Stu and Asha at our picnic at La Jolla Shores.
Jerome plays catch
Proof that my ear wax drops and eye drops really do look about the same
From about a month ago- We went to see the sand castles in Imperial Beach w/ Stu and Adrianne.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Sunday, August 13, 2006
I just read Nigel's zoo post, and I have the exact same feelings about the museums in Europe. Invariably, there are 50,000 people pressed up against the usher's rope in front of the Mona Lisa contorting their bodies to try to fit themselves and the painting into a snapshot. They all have the same attitude: "I've flown 5,000 miles to get here, and I'll be damned if I'm going home without proof that I set foot in front of the world's most famous painting". It is comical to enter places like the Sistine Chapel, and see the anguish on the tourist's faces when they're confronted the "no photographs" sign. Going through their minds: "Sheesh. If I had known I couldn't take pictures in the Sistine Chapel, I wouldn't have booked this vacation in the first place". As Marie just reminded me, Derek Harris reserved his place in the Pantheon of Needless Picture-Taking years ago when he took a picture of every single Rose Parade float on January 1, 1998. Adding to this feat is the fact that it required tons of film - the digial camera really hadn't been invented yet. If you're reading this Derek, you're a great guy - just a little shutter-happy.
This week, I heard 2 radio commercials back-to-back that caught my attention. One was from the California Assiciation of Realtors, and the other was from the Yellow Pages. Both industries attempt to make potential customers so afraid of not using their services that they will pay arbitrary sums of money for benefits that are debatable. Both are industries that are hopelessly inefficient, and may be completely undermined in the near future (or so I hope). The Yellow Pages are just silly. First, most people don't even use them anymore. Second, there are a few different companies out there that spend millions of dollars proclaiming that they are superior to the "other" phone book outfits. Then, they pepper my house with all manner of thick, ambulance-chaser-laden phone books. I will either toss them into the recycle, or use as booster seats. BTW - the only reason they advertise is so that they can comfort the unlucky businesses who purchased advertising in their pages. Consumers absolutely do not care, but if an advertiser hears "yellow book" and that's who they happen to use, it can certainly trigger warm fuzzies.
If the yellow pages are a minor annoyance, Realtors are like a disturbing infectious disease that has run totally out of control. Last year, Realtors hauled in $60 billion in commissions, while delivering only a fraction of that amount in value. They do this by preying on the fears of buyers and sellers, and operating a virtual cartel (I didn't arbitrarily apply that word "cartel" - it was used by the Consumer Federation of America). It is about this point in an anti-realtor rant that most people admit "there are some good realtors". While that may be true, it doesn't excuse the fact that on a (let's say) $500,000 deal, no 2 realtors in the world could contribute $30,000 in value, but that's how much they get paid. I'm rooting heavily for companies like Redfin, BuySide Realty, and BuySelf Realty. They may not do it, but somebody will surely visit creative destruction on this industry during the next 10-20 years.
This week, I heard 2 radio commercials back-to-back that caught my attention. One was from the California Assiciation of Realtors, and the other was from the Yellow Pages. Both industries attempt to make potential customers so afraid of not using their services that they will pay arbitrary sums of money for benefits that are debatable. Both are industries that are hopelessly inefficient, and may be completely undermined in the near future (or so I hope). The Yellow Pages are just silly. First, most people don't even use them anymore. Second, there are a few different companies out there that spend millions of dollars proclaiming that they are superior to the "other" phone book outfits. Then, they pepper my house with all manner of thick, ambulance-chaser-laden phone books. I will either toss them into the recycle, or use as booster seats. BTW - the only reason they advertise is so that they can comfort the unlucky businesses who purchased advertising in their pages. Consumers absolutely do not care, but if an advertiser hears "yellow book" and that's who they happen to use, it can certainly trigger warm fuzzies.
If the yellow pages are a minor annoyance, Realtors are like a disturbing infectious disease that has run totally out of control. Last year, Realtors hauled in $60 billion in commissions, while delivering only a fraction of that amount in value. They do this by preying on the fears of buyers and sellers, and operating a virtual cartel (I didn't arbitrarily apply that word "cartel" - it was used by the Consumer Federation of America). It is about this point in an anti-realtor rant that most people admit "there are some good realtors". While that may be true, it doesn't excuse the fact that on a (let's say) $500,000 deal, no 2 realtors in the world could contribute $30,000 in value, but that's how much they get paid. I'm rooting heavily for companies like Redfin, BuySide Realty, and BuySelf Realty. They may not do it, but somebody will surely visit creative destruction on this industry during the next 10-20 years.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
We bit the bullet and got California licenses this week. We were supposed to do this within 10 days of moving to the state, and let's just say it may have been a little longer than that. Our reason for procrastinating is obvious - going to the DMV is slightly less enjoyable than being fitted for orthodontia. At least the orthodontist give you straight teeth. The DMV gives you nothing but brusque, middle-aged ladies who have been jaded by centuries of working at the DMV. They seem to come from a parallel universe, and (recalling Dave Barry's opinion of lumberyard employees) probably scurry back out of the light at 5pm, only emerging from their underground abode when the building opens at 9 the next morning. I shouldn't say such things - one lady actually changed one of the answers on Marie's written driving exam so she could get a passing score (she didn't study), and we emerged from the building after 2 hours as the proud owners of 2 California licenses and a new registration for our van. In order to secure said items, we had to bring:
1. Checks (NO CREDIT CARDS!)
2. Old car registration
3. Proof of insurance
4. Old car title
5. Old Pennsylvania licenses
6. Marie's green card
7. My passport
8. Our marriage license
9. Smog testing certificate for the car
10. Acceptable eyesight
It probably would have been easier to just wheel our Ikea filing cabinet in the front door. In fact, I'm surprised they didn't ask for my entire dossier from Mom's computer room desk. You know - the one that has our 7th grade report cards in it. Now, we can never leave California - the switching costs are just too high.
Tuesday night was Mormon night at our hometown San Diego Padres' Petco Park. We saw the flyer at the church building, and thought "wow - what could be more fun than that?". So I bought tickets ($10 each) and we even got Stu and Adrianne to come with us. All was good until we actually sat down in the seats. Kai was a holy terror - just like he is at sacrament meeting, but worse since at sacrament meeting there are no pistacio shells to pick up off the ground and eat. Asha insisted on sitting on our laps, reminding us that she is a powerful 40lb. package of pain. Jerome, accustomed to a certain standard of luxury at Aunt-T baseball games, brokedown over the strict "no snacks" regime we implemented. To make matters worse, the game was a 1-0 pitchers duel lost by the Padres. I have successfully weaned myself off of baseball over the past 3 years, so I guess it was good not to even feel any stirrings of interest during the 5.5 innings of our baseball odyssey. Oh well - you live and learn. Next year we will not be fooled so easily.
Last night I went into the bathroom to administer some allergy eye drops because my eyes were itchy. Unfortunately, I confused the eyedrops with another identically-sized squeeze bottle. I am happy to report that my right eye is now totally free of ear wax. I put the drops in, and immediately noticed something was wrong. My eye was burning, well, like I had put Muriene in it. I flushed it out in the sink just like they taught me in chemistry class, and all was fine. I guess I'll be checking the label a little more carefully next time.
Below: baseball game, and Asha helps cut cucumbers in the kitchen.
1. Checks (NO CREDIT CARDS!)
2. Old car registration
3. Proof of insurance
4. Old car title
5. Old Pennsylvania licenses
6. Marie's green card
7. My passport
8. Our marriage license
9. Smog testing certificate for the car
10. Acceptable eyesight
It probably would have been easier to just wheel our Ikea filing cabinet in the front door. In fact, I'm surprised they didn't ask for my entire dossier from Mom's computer room desk. You know - the one that has our 7th grade report cards in it. Now, we can never leave California - the switching costs are just too high.
Tuesday night was Mormon night at our hometown San Diego Padres' Petco Park. We saw the flyer at the church building, and thought "wow - what could be more fun than that?". So I bought tickets ($10 each) and we even got Stu and Adrianne to come with us. All was good until we actually sat down in the seats. Kai was a holy terror - just like he is at sacrament meeting, but worse since at sacrament meeting there are no pistacio shells to pick up off the ground and eat. Asha insisted on sitting on our laps, reminding us that she is a powerful 40lb. package of pain. Jerome, accustomed to a certain standard of luxury at Aunt-T baseball games, brokedown over the strict "no snacks" regime we implemented. To make matters worse, the game was a 1-0 pitchers duel lost by the Padres. I have successfully weaned myself off of baseball over the past 3 years, so I guess it was good not to even feel any stirrings of interest during the 5.5 innings of our baseball odyssey. Oh well - you live and learn. Next year we will not be fooled so easily.
Last night I went into the bathroom to administer some allergy eye drops because my eyes were itchy. Unfortunately, I confused the eyedrops with another identically-sized squeeze bottle. I am happy to report that my right eye is now totally free of ear wax. I put the drops in, and immediately noticed something was wrong. My eye was burning, well, like I had put Muriene in it. I flushed it out in the sink just like they taught me in chemistry class, and all was fine. I guess I'll be checking the label a little more carefully next time.
Below: baseball game, and Asha helps cut cucumbers in the kitchen.
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