Dewey Defeats Truman

I need to confess to a guilty pleasure of mine.

Every night before bed I log onto FoxNews.com to check the headlines. More often than not the headlines are the same as on every other news website, but sometimes I get lucky and find pure gold. You see, despite how you feel about the network and their close political ties, Fox News maintains one of the most hilarious websites on the interweb.

The prime example of this, and the one that brings me the most joy, is the enormous image headline they maintain on their front page. No matter what crisis the country is currently, or how many people have died, FoxNews.com always manages to display the poorest taste imaginable. I honestly can't tell if it's intentional or not, which makes it all the more wonderful.

'Sensationalist' doesn't even begin to describe the situation. I mean, for the duration of the election their front page featured fear-mongering quotes by Sarah Palin, and an unhealthy obsession with international pirates. Here are a few of my favorite examples:

So are they are in on the joke or not? You decide!

I hate it when people use the word 'awesome' to describe something negative. Despite the actual definition of the word, I will always associated 'awesome' with words like 'gnarly' and 'tubular.' You know, things that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles used to say.

It really doesn't matter how many people had their lives ruined by a natural disaster. Once you describe the event as 'awesome,' I immediately think of pizza, and I smile.

What words have a strange connotation for you? Sara, I know you're reading this. Hi.

It's 8:30, and my good friend Omar is moving out of his apartment this week. His car is full of junk, and before we go out to dinner he asks if we can stop by his Public Storage locker to drop this stuff off.

"Of course," I said, "That seems harmless enough."

These things only happen to me, I swear.

We arrived at Public Storage around 8:40, and Omar enters in the code to open the automated gate. On the way in we pass by several signs stating that the complex closes at 9:00, and we make a point of hurrying so that we can leave before that.

Our transaction with the locker is completed swiftly enough, but upon trying to exit Public Storage we discover that the gate code we used to enter the complex isn't letting us leave. We're trapped.

My emotional state during this episode was not very different than the stages of grief. At first we could hardly believe that the gate was locked, and merely assumed that we entered the gate code incorrectly. After numerous failed attempts to re-enter the code it became clear that we were stuck. I was angry.

Several obscenities later Omar attempts to contact Public Storage directly. Of course, by 'directly' I mean 'He was put on hold for the better part of 20 minutes' (how many people could the Public Storage help line be talking to at this hour?!) When he was finally able to speak to a live human being they told him he had called the wrong number to handle this sort of situation. They transferred to a second number, and another lengthy hold while I tried calling the police*.

In my hometown emergency services and pizza delivery men have the magical power to open any automated gate in the city. I'm not sure if this is because they know a special code or what, but in 23 years I have never seen a paramedic or Pizza Hut man locked out of an apartment or storage complex. If for some reason the gate is broken, the police officers in my city take great pleasure in calling up the biggest tow truck they have, and ripping the gate from its' post.

This was not the case in Brea, California, where Public Storage seems to have some sort of control over the local township. Here is my conversation with the Brea Police.

"Brea Police Department."

"Yes, my friend and I are trapped in a Public Storage complex. We think the gate is broken."

"Oh, that's no good."

"...this is the police department, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. Is there some way you could send someone down here to let us out."

"Where did you say you were again?"

"Public Storage."

"OH. Hold on."

Lengthy pause.

"No. We have no way of opening the gate."

"No way whatsoever."

"What if our cars were on fire?"

"Hold on."

At this point I seriously considered setting our cars on fire.

"No. There's nothing we could do."

"So you'd let this place burn down?"

"There's nothing we could do. You should try to park your cars and hop over a fence."

After a solid 30 minutes trying to escape the Public Storage complex Omar and I start to accept the possibility that we may be trapped there until morning. My house is fifty miles away, and the only competent person I know within driving distance is at my side. I decide to wander the complex aimlessly, hoping to find a second exit that we may have missed. Fire code be damned, there is one way in and out of this god foresaken storage complex, and that's it.

Several more minutes of searching pass before we discover a small trailer connected to Public Storage, but separated by a tiny wooden fence. Given that we're in an industrial park I become highly suspicious, and peer over the fence to discover a small family living living there!

We shout and scream, trying to get their attention. No response. In desperation I grab a pen from my pocket and throw it at their window. Bingo! A middle-age woman opens their back door and starts to yell at us for trespassing. I try to explain to her that we are locked in, but she immediately takes a rude tone with us. She is the alleged manager of the complex (why neither of the 1-800 numbers we called told us there was someone on-property, I don't know,) and bitterly tells us to park our cars and come back for them in the morning.

Multiple times we try to explain to her that we were locked into the complex prematurely. She suggests otherwise, but we know we're right. How do we know? Because Omar didn't try calling thje 1-800 numbers until 9:01 (according to his phone's timestamp) a full 10-15 minutes after we discovered that the gate wasn't working! After a brief verbal struggled she decided to let us out, but said that she was going to put an extra charge on Omar's PS account because of the whole ordeal. This was around 10:20, well over an hour after we were locked in.

Yes, I realize the best job you could get was night watchman at a Public Storage complex, but you should at least make a point of setting your watch correctly. If for some reason we didn't notice the mobile home we might still be there.

Sigh..

* Of course I called the non-emrgency lines. Some good that did me!

Patty (and Josh) hope you kids have a fun Halloween! Yeehaw!

My state is on fire.

I'm not denying that strong winds can spread a wildfire out of control, I'm just wondering how so many "wildfires" could spawn over the course of two days You're telling me they don't send firefighters out on windy days to look out for these sorts of things? That would seem a hell of a lot more cost effective than calling in every firefighter in the state to do battle with these things once they get out of hand.

You're telling me that these are the worst wildfires on record? Southern California has been populated for hundreds of years... shouldn't the Fire Department be getting better at their job?

Sounds to me like someone just wants to earn some overtime. Well played, assholes.

Rather than fill out a crossword puzzle or angst, I’ve been trying to spend my downtime at work getting to know my colleagues: There are the divorcees, the homosexuals, the Skipper, and the rest. I have come to know each of their stories well, and even made a few friendships along the way.

Then there is The Christian. The Christian (or “Ian” for short) is the one coworker who I’ve yet to form any sort of meaningful bond with. Like me, he’s tall, polite and quiet, but that is where the similarities end. Unlike me Ian does not worship an overweight English Bulldog, but rather our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. In addition to cleaning tables and mopping up salsa, Ian makes a point of telling each and every one his co-workers about his faith. That is, he tells each and every one of his co-workers about his faith except for me.

At first this didn’t bother me. Fine, if he didn’t want to share his God with me then I would entertain myself with more meaningful activities, like making paper hats out of children’s menus. Unfortunately the story did not end there, for Ian decided to take on a much more active role in sharing his faith.

It was Tuesday morning and I had just arrived at the restaurant. Tony, one of my more entertaining co-workers, greeted me as I entered.

“You wouldn‘t believe what just happened. Ian is trying to convert me again.”

I laughed as Tony told me of the busboy’s heartfelt offer. He had declined before, but now it seemed Ian was willing to give it a second try, even going so far as giving Tony his phone number “just in case.” I reasoned that the busboy attempted to convert Tony because of his three children, and was willing to leave it at that until another co-worker revealed that Ian had tried to convert her as well.

A quick poll of the restaurant confirmed my worst fears: Ian has been attempting to convert everyone in the restaurant to Christianity except for me. Not only that, but he had been successful in getting several interested parties to visit his church; It seemed that even though he was a crappy busboy Ian was an excellent missionary.

Confused and frustrated I immediately confronted Ian about the matter.

“Are you trying to convert Tony?”

“Yeah. I think he would be happier if he reconnected with his faith.”

“And what about everyone else? Are you trying to convert everyone here?”

"Just about.”

“Then why aren’t you trying to convert me?”

“Do you want me to try and convert you?”

“What? Hell no!”

There was an awkward moment of silence.

“…Then what was the problem..?”

I thought about this carefully, and went back to waiting on my tables. We haven’t spoken since.

I'm in the middle of moving to another new apartment with Patty and Aaron so I don't have enough time for a full post. Just know that we're all doing well, and Patty is just as much trouble as always. Hopefully I can sort enough things out today so that I can write a full update for tomorrow. I'd very much like to get back into Voxing...

In the meantime, isn't Patty adorable?

Show us an artist who you wish would hurry up and put out a new album.

The Magnetic Fields owe me a new album. I listen to their last one "I" almost every day since I bought it three years ago.

There is no doubt in my mind that their new release won't live up to my expectations, but that doesn't mean that they shouldn't try anyway. I deserve it.

Show us the game you're addicted to at the moment.
Submitted by Lena Katrin.  

I'm playing Pokemon Pearl semi-religiously at the moment. It has been a good five years since playing a Poke-title in any real capacity, and I was pleasantly surprised by how much depth there was here. According to the game's clock I've logged in around 100 hours to the thing, and I still feel like there is a lot left to keep me entertained.

However, one thing I haven't had a chance to do much in Pokemon Pearl is battle other human beings. My friend code is 4124-1571-0231, so if any fellow Voxers would like to play just drop me a line.

 Josh will be out of town for the next few days... and I can't seem to reach the computer chair without his help.

Until I can convince someone to buy me a ladder, these will have to hold you over.

However, anyone who would like to send me a ladder can send it to Josh's address, and I'll be sure to receive it (I screen his incoming and outgoing mail.)

Did you know about these things called 'popsicles?' They're long and fruity and delicious. Aaron was nice enough to give me one while Josh was away, and now I'm addicted. I'm also addicted to barking at Golden Retrievers and golf carts from the balcony, but those don't taste nearly as good as the Otter Pops do.

Peace out!