Author: King Tom

King Tom Is Not An Anti-Dentite

As I type this, there is a package containing $15 in random change on its way to the office of my former dentist, and I cannot wait ’till it gets there.

The dentist, of whom I had been a patient for about four years, is charging me $15 for copies of my records. 

During the four years I had been a patient, I never had a wait time shorter than 35 minutes.  Add to that her staff “forgetting” to get a permanent crown made for me (twice!) and the fact that I moved to the other side of town and you could see why I wanted to change the person who I pay to stick their fingers in my mouth.  Last year, the Civee started going to a dentist a few blocks away from us, suggested I try him out and I figured a clean break from Dentist #1 was necessary.  I called Dentist #1, asked them to send my records to Dentist #2 and thought that was that.  

Until I received a bill for $15, which Dentist #1 claimed was for copying the X-Rays, standard procedure in her office.  It wasn’t the amount, but the fact that she was charging me for this that kicked my stubbornness into high gear.  I am not an anti-dentite.  This is all about the principle.

I sent her a kind letter saying  her office never said they would charge for the records and that I’m legally entitled to a copy of my records free of charge.  She responded saying there’s a state law saying they can charge (nevermind the fact that federal law supersedes state law), and I dismissed her letter until we received a second notice.

At this point, the Civee urged me to pay so this wouldn’t affect our credit history.  I agreed, but would do so in my own manner.  My own manner being the least convenient, but legal way short of sending the money in McDonald’s bucks.  So I went to the bank, asked for $15 in change, packed it up tightly (along with a note asking for a receipt–I resisted the urge to write ‘Keep the change, ya filthy animals’ on the note as well), took it to UPS and sent it off.  While filling out the packing slip, I didn’t list anything under the contents, but under the declared value, I put $15.

So is going through the work of paying a bill in change (not to mention paying the cost of having that change sent) a pointless exercise? Maybe, but it makes me feel a lot better.  Unless one of those coins is a double-die Denver mint penny.  Those things are worth a fortune.

King Tom4 Comments

Welcome Back To Columbus

The Civee and I spent the past week visiting my mother in Portland, Oregon.  In Portland, the weather is nice (categorized as nice by virtue of being above freezing), the landscape varied and the food choices/cultures abundant.

We returned to frigid Columbus today, and tired of our travelling, we decided to keep it simple and order pizza.  I called to have it delivered from a place that shall go nameless (*cough PAPAJOHNS *cough) and had the following conversation:

Him: Hello and thank you for calling — would you like to try the deluxesuperfamiliyvaluedealfortwentyfiveninetynine?

Me: Excuse me?

Him: Would you like to try the deluxe super family value deal for twenty five ninety-nine?

Me: What is included in that?

Him: Ummm…I’m not sure. Hold on a second.

Me: Nevermind.  I’ll have a large pie.

Him: We don’t sell pies, we sell pizzas.

Me: Ever hear of a pizza pie, chief?

Him: Oh. A large pizza.

Me: Yeah, half plain, half sausage peppers and onions.

Him: Sooo…on that one side, no cheese or sauce?

How tough is it to order a freakin’ pizza on a Saturday night?  A few days ago I was having this great Phở and now I have to convince a guy working at [CENSORED] that yes, I do want a pizza with cheese and tomato sauce.  Oh well, at least I didn’t have to order from Donatos.

King Tom3 Comments

Rivers Cuomo: Alone Again

If there was ever an album that I’m predisposed to like, it would be Alone II: The Home Recordings of Rivers Cuomo.

The second in a series (of hopefully many) of albums of [Weezer lead singer’s] Rivers Cuomo’s home solo demos gives listeners a chance to hear some of the songs that weren’t big radio hits (or necessarily tunes that made a Weezer album), but are instead some of Rivers’ favorite compositions.

This album is the Empire Strikes Back to Alone I’s A New Hope.  While Alone I was good and gave the fans a taste of songs they’d been waiting to hear, Alone II is deeper and more emotionally satisfying.  Alone II actually flows as a comprehensive album.  The only drawback to the album-not everything is epic or even great (similar to Alone I).  There are two song snippets that don’t stand up on their own.  And the three tracks representing Songs From The Black Hole are more exposition for the overall SFTBH story than songs that stand up on their own (with the possible exception of Come to My Pod).

Other than those five tracks, the rest of the album consists of songs that could have made any Weezer album, and a few that could be big radio hits.  They’re enjoyable songs with no embarassing boy band-style attempts at music like Alone I’s This Is the Way.  Some of the songs, like The Purification of Water, My Brain is Working Overtime and The Prettiest Girl in the Whole Wide World have already been circulated in a live or inferior quality version amongst fans.  In those cases, it’s great to have those songs in an official version.

As a fan bordering on the obsessive, for me, the gem of the album is actually its liner notes.  I described last year’s liner notes as “detailed,” but Alone II’s liners put those to shame.  The booklet is a 28-page chronological journey through Rivers’ songwriting life.  He’s brutally honest with the places he was in during his lows, as well as how analytical he could be with his obsessive of writing the perfect song.  However, it sounds like he has regained his confidence and is in a better place.  Either way, I’m looking forward to any other writing projects he may have in his future.

As well as the musical ones.

King Tom

Something I Should Have Done A Long Time Ago

I’ve been a member of AOL since sometime in 1992.  And today, I’m declaring the era of AOL as my primary online identity (e-mail address, etc) over.

To put that in historical perspective:

  • Mel Hall was on the Yankees roster.
  • The British Bulldog was the WWF Intercontinental Champion.
  • Weezer had barely been a band for six months at this point.
  • Timothy Dalton was James Bond.

I gave up AOL as my ISP three-plus years ago.  And now, after being fed up with unreliable Web mail service and ads at the bottom of every e-mail, I’m switching to Gmail.  

I’ve had Gmail for a while, but out of some sense of loyalty have always given out my AOL SN first.  Well, no longer.  I’ve set up Gmail to import my AOL e-mail automatically, which it’s done a good job of doing.  And today, Gmail rolled out their themes, which are pretty entertaining.  Plus, it’s free, with no ads in the outgoing e-mail, so I’m going to stick around.

My independence begins now.

King Tom

So Long, Survivorman

For my money, Les Stroud (a.k.a. Survivorman) is the hardest working man in showbiz.

The premise of Survivorman is simple: Les spends a week alone in some wilderness area somewhere in the globe with few (if any) resources and is responsible for not only his own survival, but recording the whole thing himself.  In other words, as viewers sit in their climate-controlled homes on comfy couches with an assortment of snacks at hand, Les is living in some cold (or hot) place, trying to start a fire and if he’s lucky, munching on a handful of bugs while making sure he’s in the camera frame.

The show is great and it’s amazing the situations Les gets himself into and out of.  For those of you into Lost, he’s like a real-life Locke, except (as far as I know) he wasn’t once paralyzed and has both his kidneys. 

But after three seasons, I don’t blame Les for hanging up his multi-tool.  From the CBC:

“You can only do seven days surviving without food a certain number of times a year. I’m pleased with what I have done, I’ve been copied around the world, but 25 times I’ve not eaten anything for a week while sleeping on rocks. I need to move on,” he said.

If you haven’t watched Survivorman, I implore you to give it a shot. It’s definitely worth watching and (re-watching).

Just like the castaways on Lost, if there was someone I’d count on to make sure I survive, it would be Les (even if he can’t catch a fish).  If I’m ever in a survival situation (that doesn’t involve take-out), I’ll think of some tips I’ve learned from watching Les:

  • Talking to yourself actually helps.
  • Put your bait inside your traps before setting them up.
  • Don’t eat too much rabbit (or drink too much coconut juice).
  • Punky wood is the best for starting a fire.
  • You can start a fire with two sticks and a lot of hard work.
  • When you sweat, you die.

King Tom2 Comments

Chicken for [Christmas] Dinner

Last night I had a dream in which I was on summer vacation, grilling some chicken.  A news report came over the radio announcing the Earth was being invaded by aliens. For the most part, these aliens meant no harm–but they were fixated on chicken. They wanted to eat all of the Earth’s chicken. As I stood there grilling my chicken, I was approached by a number of aliens who were dispatched thanks to my quick thinking and creative use of some garden implements.

Like I said, it was just a dream.

Well, this morning, The Civee and I were driving into work and listening to NPR (The Civee’s choice, not mine) and they ran a story about the Japanese Trend of chicken for Christmas dinner:

While eating chicken on Christmas is popular here, many may prefer to stick to a Japanese tradition that dates back to the 1970s: heading to the nearest Kentucky Fried Chicken, where a set of roast chicken, cake, salad and a commemorative plate sells for 5,300 yen.

I’m already hoping to have a non-traditional turkey-less Thanksgiving. I wonder if this dream and subsequent news about Japanese Christmas traditions is a sign that I should consider grilling this Christmas.

King Tom1 Comment

The Sweep

October 27, 1999
Yankees 4, Braves 1 (World’s Series Game 4)

After graduating college, it took me nine months to find a job doing what I wanted to do.  I spent from May through December of ’99 sending out tapes and resumes to with TV stations around the country, snagging an occasional interview and little interest.  To keep myself busy, I worked a few meaningless jobs and helped coach my former speech team.  

I’d travel to Seton Hall at least once a week, mostly on Tuesday nights and coach for a few hours.  Tuesday October 26 was game 3, so I did my few hours of coaching then hung out with my friend Jon (the convert) to watch the game.  It was an exciting game with the Braves coming out to an early lead, followed by the Yankees coming back and finally winning it as Chad Curtis took center stage at the plate and on the mic.  

Jon and I were Chad fans from a game a few years earlier (I have yet to get to in this segment) where he started in left field and acknowledged our cheers.  Having the game end in extra innings on a walk-off home run was exciting.  As I left and headed for home, I said something to the effect that there’s little that can happen the next day in game four to top game three.

Had I known I’d be going to game four, I might have not said something so stupid.  Sometime early that Wednesday, a friend of my father’s gave him tickets to game four.  For some reason, King Classic couldn’t go.  So I called up Jon, who bowed out of a LCS game the year prior due to school newspaper commitments, and Setonian be damned, he was in.  

I picked Jon up at Seton Hall and we drove my old car (an ’87 Buick Century Limited I held on to until aught-three) to the stadium, encountering little traffic on the way in.  Our tickets weren’t that bad. We were field level on the first base side, but in the very last row.  The only drawback to the last row is there’s about three fewer inches of legroom in the row, but that wasn’t a problem, because we stood for most of the game anyway.  On our way into the stadium, some fans were passing out photocopied signs that read ‘Ban Jim Grey.’  I snagged one and actually think I still have the collector’s item somewhere in my possession.  

Roger Clemens, who never seemed to fit in during his first year as a Yankee started the game and held the Braves scoreless through seven, before allowing two runners in the eighth, one of whom eventually scored off Jeff Nelson.  The Yankees had scored three runs in the third off a pair of singles by Tino Martinez and [Hip-Hip] Jorge Posada.  So between the third and eighth, all we were doing was hoping the Yankees could hold the Braves to as little damage as possible.

Thankfully, the Braves only scored one in the eighth.  There was a big debate this point among some fans to the right of us whether the Braves should bring in controversial reliever and grade-A jackass john Rocker to keep the game close.  Braves manager Bobby Cox didn’t do that, instead throwing out lefthander Terry Mulholland who was utterly ineffective in one season as a Yankees starter in ’94.  Jim Leyritz was brought in to pinch hit for Darryl Strawberry and bolstered my confidence in the ineptitude of Mulholland with a home run off the lefthander.

The Yankees didn’t need any more offense, as Mariano Rivera threw a scoreless inning and a third to close out the game, with the World Series ending as Keith Lockhart’s pop fly landed in Chad Curtis’ glove.

Other than Roger Clemens dancing on the dugout, the team didn’t celebrate much as Right Fielder Paul O’Neill’s father died the night before.  The fans weren’t so subdued, as Jon and I hung around for a while, before heading back to Jersey.  

Of course, I realized early on that day that it would be much, much better than the day before.

King Tom1 Comment

You Know My Name [Look Up My Number]

A while back I was having a conversation with The Civee where she claimed that I don’t use a person’s name while speaking to them.  For example, instead of saying “Hey Gustave, these are some kick-ass curly fries,” I’d say “These are some kick-ass curly fries.”  

She’s right–I don’t say people’s names that often while talking to them.  Unless I’m in a crowded room, chances are the person on the other end of the conversation knows I’m talking to them.  But I think there’s a subconscious reason for that too.  A lot of times, I tend to blank on people’s names, especially if they’re a casual acquaintance.   It’s not that I don’t care about the person to whom I’m talking, it’s just of all the things my memory is good at, names usually aren’t one of them.

Last night, I was at a meeting and decided to greet someone using their name.  Except, as I started to say it, I realized that I had their name wrong.  So I ever so gracefully, while in the middle of the first syllable of their [incorrect] name, just covered my mouth and coughed.  And then proceeded with the rest of the conversation, hoping they didn’t notice.

How do I avoid this in the future? Stop using people’s names. Or become one of those guys who calls everyone “Ace,” “Chief” or “Boss.”

King Tom2 Comments