Last Thursday was Thanksgiving Day in America, so I donned my turkey hat, and told the kids that instead of the traditional turkey dinner this year, that we would be starting a new tradition. Then I showed them the can of Unicorn meat I brought:
“Unicorns as we all know, frolic all over the world pooping rainbows and marshmallows wherever they go. What you don’t know is that when unicorns reach the end of their lifespan, they are drawn to County Meath Ireland. The Sisters of Radiant Farms have dedicated their lives to nursing these elegant creatures through their final days. Taking a cue from the Kobe beef industry, they massage each unicorn’s coat with Guinness daily and fatten them on a diet comprised entirely of candy corn.”
The video tells the rest of the story. Andy was so cute in his polite yet steadfast refusal:
The rest of the weekend was filled with movies and dim sum and relaxing with friends. The dogs said it best the day after Thanksgiving:
‘Twas the day after turkey, Black Friday for some. But for Garbo & Ruby, Exhaustion had come.
The last time I saw Eli he was 16 months old and had just met Elvis. Now he’s 2 and talking up a storm, and cuter than ever. Thanks for the dim sum An & V! It was great seeing you all!!More pics here…
I dropped Mike off at LAX for his 6:30 flight on the busiest travel day of the year and the airport was surprisingly uncrowded. He said security was uneventful. The President must have read my email! At least his wife wrote me back! I snapped all of these photos while driving. Another pretty L.A. day!More pics here…
I am one of your biggest supporters. I believe what you have accomplished in two years has restored our country’s reputation around the world and helped millions of hard working Americans. I have sometimes wished that you could move faster on many things (Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, Guantanamo Bay & Afghanistan to name a few), but I trust your judgment and know that you are working as hard as you can.
That said, I must take issue with your recent stance on the tightened security policies of the Transportation Security Administration (TSA). You say you “get it“, but I’m not sure that you do. I know that the Republican Party and Fox News are up in arms about the new measures; and though I rarely agree with Fox News, I must yield to them on this matter. However, I don’t necessarily agree with them for the same reasons. I’m not really concerned with someone “touching my junk” when I go through a pat down; nor am I personally worried about:
What I am worried about Mr. President is the bureaucratization of terror. Starting with the failed policies of your predecessor, the TSA has become a laughing stock. They are inept at best, criminal at worst. Though America isn’t Israel, we could learn a lot from the Israelis. It’s called behavioral profiling not racial profiling. You can’t profile breast implants and shoes. It’s about being smarter, not reacting every time someone tries to ignite their underwear.
As someone who used to fly 3-4 times a week for 13 years all around the world, I can honestly say I’m glad I’m done. I will opt out of these ridiculous policies, because they are nothing more than theater of the absurd. We’re not safer. The terrorists are laughing at us. Every time I hear the words “I’ll put up with anything if it makes us safer…” I cringe. People who spew such nonsense don’t fly more than once or twice a year, and are woefully misinformed. If I were you Mr. President, I would immediately fire Janet Incompetano and John Pistole. Replace them with people who possess the same critical thinking skills that you do, and can respond to this mounting public outcry.
If you figure this out Mr. President, people will begin flying again. I was going to fly somewhere for Thanksgiving this week. I have canceled my trip. If I’m meant to die in a terrorist attack, so be it. I’ve had a good life. No amount of groping or probing will keep me safer. The terrorists are smarter than that. I do somewhat wish I was flying this week though, as I would love to have someone videotape me while I’m being patted down. Did you ever see the movie, When Harry Met Sally? Think of this scene, and then think of me being patted down by the TSA. Trust me Mr. President. I have a flare for the dramatic, and that would be one hell of a viral video.
They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.
Ben Franklin’s Contributions to the Conference on February 17 (III) Fri, Feb 17, 1775
Speaking of government bureaucracy, I just posted the following on Yelp:
Going to West Hollywood City Hall at 8 AM on a Monday morning is the worst way to start your week. I needed to pull a permit to replace some windows in my condo. After waiting for the receptionist to finish a personal phone call, I was directed to the second floor. They have the slowest elevator I’ve ever seen, and no stairs for the public. Up to the second floor I went. There was one person at a desk texting on his cell phone, paying no attention, and another at a counter helping a contractor; who had blueprints laid out from hell to breakfast. After 5 minutes of no one acknowledging my presence, I finally interrupted the texter who then told me I needed to go to Planning. I went to Planning and waited until the most jaded, bitter, bureaucratic queen I’ve ever met showed up. He looked at my paperwork and let out a heavy sigh. He handed me a form to fill out, and started pecking on his keyboard, seemingly exasperated. He kept asking me questions about my windows and I kept referring him to the drawings and plans that I had meticulously prepared. After 15 minutes of dramatic paper shuffling, he sent me down to the cashier to pay $97.11 for “zoning clearance”.
I took the elevator back downstairs and gave the cashier my debit card and asked if I could also pay for my parking permits. She told me that Parking Permits were handled in another department. I walked to that department and met Junior Jaded Bitter Bureaucrat #2. He told me they only accept Parking Permit requests via mail. I informed him that it was the 21st Century and that I check my mail two or three times a year at best. I asked if I could just pay for the permit there, and was told they only accept checks by mail. I informed him I didn’t have a checkbook, because again, it was the 21st Century. I haven’t written a check in 10 years, and wasn’t about to go to my bank and request a cashier’s check as he suggested. The 80′s called. They want their payment methods back! He finally acquiesced and let me pay the $44 for the parking permits by debit card. A small victory, but it felt good.
I then had to take the elevator back upstairs to show my receipt to Planning, who directed me to Permits, where I had to basically start over. As it turns out, Jaded Bitter Bureaucrat #1 was delightful compared to Jaded Bitter Bureaucrat #3, who worked in Permits and clearly hated life. He looked at me, waiting for me to tell him what I needed without even asking if he could help me. The staring contest went on for several seconds until he finally broke down and asked what I was there for. I told him I needed a window permit. He asked if I had filled out an application, and I said I thought I had. He said it wasn’t in the paperwork, and directed me to a wall of forms where I had to search for the right one. He asked for a letter from my Homeowner’s Association, which I told him I had given to the Permits Department. He rolled his eyes and walked away. 5 minutes later, he came back with my Homeowner’s Association letter. He then asked how many windows I was replacing and I told him three, as documented right in front of him. He asked how many bedrooms I had, and I pointed to the clearly drawn layout right in front of his face. He found out that one of the windows needed to be lowered, thanks to a ridiculously archaic city code, so he had to get his supervisor and lumbered away. 5 minutes went by and the supervisor sauntered up. We’ll call him Ultimate Bitter Jaded Bureaucrat #4, who ended up being the most jaded and bitter of them all. He was clearly the highest paid too, as evidenced by his Dolce & Gabbana sweater and Botoxed face that had not smiled since the first Bush administration. (The other two were wearing Izod and Ralph Lauren accordingly. It was a chilly day.) He proceeded to look at my drawings and draw identical lines on them to accentuate my lines. He took his time, and shuffled a lot of paper even more dramatically then JBB #1 (He must have had a Master’s in paper shuffling). He basically did nothing but huff and puff for 10 minutes and ask me questions that I had already been asked 3 times; the answers to which were clearly documented. He then sent me back downstairs in the elevator from hell (to hell?) to pay $341.17 for my permit.
I then took the elevator back up to purgatory, where I watched JBB #3 slowly stamp all of my paperwork, and hand it to me without as much as a whisper. I asked if that was all I needed and he nodded affirmatively. I know that no bureaucracy is fun to deal with, but West Hollywood is supposed to be a friendly, progressive city. The staff at City Hall rivaled the TSA in terms of bitterness and rudeness. I’m surprised they didn’t pat me down! I payed them $482.28 for nothing but condescension and laziness. For those of you who think living in a city like this would be all pink roses and rainbow flags, this is a cautionary tale. I won’t even go into how one of the mayors here thinks that a ban on smoking is ridiculous, because West Hollywood is all about sex and rock & roll. Ugh. In the few short years that West Hollywood has been a city, the bureaucrats have made it no different than any other greedy, over regulated place to live. If property values weren’t still so low, you can bet I would be looking for another place to live. Until then, I’m going to manage with what I have. I have no desire to deal with the city again. The whole experience left me jaded…and bitter.
If you’ve read this far, you’re probably looking for some photos from the week. Here they are:
I’ve always joked with my family & friends that when I die, I want my tombstone to read: “Why Did I Bother”? Let’s face it, I’m a narcissistic blogger. Aren’t we all to some extent? As someone who pours their heart and soul into social media, I appreciate the ego boost that comes from comments and “Likes”. I enjoy sharing my photos, stories and views with the world, and that’s why I’m here. I’m admittedly insecure, and thrive on the constant validation that comes from social networking. I think I live a fairly eventful life, but I do know that the majority of people could probably care less when I run into OctoMom and her 14 kids out for a milkshake (as I did last week), or post a video of Chazz (America’s Cutest Dog) getting dive bombed by a bird. For those of you who do indulge me, I remain your humble servant. As an avowed atheist, I don’t really care what happens to me after I die. I will donate my body to science (if they want it) and that will be that. Recently though, I heard about this:
What better way to ensure all my sunset photos live on, even after I’m sunset? Does Xanga have a death policy for Premium members? Facebook allows accounts to be “memorialized” when people die. I wonder what will happen to my tens of thousands of photos on Picasa and other sites when I die? Speaking of death, I snapped this photo of a bumper sticker on a hearse last week, while driving Laura & Katie on a tour of Hollywood:
It Could Be Worse…You’re Not in a Hearse!
I guess if you do decide to be buried when you die, it would be good to have a sense of humor. My friend Doug took this photo at the Lake Oswego Pioneer Cemetery (not far from the Linus Pauling plot) outside of Portland, OR:
Care to trade places?
Speaking of sunsets…there were some pretty ones this past week. Also, aside from the previously mentioned OctoMom experience (which was surreal) and hosting Laura & Katie; I watched Daniel take 5th place in the CalTech Fall 2010 Rubik’s Cube Tournament, and secure his Top 100 World Ranking for one handed Rubik’s Cube Solving! Congratulations Daniel! Here are some photos from the week:
They even had people solving Rubik’s Cubes with their feet! More here…
A rose is but a rose…with a fisheye lens and focal b&w
I was talking with JC outside the hardware store, when a huge bus pulls up… The paparazzi swarmed. Elmo got out first, then OctoMom to pose for pictures…then all 14 of her kids. It was a sad spectacle to behold, watching her exploit her kids. I guess she has to make money though. A few of the paparazzi were yelling HORRIBLE things to her…even when the kids came out of the bus. I felt so bad for the older kids, who I’m sure were aware of what was being yelled. The young ones just seemed shell shocked. What a surreal experience.More here…
Laura and Katie showed up at The Hotel Careyfornia for a quick visit and a tour of Hollywood. More here…
To explain how the week ended with me in the back of a police car, we have to back up to the beginning. It was another busy week at The Hotel Careyfornia. Mike was in town on yet another stop on his trip around the world. Darlene came home from her summer in Michigan with fresh pasties. I took Arielle to the pumpkin patch, which has become somewhat of a tradition. The night before Halloween was spent at Griffith Park Observatory with Sam & Charlotte. It was an unusually clear day in Los Angeles and as the sun set into the Pacific, Halloween was upon us. As I wondered how I could top my outfit 2 years ago, when Sarah Palin was running for vice president and I was a moose in a bulletproof vest; and last year, when I was Balloon Boy’s dad, taking pictures with all the cute Balloon Boys; it struck me. This year I would take the conservative route, and dress as a nice, Midwestern, pedophile priest! It was a lot of fun. Surprisingly, no one was offended by my costume. Even the (real) cops asked to take my picture. The best costume of the night for me was the BP Oil Spill. There were lots of Chilean miners and Snookies and of course standard Lady GaGa fare. Let the fun begin:
I had never been in the back of a police car before…it was REALLY uncomfortable!
Bless me father for I have sinned!
No trick or treating, but there was plenty of eye candy…tricks and treats!
I got to hang out with a lot of other priests, nuns and popes…even Jesus and the devil!
country’s reputation around the world and helped millions of hard working Americans. I have sometimes wished that you could move faster on many things (Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, Guantanamo Bay & Afghanistan to name a few), but I trust your judgment and know that you are working as hard as you can. 
I enjoy sharing my photos, stories and views with the world, and that’s why I’m here. I’m admittedly insecure, and thrive on the constant validation that comes from social networking. I think I live a fairly eventful life, but I do know that the majority of people could probably care less when I run into 
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