David’s Journal

If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says fifteen miles to the Love Shack. The Love Shack is a little old place where the B52s used to get together. Love Shack, baby.

But love rules at the Lo-o-ove Shack no more. It’s set way back in the middle of a field, where it burned down recently.

Fire on the mattress. Firetrucks on the highway. Fire on the front porch. Fire on the hallway.

Sign says— woo. Stay away fools. You’re too late.

I was just made aware of this:

CALLER: I agree with what you’ve been saying recently — you’re concerned about the secularization of Christmas and — I’m concerned about the secularization of Jews and about the — and Christmas going into schools.

When I was growing up — I’m Jewish, but I was not in a very Jewish area. There were some Jews there but, I was kind of — grew up with a resentment because I felt that people were trying to convert me to Christianity –

BILL O’REILLY: Were they?

CALLER: Yeah, when I got to college I found out — that’s true. A lot of people were. I found that millions of dollars were spent trying to convert –

O’REILLY: I mean that you really believe that people were trying to convert — you personally — were trying to make you change from being Jewish to Christian?

CALLER: Absolutely.

O’REILLY: How do they do that?

CALLER: Well, for example, there are various organizations in the colleges that go to people — try to invite you to Bible study groups –

O’REILLY: Yeah, I know, but — I mean, you don’t have to go. I mean they do that to me. They come — the Jehovah’s Witnesses come to my door and invite me places. I mean, I don’t care — I just say no, get outta here.

CALLER: The thing is, is when you have — for example, Christmas carols or gift exchanges being done in school, that kind of sets the kids up to being converted.

O’REILLY: Yeah, but you give gifts on Hanukkah, don’t you?

CALLER: No, there’s not really a Jewish tradition of giving gifts on –

O’REILLY: Well, the seven candles [sic], you get a gift for every night, don’t you?

CALLER: Actually, the Jews give gifts on –

O’REILLY: All right. Well, what I’m tellin’ you, [caller], is I think you’re takin’ it too seriously. You have a predominantly Christian nation. You have a federal holiday based on the philosopher Jesus. And you don’t wanna hear about it? Come on, [caller] — if you are really offended, you gotta go to Israel then. I mean because we live in a country founded on Judeo — and that’s your guys’ — Christian, that’s my guys’ philosophy. But overwhelmingly, America is Christian. And the holiday is a federal holiday honoring the philosopher Jesus. So, you don’t wanna hear about it? Impossible.

And that is an affront to the majority. You know, the majority can be insulted, too. And that’s what this anti-Christmas thing is all about.

Busy day at work, but I will editorialize later…

Next on Fox: in a 90-minute special to air on January 3, a young adopted woman interviews 8 older men. One of those eight men is her biological father. The others are imposters.

If the woman guesses the identity of her “daddy” correctly, she wins $100,000. If she guesses incorrectly, the man she guesses wins the money.

“It’s a fun and healthy way to get to know this person that they’ve never met,” explains Kevin Healey, one of the producers of this program.

“The daughters feel bad when they pick wrong because they’re like, ‘I let my dad down,’” adds the other producer, Scott Hallock.

The article doesn’t explain where Healey and Hallock came up with the premise for this show. I imagine it happened at a bar.

Healey: I’m so wasted.
Hallock: Me too.
Healey: Too bad we’re unemployed television producers spending the last of our money on beer.
Hallock: Definitely. I know. Let’s score some chicks.
Healey: That’s a good idea. Know any good pick-up lines?
Hallock: Um, ‘your feet must be tired? You’ve been running through my mind all day?’ Hehehe.
Healey: Hahaha. That’s great. I’ve got another: ‘ Can I borrow your phone number. I lost mine.’
Hallock: Hehehe. That’s great. You’re such a great writer. I have no idea why we can’t find work.
Healey: Hollywood these days, man. It’s just gotten so high-brow.
Hallock: Check this one out: ‘I’m like totally a real TV producer. Come home with me!’
Healey: Dude, we’re in L.A. That’s never going to work.
Hallock: Oh. Right, man.
Healey: Hey! Check out that hot mamma!
Hallock: Who’s your daddy? Who’s your daddy??
Healey: Dude! That’s like the coolest phrase ever!!
Hallock: Huh?
Healey: Who’s your daddy!
Hallock: Scott Hallock Sr.
Healey: No, man. Think about it. We can do a TV show called ‘Who’s Your Daddy.’
Hallock: But what’s it about?
The two look up at the TV in the bar, and see Barbara Walters doing a controversial special on adoption.

Epiphany.

While sitting in my office, completing a never-ending window dub for the Roundy’s Corporation, I came upon a strange plastic object near my feet. I could not identify what this object was.

A little while later, I was standing up to stretch. That was when I noticed a second example of this strange plastic object. I picked it up, grouped it with the other, and declared loudly (and entirely to myself):

“Here’s the other one! The other one of what, I do not know.” I then found this declaration amusing, and wrote it down, chuckling to myself.

Later, I inexplicably typed it up and posted it on my blog.

I suspect that I am going mad. Did I mention I am getting over a serious cold?

In related news, I got offered two free tickets, wheelchair + companion, to Sunday’s reportedly nail-biting Packers game (face value: $175).

I may not be a football fan in general, and I may originally hail from Chicago, but I certainly recognize the value of “free,” especially since I am ostensibly a cheesehead in every other way (I like beer, vegetarian brats, and bowling, as well as cheese… plus I exhibit the distinct characteristic of actually living here).

However, because of my debilitating illness, I declined. To underscore why I missed work yesterday, I explained this to my boss, a diehard Packer fan.

She wondered aloud if perhaps I should have checked myself into the hospital.

In driving to West Chicago yesterday (and back today), I noticed that the Toll Authority has covered up the the price of tolls.

The one big menu-like sign immediately before the plaza, which features details on axles and stuff, still lists the price. But the signs above the road that precede the plaza no longer mention how much it costs.

In the short term, I could imagine some confused out-of-staters having to scramble to get the right change at the last minute, because they weren’t given enough warning. But I guess this means that only two signs per plaza (one in each direction) will need to be simultaneously updated at 12:01 a.m. on January 1.

No concern to me. I just drove through the iPass lane. Then, via the Internet, I printed my receipt when I got back to the office to submit for my expense report.

There is something about an Art Deco building with smoke coming out of it that resembles a kind of Superman/ Spiderman comic book sort of dark world, especially in this picture from the Tribune.

As long as I am posting in the “Photography” category, I should mention that LaSalle Bank had one of the largest and most prestigous collections of artistic photography in the world, on display in this building, including the two floors that burned. No word yet on what was lost.

I was thinking of “blog.” Or “weblog.” Either way. And it guessed “webpage.” But it didn’t guess “blog.” So I won. Ha ha.

Other than that, this usually guessed what I was thinking about. Assuming I answered the questions truthfully.

In the small town of Cedarburg, just north of Milwaukee, there dwells a crossing guard. She was a happy crossing guard.

Until one day, she got cancer. And she was treated for her cancer. But she missed her “children.”

The 72-year-old woman had been a crossing guard for eight years.

So, on the first of November, 2004, she triumphantly returned to her job. And when she returned to her post on Thornapple Lane, she found her very own park bench. Right there, next to the fire hydrant.

Susanne was one of the area mothers who organized a campaign to purchase the $100 bench. “We all love her so much,” she told the Journal Sentinel. “When she came back, we all wanted her to have a place where she could sit.”

The crossing guard was stunned. “It was very nice of them.”

The beloved crossing guard, who reportedly knows not only the names of all the neighborhood children, but also the neighborhood dogs, enjoyed her bench. And when she was off duty, other members of the community enjoyed the bench as well.

Perhaps a bit too much.

For trouble was on the horizon. In the shadow of the night, on November 13 (or, 14— no one is entirely sure), someone evil entered tranquil Cederburg…

…and stole the bench!

Susanne was disappointed, but vowed that she would get the woman a new bench. The crossing guard was shocked. “I just can’t believe someone would take something that didn’t belong to them. It was a very lovely bench. It just stinks.”

The quotes are from a story in the Journal Sentinel dated 11/24.

The bench was located in the public right-of-way, near the street, next to a fire hydrant. My theory is that someone was driving through the neighborhood, looking for discarded items at the curb. This happens all the time in the suburbs— people throw out furniture, bikes, appliances that are still good, if a bit 1970s. Then, “enterprising” individuals (a.k.a. glorified dumpster divers) come by and pick them up before the garbage man comes.

Some idiot drove by, saw the bench, decided it was nice, and took it home.

Either he doesn’t read the paper, or he was so ashamed for stealing a bench from a 72-year-old woman that he chose not to report his accidental theft.

That’s my crazy theory. But anyhow, the story continues, in today’s Journal Sentinel…

Glory! For the Bench has Returned!

Thankfully, the Saga of the Bench was reported on Thanksgiving Day, when Americans of all shapes and sizes feel Unusually Charitable. Many people sent in money for the cause, including one donor who wrote a check for the full value of the missing bench.

All that money will go towards a gift for the crossing guard. For the crossing guard already has a new bench. It was donated by a fellow named Clifford who makes benches by hand, and then donates them.

Fortunately, he already had a handmade bench on hand.

Clifford was humble, as you’d expect from a man who makes benches— “I like to make stuff”— and then gives them away— “I’ll just make another one.”

A local architect got involved too. He had the idea to put the bench further away from the street— and stake it into the ground— to prevent it from getting stolen again.

Once more, all is well in Cedarburg, Wisconsin.

I am going to test a feature I haven’t tested yet.

Edit: It didn’t work. But I shall learn how to make it work.

…and action.

May my latest attempt at a blog be the most successful.

I am getting rather good at installing WordPress. Want one?

Even though this site didn’t exist yesterday, I am going to post an entry and date it yesterday.

This is to make sure the formatting looks good. Which it should anyhow. I based the formatting off of the ol’ Wedding Blog.

I just made it Better Than Ever.