Momnesia

So right now I was just entering yet another venue into the painfully mind-numbing exercise in torture that is my publication's calendar of events when I got to the part where it asks for the venue phone number. Does "Downtown North Augusta" need a telephone number? I so wanted to run out to my car, drive over the 13th Street bridge, find a payphone and get the number, just to post it in the list of venues and see if anyone calls it.

But I didn't.

You know it's a good thing that people take the responsibilities of the news media seriously, or we'd be having you all call Bush's Baked Beans instead of the White House. That dog would probably make more sense.

Yes, Augusta: You must have an iron gate to protect your plywood. It is essential.

Ryan Clark, one of the victims of Monday’s shootings, is a native of the Augusta, GA area. The elementary school where Ryan Clark’s mother works is collecting donations to assist her with traveling to Virginia and making arrangements for her son’s body. If you would like to make a contribution, you can send your donation to the following address:

Ryan Clark Memorial Fund
c/o Georgia Bank and Trust
409 Fury’s Ferry Road
Martinez, GA 30907

It's JOE WHITE in the year Nineteen Eighty Jean Claude van Damme!

This is the Metro Spirit's wonderful former intern, Allegra Yealy, in her first art showing at the Gertrude Herbert Institute of Art. She did some beautiful photos of New Mexico in a silver gelatin print. We're hoping that she'll do some stuff for us from Athens next year, when she attends the University of Georgia.




This is a bust (har har) done by Natalie Logue, the sister of a friend of mine. It's a really beautiful piece with a crackled glaze on the outside and really smooth, graceful lines. It looks alternately strong and sturdy, and yet delicate and fragile. I don't know what she's going for with it, but I loved it like crazy.




This is another piece by Natalie. It evokes 1900 Paris, old advertisements for vermouth and absinthe, and Toulouse Latrec all at once. Lovely texture and color and I wanted to steal it off the wall. But I didn't. I did offer to buy it, but she wouldn't set a price. I hope she'll call me in a few days.


This show will run through the end of April at the Gertrude Herbert Institute of Art. There are some wonderful pieces in the show, some that are just fun, and some that - of course - scream "STUDENT ART!" But it's an interesting show. Look for the painting over the fireplace. I love it, too, but as I am not an artist, my photo of it looked like poop. Visit ghia.org.

I don't know if anyone else does this, but I'm entered into all kinds of rewards systems. There's the VISA Rewards, the My Points system, the Zoom Panel surveys, the Buzz Agent membership. They're useful. They've bought gifts for loved ones, the crib for our daughter, various articles of clothing and gift cards and what-not. But they most insidious one is the mycokerewards program. Every time you open a cap, you have to go to the reward site and enter in a 9-digit number. it's been kind of frustrating, and I'm still NOWHERE CLOSE to getting anything, unless I want some digital furniture in a digital room that I create in a digital environment on the same website, a la The Sims.

Nope. I want some real stuff right here in my real environement, a la Real Freaking Life. (sigh) I may be at this another year before I can cash anything in.

"Isn't he the most handsome man? I mean, I'm not gay or nothin' but..." He gestures to a co-worker.
I appraise him. "I guess I've just never been attracted to him because he talks."

A local artist is in the office talking to an employee I shall name "Neckbeard the Pirate."

"Man, I'm hung over," artist man says.
"I know. Your eyes are so red you're making me stoned. What did you do last night?"
"I just drank a lot of brown liquor."
"Brown liquor... man, I miss it. But it gives me the poos."

I am moonlighting on masters week to make a few extra bucks for us and to also fund my tank project out at Pendleton King Park. At first, I thought, all the locals will be gone and since I am on radio, no one knows what I look like anyway, so it won't be a problem.

The only problem with pairing the two jobs is that well meaning listeners love to engage you in conversation about what Rush said, or what Austin said, or some news report they heard. That is never a problem unless you are in a busy serving job in a restaurant and have hungry mouths to feed. You can't sit back and chit chat about what is on the radio.

First table I get goes like this-

Me: Hi, my name is Scott blah blah, what can I get you to drink?
Customer to wife: Honey? Do you know who this is?
Wife: No.
Customer: He's Austin's younger brother!
Wife: Oh, you work at WGAC? Pleased to meet you.

OK, I am thinking they saw me out reporting something and recognized me, so no problem.

Second table goes like this-

Me: Hi, my name is Scott blah, blah, what can I get you to drink.
Customer: Is this some kind of joke?
Me: I'm sorry, I don't understand.
Customer: Oh, I get it. Are you guys doing some kind of celebrity waiter thing?

WHAT?
Okay, first of all, anyone who puts the word "celebrity" in front of the name of someone who needs to moonlight in a restaurant to pay for their family vacation is...well I digress.

I am nevertheless stunned. Why are all these people recognizing me? I am supposed to be the faceless voice that travels over the air. Then it dawns on me.

We have not had cable in years. We just don't watch that much tv. I have been sitting in on Austin's Comcast show for the past few months. I had completely forgot that the show airs like 86 times a week...and it is "on demand" for true die hards. Apparently lots and lots of people watch the damn show. Normally, I would be saying "COOL!" This weekend, I am saying "SHIT!!"

Oh, God, this weekend may turn out to be really interesting.

Scott

A.C. is reading my last blog entry.
"You're really mad at me, aren't you?" she asks.
"No. No... a little."
She laughs.
"You're sending a heathen to talk to a church crowd," I whine.
"I know! Isn't that funny?!"

No.

I just agreed to speak to a church crowd of 250 about the media.
"You'll be fine," A.C. says. "And you get a free lunch."
"What?! Who's ordering lunch?" C.P. perks up from his hole in the corner. A.W. chuckles.
"No one. It's only 10 a.m., C.P."

"So you didn't get arrested?" B.H. asks C.P.
"No. Things changed."
"What changed?"
"I fucked up... again and again and again."
"So you didn't play the..." hums circus song and I chime in: "doo-doo-doodahdoodahdoo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doodahdoodahdoo-doo-doo-doo..."
"It actually plays that song," B.H. says.
"What? Really?" I ask.
"I told you it played the circus song," she says.
"You said it played A circus song. You didn't say it played THAT circus song," I protest.
"Geez, how many circus songs do you know?" A.W. weighs in.
"Lots. I work here."

We have fielded more phone calls about the revamped calendar and movie listings than any else in the redesigned newspaper. It's fine - we don't mind. We understand that change is hard for people. They develop habits of information gathering, and they have to find a new approach. I've explained and assisted everyone about these issues as responsibly as possible. Apparently, I've been wasting my time.

Amy sits down chuckling.
"You should take a lesson in customer service from Bob," she says.
"Why?"
"He just fielded a phone call about the movie listings. This woman called in and said, 'I'm calling to request that you put the movie times back in the paper.' Bob said, 'Okay, no problem!'"
I am aghast. It never crossed my mind to lie.
"But she's going to call back next week when they're not in there!"
"Yeah, he says he's going to blame it on Ryan."

Don't you hate it when you get all excited about your lunch and it turns out sucky? Here is a list of things that sucked about our lunch:

1. "Salad" composed of one (1) slice of iceburg lettuce, and three cherry tomato halves.

2. "Sweet Potato Fries" included sweet potato strings that may once have been fried, but not for long and not in the recent past. R.D. said "They're like old person fries. All wrinkly and slimy." Um, okay. We bathe the old people in our family, Ryan.

3. "Moroccan Chutney Meatballs with CousCous" included meatballs that were not so much Moroccan as they were of dubious international origins. And the "chutney" was tomato chutney. That's not freaking chutney. That's salsa.

4. The couscous was plain. PLAIN! Why serve me plain pasta beads?!

5. Reminds me of a story: apparently, "couscous" means "vagina" (or, rather, the "p" word for it) in Persian or Farsi. A young Iranian student was horrified when I used the term one day until I described what it was I was talking about. Couscous is apparently not served in Iranian cuisine.

6. Anyway...

7. "Key Lime Parfait" was $6 for a dessert that was 90% cream, 10% key lime flavored pudding, and topped with graham cracker crumbs. Lllllaaaaaaaame!

8. The bread sticks were undercooked phyllo dough twists that had spices I could not determine. Might have been basil. Just couldn't tell.

So, to sum up, lunch was an overpriced load of crap. Thanks, [Joe is a Turd]!

C.P.: "I'm just going to start announcing everything I'm doing at that exact second."

Me: "Yay! And I'll blog along. It'll be like "A Day in the Life of Intrepid Reporter Corey Pein Who is, at This Very Minute, Typing an E-mail to His Mom, and Now He is Sending it - WILL SHE RECEIVE IT? We'll Let You Know When the Read Receipt Comes in..." and so on.

C.P.: "Good god!"

I've never been to Europe - heck, I've never been out of the country. But traveling is a really big deal to me. I was born with a wanderlust that has never died, and when Emerson is older we'll be dragging her all over the place, I'm sure. We're starting small, with a weekend camping trip in the mountains in a few weeks. We'll work her up to more in the future.

While I love camping, what I really love is hotel sheets and room service. There's a reason I didn't want to leave the hospital after Emerson was born. Fresh sheets upon request, food delivered practically right to my mouth, and peace and quiet. But hotels, of course, have much better food. What I also love is getting my money's worth. So, a little tip for my readers - especially the international ones - is to keep an eye on Hotel Club News. Talk about insider information! It's almost as good a peek into the hotel industry as Waiter Rant is on the food and beverage industry.

Honesty, insider information, industry news, travel specials and time-sensitive deals, along with tips and secrets of getting the best service for your stay are the hallmarks of this blog. They even highlight interesting upcoming events so that when you get bitten by the travel bug but don't know where you want to go, you can choose by event instead of by destination. And isn't that better than the cruise-ship method of scheduling the hell out of every minute of your life? A little spontaneity really spices up life. That's why my 2-year-old and I had a sword fight this morning with the rods that open and close our blinds. What are those things called?

Anyway, she totally kicked my butt. My right pointer knuckle is bruised and swollen. Hard to lose to a 2-year-old. But I did.

But it's great to travel with them. Yes, they get grumpy. Yes, they get nervous from unfamiliar surroundings. But they also get more excitement out of every day than anyone over the age of 12 can even try to muster. She keeps me going until I collapse, utterly unaware that I am wearing myself out because I'm too busy having fun! And getting swollen knuckles. Ouch.

Emerson's favorite phrase is "Come on, Mama!" She's always on the go, and keeps me moving, too. We'll keep her moving to new places with exciting new experiences over the next few years. I'm glad there are resources like Hotel Club News to use. God bless the Internet. Those last-minute specials are really great!