Last night I took my wife out for a birthday dinner. One of the things she’s been craving a lot these days are Maryland crabs, and we’ve had to put off indulging while we dig ourselves out of the financial basement.

There’s a place down on Main Street that used to be a dive bar for locals. Many moons ago we stopped in with some friends for a beer, and the old fellow behind the empty bar had to unlock the door to let us in. We had a choice of beer in cans (his exact reply when we inquired about the selection was, “We got everything. Bud, Bud Light, Coors Lite, Miller, and Miller Lite.” As if all other beers had ceased to exist.) and little other input—the kindly fellow continued smoking and kept the volume on the TV up to “ear-splitting”. The sparse selection of liquor and wood panel decor reminded me of the old-time neighborhood bars in Canton that seemed to cater to the same fifteen or so pensioners when I first moved there in 1996. By 2001, most of them had been sold and converted into some form of yuppie martini bar, closed, and reopened again. (The rest were converted into highly coveted corner-unit residential housing for Hummer-driving meatheads.)

I kind of miss those old-time places, with their hand-lettered signs for coddies and fries, cheap domestic draft beers, and baseball games on the TV. One of my favorite memories of Canton, in fact, was the community response to local sports. The night I remember in particular, I was busy constructing the porch off the back of the house, and listening to the Ravens game on my B/W portable TV. After a long drive, the Ravens scored, and I heard cheers rise up from all around the neighborhood through open bar doors and kitchen windows. My little house didn’t seem so small anymore—it felt like I was in a community, and that, I guess, is what city living used to be like back in the day.

This local place was bought out a year or two ago and remodeled into a neighborhood restaurant/bar with a nautical theme, and now it offers a selection of local seafood served by a phalanx of bored-looking hootchie cheerleaders. Normally I dislike vapid sorority girls, but the crabs have been excellent each time we’ve sampled them—full, clean, and heavy with Old Bay. In fact, they use so much Old Bay at this place, you have to shovel the overflow off the table into a bucket. That’s tasty eating. They do crabs, and do them right, and that’s pretty rare these days outside of the city. They’ve kept the overall feel of the place pretty original in the bar area, and as we waited for a table we sat at the bar in front of the Orioles game, tolerating the smoke for the promise of tasty shellfish. Soon, we were sitting in front of a dozen steaming 38’s and dove in with abandon while the place began to slowly clear out around us. As we walked drowsily back home in the evening cool (and before Jen’s contact lens rolled up into the back of her skull), I was thinking that felt good to have a neighborhood bar again.

Date posted: August 11, 2005 | Filed under general | Comments Off on Tales From The Hood.

I love you, shmoopy.

Date posted: August 10, 2005 | Filed under life | Comments Off on Happy Birthday, Baby.

I haven’t seen the actual show (we don’ have the HBO), but this clip is sheer brilliance.

Date posted: August 8, 2005 | Filed under humor | 1 Comment »

Million Dollar Baby: Worth every Oscar they gave it. Great movie.

Hitch: That rarest of species: the funny, watchable, engaging romantic comedy.

Our house: Not nearly enough progress as I’d hoped, but it’s getting a little closer. There’s a coat of primer on the back atrium windows, the attic window above the stairs, and on the fascia board over the peak of the atrium window. (That was an interesting feat of acrobatic skill, hanging my stupid ass over the side of the roof to slap a coat of paint on a board. It’s funny how fearless I get with heights as the summer progresses…)

Life: We spent Saturday evening with R&K on their deck in Canton, overlooking the neighborhood, harbor, and city skyline. As always, it’s great fun to relax with the two of them and enjoy cocktails on the cheap. The pair of all-weather couches and comfy pillows up there is a testament to their excellent taste—sitting on their deck is like being in a private club. Jen and I spent last night poring through the IKEA catalog over furniture we can’t afford. How coincidental was that?

…back to work…

Date posted: August 8, 2005 | Filed under life | 1 Comment »

I got a pile of spam from some asshat—”aaa@aaa.com”, at 68.23.148.214—linking to a bunch of shitty epinions and other ad sites today. This was on top of two other douchebags who tried to game my site to link back to someplace else earlier in the day. Stephen had written something a few weeks back about installing a plugin for MT called spamlookup, which promises to help screen comments whenever the shit starts flying. I don’t use Trackbacks, which is one reason, I think, that I haven’t been hit harder in the past, but I guess it’s only a matter of time for everything. I’ll report back when I see some results (if any.)

Update: I got eighteen more hits from this same dick over the course of the last 12 hours, from varying IP addresses. Spamlookup only caught one, which looked different from the rest.

Date posted: August 4, 2005 | Filed under geek | 1 Comment »

The past couple of weeks have been kind of slow here at Idiot Central as well as elsewhere on the web. It’s not that there’s nothing happening and we’re lounging around in our underwear watching reruns of Dr. Phil and swilling lite beer; both Jen and I are stupidly, numbingly, unaccountably busy. It’s just that I’d like to write about something other than the color we painted the hallway last weekend, or the eggplant growing in our backyard, or what we had for dinner last night.

I realized last night that I’ve been working like an absolute retard since the end of spring and I have nothing to show for it, except a pile of debt. I’d like to say that our brief sojourn to Ireland was paid for, but the harsh fact is that it was put on credit, and I feel that credit hanging over my head like a noose. (I don’t regret going, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.) I dislike debt about as much as I dislike foreign objects in my eye, pro wrestling, and tequila hangovers, so this situation has me a little stressed out. My lovely wife listened to my worrying last night, and was remarkably understanding and calm about the whole situation. I suspect she’s just as tired, worried, and concerned about all this crap as I am, but she’s learned how to keep me from completely wigging out. Thanks, baby.

It’s not like we have a Ferrari in the driveway, or a plasma-screen TV, or closets full of clothes—I’m currently wearing a threadbare shirt I’ve owned since high school and a five-year-old pair of shorts—I’ve just been socked with dumb one-time bills ever since we got back, and it seems like I’ve been writing newer and more expensive checks every day. And that shit is getting old.

Treasures Turn To Ashes

Perhaps, then, it’s fitting for me to post these pictures I took a while back of a house in Ellicott City: The owner has covered the outside with handmade signs (and some of you may know that I have a certain love in my heart for homemade signs) talking about Jeebus, his government, his neighbors, and other assorted subjects. I don’t know what the whole story is, but I present our own local oddity for your viewing and reading pleasure. Maybe this guy has the right idea.

Date posted: August 4, 2005 | Filed under humor, life | 1 Comment »

Dear Internet:

You’re putting me to sleep.

Love,

Bill

Date posted: August 3, 2005 | Filed under geek | 5 Comments »

Driving to work this morning, I passed a Ford pickup, driven by an older man with a receding hairline and a beautiful border collie in the passenger seat. Normally, that would have been enought to put a smile on my face, but there was something else. It’s very unscientific, but I’d have to say here in Maryland, about 3/4 of the pickup-driving crowd sport a big fat “W” sticker somewhere on their truck, something I find it hard to understand. So it was with great humor I noticed the bumper sticker on the back of this particular truck:

DRUNK FRATBOY DRIVES

COUNTRY INTO DITCH

Thanks for that, Pickup Truck Man.

Date posted: August 2, 2005 | Filed under humor | 3 Comments »

What I Did With My Summer Vacation.

That area above the porch roof is now blue, and the three ghetto windows have been scraped and glazed. This is the second-to-last major section of siding that needed to be painted, and these windows are probably in the worst shape compared to the rest. For some reason, there were never any storm windows installed on the atrium, so the windows took a beating. Next up is a good priming and then two coats of high gloss enamel.

Date posted: August 1, 2005 | Filed under house | Comments Off on What I Did With My Summer Vacation.

For the last week, Jen and I have been dog-sitting for our neighbors up the street. Their dog Ros is a beautiful, good-natured Doberman who likes to run in the park and chase squirrels. We’ve been taking her for walks twice a day, and after the initial dread of waking up early was gone, I started looking forward to it. It took us a while to figure out her rythyms: she didn’t eat anything until Jen figured out that she liked having company. She doesn’t like walking on grass-she prefers the sidewalk. There’s a particular spot in the park that seems to agree with her delicate sense of modesty.

It’s really interesting what you notice differently about the neighborhood when you’re out waiting for your dog to finish examining the base of each telephone pole. There’s the fellow down the street with an enviable garden in his front yard. His privet hedges are immaculate. Behind that, the lawn is full of huge flowering bushes and plants, in that effortless but hugely difficult rambling-English-garden sort of way. His gladiolus are tall, healthy, and straight, blooming endlessly in multiple colors. Ours are crooked, confused drunkards who get the crap beat out of them every time it rains. I wish I knew what his secret was to gardening.

There’s the newly finished house next door, which, rumor has it, was purchased for more than we paid for our house, gutted, and rehabbed. It looks good in a bland sort of way. They replaced slanty cedar shingle with faux-shingle vinyl siding, which looks too clean for my taste. The windows are all big and new, but they’re the kind with fake mullions that are too narrow to fit the lines of the rest of the house. Strangely enough, I like the garage best—it hasn’t been altered from its original condition, and it features an old-school ‘no parking’ sign and bubble thermometer above crooked barn doors.

Up the way towards the park, the people who bought one of the larger houses in the area decided to enclose the property with one of the strangest fences I’ve seen in a while—an X pattern in wide planking, backed with green chicken wire. The house is was beautiful last year, but I’m sensing a slide into mediocrity—they saw fit to park a mildew-covered popup trailer in the front yard…wait a minute, who am I to be casting stones…?

Last night, we decided to lengthen our usual route by walking down the trolley path to Opie’s for some ice cream. The evening was cool, the sun was behind clouds, and the trees were filled with birdsong. Ros ranged out ahead of us, and I told Jen about my discussion with a bank regarding a home equity line of credit. From what the guy on the phone told me, our house has appreciated a lot more than I’d thought it might, and he was more than happy to extend a generous amount of money at a rate that surprised me. Depending on what two other candidates say today, we’ll be on the road to a new kitchen by Thanksgiving (Turkey Day is the yearly deadline for any Lockardugan renovation plans).

Ros sat at our feet while we contemplated the true meaning of new appliances, eating chocolate ice cream and enjoying the simple pleasures of the evening.

Date posted: July 29, 2005 | Filed under house | 4 Comments »