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September 30, 2002

Sunday morning car chase

So Sunday morning Patti and I stopped at a Dunkin Donuts on the way to the Charles River. We often park my car in the building I work at and walk around the river. It’s pretty and usually a lot of activity. Anyway, while I was sitting in the car with Emily, Patti went in to get some coffee. The store is on 3rd Street right off of a main road called McGrath Hwy. As soon as I pulled in, an MBTA bus stopped right behind me in the middle of the street. I looked at McGrath, the main road, and the bus lightly hit an old Jeep Cherokee. The guy in the jeep was pretty ticked off and while out of his truck, looking at the damage (I couldn’t tell if there was any from where I was), him and the bus driver started yelling at each other. The bus driver walked back to the bus to call the police on his radio and I guess the dude in the SUV thought he was turning his back on him and got REALLY pissed. This is when things got interesting.

The guy in the SUV then got in his car, turned off of McGrath onto 3rd, gunned the engine, went past the bus in the opposing traffic lane going very fast, and went anther 100 yards before he jammed on his breaks and did a 180 in the middle of an intersection. I am not joking. It was crazy. He then gunned it back to the bus and stopped right in front of it (and a few feet away from me). He got out of the car to yell at the bus driver some more. I guess a cop was in the intersection when he did his Starsky and Hutch move and pulled up behind him with his lights going. The guy got back in his SUV and took off!! No joke. The cop immediately went after him.

So Patti and took off a minute later and drove around some of the streets to see if we could follow the chase. Nothing. Then, about 20 minutes later, Patti was walking on the Esplanade and saw that 6 cop cars caught up with the guy and pulled him over. We later learned that they arrested him. Not sure what for though.

Just another Autumn Sunday.

September 26, 2002

Spooky coincidence

I completely forgot about this.

I was on a flight back from NY the day after the one year anniversary of 9/11, also know as Sept 12, 2002, when I read <a href="http://www.dobrindts.com/pics/lotteryarticle.jpg">this article</a> in USA Today. I also read it in the NY Times. Strange.

<a href="http://www.dobrindts.com/pics/lotteryarticle.jpg">click here for article</a>

September 25, 2002

Jobs if money didn't matter

I have always been fascinated by the type of jobs out there. According to the latest census, there are about 14 trillion occupations and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a much different job than the taco stand cashier position I currently have. But it wasn’t until the other day when my friend <a href=" http://www.2aldgate.net">Paul</a> actually asked me what I would do if I was infinitely wealthy that I put some thought into what I would actually do if I was infinitely wealthy. Here goes.

<b>1. Toll Booth Collector. </b>

Get to see a different face every 8 seconds. Nothing against toll booth collectors, but it would seem like a pretty mindless thing to do. More time for me to scheme.

<b>2. Blockbuster Clerk. </b>

I love movies. Ala Jack Black in <a href="http://us.imdb.com/Title?0146882">High Fidelity</a>, I would offer my very opinionated and extensive movie reviews on others, even if they don’t want it. I see exchanges like these taking place.

Scenario # 1

<u>Customer: </u>Do you have Forces of Nature on DVD?

<u>Me</u>: Get out of the store!!

Scenario # 2

<u>Customer</u>: <i>(checking out, hands me his blockbuster card and Glitter)</i>

<u>Me</u>: <i>(yelling) </i>I NEED A PRICE CHECK ON GLITTER!! GLITTER!! WITH MARIAH CAREY!! <i>(whispering) </i>get out of here before I kill you.

Scenario # 3

<u>Customer</u>: Do you have Soylent Green on VHS?

<u>Me</u>: <i>(hugging customer) </i>Thank you.

Pete Peeve # 1: Cab Drivers

I absolutely hate it when I go to open up a cab door and it’s locked. This is usually right after I get to load my own bag into the trunk, after banging on the trunk to get the driver, who is sitting in his seat, to unlatch the stupid thing. There is not a big tip coming.

September 24, 2002

My old clothes

When we were expecting Emily, I went through a period that Patti called ‘nesting’. I basically wanted to get rid of a ton of stuff we never use. To some, doing this might be a chore, but I find it a little relaxing. Getting rid of stuff in storage or hidden in drawers is a way of moving on in life. Or something. Anyway, last weekend I decided to go through this exercise again and focused on my closet and dresser. After deciding to get rid of about 100 articles of clothing, I realized old clothes fall into one of a number of categories of old stuff.

1) <b>Dead</b>. These are articles of clothing that are outdated, worn, torn and otherwise un-wearable, even for the yard work department. These articles of clothing get thrown into my rag pile or just thrown out. Not even suitable for a homeless shelter. Representative articles include old underwear and t-shirts that my spouse wanted to throw out years ago.

2) <b>Richard Simmons</b>. This includes clothes that are still good but don’t fit anymore. These are hard to get rid of because it forces you to admit that you will never return to your old size. I have been holding on to khakis, dress pants and dress shirts in hopes of returning to my glory days of lean and trim. Not happening. I might get back to my old weight and size, but by then, these clothes will be out of style. I have suits that are in the category. Plus belts.

3) <b>The bench</b>. This refers to clothes that are fine, fit well, not worn out, but for some reason or another, never find themselves being worn. I have a few select members of my wardrobe that I like and seem to wear a lot and other articles waiting in the wings for a chance to shine. I can’t get rid of the bench members because I might need them someday. And there is nothing technically wrong with them. They stay.

4) <b>Never gunna happen</b>. These articles of clothes were given to me as gifts and I held onto for sentimental reasons. A perfect example is a robe. I will never wear a robe but got one as a gift once. I can’t throw them out because I never know when I will have to bring it out. I look at these things every time I go through this exercise and wonder why the h**l I don’t just get rid of these things. Also includes light jackets, sweaters and ties. And getting back to the robe. I don’t run through the house au natural. I just prefer using a towel or wearing shorts and a t-shirt when walking from the shower.

5) <b>Safety Dance</b>. This category is simple. Clothes that are out of style. They might be in fine shape but have moved passed their prime. I tend to dress a little conservatively so I don’t have many pieces of clothes in this category, but ties, dress shirts and shorts seem to show up a lot. Plus shoes. This might also apply to things that might be ok but are just not ‘you’ anymore. I have a pair of cool black dress shoes with buckles, but my days of wearing black and going out to clubs has long been over. I always have a tear in my eye when I throw out something like this. Goodbye ‘party Dave, ‘parent’ Dave needs the space in the bottom drawer.

6) <b>Keepers</b>. Anything that you wear a lot or has overwhelming sentimental value. For some reason I have a ton of socks. And I love long sleeve t-shirts, have a bunch of them but only rotate a few that I wear. But I just can’t get rid of them. This category is either very easy (we all have our money outfit for something important) or very hard (something that is borderline. For me, it is turtle necks to wear under sweaters. I also have a coverall for working on the car that I can’t part with even though I always wear a pair of jeans and t-shirt). The key to going through old clothes is to make the criteria for this category very strict, and stick to it. We have all heard of the filter that if you haven’t worn it in a year, then throw it out. I don’t like this. I might have worn something last week but it should go, and because I didn’t wear my ski jacket last year doesn’t mean I should chuck it.

Thought I would share.

September 23, 2002

NY Jets after week three

Following another Jets pathetic loss, Vinny Testaverde had this to say in Monday's Newsday

"We're going to have to stick together, because everybody outside the locker room is probably going to take shots at us and tell us how bad we are."

Yep. You are right Vinny. And something tells me some people INSIDE the locker room will be telling you as well.

September 19, 2002

Red Sox Analogy

Since I am not a fan of the Boston Red Sox, I can genuinely offer an objective view on how each season turns out. To me, the analogy plays out like this.

Imagine an actor, musician, sports figure or other celebrity who, by some turn of events, becomes extremely popular. Something happened to this person’s career and he is at the height of his stardom. It’s kind of like a fluke though, not a long standing rise to stardom. But after a while, he doesn’t just fade from the picture, he dropped off the end of the earth. For those who closely followed this person, they could see it coming and to them, it wasn’t a dramatic shift, but a gradual slide. But to the other 99% of the people, this celebrity just disappeared. One day he was there, the other he was gone. Then, years later, you read about this person on page 19 of some second rate town newspaper. This celebrity, who at one time had such a promising career, was found homeless, broke, without any friends, lying in the gutter mumbling to himself. You sort of feel bad but don’t really care that much. To his fans, they wonder what the heck happened. Sad, but life goes on.

That is what the Red Sox do EVERY SINGLE SEASON. They start out in April and May as the best team in the history of the world. They are compared to the Yankees because in April and May they might be over the Yankees in the standings. The local fans shout out of their car windows that the THIS IS THE YEAR. They offer so much hope and promise to their fans that we see tears in the eyes of those who speak of them. But then sometime around September 1 you realize the Sox have taken such a turn for the worse that you’d expect them to be found in a cheap motel in the south with an underage male prostitute. Oh wait, that was the celebrity story, but you get the idea. All of a sudden, other teams in the league, say, for example, Oakland and Anaheim, are stealing the spotlight. The Sox, somehow, can’t even see first place or a wild card slot they are so far out of it. Good bye. You are not sure what happened, but all of a sudden they don’t make espn.com’s MLB section headlines. The Sox end the season with more frustration and disappointment than hope they served up on a plate in April and May. The Sox had new owners, new management, some new players, spruced up ball park, but in the end, they left the season as a small article on page 19.

September 17, 2002

My hotel alarm clock

I love when I enter a hotel room and it has the same alarm clock I have at home.

September 12, 2002

Tales from NY

So here I am, 1 in the morning, sitting in a small, hot conference room waiting for some color copies of a very special report to print. This report, which will save the world and bring happiness to my grandkid’s grandkids, must be printed and bound tonight. The question you might be asking yourself is “Does Dave know how to do that??” and “Why is he doing that??” Both are very good questions. Excellent, in fact, considering I am here waiting to perform those tasks. The reason is quite simple though. In my job, which waffles between skilled process consultant facilitating change to copy boy, you do what it takes to get the job done. Unfortunately we ran behind and the very reasonable time we were expecting to do this, which was around 9PM, didn’t happen. So here I am, sitting, alone, with peanut M&Ms (which I wish was a burger) and a bottle of water (which I wish was beer), writing this to all of you fine folks, because for now, there is nothing else to do.

Had to step away for a minute. I was sitting here and realized it was quiet. The printer had stopped. Oh no!! It was out of paper. OUT OF G**d**N PAPER. FOR TEN FREAKIN’ MINUTES. So I filled it because that is what you do when it is 1AM and the printer runs out of paper. And now I am back on track.

I just realized someone else is here. Who works these kind of hours? He is sitting at his desk dab smack in front of the computer. Weird. I am not sure if I should talk to him. Sort of like approaching a big dog that you don’t know. You want to pet it but who knows if he’ll bite you. I think I’ll pretend I don’t know he is here.

Thought I’d share.