Apparently, Uncle Sam does NOT want me

Big news, dear readers. I got a letter yesterday addressed specifically to me (as opposed to, say, "Current Resident") from, are you ready for this, the U.S. Army. The Army. You know, the military. The same folks who are sending young men and women to be killed and injured in Iraq because Bush is an idiot. Yeah, that Army. I wish you could see this letter. It's fantastic. Either I am the victim of identity theft (by someone who apparently really wanted to join the Army), or it's just a simple mistake (does the Army even make "simple mistakes?"). Either way, they rejected my "application" to become an Army of One.

There is not even a complete address and no phone number at all on the letter. I couldn't try to clear this up if I wanted to.

Most of the letter is just gobbalee gook (try to spell check that, my friends), but the crux of the letter is summed up in the opening:

Dear Dave:

We appreciate your interest in the Army. However, since one of the basic requirements for enlistment is that the applicant be a United States Citizen or United States National. your citizenry makes you ineligible to enlist.

Should I hold onto this letter? You know, kind of like a "get-out-of-jail-free card," should the military actually ever come a-knockin'? Because contrary to what I'm sure is classified, super secret information, I am, in fact, a United States Citizen.

Although, I stopped boasting about that around 3700 American military deaths ago.

Those who do not heed history . . .

FF reminded me this morning about a topic that I've sort of let slide to the backburner, ever since the final approval was given to this project, thus ending any chance of stopping it before it was too late. In other words, it's too late.

So, have you been following this ridiculousness that is the Port Authority's tunnel under the Allegheny River to connect the downtown T to the North Shore, so that already overweight Pittsburghers don't have to walk over the many bridges available to them to get from downtown to the North Shore? The project has an estimated cost of $435 million, which is a lot of money to be spending on a tunnel under the Allegheny River by the same Port Authority that has been notoriously poorly run in recent years and just recently reduced service by 15% with a fare increase expected in January.

Seriously, has no one in Pittsburgh ever heard of the so-called "chunnel" in Boston under the Charles River that was once referred to as "The Big Dig?" It was a disaster of monumental proportions for the tax-paying citizens of Boston. And they're still having problems with it, not to mention paying for it. For instance, as I saw firsthand during a visit to Boston just a couple of years ago, water leaking into the tunnels and turning into very dangerous ice during the winter months, which in Boston pretty much includes November through April.

Since I occasionally like to make predictions, I predict that this will be the biggest boondoggle around here since the release of "The New Coke." It will run grossly overbudget, it will encounter numerous unforeseen and unplanned for problems, and it will be a subject of contention around these parts for years to come. Hell, it's already begun: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07207/804514-147.stm

Unfortunately, the Port Authority won't have the luxury of just re-releasing its old formula and slapping the name "Classic" on it.

Did you do anything interesting today, Dave?

Today, I put pomade in my hair for the first time. I like it. Who knew?


Of course, I bought the pomade about a year and a half ago at the encouragement of FF.


Sometimes it takes me a little while to try something new.

Weekend sexy

I sure do like Eggs Benedict.




[That's not my shirt.]

Dave's Email Inbox

Jim: My wife and I happened to notice last night that our neighbor's teenage son was upstairs in his bedroom sticking his head out of the window with a lighter in one hand and smoke clearly visible. I'm not sure what, if anything, I am expected to do in that situation.

Dave: You're the parent, my friend. I'm sure you'll figure something out. Or Google it.

Jim: Parenting the Google Way. You should write a book.

Dave: I probably should. But I'm way too busy just trying to keep up with my blog.

A-ha! Mark Cuban was right!

You know, I started to write a little blurb for my blog about the NBA, but then I deleted what I had written because I realized that no one really cares about the NBA. False alarm. You may go back to what you were doing. Move along, now. Nothing to see here, folks.

Bugger!

It's true. It's finally happened. The Beckhams, Victoria and David, have arrived in America to, among other things, I'm told . . . provide the Bush administration with an exit strategy from Iraq, increase America's understanding of what it means to be truly beautiful, entertain us with their whimsical nature, and something having to do with soccer. I don't know much about that one, but I've seen David on ESPN a few times, and I think that they were talking about soccer. Regardless, it's a glorious time to be an American! Woohoo!

Today, on Dave's email . . .

I had hoped that I had fully used up my childlike need to write blogs about my monkey. But today's email exchange with my friend Jim forced me to give in.


Jim: I went out for a few beers with a couple of former co-workers last night. didn't think I drank much (or any more than usual), but wow, do I feel like crap this morning. We are old, Dave.

Dave: Yes, I know. That's one of the reasons that I try not to drink too much anymore, and instead do other things. With my monkey.

Jim: We're still old. No matter how your monkey makes you feel.


So true, Jim. So true.

And another thing . . .

I have a prediction. I predict that Barry Bonds will hit his historic and controversial 756th homerun against my team, the Pittsburgh Pirates. Stay tuned.

No cell phone left behind

So, I got up this morning, went downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee, and then, as I often do, I stood in front of my big, beautiful windows in my boxer shorts and looked out at the world. And there she was. The queen of all multi-taskers. Now, I've seen people like this before, but she appeared to take it to a new level. She was pushing her baby in a stroller, walking her German Shepard-esqe dog, and talking on her cell phone. As I said, I've seen this before, and I think it's crazy. But this woman had to stop and bend down to clean up what her dog had just done on the grass. Did she get off the phone in order to facilitate this? No. She bent down to pick up the doggie droppings with a plastic bag and kept right on talking.

Was it wrong that I secretly hoped that she would drop her phone in the poo?

From Amsterdam with love

I'll admit it. Things have not been going all that well for me lately, dear readers. But today I did receive a little bit of joy and happiness in the mail. My new monkey arrived from Amsterdam. Unfortunately, I am not presently equipped to properly use my new monkey. But rest assured, when the time is right, I am going to play with my monkey like I've never played with it before.

No, seriously, it's brand new. It's never been used before. And I'm going to use it. A lot.

Seasonal depression . . .

You know, I've always been this way. As long as I can remember. I don't want to be home in the summer. I want to be out. All the time. Every night. It's just such a glorious time of year that it feels like a waste not to go out and do something every night. And so here I am, home on a summer Sunday night, and yet I'm restless. I want to be out.