Reason #2,971 Why I Love Sports Talk Radio

Tuesday, July 25, 6:21pm

Stugotz: …at least, that’s the word out of Dolphins camp. Anyhow, we’ve still got our crappy e-mail contest on – combine the name of an athlete with the name of a restaurant and e-mail it to us at cantstanddan@790theticket.com, and you could win two Marlins tickets. When we return, we’ll replay the interv

Dan Le Batard: (interrupts) That’s second prize. First prize is no Marlins tickets.

Legitimate Theater

As I have mentioned here before, at present stage of life, I am not a movie person. I used to be, way back, but I have…changed. (It would be wrong and unfair to use the word “outgrown”.) I see maybe five movies a year in the theater, and maybe a dozen more via DVD; whereas I used to see one a week, and rent movies more often than that. I haven’t cared for popcorn since I barfed up a bucket of it after “Wargames”. I have not considered lining up for a special midnight screening in more than fifteen years. I haven’t watched the Oscars, which I used to watch fairly religiously, since the angry mob bounced David Letterman out the back door. And, while I once closely monitored upcoming films and rumors of same, I no longer do a lot of looking forward to that which is Coming Soon.

But sometimes the magic returns.

(By the way, guess what I last lined up to see a midnight screening of, sixteen years ago?)

Girl Interrupted

Just overheard from the next room:

“Can you believe this?!? Turbo Tax didn’t pay our fucking taxes! I did them, and they told me they were done – it says right here “Your 2005 taxes have been filed” and the IRS doesn’t fucking have them. Not the return or all the money! TURBO TAX TOLD ME THEY WERE DONE! I SPENT FUCKING HOURS ON THOSE! IT WAS A SIMPLE THING TO JUST SEND IN THE TAXES! THEY SCREWED IT UP AND NOW I HAVE TO LOOK AT THE STUPID IRS WEBSITE AND FIND THE FUCKING PHONE NUMBER AND SIT ON HOLD FOR AN HOUR AND ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Look at the puppy! Oh!”

Cute Overload: The Internet Explorer Start Page equivalent of half a white valium.

We're Broken The Back Of The Off-Season

“Around the soft, green swelling mound
We scooped the earth away,
And buried deep the crocus-bulbs
Against a coming day.
“These roots are dry, and brown, and sere;
Why plant them here?” he said,
“To leave them, all the winter long,
So desolate and dead.”

“Dear child, within each sere dead form
There sleeps a living flower,
And angel-like it shall arise
In spring’s returning hour.”
Ah, deeper down — cold, dark, and chill —
We buried our heart’s flower,
But angel-like shall he arise
In spring’s immortal hour.”

The Crocus (excerpt)
Harriet Beecher Stowe

Someone Had To Be Miranda

You scored as Miranda. You are Miranda Hobbs. You are feisty and do not take crap off anyone. Sarcasm and Cynicism come naturally to you. But behind all those walls is someone who loves her family and friends and would do anything for the people she loved.

Miranda

92%

Mr Big

67%

Samantha Jones

67%

Carrie

58%

Steve Brady

58%

Stanford Blatch

58%

Aidan Shaw

50%

Smith

50%

Harry Goldenblatt

42%

Charlotte York

33%

Which Sex and the City Character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

¿Por qué me siento como un asshole cuando intento hablar español?

This is probably the KeysCast that I am most disappointed never aired:

“Down here in the Keys, it behooves a person to speak Spanish. This is true in much of Florida, with the exception of South Beach, where it was obviously a lot more important to speak Russian. But I only visited South Beach. I live in the Keys. So I must speak some Spanish. And there are tres reasons why this is not going well:

Reason number one: I am an adult person of reasonable intelligence, and I figured, when I decided to move, that learning Spanish would be no problemo, because I already spoke halfway-decent French. And I was right. That I didn’t speak Spanish when I got here presented no problem, What presented a problem is that I do speak halfway decent French. So what happens is that I go into the Winn-Dixie, where, as I have mentioned on my blog, they have terrific café con leches And I have my part memorized: I say, “Dos café con leches, no azucar, por favor.” And the coffee-lady says “Hokay.” And I say “Gracias.” And that works great. But when I go in and say “Dos café con leches, no azucar, por favor”, and she says “No cafes – machine no working” then I am lost, and get them confused, and start speaking Spench. It’s a terrible trilingual pidgin, like “Oh, um, then, uh, por favor, deux regular cafes. Au lait. Comprendez-vous ‘regular’? No-no, no Cubano. Reg-you-lar. Con ‘Sweet and low’ Beaucoup”. I’m like Sean Penn – I am a tremendous jerk without memorized lines.

Reason number two: I tend to get caught up in details. Let’s go back to the previous example. If I was working at a coffeeshop in Chicago, and someone came in and ordered “Two coffee with milks and sugars”, I’d probably figure it out. But me, I obsessed for days over whether it was “dos café con leches” or “dos cafes con leche”. I tried to ask, but when I said “Is it “dos café con leches” ou “dos cafes con leche” the woman looked at me sympathetically and said “Jes, two coffees.”

Reason number 3: In my deepest heart of hearts, I believe that, when speaking Spanish to people who already speak Spanish, I sound like a complete idiot. That when I have walked away from the conversation, the people who have listened to me butcher their native tongue stop stifling their giggles and begin doing unkind impressions of me. Or worse, that they are annoyed by my murderous pronunciations and inadvertent substitutions of French articles, and I will catch them rolling their eyes when next I approach.

But I’m trying to get over it. So I’ve learned some basic Spanish phrases, useful in the Keys, which I will, in the interest of public service, now teach to you:

“Which way is Duval Street?”

“Donde esta Duval Street?”

“Margarita, with salt, please.”

“Margarita con sal, por favor.”

“I’m being tailgated again.”

“El coche está demasiado cercano otra vez.”

“At home it’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.”

“En el país, se congelan las bolas de mi mono.”

“You want me to pay how much for this tiny fucking house?”

“¿Usted quisiera que pagara cuánto para esta casa de mierda minúscula? Ay caramba!”

“Thanks for listening! See you next week!”

“¡Gracias por escuchar! ¡Hasta la vista!”

Good Lord 'N' Butter

Thanks to the brilliant Bill Bryson, my mind’s eye sees my informational memory as a sort of giant file of index cards, there to be riffled through on a need-to-know basis. For example, twelve hours ago one of my mental notecards looked like this:

External Hard Drive
What it is: A storage device that plugs into a variety of machines.
Useful to me because: It stores giant video files, pictures, music, freeing up laptop memory. Also facilitiates transmission of same files from one machine to another.
Recommended by: Nate
Trivia: Has 120 times more memory than my first real computer, bought brand spanking new in 1997.

But I just finished editing that card, and now it looks like this:

External Hard Drive
What it is: A storage device that plugs into a variety of machines.
Useful to me because: It stores giant video files, pictures, music, freeing up laptop memory. Also facilitiates transmission of same files from one machine to another.
Recommended by: Nate
Trivia: Has 120 times more memory than my first real computer, bought brand spanking new in 1997.
Under the x-ray at Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport, it looks like: A handgun.

It was an exciting fifteen minutes.