April 2006 Archives

28th Birthday Party Road Trip

By
Max Univers
on April 25, 2006 9:24 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
Saturday began with a two-hour drive over to Des Moines, where the "official" reason for spending my birthday there was taking place that morning -- AIGA Iowa's student portfolio reviews. Me, Continental and Dick were asked to be among the professionals reviewing. I had never done this before, and I wasn't nervous -- I don't get nervous, really -- but I was feeling something akin to nerves, I suppose. Mostly because I didn't want the students to feel like they were getting ripped off after a horrible waste of 15 minutes showing their book to me.

Lucky for me, the first dude I was assigned had a phenomenal book. A U of I student, he had a book full of pieces done for actual paying clients, and most of it was very nice stuff. You could tell he'd spent serious time putting the book together, too -- photos or prints of each piece appeared on a page with a small title and the original size/medium tucked away in the corner. My only suggestion for this guy was to move the order around and to trim down from 17 pieces to his 8-10 best. Because he totally had 8-10 really nice pieces, and could likely land a job with those. But the other ones needed to get the hell out.

From this point, I was rolling. No more nerves, or whatever that was.
Continue reading 28th Birthday Party Road Trip.

28th Birthday Party In Des Moines

By
Max Univers
on April 23, 2006 9:22 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
I could tell you lots of stories about my big crazy 28th Birthday Party in Des Moines. But its so much easier (and funnier) to show it in pictures. Navigate the Awesome Flash applet I coded below to relive the day, or just sit back and let it play automatically.

There's 70+ photos in there, so make sure you scroll right in the flash applet to see them all. You'll want to see the High Life Lounge, the Pizza at 2am, and more.

You bet.

Wondering Two Things

By
Max Univers
on April 20, 2006 9:22 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
When we walked out of the Homy Inn at 12:56 am last night, I wondered two things:

1) How did the Twins end up winning a game 12-10 in 10 innings? I saw pieces of the highlight package on SportsCenter in the bar, but how exactly does a team starved for offense score 12 runs?

2) How did we manage to close down the bar on a weeknight yet again?

I still don't know the answer to the first question, other than the newspaper accounts which said Michael Cuddyer hit a walk-off, two run homerun off of ex-Twin JC Romero.

I do know that after our Board of Directors meeting last night, we went for a drink across the street to Sullivan's. We sat for an hour or so, had a couple of pitchers, and Cliff left to go grade papers at 8:30. Continental headed out about 15 minutes later, and Dick and I headed to Mother's Good Food for dinner (for him) and beer (for me). That place closed at 10, so we went next door to the Homy. Which is where we stayed for three hours, arguing over the NFL Draft and other important things like that. So that's how we managed to close down the bar on a weeknight. Now I remember.

This is all training, of course, for the big Max 28th Birthday Bash in Des Moines this weekend. Its a birthday so huge it had to move out-of-state, and set up camp at a fancy downtown hotel. Tonight's excursion to Lincoln for Third Thursday is Night Two of Getting Back Into Shape For The Weekend.

Printed Phone Books? Whatever.

By
Max Univers
on April 20, 2006 9:21 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
Is it just that I disdain printed books, or is it that I'm a product of a generation that increasingly prefers to get information online?

When our Office Manager came around passing out the new Phone Books this week, I politely said "no thanks". I honestly can't tell you the last time I used a Phone Book to find a number. I go to Google and type in what I need, and without fail, get the number I'm looking for, usually quicker than I'd find it in a big yellow book, and without having that big 1000-page monstrosity on my shelf. And its always up-to-date; we were looking for places to get some photos blown-up from old negatives, and my boss once called three places that she found in a phone book. She couldn't get ahold of them; when I heard who she was calling, I had to laugh because all three had been out of business for at least a year.

But I'm strange for preferring to go online.

Last week, when we were working on a map, I used Google Maps to get the dots in the right places. She tried to use that, and became frustrated quickly and exclaimed that the online maps were hard to use and unreliable. Preferred a trusty oversized Road Atlas.

I love big maps as much as the next guy, especially those big ones that you can hang on your wall to exclaim to all the world that you're a Geography Stud. Nothing cooler than a big ol' map of the U.S. of A. on your wall, with fold marks intact and push pins in the corners. Oh, you bet.

But if at all possible, I prefer to go online for my maps. One, I don't have to do rudimentary geometry to find things -- looking in an Index for the quadrant a particular city is in, then locating that elusive B-6 quadrant, and the city within said quadrant -- and two, its quicker.

Call me strange (or an idiot), but I don't foresee a need for either an Atlas or a Phone Book in my life, nor on my desk. I'm guessing most people my age feel similarly, and most people my parent's age prefer the printed versions. Nothing wrong with either one. Just a difference. And a divide in the Generation Gap, I suppose.

Just Leave the Glasses On, Chief

By
Max Univers
on April 19, 2006 9:20 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
So I'm sitting at a meeting over lunch, and the moderator has a list of things he's reading off of. Each item is between 10-20 words, taking mere seconds to read, and then he would elaborate on each item afterward. But here's what was driving me nuts: he'd put on his reading glasses, read the item, take them off, fold them up, put them in his shirt pocket, talk for a minute, and then take them back out to read the next item. Over and over again. I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't because no one else noticed this happening, and a random person laughing in a quiet meeting is bad form.

But it was really bothering me. Why not just leave the glasses on? Does he even know he's doing it? Is he doing just to drive me nuts?

Clearly I'm an idiot.

Opening Night '06

By
Max Univers
on April 19, 2006 9:20 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
Last night was opening night of sand volleyball, 2006, and I was in rare midseason form. Sure, we dropped the first game 15-0, but I didn't even get to serve. It would have been closer if I had.

The second game, I scored or assisted on 9 of our 15 points either through serves, spikes or sets. I also had the most embarrassing moment of my six years of playing. Well, I don't get embarrassed, so maybe it was the funniest thing that has ever happened to me in six years of playing. That's a better term.

The area behind the backline of the court slopes pretty precipitously, the result of poor sand raking technique on the part of the complex management. And it only does it on one side, leaving one team with a distinct advantage and the other with a pronounced disadvantage. Of course, you have to stand behind the backline when you serve, so you're in effect standing on the up-side of a cliff as you serve. The slope is large enough that it really seems (in your mind) like you have to hit the ball a good three-five inches higher than normal to make it over the net. The slope may actually only be a three-inch gradual drop over a three-foot area, but believe me, you notice it, and it affects your game.

Well, I was serving in the middle of the second game, having made five points in a row already and giving us a 7-2 lead. As my sixth serve is in the air, heading over the net to the other team, I ran back onto the court to be ready for the return, and because of the slope, I tripped over the backline rope and fell flat on my face. Hilarious. Then the ball hit me in the back and we lost the point. Not hilarious.

I was laughing pretty hysterically, though, and fairly uncontrollably too. I mean, what are the chances of me tripping over the rope and falling during play? Never happened before so the odds are pretty remote, that much I know.

But it happened, it was hilarious, and its a good story. We won the game, or else it wouldn't be so funny. And we won the next game too, helped by a huge dive and dig play in which I dove cross-court, hit the ball mere inches above the ground, and got it over the net for a point.

You bet.

I Will Choose Freewill

By
Max Univers
on April 18, 2006 9:19 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
With Fort Street tore to shreds awaiting the addition of more lanes, from the current narrow two lanes to at least three and maybe even four (hard to tell from looking), my choices to get to work are the ridiculously busy and street-light infested Maple Street, or the equally-construction delay ridden Dodge. Not exactly great choices. I sat on Dodge today at lunch for 30 minutes and moved 10 blocks. Best part is that because of the steel/concrete super-structure expressway overhead, the XM radio in The Colorado does not come in. So one minute I'm cruising along, greatly annoyed by Geddy Lee's falsetto on Rush's "Freewill" (If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice! I will choose my destiny, I will choose Freewill!), and the next minute I'm at a stand-still, greatly annoyed by the sounds of silence -- and not the Simon & Garfunkel song either.

I had to resort to listening to terrestrial radio, and it was one of those periods of time when every station except the Lite Rock station was at commercial break. Which left me with this most unpleasant choice: Michael Buble or complete silence.

I struggled to make a choice, and then I remembered the words of Geddy Lee, the whole if you choose not to decide you still have made a choice thing, and was even more confused. I yelled "I will choose freewill!" and shut the radio off completely.

Strange, yes? You bet.

The Underwear Donation Collector

By
Max Univers
on April 18, 2006 9:18 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
I was walking by the mailroom this morning, and I spied a rather large pink shopping bag with brown glittery stripes sitting on the table with a sign on it. What in the world was this?

It was a Victoria's Secret bag, and the sign said:

"Bring in your undies tomorrow in new or used in good condition for (charity name removed)"

A second, smaller sign on a post-it note said:

"Only donors get to wear jeans for the day!"

A Victoria's Secret bag doubling as an underwear donation collector. You can't make this stuff up.

Easter '06

By
Max Univers
on April 18, 2006 9:17 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
Over the weekend, my brother finally got to drive The Colorado, after 18 months of waiting, pleading, and begging. No one has ever driven The Colorado except me -- ever. It had 6 miles on it when I bought it, all of which were consumed in the on-the-transport, off-the-transport, onto-the-lot sequence that every new car goes through. It has 23,400 miles now -- meaning fully 99.97% of the miles are mine.

The family was in town for Easter, as my brother's wife decided she wanted to host everybody instead of driving back to Fort Dodge. So they get in town, and decide I need to host everyone Saturday night since my brother's wife is doing Sunday.

Fine, except I'm out of everything important (read: beer and chips), having not anticipated doing this. And with no time to go to the store -- the guys were off to the Bass Pro Shop in Council Bluffs to kill time looking at manly things like big boats, bears and fish -- it was going to stay that way. Oh well.

"We'll just grill out. Do you have beer?"

"I have Schlitz."

"No, do you have beer?"

"Yeah, I said I have Schlitz."

"So you're saying you don't have any beer? And you're hosting the party tonight? Great."
Continue reading Easter '06.

Ringing The Captain's Bell

By
Max Univers
on April 17, 2006 9:16 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
So I get home Friday, and I realize that I've made it the entire way through Lent without once eating at Long John Silver's. This is a big deal because its the first time its happened since, well, probably since I was too young to eat artery-clogging deep-fried fish planks, fries and hush puppies. Needless to say I rectified the situation by going to the nearest LJS and getting fish.

Now, LJS has always struck me as an interesting fast food chain. They occupy a rather specialized niche: greasy seafood served fast. Who wants that? Right. But for a few weeks in the spring, lots of Catholics like myself go there in droves because the BK Big Fish! is just gross, and the McDonald's Fillet-O-Fish is not fish.

I can remember going to LJS as a kid all the time. At that time, the buildings were designed to look like a building in Cape Cod. They all had specific entrance and exit doors, and legend has it the old pirate Long John Silver himself would impale you with his hook arm if you dared enter through the exit or vice versa! So of course everyone entered through the "enter" door. Of course. But there was a practical reason for this, beyond legends of old pirates ramming sharp instruments through your ribcage. See, the line for ordering formed at the enter door, and wrapped around the corridor-like dining area in an L-shape. If you came in the exit door, you would have no way of getting in line. Of course, the same people who would challenge the pirate Long John Silver by entering though his exit door probably would have no qualms about budging in line, so perhaps I have no point here. I don't know.
Continue reading Ringing The Captain's Bell.

The Taco Bell That Time Forgot

By
Max Univers
on April 12, 2006 9:26 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
Editors Note: The following was originally published on BeA Design Group on April 12, 2006.

oldetimetacobell.jpg

Usually when you come across a restaurant that still has an outdated sign, building design, or both, its in Podunk, USA, out in the middle of nowhere, in the boondocks, where the only people who would notice don't much care.

Burger King is usually the biggest offender in this area, in my experience. I've seen a BK in western Nebraska that was in a steel shed with the old 1970s logo proudly adorned across both the building and its sign. I've seen a BK in a truck stop outside of Des Moines that had covered the old logo with a giant sticker that had the new logo on it. And I've seen a BK in Pittsburgh with a Old West type treatment on its sign.

McDonald's and Wendy's have both kept the same, or very similar, logos and signs for such a long time that I've personally never seen one that had something different. And I'm the only one who cares about Hardee's, but I'll mention it anyway: their change in the mid-nineties from Brown-and-Orange to Brown-and-Blue and then their later change to the Carl's Jr. star logo caused much consternation on my part when the local Hardee's in Fort Dodge, Iowa where I grew up did not stay current.

If I was going to give out an award for "Fast Food Restaurants That Time Forgot", or Ffrttf's (pronounced Fifferretteff's), those three BK's would all be nominated. But they wouldn't win.

Continue reading The Taco Bell That Time Forgot.

And Now, The Rest Of The Story

By
Max Univers
on April 11, 2006 9:15 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
When I left the group Saturday night to go board the mysterious party bus, it left my brother and several others to squeeze into a compact car for the ride home (we'd taken two vehicles downtown). Their chanting as I walked away aside, I was slightly concerned for them.

Last night at dinner, I found out the rest of the story -- the part that happened after I left. Almost makes me wish I'd been there. Almost. But not quite. You bet.

They not only fit into that car, they managed to make it to Council Bluffs for another hour of bar time. They get to the Leisure Lounge, and all is well for a half-hour or so. Then he goes to order another pitcher, and the bartender tells him no. "I'm not giving you another one. You can't possibly finish it. Its 1:42."

"1:42? Hell, then give me two pitchers!"

"Fine, its your money."

The enormity of drinking two pitchers in 18 minutes seeped in, and he started going around the bar filling people's glasses up. Spilling on them of course. Did I mention this place was full of bikers? Not weekend Harley riders. Leather-clad, tough-as-nails, no helmet bikers.
Continue reading And Now, The Rest Of The Story.

At The Science Center, And Other Adventures

By
Max Univers
on April 10, 2006 9:14 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
I spent most of Saturday in Des Moines, where we went to the Science Center of Iowa. My parents were babysitting my brother's wife's 10-year old sister, and so we drove over to meet them. The exhibits there are geared toward 10 year olds. This means I had a great time, as you can well imagine.

The building itself is quite impressive, a brand-new structure with stunning features and bright colors built on the riverfront. This is a stark contrast to the old center that I remember visiting on field trips in elementary school. That one was an old, dark building wedged into a residential/commercial neighborhood adjacent to a city park.

It never gets old walking in front of the gigantic blow dryer (a 15-foot hair dryer!). Or examining the clear toilet, sink and bathtub in the "how plumbing works" exhibit. Or for that matter, the weather studio that one of the local television stations broadcasts the forecast from every night -- an off-site television studio/weather lab, complete with green screen and everything.

We sat in the planetarium for a show -- an impressive planetarium, if I do say so myself -- and I wondered why every planetarium has the same deep-throated guy reading the narration. Then I turned to my brother and said, in a dead-on impersonation, "Welcome to the plane-arium. I have a rare genetic disorder that prevents me from pronouncing the t in plane-arium." Hilarious stuff.
Continue reading At The Science Center, And Other Adventures.

Building a G4 in 81 Degree Heat

By
Max Univers
on April 7, 2006 9:13 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
I refused to turn on the air conditioning at my house yesterday, and the result was the upstairs was 81 degrees. The back bedroom where my computer is was a toasty 85. With storms and rain approaching, I couldn't open the windows so I was just stuck with oppressive heat.

***

I'm not a computer geek in the traditional sense. I live four hours from my parents, I own a home, I prefer to be out partying to staying at home playing video games, and I don't spend every waking moment running away from sunlight like a vampire. But I have built a few computers from scratch in my day. Once in college, I assembled parts from various places, and literally built a computer from the ground up. Took me two months, but when I got done, the first "Tommy PC" was born. Totally had a rip-off Hilfiger logo on the front, too. So needless to say, I can fake my way through the inner guts of a computer.

So when my PowerMac died a couple weeks ago I opted to build a new PowerMac from parts of various other PowerMacs. It would save cash since I'd burned through $400 for an iPod two days prior, plus I could likely get a pretty good box for not much coin.

Scrounging eBay, I assembled the parts I would need, keeping in mind what I could salvage from my old G4. Last night was the Bigg Night Of Assembly! So Big it requires two G's in Bigg!
Continue reading Building a G4 in 81 Degree Heat.

Attack of Peter Cetera

By
Max Univers
on April 6, 2006 9:12 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
I arrived at work today to find the phone on my desk ringing. I pick it up, and about 30 seconds into the conversation, there's a lull. My ears pick up on music in the background. Sure enough, it was Peter Cetera's "Glory of Love" from Karate Kid II. There's nothing like some post-Chicago-17 Peter Cetera solo stuff. Bad times.

The best part, which I realized several hours later, is that her radio is about 8 feet from her phone. Meaning she had to have been CRANKING that stuff for me to be able to hear it. I bet the windows were rattling, just not from the bass -- they probably wanted to shatter in suicide just to escape Cetera.

Attack of Seasonal Allergies

By
Max Univers
on April 6, 2006 9:10 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
You know what the best part of having a massive seasonal allergy attack like I dealt with the last two days: the inevitable hangover the first day afterward, where your body is so drunk from taking Benadryl for two days that everything moves in slow motion, your mouth is extradinarily dry, and your coodination is not what it ought to be! Ah, the allergy drug hangover. But I have got to tell you, being able to breathe finally, its worth it. I was actually short of breath last night it was so bad. Freaking spring. See, this is why I like winter: no allergies!

I felt it coming on Tuesday. But I managed to keep it at bay, until I foolishly agreed to go have a few beers at The Farmhouse. It wasn't the alcohol that was the problem. I have a slight allergy to dogs and/or cats -- nothing major, not the swollen-shut-eyes allergy I had to them as a kid -- but enough that if I'm already weakened from seasonal allergies, it piles on. 350 days out of the year, they don't bother me at all. But during the two weeks I'm miserable already, dogs/cats usually push me over the edge. Sure enough, sitting in The Farmhouse did me in inside of two hours.
Continue reading Attack of Seasonal Allergies.

Alvarado's Twice in Four Days

By
Max Univers
on April 6, 2006 9:06 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)
Things you discover when you eat tacos at Alvarado's at 2am twice in four days

Tuesday we ended up at Alvarado's again for late-night tacos. We were under the impression that we could dine inside, since it is a 24-hour restaurant. We were mistaken. The Drive-Thru is open, but not the dining area. Weak. As we stood in the entryway between the outside door and the inside door discussing options, the workers turned the volume up on the speakers, drowning us out with bad Mexican music. We retreated to the truck and drove through, and immediately we noticed that the drive-thru menu does not have the nice little pictures beside each of the 29 combos they offer. This is essential at 1:30 am. So I'm barking out numbers like Mike Pace calling Powerball numbers:

"I'll have a number 7...and a number 1...and a number 16...and a number 4."

"Unintelligible Spanish"

"You bet."

"What?"

"Thank you."

"24.41"

"Guys, I need $34.41."

Continental informed me the guy had actually asked for just 24. I misheard. My mistake.

"Your change."

And we noticed that to the right of the window, an old "If you are asked to pay a different amount, your order is free!" sign sat non-operational, a relic of the building's Taco Bell heritage. I know this because it said "Store #974" and there's not that many Alvarado's. Unless its irony, in which case its hilarious.

"Your food."

And the 20 pounds of mexican food sat in Continental's lap for the ten-minute drive back -- and yes, it actually weighed that much (or something close to it). They do not go chinczy on the beans and rice at Alvarado's.

On the ride home, we laughed about The Taco Bell That Time Forgot, or the one on 70th & Dodge which still has the old 1980s style sign. How does this happen? Crazy. The only thing we can figure is that they don't order ingredients from Taco Bell and this is why they don't know about it and make them update the sign. And the backwards drive thru window is classy too -- where you hand money and get food via the PASSENGER SIDE window.

You bet.

The Blessed Burrito

By
Max Univers
on April 3, 2006 9:03 PM | | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I know what you're probably thinking. Another picture of Max drinking beer straight from the pitcher? Yeah but this one is totally different. Honest.

OK, so maybe not. But it happened, it was awesome, nay, Awesome, and therefore I must report it. It was toward the end of our stay at the Old Dundee on Saturday night, and five of us had very nearly polished off six pitchers. (There were more people than that at our table, but I'm not sure they actually had any of the sweet PBR goodness.) The bartender was coming to take drinks away, beer was going to be wasted, so I figured it might as well be wasted all over my shirt instead of down the drain. Right?
Continue reading The Blessed Burrito.
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