The Daily Derenger

11/29/2002

Thanksgiving has come and gone. I'd like to take this time to reflect on those things that I am most thankful for, in no particular order. (Check out my journal to read about how I spent my Thanksgiving.)

Let's get it right out of the way. I'm thankful for all my friends and family who are alive and healthy. Along the years, some have died while others aren't all that healthy. Nonetheless, I'm thankful for the time I've had to spend with my loved ones and look forward to many more good times down the road.

Now on to the bizarre off-color things.

I'm thankful for ...

ESPN. Its shows SportsCenter and Pardon The Interruption just to name a few. How I dread the hotels without this majestic channel.

The word gazeebo. It's always great to say and now I've challenged myself to write a joke with 'gazeebo' in it.

Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies. Whether it's the big ones or the regular kind, there are exquisite. Especially when soft and fresh.

The colors black and gray. I seem to look good when I wear them.

The Chicago Cubs. Even though they've failed to win a playoff series in my life time, they've still given me a sport and a team to be passionate about.

The Chicago White Sox. They've given me a team to hate and fans to hate even more.

My Geo Prizm. She just went over 125,000 miles on turkey day and isn't showing any signs of throwing in the towel. We've been to many great places in our nearly 2-year relationship and have endured some rough times as well. Even though her muffler hangs a little low and her body is a bit dented, she's been there for me.

This Compaq Presario laptop computer. It's afforded me the opportunity to pass some otherwise boring times while also having provided an outlet to write and be creative. Helping out when the dating has been non-existent hasn't gone unappreciated either!

The Lifetime Network. How else would I be able to see every episode of The Golden Girls seven times?

Jack Daniel's. I've taken a liking to you in the last year as long as your friend Coca Cola is along side. Budweiser can be thanked as well when Jack's not around.

Stand-up comedy. What other profession allows you to consume the aforementioned while on the job. It's also given me the chance to make a staggering 13-grand this year? (Without the dollar sign and comma, it doesn't seem that pathetic.)

Electronic mail. I've had shows cancelled and scheduled withoutt having to pick up a phone or send a letter. I've also been ignored and not replied to on countless occasions which can be blamed for my occasional bouts with depression and lack of self-worth.

Low-rise jeans and the ladies who wear sexy underwear with them. Simply a 'thank you' will suffice here. Although I would like to thank those people who've failed to tell these ladies that their black, velvet -stringed thong is hanging out - you've kept the fantasies alive.

My total disregard for human decency. For some sick and twisted reason, I feel like I've accomplished something when someone cringes, moans or vomits at something I say or do. I find it more invigorating than helping an old lady down the stairs.

Cimemax. Your efficient, yet tasetful portrayal of soft-core pornography often goes unnoticed.

Men with toupees and other horrible hair pieces. You've made my decision to shave my head and wear it well appear ingenious.

The United States of America. I get paid to write and talk about this kind of stuff. What a great country!

So a belated Happy Thanksgiving, God Bless America and remember that Thursdays and Fridays are kareoke and Sunday brunch is $7.99 all-you-can-eat from 11 'til 3.

11/27/2002

All the cards have been counted. And the winner is ...

I have no idea. Like you, I will have to listen to the radio to find out. There's a better chance I will grow a full head of hair and be out of debt by day's end than there is that I will consciously listen for the verdict. Or maybe I will. After counting over a million entries and moving boxes filled with thousands more, the least I could do is find out what high school won the free show. And then show up and pull the plug midway through the show.

Welcome to the world of temping. Even the temps who counted the millions of entries for the "bring a band to my high school pep rally" radio contest don't know. Now why would such confidential, earth-shattering news be leaked to us? I don't know either. I left the building with the same uncertainty as the rest of Chicagoland.

By the way, the entries by local high schools needed to include the name of the school and "The Phrase That Pays" which was Q101 is over and my 50-year-old mom listens to the Mix. We had to look at cards reading that for the last 2 days. However, based on that phrase, you still have no idea what the contest-running station is, right? My point exactly.

Yesterday didn't invloved nearly the same amount of lifting as Monday did yet there was some to be done. Althought it wasn't comparable to the stuff you'd see on those World's Strongest Man shows, I'm still feeling the aftermath.

We got split up into groups since they wanted the final tally by the end of the day. More temps were called in and interns from throughout the building were chipped in as well. We counted and measured and rubber-banded and taped until we had no more.

At one point I mentioned that, having attended a catholic high school, I was surprised that some catholic high schools let their students enter the contest based on the music played by the station, 94.7 - The Zone. Some of the lyrics contained some less than catholic images and messages.

Now that's not to say that I have turned over a new leaf by any means. I just know how catholic high schools can be about sensoring the music played at school functions. It was a more than a valid point. And to this I got, as asked by a 23-year-old paid intern, "What year did you graduate high school?" "93," I replied. "There you have it. Times have changed, " he said.

Since most of the others counting and sorting were in the same age range as my interrogator, the comments got a laugh. Maybe times have changed - in other arenas. But I'm quite sure a song that includes the refrain "Yeah, she fuckin' hates me" won't be on the "per the request of Dean Sister Mary Frances'" list. Oh, the 'fuckin' is beeped out'? Well that is what Jesus would do. Now run along and find an Eminem song for our prom theme.

As the day wore on and theories on life's pursuits were bandied about, I suggested that we find the DJs responsible for coming up with the contest. Upon finding them and among other things, I thought it would be nice to simply open up a firing squad on them. I know this assignment was work that I freely accepted but it also reaffirmed my need to make something of myself. I saw doing such tedious, mindless work as only making myself nuts.

Did I really mean for a firing squad to be called in? Not likely. But a paid intern has to be concerned for his fellow employees as I again ruffled some 10-dollar-an-hour feathers.

The prophet who had earlier told me of the changing face of catholic high schools and their apparent acceptance of "bitches and hos as the lesbian queen and queen of the dance" chimed in on my suggestion.

The paraphrase went something like this: "Man, you shouldn't talk like that. If one of the execs or some other people walked by and heard you saying that stuff, it wouldn't be good."

This time I shrugged it off since the last debate fell on deaf ears. Besides, what wouldn't be good? Someone who got paid 32 grand a year hearing me say something jokingly outlandish? What was the worst thing that could happen? 94.7 wouldn't tune-in in my car or my card-sorting services wouldn't be needed any more? Heaven forbid.

I guess times have changed.

Have a great Thanksgiving! I have some family gatherings as well as a wedding to attend this weekend. Be sure to catch up on my holiday and matrimonial thoughts here at ShaveYourHead.com.

11/25/2002

I know that reading my Daily Derenger is at the top of your "Things To Do" list but this one has to be short and sweet. You see, like many of you and for the first time in many weeks, I worked today. Really I did. Woke up at 7a.m., ate breakfast, and got on the train around 8:30. In short, it sucked. And that's coming from a guy who usually works 30 minutes a day while drinking a beer and talking about sex.

I wasn't sure what today's temp assignment would have in store other than sorting some mail-in post cards. Let me fill you in. There is a Chicago radio station running a promotion with the local high schools. Which ever school fills out and mails in the most cards wins. Wins what you ask? A special, live performance by a band. Which band you ask? New Found Glory. That's right and that's the name of the band. It took me until 2 hours into the job to even know their name. And 14 hours later, I could kill them.

Not only had I never heard of the band, I hadn't heard of some of the high schools. We had boxes on top of boxes and then some more boxes. There's no exaggeration when I say there are millions of entries, most of which we haven't even counted yet.

The influx of entries wasn't really expected. I guess most of these students come from schools that don't have much else to do. One school had almost 300,000 entries which is impressive AND pathetic for a school with maybe 6,000 students. They actaully took time out from days of learning to do this. Absurd. Unless those detention-ridden kids filled them out. Hell, I served many a detention and would've killed to spend the time doing something, anything other than stare at the back of someone's head for an hour.

Some perks of the gig: I get to work with mostly young, female college grads and can wear jeans. I never thought I'd be 27 and stoked to have a job wearing jeans while slaving for 10 bucks an hour. Such a job allows for much conversation and getting to know one another. Most of the ladies are well traveled and ambitious. The economy sucks and they are stuck in the rat race with guys like me. Whatever the case and however long this lasts, the material is endless.

Time for bed as another day of sorting, lifting and rubber-banding awaits. I may go swallow some Drano to avoid it. Check back to see if Drano killed me. If not, I'm at least gonna send a vat of it to the band with my sincerest thanks. And pictures of my paper cuts.

11/25/2002

I've been involved in some non-productive days but Sunday may have taken the cake. I awoke at noon fully aware that the Bears were on. That wasn't enticing enough to wake me up though. I rolled back over and slept for another 15 minutes.

The game was actually a pretty good one which saw us, the Bears, prevail. I guess I say "us" because I'm a fan and from the Chicago area. Had it been the White Sox, also from Chicago, I would wish them misery and failure for all eternity. We'll save that for the spring.

Professional football takes so much of a priority on Sundays that I don't know why some television channels even air anything at all. Fox Sports showed a boxing match between a couple of no-name guys who would otherwise be short-order cooks. ESPN and ESPN 2 realized that nobody would watch them either and threw on women's college basketball, something I would only consciously watch if the players were topless. Or maybe if they had thongs in full exposure as part of their uniforms. And if they made-out during free throw attempts.

I was surprised how many people were even at the games in question. Maybe they were students getting extra credit. Whatever the case, I'll take solace in the mere chance that the NFL football games were being recorded at home other.

Even the Spanish channel surrendered to the powerful television mogul that is the NFL. While the Bears were battling the Lions, the Spanish network showed Gremlins 2. The English version of the original was okay. But a sequel? And then airing it in a Spanish network? I'm quite certain our southern neighbors now think even less of us. And wasn't Jackie Mason in Caddy Shack 2 bad enough. You would've thought Gizmo learned from that atrocity.

So after I switched from the Bears' game to the Packers enjoyable debacle, I was plum tuckered out - I needed a nap. That was another 2 hours of nothingness. It was then around 6p.m. and time for dinner of some sorts. Frozen hot pockets did the trick as I was looking for something that would involve as little effort as possible.

Now it's time for bed, yet again, as a 3-day span of temping awaits. This job consists of sifting through mail at some downtown Chicago office. Rest assured, you'll be able to read all about my first day in tomorrow's installment of the Daily Derenger.