The Bean Report

In the little town of Freeport, Maine, you will find a bumbleclot** of retail stores and relatively low-strung shoppers (most people are on vacation). However, amidst the Fruit Republics, Gaps in the Patagonian Northfaces, and the browsers in the "Mangy Moose" lies a behemoth of a store, that quite frankly, is the bomb.

I am talking about L.L. Bean.

I hate shopping with the passion and fervor of an adolescent bull with a slip knot tied around its nuts, but for some reason, I get kind of excited to visit the L.L. Bean Store.

Maybe it's because they have a giant and entirely useless boot outside its main entrance, maybe it is the fully stocked trout pond in the middle of the store, or perhaps its the massively friendly and helpful staff who really ARE happy to be working. More than likely, it's because they have great stuff and a generous return policy.

L.L. Bean's builds customers for life, and are the epitome of high quality (In fact, if you bought a backpack in 1985 and the zipper malfunctions, they will replace the zipper or the entire bag for free. Some people take advantage of this for sure, but they suck and should be stepped on by someone wearing a boot comparable in size to the one outside the front door. eg. Paul Bunion or a Wild Thing).

L.L. Bean is active in the community. They hold concerts (with music mostly for old people), they bring in rock climbing walls to the store, offer fly fishing lessons, kayaking trips, gun safety classes, etc.

They're basically that really athletic, fun and charismatic person in high school who gets the smartest, hottest, moderately chested girl and they settle down together and have 3 amazingly beautiful children who are often candidly photographed in meadows wearing adorable outfits and not only that, but they are very financially comfortable and never talk about their money. and you know what, they deserve it.

It is truly a model retail store. Now, if only bars and pubs had such useful return policies..

**Doesn't actually work in this sentence since bumbleclot is Jamaican for fuck; damn, mothafucka........... (Urban Dictionary, 2005) Used in a sentence: 'damn dat boy ....... he played me , Bumbleclot!!'

What do hangovers and delayed/cancelled flights having in common? (Originally written 12/23)

Not much.

But I hate both of them.

While I hate delays because they are inconvenient, there is nothing you can do, so you might as well just sit back and people watch. Interestingly, the people you watch dealing with the same delay often freak out, yell at airline workers and generally get their panties in a bunch. It is quite entertaining really. But seriously, airports bring out the worst in people. So here's my recommendation: If you have a significant other and you're really trying to decide if he or she's the one, book a flight to Denver for tomorrow, and see if they keep their cool. If they do, propose. If not, dump 'em**.

And I don't like hangovers because I feel (and am) utterly useless for about 8-10 hours. (12/22/06 provides proof)

**(general warning: don't take relationship advice from spoole)

Whatever happened to the...

Pogo ball?

Somewhere in between pogo sticks and moon shoes, there was a brief period in time where pogo balls were the personal elevation-related toy of choice.

If my memory serves me correctly, the Pogo ball was a short lived fad. It had its heyday between approximately 1987 and 1989. I remember those glory days distinctly, as I was an enthusiastic participant in the Pogo ball revolution. In first grade recess, literally hundreds of kids (myself extremely included) would be bouncing on their pogo balls, doing nothing of note. There were no games that went a long with pogo balls. It wasn't like you were playing basketball while pogo balling, playing truth or dare while pogo balling or trying to navigate unruly terrain while pogo balling..

Aside from maybe completing a challenging hopscotch diagram, you just bounced for an extended period of time. And then the bell rung indicating the end of recess and you probably high fived a buddy, saying something like "sick p.g.b'ing session.. you got really high. (8 inches).. I can't wait for snack time" or "Great bouncing.. I like your style. If you continue to focus on your skills, I firmly believe you can go somewhere with it".

Only the really daring (future base jumpers, astronauts and people who substitute office chairs with fitness balls at work) tried to pogo ball stairs. This is because they would soon find out that the pogo ball platform had a greater diameter than the standard stair depth, and thusly, you would fall. Typically hard. (The girl pictured to blog bottom knows what I'm talking about).

Anyway, I write this not in hopes of bringing back the pogo ball (as we are all mightily aware that it was a dumb toy to begin with) but rather in wonderment and jealously as to how great it was to be a kid and to be able to occupy/engross yourself for hours on end with something as simple as bouncing on a Saturn-like apparatus. The possibilities were endless.

If I could do anything, I would do it all again. (Most especially the pogo ball era. Not so much the moon shoes era)

The Worlds Best Burrito: Anna's Taqueria of Boston vs. Gordo Burrito of San Francisco

I dig burritos. Especially super steak burritos (w/ SC, franks red hot sauce and extra guac, and a medium diet coke).

During my stint in Boston, I housed many a burrito at Anna's Taqueria, a local Mexican food hot spot. If I had to guess, I probably ate about 160 burritos over three years (159 of which were super burritos). This high level of consumption was facilitated by the fact that I lived 3 minutes away from Anna's.

When I was deciding to move to the west coast, there were three elements in my life that made the decision extra difficult: 1) leaving my family, 2) leaving my friends, and 3) leaving my burritos. (note: list not necessarily in order of importance).

I took the leap of faith and moved to the west coast, and low and behold, my first living situation was located within 5 minutes of a Gordo Burrito. I had conceited the fact that Gordo's would not be nearly as good as Anna's, but I was pleasantly surprised at the robust and generous portions offered at Gordo. If Anna's was an A+, then Gordo's was an A+-. But then Gordo's started growing on me. Thusly:

Anna vs. Gordo: The Duel

1) SPEED- Edge: Anna's. They are effectively the burrito nazis. a lot of mini-side steps left while making sure to keep silent. (my friend and I clocked ourselves one time from the moment we entered the door until we exited.. 2 minutes and 7 seconds).

2) ENJOYMENT IN SAYING NAME- Major edge: GORDO's

3) BURRITO SIZE- Slight Edge: Gordo's.

4) GENEROSITY WITH STEAK- Edge: Anna's. It is documented that Gordo's has a tendency to overload the rice and beans and skimp on the steak. A serious problem.

5) GENERAL RESTAURANT AMBIANCE & DECOR- Edge: Anna's.. Honestly, what do you expect from a restaurant named Gordo's.

6) THE BAG THEY COME IN: Push. (One uses a form fitting paper bag with no handles and the other uses a baggy plastic bag with handles. It's only a matter of time before technology allows us to create a form fitting paper bag with handles..)

7) PRICE- Edge: Anna's. ($5.05 vs. $5.98) San Francisco is more expensive than Boston.

Final Verdict in one man's opinion: ANNA's.
ps. I've heard rumor that there are better burrito places in the SF Bay Area than Gordo.. If so, PLEASE elaborate (with directions).

San Francisco Radio: Star 101 point shit

You know when you move to a new area, and it takes you a while to figure out what stations are good and what stations suck? Well, I have been in the Bay Area for 1.5 months, and I have concrete evidence that one station in particular is the deputy mayor of suckville.

(Also, I am aware that most people own CD's, Ipods, MP3 players, etc, but just bare with me, because I make up the minority of the population that owns none of those fine consumer goods and I listen to FM radio out of necessity.. cough..preference).

On to my point: When I first drove into the Bay Area, I was scanning to find any song that was recognizable. I found one, and immediately cemented that channel as my 6th position on my radio memory button board (what do you actually call those things? i googled it, but nothing came up.. From here on I am going to call it 'channel rememberer').

Anyway, this channel happened to be 101.3 and it was playing mostly Top 40, which was a welcome divergence after many hours in the Nevada Desert with the Unabridged Book on tape version of "The Odyssey."

In all honesty, I can deal with top 40 in very moderate doses, but this station is intolerable. They play the same 4-5 songs over and over again (eg: "Lips of an Angel" by Hinder, "Suddenly I See" by KT Tunstall, Streetcorner Symphony, Some Dixie Chicks song, a Natasha Bettingfield balad and Frey; "How to Save a Life".. In case you're wondering.. I googled those names online).

Another really annoying thing about 101.3 is this guy named Don Bleu, who does some stupid bloopers (bleupers) in the morning, where he typically calls an illegal immigrant and tells them they are going to be deported, and then at the end he say's something along the lines of: "Javier: IT'S ME! DON BLUE! You've been Bloopered. haha.(sidekick "haha") Perhaps you've heard of our radio show. haha. I'm a tremendous tool who deserves a hearty bludgeoning. haha."

With all that said, 101.crap is still occupying the #6 position on my channel rememberer because: 1) I haven't come across too many good substitute channel options 2) quite frankly, I don't always enjoy change, 3) laziness, and 4) I kinda like the dixie chick song.

So, I am asking for station recommendations from people in the Bay Area. So far, I have two channels that are definite locks: #1: 105.3 and #5 NPR. Outside of those two, I am in search of suitors for #2, 3, 4 and #6.

ps. I can't believe John Tesh is still alive! and on top of that, has a successful SF Bay Area radio show! I am all about intelligence for my life (his "bit"), but the next time he reminds me to take a bath to avoid getting sick or stressed, I am going to attack him with my car antennae (which sadly is only a foot long).

Santa's little helper. I wish I were joking.

Update:

yes, I am still hanging x-mas lights. No, this is not a long term career move. yes, I make a decent wage and tips. No, I don't have to dress up as one of Santa's Little Helpers. You get the point.

To be honest, I have been provided with more entertainment by Dylan, (the punk rocker from Detroit with red hair, knee high boot and a top hate) than I ever thought possible.

A few things of note:

As previously mentioned, Dylan is involved with a vitamin selling pyramid scheme, which requires him to make phone calls on a semi-consistent basis. However, he also has a late $1000 phone bill from Verizon, and Verizon's first course of action was to cut off Dylan's ability to make outgoing phone calls. He can still receive incoming phone calls, but since his pyramid business is in essence a sales positions he should probably not rely on potential clients calling him. Dylan categorized Verizon's action as ruthless, adding "not being able to make phone calls has been detrimental to my business man".

Other things about Dylan. He's all about being at one with the trees when he is hanging lights, and when puts up x-mas lights and then the tree looks like crap, he shrugs it off saying "I just wasn't flowing with the tree today, you know?" I wish I didn't know, but feng shui with trees isn't my cup of tea.

He also lives in the ghetto of Oakland and typically has crack heads come up to him in the morning when he leaves his house. Just a few days ago the crack head offered to make him 1 million dollars if he signed him as his music agent. needless to say, with the booming vitamin business and a potential record signing, things are falling into place as the x-mas light hanging season winds down.