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回転寿司 (Kaiten-Zushi)

ARoB, Food/Drink, Music by
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On Tuesday night, Kate and I descended upon our nation’s capital to attend the 20th Anniversary Tour concert that Billy Corgan was putting on for what’s left of the Smashing Pumpkins (read: basically everyone has left except Billy Corgan and he may only be there bodily.) The show was rather “interesting” in a “let’s see what Billy will throw against a drum next” kind of way. He did make his band play the Watchmen trailer version of “The Beginning is the End is the Beginning,” which was probably worth the ticket cost right there.

What’s more interesting than the show was our location and restaurant opportunities it provided. Because Tuesday was a national holiday, I was able to park us right at 17th St. and C, basically on top of the DAR Constitution Hall. From there, it was a short walk to Wasabi, a Japanese restaurant – with sushi on a conveyor belt. I think it’s been since high school when I saw an Alanis Morissette video featuring conveyor belt sushi – or Kaiten – that I’ve wanted to try this. And I was not in the least bit disappointed.

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We did discover something: our taste in sushi is expensive. We racked up a $43 bill in only 15 minutes by unconsciously choosing the most pricey items (denoted by plate color.) Oops!

Cat Hats!

ARoB, General Entertainment by

What better way to entertain cat owners than by making little Halloween themed hats for their “children!” Kate saw these discounted holiday leftovers at Pet Smart in Dover after test driving a new VW CC and just had to have them.

“Bella is going to hate this idea,” I warned.

“She’s going to look so cute!” Kate exclaimed.

“She’s going to tear your arm off…there will be so much blood,” I doomed and gloomed.

“She’ll be so happy. Whether she likes it or not,” Kate declared.

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By hat three, Bella had either given up or moved to a more deeply seated, black hatred of her human parents. In either case, Kate and I both retained all of our limbs. A victory?

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Always the gentleman, Clyde wore his hat with quiet composure. He is too cuddly-stupid to protest even the worst injustice.

Is it weird?

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I don’t think it’s unusual to try to figure out what bald men would look like with hair. This is something I do while sitting in boring meetings, inane lectures, while waiting for a ride, etc. and it has never failed to bring me joy. I have no idea why I am sharing it with you now, Internet. I guess I felt the time was right.

Coffee House Music

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I’ve joined Kate today while she and the Chester River Ramblers play Java Rock in Rock Hall. It’s a really cute coffee house and the music is fantastic as always. What’s better though is listening to Ben, the Englisu guitarist and a hilarious Englishwoman who happened to be in the audience banter back and forth about the south vs. the north, the merits of rust on Tower Bridge, etc.

Chester River Ramblers at Java Rock

Not a bad way to spend a feverish afternoon.

Quinceañera at the MVA

ARoB, Cars by
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Oh, readers, this morning was magical. Kate and I drove to Easton, MD to get her a brand new Maryland state driver’s license. At the MVA. Because, unlike the rest of the freaking country, it’s not a DMV. Oh, no…in Maryland, the MVA is an establishment where licenses are given, driving tests are administered, etc. You can see the need for a unique name.

Name aside, the MVA is in Easton, which is approximately 45 minutes away, so it’s exceptionally convenient to just pop on by. Being that it’s a decent haul to get there, Kate rightly visited the MVA website to learn what materials would be required for the state-swap. The verdict: two forms of ID, proof of residence, old license, checkbook. Basically, all the bases were covered before we departed.

We arrived at 10:30 and were greeted by a lovely banner that encouraged us to visit the MVA online to complete our service request more conveniently. There was a sense of certainty in the assembled materials. There was also a feeling of 1996 brought on by the lovely decor of the MVA office. We were certain Janet Reno would dropping by in practical shoes to dial in to the Internet at any moment.

Friends, a trip to the “MVA” or DMV really allows you to wade deeply into the mainstream of your fellow Americans. And it’s simultaneously frightening and delightful. We shared a bench with the most incredible pair of ladies with gorgeous feathered hair. A snippet of their conversation that caused me to double over with laughter:

Woman: “If you don’t take care of ’em, they’ll accuse you of being a bad parent. It happened to me once.”

Kate & I: *intense snickering*

Woman: “…I live by route 50 and I just let ’em out. It’s not like they say “I want to go get hit by a car.” How are you supposed to know?”

Kate & I: *totally dying*

Of course, while all of this is going on, we have essentially an entire Latin American village surrounding us in the MVA. I mean, I can understand coming with your some of your family or consolidating trips. But sweet god: there were grandmas, nieces, aunts, pregnant ladies, dudes in work boots. It was like a damned quinceañera up in there…but with no cake! Honestly, every time I turned around, there was yet another person standing, sitting or kneeling beside the family of five that had started out sitting on the bench in front of us. To make it even more interesting, one of our Spanish-speaking friends decided that her turtleneck sweater was too much to handle and had her friend/sister/cousin tear the collar off. Right off…right there in the middle of the MVA! The assembled herd of children then proceeded to jostle for the right to hold the discarded sweater neck. So much so that the “father” had to escort the neck and at least two kids outside. Seriously.

Truly amazing. I turned to Kate and confessed that I was only worried I wouldn’t be able to remember all of the amazing things I saw to talk about them when we left.

And we left much sooner than we had imagined, even with an hour and fifteen minute wait. Because, it seems, the MVA decided to change their licensing requirements to include TWO proofs of residence and only one form of ID. They just hadn’t published them online yet. So, when Kate’s number was finally called, all the woman behind the counter could give her was an apology and a brochure of the new requirements.

In a rage, we hauled ass to Starbucks and then took our Starbucks to Wendy’s for twice the consolatory fast food.

Now in High Def

ARoB, Technology, Television by
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Observations from evening number one with High Definition DirecTV service:

  • Some things should not be in HD. Dirty Jobs, for instance.
  • Frogs have pores. Who knew?
  • My head kind of hurts. This is like watching a moving version of your computer monitor.

That is all for now, I think. I’m rather enjoying this upgrade but I feel that, as we enter into hour 4, my brain is starting to rot. It might be time to read.

The Loneliness of Children

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Sometimes (and this is a rare sometimes for a loner like me) it strikes me just how many people I’ll never know. Like this adorably awkward little girl at the optometrist this afternoon. We’ll sit here in silence, she too young to make conversation with an adult, me not wanting to be that skeezy dude talking to little girls in waiting rooms.

Why though? So many potential conversations are completely ignored day in and out because it’s weird to talk to strangers or we are busy or what have you.

And maybe that’s okay? Maybe that’s what makes the connections we do have matter? Maybe I’ll sit here with my iPhone and she’ll sit with her head in her hands and we’ll go on our separate paths, back out of one another’s realities.