One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

Twice a year, during the ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I atone for an ungodly number of sins committed in the last year and reflect on the events of the last 12 months. There's also a prayer for those in need of healing, but for the last few years I've spent most of that time clearing my mind and enjoying the bubble of quiet around me. The sound of silence can be intoxicating.

I've been beyond fortunate during the prayer for health as of late. Mindnumbing events have been few and far between. My life in a vacuum where bad things don't happen often and prayers aren't necessary has magically trotted along, obstacle free.  No GPS route recalculating necessary.

Until this one.  My catalog of those in need of healing had a waiting list and even I was on it. This was a rough year for me.

It sucks when your immediate family isn't running on all cylinders.

Around the start of 5770 (September 2009 for the Gregorian calendar followers), I separated from my wife. Asking for a divorce was the hardest, most difficult thing I've had to do. Great times were had over the years, but I had to do it.

In July of this year, I was hit with a stunningly fast double whammy. First, my father was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Then, my sister was robbed in broad daylight in a populated area and received a black eye and unconsciousness for being kind enough to give directions when the (quickly apprehended and currently jailed) POS asked.  There was a lot on my plate that even I couldn't digest in one sitting.

It sucks having immediate family members to keep in mind during prayers of healing. I'm not used to it and I don't want to be. I've thought of grandparents, a friend or two, and a pet, but not my dad and sister. What happened to my cocoon of normalcy?

Damn skippy this had better be a sweeter year!

I turned 30, blinked, and my innocence was lost. Suburbia childhood, protected from bad people and bad events, home alarm system to boot, was summarily eviscerated. The grass is brown on the other side. Bad stuff happens, but not to my inner circle.  I'll wakeup soon enough.

Yet, running back to Never Neverland is not the answer. Running around obstacles only ignores problems and gives them time to grow larger. Bursting through challenges is the only way to go from here on out. My family has given me the tools to take house money even when the game seems rigged.

It started small, but I worked through the year's events. I saw a therapist a few times to get my mental bearings and learn more about myself. I sent get well cards. I bought my sister her favorite stuffed animal, Tigger, to of course help her bounce back. I started dating the maker of the world's only Quad Pie, who will be referred to in this blog as QP from here forward.  Things are already working themselves out.

You have to believe that all of us land on our tails and bounce right back.

My dad starts treatment next month with bursts of radiation 20 days in a row for his very treatable cancer and my sister has finished her physical recovery as bubbly as ever.  With the prayer for healing said for my inner sanctum and personal reflection finished to start 5771, I realize that shit happens and we all have to deal with it.  It stinks, but even manure brings nature to life.

NOTM: Man Fails to Receive Google Alerts About Himself for Another Week

Gaithersburg, MD - While trying to figure out if any of the clearance bath rugs were actually worth purchasing at the Target in the Rio, area resident Morris Herlis glanced at his Blackberry and fell into a solemn stupor.

He was a failure in life for yet another week.

An artist's Minesweeper rendition of Morris Herlis' failure to exist in Google's servers.

"I just don't get it," he said.  "Why am I not recognized by the greatest popularity measurement stick?"  Morris was referring to Google's search engine.  He created Google Alerts for any mention of his name on the web, in the news, and in image captions.  "I do all sort of boolean search techniques based on my name and never even get a nod of existence in this world.  What do I have to do, land an airplane on the Hudson River?"

A pretty drastic way to set off Google Alerts about yourself.

Morris admitted to NOTM that he does not do much to increase his presence on the web outside of liking his aunt's vacation pictures on Facebook and ordering tube socks on Amazon.com.

"At least Facebook recognizes that I like things, sometimes other people like the pictures too so they sort of see me.  I'm not invincible ya know.  Or is it invisible?  I never keep those straight.  Whatever Wonder Woman is, that's me.  No wait that didn't come out right."  Morris probably meant her airplane.

How does Wonder Woman find her invisible plane?  Why use it if she's not invisible too?

NOTM visited Google's corporate office website in Mountain View, California.  Unfortunately, the travel budget did not allow for an in-person visit to see if that forwarded email of Google's office is legit.

Nevertheless, NOTM held an in-depth interview with Beth Steinkatz, senior global communications director for international human branding applications analysis for Montgomery County (MD) and Guam, about Morris' plight.

"I don't know who you're talking about," she said.

Beth Steinkatz (not pictured) did not appreciate NOTM's hard, investigative reporting about Google's practices.

After speaking with Morris, he moped along toward the front of the store, knowing that another seven suns had set without an Internet packet mentioning his name; that was until he reached the Target cashier.  

After giving the unnervingly always cheerful red polo-shirted employee his license to verity his credit card payment, he heard, "thanks Mr. Herlis and have a good day."

NOTM: Man avoids geese $h!t on the sidewalk

Shady Grove Metro Station - For the first time this summer, area resident Morris Herlis made it from his house to the Shady Grove Metro station without getting Canadian geese $h!t on his shoes.  Morris was overwhelmed when NOTM caught up to him on the Metro platform during another delayed red line train departure.

"It's really hard to put into words what I'm feeling right now," Morris said.  "This is just an epic moment for me and the generations of walkers who came before me, struggling to keep their soles free of green gunk.  On the other hand, I guess speaking to you means that putting the moment into words isn't as hard as I made it out to be a few seconds ago.  My bad.  What was your question again?"

Few have the will to battle this disgusting path.

Witnesses said that Morris triumphantly raised his arms when he reached the station's turnstiles and its geese free zone.  Geese frequent the Shady Grove Station property and surrounding sidewalks, leaving walkers a challenging course to avoid geese droppings.  A clean walk is unheard of.

Beth Steinkatz saw Morris' celebration unfold.  "I had just picked up my copy of the Express when this guy starts hootin' and hollerin' that he was 'finally $h!t free' so I just ignored him like the other crazies.  I figured he was on some hallucinogenic trip.  I mean, who yells that they're 'free of $h!t?'  For all I know he was celebrating a good bowel movement.  Now you might understand why it was weird."

The next generation on their way to making another sloppy sidewalk.

Morris' daily one-mile walk to the station is full of geese gifting peril.  From the moment he reaches Redland Road, the cleanliness of his shoe bottoms is at risk.  "[The geese] think nothing of using my sidewalk for a toilet.  I bet they wouldn't like it if I took a dump in their swimming holes," Morris said before realizing that their swimming holes are also sources for his drinking water.

Morris zigged and zagged around the marks.  "Man, I tell you, I was highstepping my way like a Plinko chip.  I ignored bicyclists passing me, baby strollers in the opposite direction, and some old lady on the ground who come to think of it might have been my neighbor with the bad hip."

 

A Plinko chip's movement is based on avoiding geese droppings on sidewalks.

Close to his goal, he was confronted by a gaggle of geese eating grass along "his" sidewalk.  Undeterred and brazenly determined, Morris flapped his arms and mocked the geese with a few "Ka-ka" calls.  The geese ignored his incendiary acting and made sure that his walk home would be much more difficult.  "I was tired, but I had to keep going; I wasn't gonna give up like a Nick Arcade contestant when my movements weren't recognized.  Someone has to know what I'm talking about."

These kids don't get frustrated in Nick Arcade.

A minute later Morris had made it to the station turnstiles, devoid of Canadian geese and their presents.  Unfortunately for Morris, while he was doing a celebratory spin, he stepped in a puddle and soaked his shoes, socks, and pant cuffs.  Arriving at work with clean soles had to wait.

News of the Minutiae (NOTM): Man Empties Dishwasher In Record Time

Rockville, MD - Area resident Morris Herlis nearly fainted in exhaustion after a perfect performance putting away his dishes, cups, utensils, and bowls on Sunday night.

At 9:12 p.m., after devouring a Foreman grilled steak and microwaved can of corn, Morris found no room to jam his plate into a sink already full of cutlery chaos.  The dishes were piling up and he had to do something.  Something as drastic, life-threatening, and utterly unimpressive as emptying the dishwasher.

In 1956, only four percent of homes had dishwashers.

Morris said, "I just wanted to get it done and well, I concluded that if I moved quickly and put things away faster, it would take less time. Neat concept, right? Kind of like pulling a band-aid off quickly is easier than pealing it away, hair by painful hair."

Morris ripped his Band-Aid with the speed of a sprinter and didn't break anything, displaying the grace of a dancer he's never been confused for. "I was moving fast," he said, "like that Usain Bolt fella and moving like one those people on Dancing With The Stars; one of the ones that isn't like Buzz Aldrin of course."

One way to pre-rinse your plates.

Morris unhinged the dishwasher door and dove right in, ignoring the blast of steam in his face. He wasn't going to be stopped, even when hot cycle temps reach 160 degrees F. 2nd-degree burns be damned. 

In the blink of an eye, plates, cups, and bowls were evacuated to their cabinet shelves.  Morris considered throwing the plates like frisbees, but didn't want to make the jump from amateur to all-madden too soon.  That, and square plates with dried ketchup, because he doesn't pre-wash, don't fly well.

Awwww, so cute!

Next, he grabbed handfuls of utensils, some of which weren't handle side up.  He learned that skin and serrated knife blades don't mix.  Sure, he got blood on some formerly clean forks, spoons, and his one spork from the Maryland House's Roy Rogers, but you also don't stop Baryshnikov to tell him his split-sole ballet shoe is untied either.

At 9:15 his performance began.  1 minute, 48 seconds later the dishwasher door was closed and a man celebrated his fastest dishwasher emptying ever in a blog.

I Ate The Last Non-Oil-Covered Oysters In New Orleans

I made my first visit to New Orleans last month for work and all I have to show for it are pictures of food, food, Bourbon Street, and more food. So please enjoy and salivate.

I expected to be overwhelmed with Saints championship signs, but I only saw this little poster by baggage claim.

So that's what the French Quarter looks like without the vomiting, public urination, and beads.

Bourbon Street was either overrated or I'm just getting older. It wasn't much other than trashy blocks of tourists who are there to make the scene they've heard about. A self-fulfilling night to be sure.

Every bar said it had the strongest drinks in the area, but it seemed like all drinks were wayyyyy watered down. I did what I could to fulfill the scene, but it shouldn't have been impossible to do on a Thursday night.

If you weren't drunk enough last night, here's a bar in the mall serving hurricanes all day.

New Orleans' homecooking is pretty simple…just add shellfish to rice and beans with a little spice. It was tasty, but I wasn't wowed.

Check it out! Who knew you could keep Kosher in this land of oysters, shrimp, crawfish, and crabs.

I tried some Pralines because that's what Wikipedia suggested I do. They were just okay, even all 6 flavors I tried from Southern Candymakers.

Lots of beads and masks to be found.

Chris Paul was much taller in person than I ever expected.

Mmmmm, oysters at Acme Oyster House, also known as the best meal during the four days I was in town. Might be the final Louisiana oysters for a long time.

The charbroiled oysters were spectacular. Finally a meal with some real flavor.

The two dozen oysters I ate weren't anywhere close to getting me on this board. I'd have to eat 15 dozen. The record is held by IFOCE Sonya Thomas who downed 52 dozen in a little over 10 minutes.

The shortest escalator I've ever seen…

…that is until I saw a picture of this one in the Garden State Plaza Mall in my NJ neck of the woods.

I swung by Mothers for a 50/50 po'boy – ½ fried oysters and ½ fried shrimp. It was good, but again, it only tasted how I expected it to taste. There are no surprises with New Orleans cooking.

A steamboat on the Mississippi? Who knew.

That tugboat's heading straight for that shark fin!

A sole saxophonist playing along the Mississippi's Riverwalk.

Walking a mile in the heat and humidity to eat Café' du Monde was worth it.

I didn't know what a beignet was before this trip, but I sure am happy that I do now.

Café du Monde's food offerings consist of the fried dough and powdered sugar concoctions. I had no trouble finishing them off.

A final sunrise on the mighty Mississippi before heading home.

Rocking the East Coast

After a breezy 3.5-hour drive a week ago, I was transported from the cozy confines of MoCo to the real, "The City." I played tourist during the day and surprised my dad for his 65th (!) birthday at night, before visiting Philly for brunch with a friend from college. It was a whirlwind 36 hours, but hot damn it was worth it!

Somehow nobody's making eye contact with anybody else.

The new pedestrian walkway was much appreciated in Times Square. I still had to fend off five-year-olds who didn't know how to get out of the way. I stepped aside instead of getting hit in the groin.

Let's travel all the way to this city of great restaurants just to eat at the Olive Garden. Sadly, the place was packed.

Long live the TKTS booth! A haven for me, el Cheapo Depot, I landed orchestra seats to "Chicago."

Bianca Marroquin was awesome as Roxie. This prohibited video doesn't even do her justice.

Blasphemy! Who dares to advertise Canadian bagels in NYC when there's H&H, etc.??? This is the rarest of all things, a Tim Hortons this far south so of course I went inside.

Thought I must admit that the Tim Horton Timbits were better than Dunkin Donuts' munchkins.

What ever shall we call this park in the center of the city?

"The meeting isn't until three, but I always like to come a little early. This is where I do my haunts. Oh, look! [points to a Sbarro's] My favorite New York pizza place. I'm going to go get me a New York slice!" -- Michael Scott

Time for some legit NYC pizza. Broccoli on pizza was awesome.

Perfect! Go to Flash Dancers, now offering a sushi and sake bar. Nice warning above the entrance that warns about bed bugs. These are the things I notice.

The House of Brews was like every bar in midtown, an Irish bar with an Irish bartender and Irish customers. "That was a bloody yellow card!" was heard often.

A bike lane signal. At least bikers are safe in one Manhattan intersection. Just a few thousand more to go.

Just about as clean as you'll find for a food cart.

A great miracle happened at the Empire State Building...no significant lines.

It was really cold up that high, but it was sooooo worth it.

Tall buildings to the northwest.

Taller buildings to the north.

Tallest buildings to the northeast.


Don't drop your camera!


Your typical NYC street: school buses, taxis, livery cabs, tourist bus, luxury sedan from the NJ suburbs, and commuter bus from Connecticut.


Rolled to Philly for a hot minute the next day and enjoyed Rittenhouse Square.


I tossed a penny over my shoulder and wished for peace on earth. Yeah right!


Postcard weather made Philly look good.


I rocked some solid challah french toast with ricotta cheese and blackberry sauce at Marathon on the Square (the freshly squeezed OJ was not so solid). It looked like this except it for the whipped cream and ugly plate. I was stuffed completely for the drive back to Maryland.