Daily

It pains me that I have to remind everyone of this, but nobody gives a thin ribbon of shit about your opinions on Donald Trump, Nancy Pelosi, or even Calvin “The Wad” Coolidge. Please knock it off. I’m now receiving emails begging me to step in and “fix” the comments section. I will simply remind everyone that this is a no-politics zone. If you want to wallow all day in partisan websites and TV networks, that’s your business. But don’t come here and parrot that crap. I want this to be a place for people to get away from it all.

I have at least three options, if things don’t improve:

I can start banning, temporarily or permanently, the IP addresses of serial offenders. In the nearly 20 year history of this site I’ve only done that once or twice, and those were a long time ago. It’s not something I ever want to do, but will if forced.

I can change the settings so that I have to approve every comment before it goes live on the site. That way I could shitcan all the “cute” snarky political garbage. But I don’t have time for that, and it would delay nearly 100% of the comments from being posted.

I can turn off comments completely. This one is the nuclear option, and I definitely don’t want to do it. But we can’t continue as we are.

So, there you go. Please behave. There’s no shortage of places on the internet for you to wallow and parrot, and this isn’t one of them. Please knock it off.

Support us with a monthly $4 donation at Patreon, and get an extra podcast episode every week! We’re also at Venmo (@thewvsr) and PayPal (jeff@thewvsr.com). Thank you, guys!

Yeah, I know. It’s not supposed to be enjoyed. I realize the gravity of the situation, and don’t need a lecture, thank you very much; please leave your high horse in the corral before entering. I’d just like to know if you’ve found anything kinda pleasant about this situation so far. Anything at all?

I mentioned in the podcast that I went into the weekend knowing I wouldn’t be leaving the house much, which would generally make me a little crazy. But the expectations were set in advance, so it wasn’t so hard. Of course that doesn’t mean that next weekend will be the same. Oh, this shit could go south at a moment’s notice. But, this past Saturday and Sunday were kick-back lazy-ass days, not at all unpleasant. I got caught up on two TV shows I enjoy (Homeland and some ridiculousness called Devs), listened to some good music, read part of a questionable adventure novel, spent some quality time with the family, etc.

Of course I’m still working. So the cabin fever will come later for me. On Monday through Friday I’m still going to the office. The boys aren’t working, and Toney works from home. But I’m still commuting 36 miles down and 36 miles up the Devil’s Parkway each day. So, maybe I’m not an ideal person to ask about this. I’m a loner by nature, which makes it easier, and my life is only really changed on the weekends. But what’s your field report? How are you holding up so far? What’s your situation? Are you still working?

And have you found anything somewhat positive in the lockdown so far? At least for the time being? Tell us about it, won’t you? Use the comments.

I saw on the Adam Carolla Reddit page a quote from him about this subject, and thought it was pretty good: “It’s a prison sentence. It’s a short prison sentence. As they say, as the convicts say, you can do the time or the time can do you. I figure you should do the time, meaning go out, build a treehouse with your son or daughter. Cook lasagna with your wife. Don’t let the time do you. Don’t end up with a face tattoo and a toilet filled with prison wine.”

Please check in and give us a status. And I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great one, my friends!

Support us with a monthly $4 donation at Patreon, and get an extra podcast episode every week! We’re also at Venmo (@thewvsr) and PayPal (jeff@thewvsr.com). Thank you, guys!

I had a follow-up appointment with my far-too-casual (“Hey, man!”) doctor a few days ago and he told me I should cut down on the amount o’ coffee I ingest daily. Which caused my brow to furrow and stay that way for a long time. Then he told me that the thimble of joe I do drink should always be black. And that did nothing to alleviate the furrowing. What kind of bullshit is this?! I told him I’d work on it, but felt like I should’ve had my fingers crossed behind my back.

I get up every day at 9 am (give or take), and leave for work at 1 pm (more or less). And between those hours I drink coffee. Oh, I don’t guzzle it, but I casually drink it for that particular hunk of the day. And once I stop, I stop. The moment I transition into water or some other cold drink there’s no more coffee. I’m not a coffee-all-day kinda guy. But it’s still probably excessive. It likely adds up to nearly a pot. I know people who drink much more of it than I do, but it doesn’t do much good pointing to other people’s ridiculous choices to excuse your own.

And what’s the deal with recommending I drink it black? I don’t put sugar in it, just a small splash of milk. How could that hurt? Where’s the harm? I should’ve asked him (“Well, my dude, let me explain…”) but subconsciously knew I wouldn’t be taking his advice on that part of it, so I didn’t bother.

So, to summarize, his advice was “one or two” cups per day, black. And so far I’ve eased back on it, but exceed his recommended number. And I’ve 100% rejected the “drink it black” proclamation. I’ll continue the easing back part and over time try to get down to his number. That’s my sincere goal, but we’ll see. At least he’s got me thinking about it, right? I never did before, not really. So, there’s that. …Hello?

Do you drink coffee? What’s your ritual? Are you an all-day ingester, or is it morning only? What do you put in it? Do you turn it into liquefied candy as many people do? I never understood sugar in coffee, but whatever. Tell us about it, tell us about your relationship with coffee. And if you don’t drink it, how do you reanimate at the beginning of the day? Are you going to piss me off and say exercise or somesuch healthiness? Well, have at it. Use the comments.

And I’ll be back soon, very soon.

Have a great day, my friends.

Support us with a monthly $4 donation at Patreon, and get an extra podcast episode every week! We’re also at Venmo (@thewvsr) and PayPal (jeff@thewvsr.com). Thank you, guys!

I can’t remember the circumstances that led me to actually try the McWrap at McDonald’s. It seems wildly out of character for me. I mean, seriously. But I gave the chicken and ranch wrap a try, shortly after it was introduced, and loved it. Of course, I ordered it without the ranch dressing, on account o’ the blecch. That always leads to the order-taker looking at me in confusion and disbelief: “Are you serious? You’re not just going to use it as a transfer platform with which to move sauce to your gaping maw? That’s the whole point!” In any case, I ordered one hold-the-ranch and thought it was fantastic. And I’ll attempt to bullet-point the reasons why:

• It was tasty and fresh and included a mixture of pleasing components: crispy chicken, lettuce, tomato, cucumbers, cheese, etc. It was shockingly good.
• It was a sizable serving, at a reasonable price. In the beginning, anyway.
• It was easy to eat while navigating Interstate 81, the Devil’s Parkway.
• It felt like it might not be completely unhealthy.

I loved ’em, and found myself craving the things on a semi-regular basis. Then it all went wrong… I’m not sure why, but the price kept creeping up, up, up. I’ve rarely seen such a fast ‘n’ steep escalation. I think they introduced them at a special introductory price, to get people acquainted, and didn’t want to just crank them to the permanent price all at once. So, they eased us into it. But every time I bought one it felt like it was more expensive than the time before. Eventually, it became an issue and I would grimace when they gave me the total. Sweet sainted mother of Florence Jean Castleberry… I still bought them but was starting to take price into consideration.

Then they were gone. All gone. It all happened so quickly I sometimes wonder if I’d just imagined the whole thing. They had big delicious wraps at McDonald’s? Yeah right. Maybe I should go see a doctor?

In any case, what’s your favorite discontinued fast food item? Please tell us about it, won’t you? Also, what were your thoughts on the McWrap if you tried it. Please bring us up to date on all of it in the comments.

And I’ll be back soon. Much sooner than this one. Sorry about that…

Have a great day, my friends.

Support us with a monthly $4 donation at Patreon, and get an extra podcast episode every week! We’re also at Venmo (@thewvsr) and PayPal (jeff@thewvsr.com). Thank you, guys!

It feels like I’ve lived in a lot of different places. And I’ve had a fairly stable life, compared to Toney (for instance) who was raised by a crazy person who insisted on bouncing from apartment to house to apartment throughout her early life. I don’t think she could even begin to make a list like the one I’m about to make. Here’s my quick breakdown:

Upstairs garage apartment on 15th Street in Dunbar: My earliest memory is from that place. The apartment was on the back of the lot behind a house, literally above the garage. There was a little girl who lived in the house on the front of the lot and we were drawing on the sidewalk with chalk or somesuch. And the girl’s mother freaked out, yelled at us to stop, and began pouring pans of water on our artwork as if we’d just defaced The Last Supper. I ran this memory past my mother several years ago and she confirmed there was a woman who lived in that house, who had a daughter that was a little older than me. And the mother was reportedly “a nut,” so it all added up. “How do you remember that?!” she asked. Apparently I was very, very young. I can’t remember the age, but maybe three?

The house at 307 21st Street in Dunbar: This is the first place my parents actually owned. It was small but well-maintained and comfortable. I had friends in that neighborhood, and we had a blast there. When we were about to move to a roomier house a few blocks away, I simply couldn’t believe it. It was impossible to contemplate living anywhere other than that 21st Street house. I launched a desperate sulk ‘n’ whine campaign that did not work, and we left there while I was in 5th Grade.

The house at 400 17th Street in Dunbar: I had an attitude about it, and it didn’t help that it was kind of a shithole when we moved in. But my folks whipped it into shape in short order, and I was surprised and mildly disappointed to realize I loved it. I now consider it the house I grew up in. We moved there when I was 11, and I lived there until I fled the state at the age of 22. My mother’s parents, my beloved grandparents, lived directly across the street (at 401 17th) which was great. And I had no problem making new friends in the new neighborhood, several of whom I’m still in regular contact with today.

Sedgefield Gardens apartment in Greensboro, NC: I lived in three different units there. The first was with a roommate named Gary (now deceased), the second was a one-bedroom by myself, and the third was with my brother. So, three individual apartments in four years, all within the same apartment complex. They weren’t great, but not horrible either. Good neighborhood… close to my job at Peaches Records.

Upstairs-front apartment on Bonaventure Avenue in Atlanta: I moved there with the woman I was dating at the time, sight unseen. We literally rented it over the phone from Greensboro. It was OK, but filthy. We had to work hard to make it livable, but we eventually got there. The neighborhood was sketchy at best, and my car was repeatedly broken into. One time somebody stole a whole basket of my laundry off the back seat. Why?! I still find it baffling. The apartment was tiny: basically two rooms, a bathroom, and a weird hallway (it’s hard to explain). My girlfriend and I eventually broke up, and I lived there for the last year or so alone. During that time several members of the band Arrested Development lived across the hall. They were cool. Imagine my surprise when their first album sold 6 million copies and won a shitload of Grammys. Crazy.

Little Five Points apartment: Toney and I rented this place about six months into our relationship, possibly four months. It felt unwisely quick, I do remember that much. It was located in the heart of the hipster bohemian neighborhood known as Little Five Points, literally a few feet away from restaurants, bars, concert venues, record stores, and wacked-out shops. It was fairly sketchy at night, and very loud. We had homeless people sleeping against our front door for warmth and sometimes found folks passed out on our back porch. One time there was a guy out there wearing nothing but a pair of tighty-whities, and he had no idea how he got there. It was wild, and somewhat dangerous. Every apartment but ours was broken into, and it was only a matter of time before we joined that fraternity. I think we were there for a little less than two years, and rarely slept through the entire night because of all the hollering and glass breaking outside.

Our first house, in Lithonia, Georgia: We bought this from a couple going through a divorce. They were young, and hadn’t been married long. They had the house built, so it was almost new when we got it. Better than new, the real estate agent told us. It was a nice house, and we had no responsibilities at that time in our lives. Except, of course, the mortgage we’d just taken on. But I think we only paid $94,000 for the place, so the monthly payments weren’t large. Toney still says it’s the nicest house we’ve ever had. I don’t know about that, but it was a great place, and it was a great time in our lives. Pleasant memories.

An apartment in Santa Clarita, California: When we moved to the west coast we signed a six-month lease to give us time to figure out what we were going to do long-term. It was shockingly expensive, and not all that spectacular. It was fine, but not worth the ridiculous monthly rent. I remember there was no phone jack in the bedroom we used as a computer room, so we ran this long phone cord all the way down the hallway whenever somebody wanted to go online. Then, when we were done, we’d unplug it and roll it back up. Stoopid.

Our house in Santa Clarita: Actually our address was Canyon Country. It’s confusing… they’re interchangeable. Whatever. This place cost way more than the Atlanta house and was much smaller and shabbier. But we did a lot of work to it, and it turned out to be quite nice. We lived on a cul-de-sac and almost all our neighbors were in the entertainment business. There was a guy who was a writer on King of the Hill, a full-time employee of Adam Sandler, a couple of carpenters who built sets for movie studios, and woman who worked as a set decorator. They were all cool people and we had fun there. Everybody had young kids, approximately the same age, and we’d have big block parties, etc. It was great, our living situation. California itself wasn’t great, but our little enclave in the desert was ideal.

Our house here: We’ve been here since 2000, about 20 years. Insane! How did that many years go by? I’d say this one is my favorite house, but Toney disagrees. She’s all-in on the Lithonia, GA place. But I think a lot of that has to do with our carefree lifestyle in those days. It gets romanticized. Anyway, we’d like to make one more move someday. But we’ll see.

So… my grand total — counting the three Sedgefield Gardens apartments — is 11. Is that a lot? Toney would scoff and mock, on account of Sunshine and her relentless kookery, but it feels like a lot to me. What do you have on this one? Tell us about it in the comments.

And I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

Support us with a monthly $4 donation at Patreon, and get an extra podcast episode every week! We’re also at Venmo (@thewvsr) and PayPal (jeff@thewvsr.com). Thank you, guys!