season Two:"When does CPR become necrophilia?"

As for Tom Perrotta, I have found a new author to read. The Abstinence Teacher takes on religion, abstinence programs (duh), youth sports and the difficult task of raising kids. While another of my favorite authors, Chuck Pahlniuk, writes with fervor and zooms right past any shred of plausibility, Perrotta takes the opposite approach. He has a keen eye for the details and subtlety of life and relays all the complexities with a smooth, patient writing style. Can't wait to read his other work.

Straight to Bargain.

This one is mostly for my bookselling friends. I read a recent column in the Washington Post that reiterates what we already know-there are a lot of crappy books being published. The column, written by somebody in the publishing industry, doesn't break much new ground, but helps explain some of the reasons the shelves are filled with junk.