April 27, 2005
No, not me. Orbitz is running a new commercial for its gay travel segment called New Boyfriend. It’s cool that Orbitz advertises to the gay & lesbian set like this. You can see ads for just about any major company with a product to sell in Out or The Advocate, but there are few companies using mainstream media to target specifically target a gay audience.
The commercial is funny, though, because it’s so bad. The gay couple is so incredibly over-the-top gay that you expect them to start making out right on stage. The flamboyant queer “travel agent” is a stereotype of a stereotype, such a bitchy queen that he’d make Ru Paul look like James Earl Jones.
All the funny overacting aside, though, the best part of the ad is Wink Martindale. Ol’ Wink, who’s got to be pushing 115, emcees the game show-themed ad like he never left the set of Tic Tac Dough. This is a guy whose web site extolls the virtues of prayer in public schools, and who writes at length about his downright adoration of the armed forces. The way he stares off-camera when saying the phrase “gay-friendly hotel” just gives off this “what the hell am I doing” vibe that cracks me up so bad.
Yet there ol’ Wink is, telling us the best way to find a gay-friendly hotel with a gym and a mini bar. I gotta hand it to him—whether he’s just hard up for cash or really is that “gay-friendly” himself, he jumped right in to his first gay-themed TV ad.
The only part that I couldn’t get behind? The gay couple chooses a two-star hotel out of all the options in San Francisco. As if.
April 23, 2005
Yesterday after work, I headed down to my local watering hole, the unfortunately-named Pickles Pub, for a few drinks. In spite of the name, it’s a cool bar with some great bar staff (don’t worry Jon, you’re still my favorite) and it’s a good place to sit alone and drink yourself into oblivion. And I can easily walk home from there, which is great.
So last night I was, as always, drinking alone, when this very pretty girl came and saddled up next to me. That’s almost always a good thing. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just nursing her own beer and watching TV. Then I happened to make eye contact with her, she smiled, and she said, “Hi, I’m Jessica. You are Matt Thomas.”
Well, now, that’s happened before. When I was living on Tybee, I had a bad habit of meeting people when I was drunk, then completely forgetting them the next time I saw them. My memory fails me when I’ve been getting my drink on. So at first, I thought this was one of those times. I hemmed and hawed for a second, trying to remember where I knew this girl from. Then, she smiled, and said, “I go to your web site all the time.”
So that was it. I’d never met Jessica before. She recognized me from the web site. I was floored. I’ve always said that I could never understand why anyone who doesn’t already know me would come here. I understand why people find it, doing Google searches or whatever, but why they’d want to come back escapes me. I know this site isn’t very interesting.
But at any rate, this is my big shout out to Jessica, my avid reader with the keen eye and the luck to find me actually out on the town on a Friday night. And to the legions of readers that I am now convinced are out there: feel free to find me and buy me a drink any time. I like to get close to my fans.
April 23, 2005
While Apple’s web site is still trumpeting “6 days until Tiger is available,” I was thrilled to get my copy yesterday. I’m lucky like that. When I use this thing, it just blows my mind that anyone would still use Windows voluntarily. Take a look for yourself.
April 21, 2005
7:15 AM — Woken up by sirens.
7:16–8:00 AM — Toss and turn.
8:00 AM — Get ready for work. No shampoo; wash hair with soap.
8:55 AM — Call valet for car. No answer.
9:00 AM — Arrive at valet stand; wait 10 minutes for valet to return from restroom.
9:10 AM — Leave for work.
9:25 AM — Arrive at work.
9:30–10:15 AM — Working.
10:15 AM — Leave for Penn Station, to travel to D.C. for client visit.
10:30 AM — Arrive at Penn Station. Garage is full. Decide to drive home and take the light rail back to Penn.
10:35 AM — Car breaks down. This is an entire entry in itself, which will undoubtedly come later.
10:36 AM — Freak out.
10:50 AM — Make it home. Tell valet to put car somewhere he won’t have to move it for a while. I have officially missed my 10:50 train to D.C.
11:15 AM — Leave on foot en route to Camden Yards light rail stop.
11:22 AM — Arrive at Camden Yards just in time to make the train.
11:55 AM — Light rail arrives at Penn Station, fifteen minutes late. I have now missed my 11:40 train to D.C.
12:40 PM — Depart Penn station via MARC train to D.C.
1:30 PM — Arrive D.C. Picked up at Union Station by my cheery co-worker. I decide that the day is going to get better.
Somewhere between 1:30 and 4:00 PM — Freight train derails, overturns, on Camden rail line.
2:00-3:00 PM — Productive meeting with client. Visit a beautiful school campus and take some photos that will make the rest of my job on the project much easier.
3:30 PM — Arrive at Union Station. Oblivious to day’s events, purchase MARC ticket on Camden line. First time I have ever taken the Camden line instead of the Penn.
4:00 PM — Board 4:15 MARC train to Camden Yards.
4:20 PM — 4:15 train has not yet left. Call Comcast to let them know that I will not be home at our prescheduled time to disconnect digital cable and cable internet.
4:45 PM — 4:15 MARC train to Camden Yards departs, after combining 4:15 and 4:45 trains. Still oblivious to freight train derailment.
4:46 PM — Informed over loudspeaker that track north of Savage is closed. Buses will be waiting on us at Savage train station to transport us to Camden Yards.
5:15 PM — Arrive at Savage station. No buses.
5:45 PM — Receive call from Comcast techician wanting to know where I am and why I am not there to meet him. Begin to explain that I called and left a message with Comcast.
5:47 PM — Become irate, yell at Comcast technician needlessly.
5:50 PM — Realize that I will not be home in time to meet Peapod.com delivery guy. Call and leave a message because no one ever answers the damn phone.
6:15 PM — Receive call from Peapod.com guy wanting to know why I am not there to meet him for my delivery. Realize that no one ever checks their voicemail anymore. Feel overwhelming urge to yell at Peapod.com guy. Suppress the urge. I will not eat tonight.
6:15 PM — Buses arrive. A bit late.
6:30–7:00 PM — Ride, standing up, on Metrobus from Savage to Baltimore.
7:00 PM — Arrive in Baltimore.
7:10 PM — Arrive home.
7:10:05 PM — Hit with wall of heat. Realize that air conditioner in apartment is broken. It is 85º in my apartment. It is 78º outside.
7:11–7:30 PM — Screaming into a pillow.
7:31 PM — Strip half-naked, open a window, and begin doing the work that I was kept from all day long.
April 18, 2005
Today, three days earlier than they’d promised, Verizon had my DSL service working when I returned from work. Setting up my all-in-one DSL modem/wireless router took about 15 minutes, and Broadband Reports’ speed test shows my downstream the same, while my upstream has more than doubled what I had with Comcast.
Comcast, meanwhile, never returned my call on Wednesday asking to cancel my service. I called again today, and was told that my account had already been cancelled (although it’s still running) and that I had missed my cancellation appointment on Saturday. I had not, however, made such an appointment—apparently Comcast’s employees decided that rather than schedule something with me, they’d just show up on Saturday afternoon and see if I was home. Sorry that didn’t work out for you.
So now I’m paying 2/3 of what I was with Comcast, getting more bandwidth, and not having to deal with inept CSRs. If anyone else from Comcast asks me why I’m canceling, I guess I’ll just refer them to this article.
April 17, 2005
This being the first time I’ve ever lived in a city with a major league sports team, I don’t know much about the logistics of how this all works. I am learning.
Today, I learned what a “weekend series” is. Baseball fans, try not to roll your eyes for a moment while I explain this to all the homos and girly-girls out there—a weekend series is when your local baseball team PLAYS BASEBALL CONSTANTLY. That is to say, there’s a game on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. It’s cool. I like the crowds, because it gives me the feeling that sometimes, people really do want to visit the city I’ve chosen as my home. I like the energy that accompanies it. And while I haven’t actually gone to an Orioles game yet, I like the fact that we’re winning. That’s something anyone can appreciate.
Unfortunately, when you live in Ridgely’s Delight, it basically means that if you’re not going to the game, you really shouldn’t bother trying to go anywhere. Traffic is flowing, slowly but unceasingly, toward and away from Camden Yards in sync with the activities at Oriole Park. To try to drive in the opposite direction is like swimming against a whitewater current. So trying to leave my apartment while everyone else is driving toward me is pretty much futile.
So, instead of doing all the sightseeing and orienting I’d planned for today, I just rode the Metro for a little while to see what it was like (sad), heard a fire and brimstone sermon on the corner of Lexington & Eutaw (frightening; p.s. I’m going to Hell), ate a $14 crab cake at Faidley’s (more or less worth it), then found Fells Point because someone told me it’s beautiful (it is). All in all, I guess the only difference was that it got my fat ass walking around the city, instead of driving in my car. So while part of me really wants to bitch about the traffic and the crowds, I guess it all worked out in the end.
Now I swear I won’t post again for now. Three times in a day is admittedly a bit much, but I feel like I gotta make up for all the time I’m at my real job now.
April 16, 2005
Visiting Fells Point for the first time—and I really, really liked it—I was startled to find myself face to face with the Bovine Unite cows. They gave me milk duds.
Having seen the billboards around the city lately, I had just figured they were a campaign for PETA or Chik-fil-A, until Shaun pointed out the MetaFilter thread about it.
Reading the MeFi thread, I started to feel a little bit like a media whore for being interested in a marketing campaign. Then I remembered that I’m a graphic designer, which, by definition, makes me a media whore. So I’ll post about it anyway, because whether it’s advertising the SPCA or the National Cattleman’s Beef Association, it’s damn good design.
Now, I suppose, we wait for “C-DAY” on 05.05.05.
April 16, 2005
Last night while I was trying, in vain, to get my drink on at the Camden Pub, this old guy comes up to me and goes, “hey, Hurley!” I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about, so I do my little smile and laugh and gesture with my drink move. When I’m trying to get someone at a bar to leave me alone, giving them a slight acknowledgment usually does it.
This dude, however, would not be denied. Again, “how you doing, Hurley?” This time, I did my half-smile, half-laugh, what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about-you-complete-stranger gesture. This clued him in that we were not on the same page.
Him: “Don’t you know Lost?”
Me: “No, is that like a TV show or a movie or something?”
Him (aghast): “It’s like, the number one show on TV!”
Me: “I pretty much only watch old reruns of The West Wing” (which is true, but I was trying to throw him off).
Him (still aghast): “You gotta watch it! There’s a dude named Hurley that looks just like you!”
This is the kiss of death. I know this, because people tell me all the time that I look “just like” someone famous. Chris Farley. John Candy. Jared (pre-Subway). John Popper from Blues Traveler (pre-stomach stapling). The only thing these guys have in common—and the only thing they have in common with me—is that they’re fat dudes.
Which is fine. I know I’m fat, and I’m not sensitive about it. But I do not look anything like Jorge Garcia (for starters, I at least tweeze my unibrow). I don’t look like Chris Farley. Or John Goodman. Or Kenan Thompson. Just because we’ve all breached three hundred pounds doesn’t mean we even bear a passing resemblance to each other—not any more so than Emmanuel Lewis looks like Jason “Wee Man” Acuna.
But apparently, I look like Hurley. To the old dude at the Camden pub, anyway. Now in real life I’d like to think—and people who know me well would probably agree—that I don’t look like this guy at all. But for now, while Jorge Garcia rides his wave of fame from Lost, I’ll be the guy who sort of looks like him. You know, being fat and all.
But good for Hurley. Good for all the famous fat dudes. Good for Kirstie Alley, and Fat Actress, even though I can’t figure out how you can have a “hit show” based upon the premise of being overweight when you’re also on Jenny Craig commercials talking about how you’re losing it. But no matter, fat is in—unless you’re losing it, which is also in—so all the better for me.
What the world needs is a ridiculously handsome, ridiculously fat actor to rise to stardom, so I can start comparing myself to him.
April 15, 2005
Anyone reading this happen to know when the MTA light rail stop at Woodberry will be re-opening? I can practically throw rocks at it from our office, and I never see construction. I’d like to get on the damn thing already.
Update: Thanks to the anonymous e-mailer who let me know that the Woodberry stop is set to re-open in Spring 2006. Jesus. I hope my tipster is being conservative.
April 14, 2005
I knew that there were some real problems afoot when my new Comcast “High Speed Internet” service couldn’t seem to stay connected to the Internet for more than 24 hours at a time. In fact, in the week and a half that I’ve had it, it’s been out five times for more than an hour—and that’s just what I know of. So I suppose that, when I called tonight to cancel my service after signing up for Verizon DSL, I shouldn’t have been surprised when the friendly customer service rep informed me that the cancellation department was experiencing heavy call volume, and wouldn’t be able to take my “disconnection order” at this time.
Memo to ISPs: When so many of your customers are canceling at once that you’re not logistically capable of handling all of them, it might be time to really do something about your quality of service. Maybe.
Update Friday 4.15.05: Well, at least I’m in good company. But not for long, fortunately, as my DSL starter kit arrived while I was at work today. Just gotta wait for Verizon to turn me on, and my worries—at least these particular worries—are over.
