The One Hundred

• Is it wrong that I'm finally ready to start the day at 11AM? That's bad, right? #fb #
• Ok, Flickr users — I'm one of you now. Send me your flickr handle so I can see your pics/friend you! #
• Using the new MrTweet to discover great new people and recommend awesome friends! http://mrtweet.com?v=21 #
• Just had some Frankenberry cereal. For lunch. That's right. I'm an adult. I can do what I want. #toysruskid #
• DH = the goods. Follow puny human! RT @DRUNKHULK: QUAKE SHIFT EARTH! MAKE DAY SHORTER! THEN LENO MONOLOGUE APPEAR! MAKE DAY FEEL LONG AGAIN! #
• It's Jacobson Night (the boy's school) at Dilly's Deli tonight. I see a Rueben in my immediate future — and it looks goooooooood. #fatty #
• RT @comedybot: I know a man who gave up smoking, drinking, and sex. He was healthy right up to the day he killed himself. -Johnny Carson ☺ #
• Just ordered the close up filters that I've been after for MONTHS. So happy right now. Can't wait till they arrive. #photography #nerd #
• Just watched Pee-Wee's Big Adventure with my oldest Ben — he LOVED it — I loved watching it/laughing with him. Thanks @peeweeherman !! #
• Unskippable song on my Ipod: Suddenly Last Summer by The Motels. Sorry — I love that song. Just, y'know, FYI. #
• Hey @Newsarama! I want to drive fast & shoot stuff! #BLURBETA #
• And just like that — I'm under a mountain of work. Yay? #

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I started out this past weekend by going to the Chandler Classic Car show (pics available on my flickr here). I was with my photography club-mates, Tony and Mike and after we’d had our fill of classic cars we decided to head over to Gilbert and eat at Joe’s Real BBQ — let me cut to the chase here: AWESOME. So good! The little area where the restaurant was pretty neat too. Very small town America feel. Loved it.

Later that night, the family elected to go out to eat at Famous Dave’s BBQ — possibly because I had unknowingly eaten at a restaurant that everyone else had been wanting to go to. I’m not sure if this speaks more to my apparently non-existent listening skills or if I’m just ignorant altogether — but I guess either way, it doesn’t really paint me in a good light so we’ll just gloss over this by showing you another picture (this one is Famous Dave’s).

As the family made that decision, I feigned horror “Oh no! More BBQ! What ever am I going to do?!?” Famous last words folks. But more on that later.

While we were waiting for our food a question had come up and now that I think of it, I’m not sure exactly *how* it had come up but here it was and we couldn’t remember the answer.

“You know how in addition you get a sum, and in subtraction you get…”

“A difference”

“Right. What’s the word for multiplication?”

And here gentle readers is where we were stuck. Of the three adults at the table, we couldn’t remember what it was (Carla’s Mom offered “quotient” for division and while it was impressive, it wasn’t helpful. At all.).

I wonder how this happens. How can something that is so commonplace at one time in your life seemingly be gone the next? I realize that we can’t remember everything we’ve ever learned. I guess some things will stick — the things you care about be they song lyrics or what she was wearing when you first met her — others, not so much. Like Algebra. But then, I’ve always had a problem – a beef, if you will – with Algebra.

I’ve never hidden my disdain for Algebra. I’ve never understood why we were forced into it in the first place. I understand that there are people out there who possibly/probably use it every day. Hell, I might even use it and not even realize it (again, not listening or just ignorant? Jury = still out.) but if I had to pin down when this “beef” started — it all comes down to one problem. I don’t remember the exact wording but it went something like:

“Bill wants to know how tall the telephone pole is. The shadow of the telephone pole is [unit of measurement goes here]. Using that, how tall is the telephone pole?”

Or some crap like that. Friggin’ Bill. Sorry if I sound bitter but, have you ever looked at a telephone pole and wondered how tall it was — so much so that you used the shadow to actually figure it out? If so, congrats. Me? I look at it and think “Wow, that’s pretty high.” AND THAT’S IT.

Oh, wait — this too: “It would suck to have that fall on you.” but that speaks more to my paranoid nature/fear of big things falling on me so, that’s a whole other Oprah.

I’ve always maintained that for the majority, all we will ever need is addition and subtraction (to a lesser degree multiplication and division) because that’s what you’ll need to balance your checkbook. Have any of you used your higher math functions in daily life? I’d be interested to hear it. I would also welcome math nerds/geeks/whatever they want to be called (how about people, fatty? Sorry. Dorks. Hee!) to tell me if I am using Algebra every day so I can be properly thankful for it. Otherwise, I’m gonna keep looking at the telephone poles and keep on not wondering how tall they are – shadows be damned.

…

Um, wasn’t I in a BBQ joint just a little while ago?

We couldn’t figure out what the word was until we got home and looked it up on the ‘net. Product, in case you are wondering and/or like us and had the word escape you.

Also, that whole “you can never have too much of a good thing” thing? Lies. All of them. BBQ twice in one day — most likely not a good idea. I can attest to that. From 3AM until 6AM Sunday morning I had a lot of time to think about that very thing.

“If John eats 2 pounds of BBQ in the span of 5 hours, how many hours will he spend awake and in agony later that night?”

Hey, is that algebra?

Photography, Whatever

• PRO TIP: When going out to take pictures for your 365 project (or anything) make sure you have your SD card actually *in* the camera #doh #
• What 365 project, you ask? Why, this one of course: http://the-onehundred.com/365/John/ #shamelessplug #
• Busy. Not sure how that happened but there it is. #
• Go Mike Go! RT @MikeDoughtyYeah: New video for I KEEP ON RISING UP will debut at Yahoo! Music on March 3rd! (please retweet, good friends?) #
• Got the wife a gift at Victoria's Secret. Gave them my email addy. Everyday since, underwear clad hotties in my inbox. Gift 4 me 2 I guess.? #

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I have this notebook. I write things in it. Here’s one of those things.

It’s a coffee bean that I’m waiting at this time. It’s the nearest coffee place to my former place of employment. I’m waiting on a different friend this time. It’s always amazing to me how many people start/spend their day here. Yes, I see the irony of my making that statement when I am doing that very thing — but still, it’s a lot of people. Mostly a laptop crowd. I wonder if people will ever stop writing things down in favor of typing them in.

The person at the table in front of me has their power cord going across a walkway. Stranger still, the outlet is at a table where someone else is sitting and they seem to be OK with it. Something strange is afoot at the coffee bean. Must be something in the java.

If I ever get another job – an actual job-type-job – I hope it’s not at a coffee place. It seems that there’s a never ending stream of people that come into these places (again: Irony. I get it.). I guess it would make the shifts go faster but I think doing something like that for so long leads to mistakes. But, then again, free coffee. I think there was a time that I preferred the coffee bean to starbucks but I think this has changed. I go to starbucks so much that when I come in here, I’m lost. “Large? What’s that? Is that like a Venti?” The coffee doesn’t taste as good to me either but what can you do? Any port in a storm.

Coming here – driving around an area that I used to drive Monday through Friday every week – is so strange. Familiar and different at the same time. I figure little things changed here and there but in the end it is all essentially the same. I wonder if the same applies to me.

I just realized that I’ve been listening to the same song for the last 13 minutes — and there’s still 29 minutes left to it. Damn. Skip. Beck. Thank you. Moving on…

I think a regular just came in. Can’t really tell because of the headphones but the facial expressions lead me to believe so. I’ve always wanted to be a regular somewhere. I was once. It was a pizza place in Westwood. Lamonica’s N.Y. Pizza. Fantastic then, still awesome now. When I was working at the Wherehouse I had 30 minute breaks for lunch. This limited where I could go to eat. Right around the corner was Lamonica’s and it became my spot. One slice of pepperoni, one slice of cheese warmed up some but not too hot otherwise I would spend most of my lunch waiting for it to cool down. TANGENT:: You ever notice how a pizza slice has to spend very little time in the over before it is about the same temperature as molten lava? Why is that? ::END TANGENT I came in and ordered this so much that when they saw me walk in, even if I wasn’t at the head of the line, my order would get started. Life was good. It culminated in my getting a free pizza when I got hit by a car and broke my leg. They noticed that I wasn’t coming by and asked my roommate about me. When they found out — one free pizza whenever I wanted it. Isn’t that awesome? Maybe it’s time to become a regular again somewhere. But where?

I see someone who looks A LOT like someone I used to know. I’m too afraid to go and talk to him. It was a lifetime ago and I’m not sure if it’s actually him. And now he’s gone and I will probably always wonder.

I really should sit down and listen to all the stuff on my ipod. When I have it on shuffle, songs will come up that I either forgot I had on there or I just don’t know altogether.

…

I guess there are worse problems one could have.

Pulling from the Notebook

I have this notebook. I write things in it. Here’s one of those things.

I’m sitting outside a Starbucks on Sepulveda. I’ve just finished my drink and pastry (Today scone wins — sorry cheese danish, maybe next time.). The birds are fairly brave here. Definitely used to people. They check me out a couple of times and decide that there’s a good chance I won’t leave anything for them to eat (they’re right) and leave.

I spot and iridescent green and purple hummingbird. I’ve never seen one like that.

Across the street sits the Hacienda Hotel. It still appears to be active but it also seems like it’s from another time. Three other times, really. From right to left you can see where they made expansions and it looks like the next designer didn’t care or try to follow who came before. What I assume to be the oldest part looks like it was originally a motel — with rooms practically on the street. The second phase has sort of an early 70’s feel. The third and final portion appears straight out of the mid-80’s with it’s tubular bars and curved windows. This building is the most jarring and as it stands a little away from the others, I can’t confirm that it actually is part of the hotel — but for now, I’d like to think that it is. As odd as the whole scene is, it works.

In front of the outside seating area where I write, there is the normal cluster of newspaper vending machines – most of them of the free rag variety. LA Xpress is there. I notice that it’s free now. Back in the day, it used to cost money. Go ahead and think what you will but I never bought one – I just know this because there was a stand in front of my first apartment in L.A. (classy!) and all over Westwood where I worked and hung out. I consider picking one up because I am, like I was then, curious. What is in there? Naked pictures? Big deal. I assume there must be more. Surely, there must be more. As I am thinking about this, a man comes up, nonchalantly opens the dispenser, grabs his copy (a few down from the top because the top one is always dirty) and goes on his merry way. I’m kind of surprised that he does this in full view of all who are sitting here. I get a feeling that I can’t pin down. Do I feel sorry for him? Am I jealous of his comfort level in going after what he wants? I chalk it up to feeling a little nauseous due to the Russian family that just parked themselves behind me and are smoking. Yes, they have kids.

Yes, I am leaving.

Pulling from the Notebook