Police chase ends at Convention Center Red Lion Hotel

I haven't gotten any details about this yet - I haven't seen anything posted online, that is - but a KXL reporter I spoke to said that there was a police chase that ended at the Red Lion Hotel next to the Oregon Convention Center. I don't know where the chase started or why, but I did notice a Gresham Police motorcycle on the scene. When I find out more, I'll put up some links.

Sorry for the crappy photo quality. All I had was my phone.

Update: Story link
KATU (2) report

"I'll take one case of TV Guides"

This is the setup my dad needs. He's quite the avid TV watcher.



From this story in the Beckley, WV Register-Herald.

Paris says roofing and patching potholes are "hot"

Found on the wine list at Assaggio last night:

1998 Barolo Castallero, Brezza.
A solid and richly textured Barolo. Hints of strawberries, raspberries, dried flowers and tar. Smooth and sexy....

That's right, tar. Do you have to heat the bottle up to loosen the tar before drinking it? And what makes it sexy?

Hey you kids! Get offa my lawn!

Hilarious video of goats' reactions to a guy opening an umbrella.



Thanks to foldedspace for the tip-off (on his 11/28 post). And ImageShack for hosting an animated GIF without converting it to a static JPEG, unlike Blogger or flickr.

How's about another list?

I haven't done a themed list for quite a while, because I guess it didn't seem right without Jim around to help. But now, I think it's high time we got another one going!

The theme: Music Acts Whose Members Work For The Power Company. This one could be a challenge, as there are some existing names out there (e.g. Tower of Power, Zapp & Roger, Electric Light Orchestra, Switchfoot?); those names would be disqualified, as they would take zero creativity on your part. It's all about the puns!

As before, your submission gets a link to your site. Hover your mouse over the name to see whom it's based upon, if it isn't obvious. I'll start it off:

1. Belle and Substation (stan)
2. Linkin Spark (stan)
3. Coil and the Gang (stan)
4. Joule (stan)
5. Britney Sparks (Jim)
6. Bon Jolt (Jim)
7. KC and the Solarpanel Band (Jim)
8. Alice Copperwire (Jim)
9. Blink-220 (Ashman)
10. The Rolling Blackouts (Ashman)

The boss wondered why the left half of my keyboard was orange

I was eating some Baked Cheetos this morning, and of course, my fingers quickly became stained orange. This is not convenient for office work, because I have to clean off my fingers thoroughly after handling every Cheeto. When I was in high school I got in the habit of eating with my left hand whenever I was going to use my right for writing, etc. So to this day, I'll really only have the "doodle dust" problem on one side. But at work, my desk is set up for left-hand mousing, so I'm really not avoiding the issue at all.

What I really need is a little pair of tongs, just big enough to handle one Cheeto, so I can munch on them while working and be more productive. I am going to write a letter to Frito-Lay asking them to sell Cheeto Tongs. (Cheeto Tongs, to paraphrase Dave Barry, would be a great name for a rock band.)

UPC nerdery!

I was taking a look at the Winco receipt that I scanned and posted on the 185 blog last night, and saw that some of the descriptions of what I bought are abbreviated to the point of no recognition. So just for kicks, I typed in one of the Universal Product Code (UPC) numbers into a Google search, and I actually got a result.

Now I know that 071464260606 = Perfectly Protein Vanilla Chai Tea with Soy Protein.

So if you have finished doing the online jigsaw that Jim posted about this morning, and still want another way to waste some time, just find some random products lying around, type in the UPC number here, and be amazed.

Or, just take a nap.

Better finish eating before you read this

God sure knew what He was doing when He designed the human body. I was just thinking about this as I was once again forced to overhear Chimp-bo talking about being pregnant. She's the only woman who's ever been pregnant, dontcha know.

Just the fact that babies' digestive systems do not get used until they are born, and therefore they will never poop while inside their mothers' bellies, is reason enough to believe in intelligent design.

On loan from the Louvre

Click to find where I really saw it.

The most amazing commercial ever made

Yes, I know that this is a couple of years old by now, but this was the first time I have seen it in a non-broken website for quite some time. Plus, there are probably a few people out there who haven't seen it.

Honda Accord Ad "Cog"

This was filmed in one continuous take by Portland's award-winning Weiden + Kennedy ad agency. According to this site, it took 606 takes to get it right. That's a lot of film, not to mention patience.

Best commercial of all time, hands down.

I'm guessing Metallica or Slayer (but with soft horns and synthesizers)

Friday afternoon, when we were on the freeway heading toward Seattle, we found ourselves next to a Muzak van. Muzak, as you probably know, is most commonly associated with elevator and supermarket music, corny instrumental versions of popular hits.

I couldn't help but wonder what the driver of the van was listening to on his CD player.

But I got the sandwich unwrapped in a jiffy

I blog on the most mundane things, don't I?

Lunchtime! I bought a small container of tuna cheddar pasta salad from the deli across the street, and I am now finally eating it. For a few seconds there, however, I didn't think I'd get the chance. The deli recently changed the type of plastic container they use to sell product in. As I began lifting the lid of the new style container, I began to realize that the only way I could get the thing open was to pry it up a little at a time, going all the way around, like a paint can, until the whole lid was free. The problem is that as I was undoing the lid on one side, it re-closed itself on the opposite side. This went on, noisily, for quite a while. It really was the lid-opening equivalent of a cat chasing its tail. Finally I had the presence of mind to hold my index finger in the gap to keep it from resealing, and I got the lid off, but this resulted in getting pasta salad all over the finger. And, when the lid finally let go, I nearly dropped the whole darned thing on the floor.

So for future reference, next time you need a bomb dismantled in a hurry, I'm obviously not your guy.

Like high-pitched death knells

Once again, the microwave in the office breakroom sits empty, with three seconds left on its cooking timer. I have noticed this phenomenon no less than ten times since I started here. Clearly, somebody here has a phobia of the microwave's finishing three beeps.

Nike corporate jet lands safely, to nobody's shox

Today the Nike corporate jet had to make an emergency landing after one of its landing gear failed to operate correctly. I have a super-secret source who tells me that right before the landing, one of the crew members climbed outside the plane and installed a pair of Nike Shox shoes to the faulty gear, which allowed the jet to land safely. A testament to the quality of their products, for sure!

Only 3 more shopping days 'til Thansgiving

Christians, let's do a little comparison here.

Thanksgiving: Gathering with family, eating a large meal, maybe watching a football game. Secular holiday.

Christmas: Gathering with family, eating a large meal, exchanging gifts, celebrating the birth of Christ. Religious holiday mixed with the secular traditions.

I propose that the tradition of the giving of gifts should be moved up to Thanksgiving. That way, those of us who feel conflicted and dismayed by the over-commercialization of the religious holiday can still have the enjoyment of giving and receiving gifts with our friends and families, and then devote more of our spiritual time to the celebration of our Savior's birth.

(Yes, I know that I am being Christian-centric here, and that there are other religious holidays celebrated around the same time. But I don't practice those other religions.)

Nice purse, dude

I bought a new set of flannel sheets recently. The packaging for the sheets is a good quality vinyl bag, with a zipper and a rope handle. Why do they package sheets so fancily? Do people re-use those bags? I cannot imagine people saving them to store the sheets when they're not being used. Although hmmmm, it is about the perfect size for a lunch bag...but no, I think I'd raise too many eyebrows if I walked into work carrying a clear, vinyl, rope handled bag containing a sandwich and chips (heck, containing anything).

To protect and serve...laughs?

This just in:

There's a new Police Academy movie in the works. Interestingly, its title on IMDb is not followed by a Roman numeral. It makes me wonder if Warner Brothers is going to try to "re-invent" the franchise, like it did with Batman Begins. Looking closer, though, it seems that some of the old charter members are signed on: Steve Guttenberg, Bubba Smith, Michael Winslow (the sound effects guy), etc. So maybe it isn't a re-invention.

Despite my strongest influence of common sense, I'm going to predict that this new Police Academy, which looks to be released in 2006, will be awesome.

Put some pants on, Doug

The big annual Christmas holiday tree has arrived in Portland, and workers are preparing it for the lighting ceremony that takes place at Pioneer Courthouse Square next Friday. It's quite a tall Douglas Fir, and there are many, many lights, so the job of stringing and powering those lights can be difficult.

However:

Where in the heck are the lower branches? They're in a big pile on the bricks below. That's right, the majority of the branches have been removed from this gigantic tree. Presumably, they will re-attach the limbs in some fashion before the lighting ceremony. I hope none of them fall off accidentally.

Does anyone else feel cheated here?

Gus was always eager to visit his payroll officer

Chimp-bo has a funny way of saying certain words, due to her always sounding slightly drunk. For her, "payroll" sounds like "parole".

Imagine the confusion if she were to work in the state corrections department.

Let not the left armpit know what the right armpit doeth

I ran out of deodorant this morning, after only applying it to one side of my body. I opened a new tube - or stick, I'm not sure what it's called when it's a gel - and applied it to my other side. The new deodorant is a different scent than the old one. So, depending on which side I'm facing, or the direction of the wind, you'll either smell the "Active" me, or the "Fresh Scent" me.

I'm only gonna say this once

I turned 33 today.

Zrharc!

Many Blogger or Blog*spot blogs require a person to type in a random string of letters before their comment will go through to a post. (This blog doesn't have one because of the above spam-trapper post.) Many times, that "word" resembles an actual word, and inspires the commenter to make up a funny definition for it, tacking it onto the end of the comment like so:

gfygbrz <---- Blogger's version of goofy goobers

It occurred to me that there should be a sort of anthology of these wacky words and their definitions. A llxycn <--lexicon, so to speak. Named after the word that inspired the idea, I have created Zrharc! The Comment Word Verification Dictionary.

Obviously, the posts are few (one so far), but hopefully there will be many contributors once this catches on. I want you to be one of those contributors - I just need your e-mail address so I can send you the team-blog invitation. If you've ever played Balderdash, you already know how this works.

Oh, I forgot to mention: Naturally, that blog also has word verification turned on.

Ten bucks says he's a pizza delivery guy

Come to think of it, he probably isn't, since he apparently knows where the brake pedal is.

Yet another reason I need headphones

Within my one-cubicle radius sits a guy (one of the few guys in this office) who I call NPR, because his voice sounds like about a half dozen of the news announcers on that network; most notably Robert Siegel, and to a lesser degree, Linda Wertheimer.

NPR is one of those 40-something guys who still thinks he's living his university glory days. His cubicle is decked out with just about every imaginable piece of OSU licensed merchandise that will fit inside and still allow him access to his chair. I can (sort of) understand supporting a school because you are an alumnus, or you are still a fan of one of their sports teams. Or maybe you have a close family member attending that school now.

But what I overheard in another overly loud conversation today (which, creepily, sounded like a bizarro-world "All Things Considered" story) put this guy right over the line into obsessive insanity: He has not one, but two, recent tattoos of the OSU logo and the Beavers mascot on his body.

Now try to get that image out of your head.

He was definintely "cool"

This morning on the way to work I saw a guy driving a Mazda Miata convertible (that's right, a guy) with the top down. But, because it was 35 degrees outside, he was wearing a wool cap and a full winter jacket. Am I the only one who sees the problem here?

The all-temperature cheer

Oregon Public Broadcasting has been running these specials on the "pioneers" of television lately. The other day I was on my home computer (which, unlike Meagan's Poppy Isabella, has no name), and I heard an episode on TV in the background. Some of the clips they showed had parts where the audience was applauding the performers, and when I heard that applause, something occurred to me: There were no screams of "WHOOOOO!!" and few if any whistles. It was just clapping.

Today's audiences always seem to scream, cheer and whistle while they clap. Watch any sitcom with a live audience. Go to any concert. It's always more than clapping. It's as though there was once a law against yelling and screaming, which at some point was repealed.

Or, perhaps back then, audiences would only cheer if something was actually worth cheering for, but just clapped the rest of the time. Maybe today, our standards have dropped, and we'll call anything "great" even if it's mediocre, yelling and screaming at the most pedestrian of performances.

Whooooo!

Grant me serenity

Two years ago, I worked as a temp for an electronic security system manufacturer. I was in the Purchasing department with about seven or eight buyers. Once the Christmas season hit, one of the buyers brought in an Amy Grant Christmas CD (Home for Christmas), and played it nonstop for two solid weeks. I am not exaggerating here. Every day, for nine hours each day, her CD was playing on the CD boombox in the center of the room.

Naturally, this drove me insane, but there was nothing I could do, as I was just the lowly temp. Never before had I anticipated December 26 with such fervor.

This morning, I came into the office and sat down in my cubicle, refreshed from three days off and ready to start the week. Not five minutes into my workday, I heard, from two cubicles away, the very same Amy Grant CD that tortured me before. And yes, it's set on repeat.

It's gonna be a long month.

And while I'm asking simple questions...

Why does Kentucky Fried Chicken (just KFC nowadays) use the song "Sweet Home Alabama" in its commercials?

Joe wondered why the CD was covered in X's

Simple question: How do the Blind Boys of Alabama sign autographs?

Perhaps I am down by a few points

You know how, In some NBA games, when the home team's down by a few points and the other team has the ball, the PA system does that slow, two-bass-drum cadence and the crowd yells, "De-Fense"? *BOOM-BOOM* De-Fense! *BOOM-BOOM* De-Fense!

Well, that's the "song" I have on my head right now. I don't know why. This is the first time that I can remember where the stuck song isn't a song at all, but a sports chant.

Call Guinness.

Just a minor managerial oversight

I just found out a few minutes ago, via the earsplitting voice of Chimp-bo, that tomorrow is a company holiday. Nobody, my manager included, has actually told me that the office is closed; I would have come in to work as normal, finding the office empty and dark, miffed that I could have slept in, one less gallon of gas in the tank.

In the 16 years that I have been in the working world, as far as I recall, this is the first employer that has been closed on Veterans' Day.

So thanks, Chimp-bo.

Nomenclature impressionante

Say what you will about the French, they have some really cool looking names.

Question: Is it traditional for French or French Canadians to have two middle names? I seem to be seeing a lot of that lately.

I wonder if Letterman has this problem

I have a tiny gap between my two upper front teeth, and I'm slightly obsessed over it. It's not overly diastematic; it's just a fraction of a millimeter. Still, I'm obsessed with making sure there's a good air flow in the gap at all times. After eating anything, if there's any sort of matter left behind in the gap, I will stop whatever I'm doing and work on clearing it out. I usually keep floss in my desk, and when I don't have that, I'll use a piece of paper. Sticky notes work well, business cards even better. All day long, I'm testing the air flow; anything that gets in that gap will make it squeak a little bit, which has to be annoying to my coworkers.

You feel a breeze in here?

It seems like every weekday morning there's one thing I forget to do, or take with me. Sometimes it's my security badge. The other day it was my glasses. Today I forgot to put on a belt. And let me tell you, I need a belt now more than ever, because I have been reducing my girth as of late, and I haven't yet bought any new slacks. Hopefully my pants won't fall down during our morning stretching. Well, if they do, at least I'm not wearing tighty whities.

They're hooked on God

More proof that God exists: Coat hangers.

Nobody but God could come up with so many humorous and creative ways for coat hangers to get tangled up with each other. It must be a daily source of entertainment for Him every morning when I am pulling that day's clothes out of my closet, just watching my befuddled reaction when I grab an extra hanger or two along the way.

Maybe they know where the best local handicapped parking spots are

Over in the right column of this blog is a link to Weather Underground (labeled as "portland weather"). On that site, underneath the five-day forecast, is a little ad with a tagline of Meet Locals. This is almost always accompanied by a photo of an alluring young woman, implying that Meet Locals means Maybe Get Lucky With Locals. Then it says that you can read their hotel tips and travel guides, which tells me that it's actually more like a Frommer's than a dating service.

Anyway, the random photo that came up on today's page was pretty much the same as the others:

But look a little closer. It's actually kind of disturbing:

Clearly, there is something anatomically wrong here. This woman has a disproportionately huge right arm, and no left one. She also appears to be missing the left half of her rib cage.

What is the message here?

Speaking of English-Spanish translations...

Uh, no, I'm pretty sure it's Spanish for "The Villa".

Scarred by the babysitter, part 2

In the summertime, we had to be at the babysitter's place all day long. At lunchtime, we were required to eat our food one item at a time: We had to finish the sandwich before we could eat chips; finish the chips before we could have kool-aid; and finish the kool-aid before we could have the cookie.

To this day, I still eat most meals in the same sequential manner; 99% of the time, I don't even think about it. If I want to "mix and match", I have to make a conscious effort to do so.

Explain this one

Just for fun, I put the word "taco" into an English-to-Spanish translator. It found no matching words in either language.

I thought twice before finishing my yogurt

There's an lady in a nearby cubicle who talks extremely loudly, in a voice that can best be described as a cross between a drunk bimbo and a deaf chimpanzee. I made reference to her in this blog's description line recently. Not only does she assume everyone is always paying attention to her (she just asks questions out loud to whomever will answer her in a three-cube radius), she also will take very personal calls throughout the day without reducing her decibel level.

Today, one of those calls was to inform her that her daughter is unable to poop. She spent the next few minutes describing to the caller detailed ways to remedy the situation. Did I mention that this was during the lunch hour?

And yes, I drove to work without them

Today I am Squinty Man at work (aka Sit Really Close To The Monitor Man), because I accidentally left my glasses at home. There really should be no excuse for this, as I have three pair to choose from. Yet there they sit, all of them, on the top of my bookshelf, next to the fingernail clippers and the old mayo jar full of really small junk.

Ten things that take me back: November

$5 mail order survival knife w/compass
M:P Club
Matchbox cars
“Hi-diddle-dee-dee, the kitty ran up the tree”
Paperback Traders on Halsey
The "77" shirt that I wore until '85
Lunch tickets
Yellow Nerf soccer balls
Kenny, the retired mailman
Drinking Fresca at the soccer tournament

Fighting the power of stuck songs

I've posted more than once about songs that have gotten stuck in my head for days at a time, causing me much grief and anguish. But once in a while, a good song will get in there that I want to keep, because the rhythm or the bass line is so great. Today that song is Public Enemy's "Fight the Power"; I'm pretty sure that song was in Jarhead, which I saw on Friday. (I could be wrong about that.)

Coincidentally, that song contains samples from James Brown's music. A couple of weeks ago, Brown's "Get Up" was another one of those good stuck songs.

Just a little house cleaning

I have cleaned up some of the links that I don't really check up on anymore. I added a new one, Special Fried Rice, which I began reading and already like. I'll try to catch up on that one this week. I added the Anonymous Lawyer, which I have commented on before, and Lo's blog, which I keep up with but haven't linked until now.

It also appears that our friend Jim may be meandering his way back into the blogosphere. His previously-retired blog, It's Jim, now has some of its earliest posts up again. There's one that's dated October 30, but I am pretty sure that it's one of the old ones, too. I hope he comes back in earnest soon.

Two other friends, Chicken Little and Scott, have slowed down their blogs considerably. Chicken Fried Life looks to be on a solid hiatus, while Ashman, who has another worthy way to spend his time, still gives us the occasional photo once in a while. Edit: See the first comment for the C.F.L./S.F.R. connection.

Also, I have kind of slowed down my own updating in the last few weeks. I'd like to start posting with a little more frequency, perhaps inspired by Jim's earlier, short-but-sweet posts. We'll see.

That's the nature of the blogging life...it comes and goes, speeds up and slows down. Friends say goodbye, and new friends are discovered. It's all good.

Next thing you know, they'll be playing "Deck the Halls" on Labor Day

I went across the street to the deli to grab some lunch, and they had Mix 106.7 playing on their radio. The station was playing the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's version of "Carol of the Bells." That's right, folks. It's November 4, 2005, and a local station is already playing Christmas music.

I think that sets some sort of record. If not the Earliest In The Year Christmas Music Is Played record, then at least the Earliest In The Year I Have Become Sick Of Hearing It.

Call Guinness.

Somewhere, after reading this, a 971'er will sing "We Shall Overcome"

Someone called me this morning with a number I kind of recognized. I thought it might've been Dave, but his name, which is stored in the phone, didn't come up...just a raw number. I don't answer calls from unrecognized numbers. Whoever called left me no voice mail.

I checked my phone book, and sure enough, Dave's number is very similar to the one that called me. This was the text message conversation that followed:

Me: Dave did you call me earlier with another phone? If not do you recognize 971-xxx-xxxx?

Dave: Not me. Not my number.

Me: Just very close. Those 971 numbers all look the same to me. Does that make me a 503 snob, or a prefix bigot? :)

Maybe I should just drive in the river

In addition to the apparent doubling of traffic on my morning commute (which requires me to leave ten or more minutes earlier to get to work at the same time as before), now we've got the rain. And wow, is it raining a lot lately.

McLoughlin Blvd. has problems with rainwater drainage. For literally miles of the main thoroughfare, standing water is along both shoulders, and it's causing visibility problems. In the left lane, massive quantities of water splash over the top of the barrier and onto the windshields of opposing traffic. It's unnerving when I already have the wipers on full speed, then a wall of white water hits the glass, blinding me for a second or two. And in the right lane, standing water is twice as deep, so traffic crawls along.

I know that this isn't New Orleans, so I can't complain too much, but we're still keeping more water on the streets than we should.

My yogurt made the grade

So I'm eating a cup of yogurt right now, and I look at the printed label. It says that this is Grade A Nonfat Yogurt. Grade A. Is there any point to putting this on there? Seriously, does anyone even sell Grade B or lower?

It's like Fancy ketchup. Every ketchup I have ever seen is Fancy. Why is even called Fancy? Does that mean that it's suitable for consumption at a formal dinner in a mansion? Because when I'm squirting it over a paper plate piled with tater tots, I'm really not thinking, "By Jove, this is Fancy ketchup. I should be using the fine china!"

Hmm, maybe I should have poured the yogurt into a fancy crystal goblet before eating it.