Spotted!

Almost exactly a year ago, I compared dormant construction equipment -- backhoes, frontloaders, the like -- to sleeping dinosaurs. It was my great pleasure this week to spot a living dinosaur walking on the road:

Who's that knocking at my door?

There was a time in the distant past when logging on to my email was a welcome adventure. I didn't know what would be waiting, and the surprise was almost always worth it. This was late 1996, when email was still sort of new and when a day with 10 messages was a busy day.

Now e-mail is something of a chore, a lasso tying me to my obligations, a reminder I check by rote.

But I've been getting that same feeling of excitement I got back in '96 again, this time from this little guy:


When someone friends me on facebook, I have no idea who it might be. What part of my past will they remind me of? I like that feeling, but I can't help but see the writing on the wall -- facebook too shall pass.

Sole Survivor

For the second time in the blog's history, here's a picture of a wild turkey roaming the (mean) streets of Boston.


I can't believe this guy survived Thanksgiving. Now I guess he feels like he can strut about like the cock of the walk.

Is it a sign of the season?

I snapped this picture earlier this week in Brookline, Mass. I was taken by its starkness -- the juxtaposition of the signs, the bleak fall sky, the tree that's already given up for the year.

D-bags jump the shark

The New York Times ran a front-page story over the weekend about the latest "it" word -- douchebag. The Times asked the anti-free speech group Parents Television Council to count how many times you hear it in primetime. The answer: 76 times this year.

Missing from the story was any mention of what a douchebag is literally or figuratively, making the article a little dry for my taste

Suffice it to say, this little piece of journalism will certainly spell the end of the popularity of douche. Might I suggest a related replacement: Colostomy bag, c-bag for short.

Klassic Klempson

Though this typo is more the fault of the tattooist than the tattooee, I still do enjoy making fun of Clemson.

Long Overdue Props: 325i

These props are so long overdue, they're old enough to drink. Behold! The 1988 BMW 325i convertible in red.


I caution you -- Don't look directly at it. It's too beautiful. Look to the side. Appreciate it from the corner of your eye.

I'm not sure why this car titillates me so. Maybe its the unrepenting angles of the frame in such contrast to the signature round headlamps. Perhaps it's that beautiful color. Maybe it's just the BMW mystique. Whatever the reason, enjoy these props no matter how long overdue they are, 1988 BMW 325i.

P.S. I understand that one of my occasional readers owns this model of BMW. What a great holiday gift for your old pal N-B.

P.P.S. There are 17 other entries in the Long Overdue Props series. You should read some of them.

Deepak Chopra tones it down

I caught mind-body medicine guru Deepak Chopra on CNN's American Morning the other day doing whatever it is that Deepak Chopra does when he's on TV.

I was going to write a little item imploring him to tone down his personal sytle, until I realized that he already has.


That's him in 2007 on the left, with a gaudier version of Kellie Martin's glasses from Life Goes On. The right-hand pic is from this year. Still gaudy, but quite understated in comparison.

Apologies to Johnny Damon

Back in December 2005, when this blog was in its infancy and still quite funny, I made a bold prediction about Johnny Damon's four-year contract with the Yankees. Here's what I had to say at the time:

[H]e's a hobbled 32-year-old, unable to make a strong throw from center to the cut-off man.... [T]his signing will hurt for about 18 months, when Johnny will live up to his $13 million average annual take in New York. But after that, he'll just be another unmovable overpaid declining New York Yankee.

So now four years have passed, and I owe the man an apology. The Boston Globe ran the figures and found that there was no decline in skill in the last four years.

He had 299 RBIs in four years with the Sox, 296 with the Yanks. A .362 OBP with the Sox, .363 with the Yanks. Stole 98 bases for the Sox, 93 with the Yanks. He was caught stealing 21 times for both teams. Hit into 22 double plays for both teams.

Sorry, Johnny. But you still throw like a girl.

Comcast can suck it

The Boston Globe was out last week with its list of the 100 best employers in the region, and it gave first place to Comcast for its generous compensation and friendly managers.

"The underlying principle is simple: Happy employees make happy customers," the paper happily intones.

Let me be the first to call bullshit. Every Comcast worker I've had the misfortune of dealing with was as surly as they were uninterested in helping me. I'm a patient guy, but even I lost it with a customer service rep on the phone.

If Comcast is the No. 1 employer in the region, I can only imagine how bad the bottom tier must be.

Sad Naturalblog

I was prepared to post a Sad Peyton (or Sad Tom) picture this morning, after the much-hyped matchup of the two great QBs last night in Indianapolis. But I'm calling an audible and going with a Sad Bill.


I don't think I'll ever understand why he would go for it on fourth and two from his own 28. Enjoy your undefeated season, Colts.

Calendar math

Have you noticed there are a ton of birthdays this time of year? Facebook lists them for me, and it's averaged two or three a day, all week.

I wondered why, and Mrs. N-B offered the most logical answer: Mid-November birthday minus nine months equals Valentine's Day baby.

I'm a conservationist, really

You may be familiar with the laws of conservation of matter and energy, which say the total amount of matter and energy in a closed system is constant.

I'd like to offer my own twist on the concept: The Law of Conservation of Crazy. In short, my new theorem states that the amount of craziness in a closed system (say, your life) at any given moment is always the same.

Replace a crazy landlady, get a crazy boss. Ditch the crazy boss, unearth a crazy neighbor. It happens without fail. I'd sum it up this way:

This woman can't hold her booze

If you watch cable news, then you've probably already seen this video of a woman cheating death -- drunkenly falling six-plus feet onto the tracks of a subway train in Boston. If you haven't seen it, click away:


She's identified as 26-year-old Sophia Hartdegen of Cambridge.

She said she had four 22-ounce beers before her fall around 10:30 p.m. last Friday. Not bad, I guess. Her LinkedIn page says her job is as a Neuroprotective Research Coordinator. I'm not sure what that means, but perhaps she studies the effect of alcohol on brain cells.