The Dow Is Up!

I couldn't believe this when I read it (may require registration to ChicagoTribune.com), but God apparently hates heart surgeries. Or maybe it's heart surgeons. Or maybe it's just people with weak hearts.

I've never understood this phenomena anyway. Why do strangers sit at bedsides and pray for people? Do these morons believe that they have some sort of direct line to God and that their prayers will save the person? It just doesn't make sense. And worse yet, it seems to have the complete opposite effect of what the person praying wants.

If I'm ever on my deathbed (and given the way I eat and drink, that day will be coming soon), and someone comes into my hospital room to pray for me, kick them the heck out. Tell them to go pray for a brain and/or a hobby.

Do you have the power of Clarence Beeks? Do you have a complete hatrid of mankind and a huge set of cajones? If so, I'd really like to hang out with you, because you're my kind of person.

A lot of you (i.e. 2 out of my 3 readers) are asking yourself, "Who the hell is Clarence Beaks?" And if you're asking yourself that, you're no doubt wondering why he's so awesome. Let me explain. One of the best movies of all time is Trading Places. This delightful romp stars Eddie Murphy and Dan Akroyd. I won't get into the plot right now, because that doesn't concern me. What does concern me is Clarence Beeks, portrayed by Paul Gleason. (He also played the principal in Breakfast Club.) Clarence Beeks is a misanthrope. But he's such a wonderful misanthrope that it's actually endearing. Allow me to give two quick examples.

At one point, Clarence Beeks is talking on a pay phone and someone comes up to him, anxious to use the phone. Beeks says on the phone, "Hold on," and then turns to the person and says, "Fuck off." Then he just resumes his conversation.

But my favorite Beeks moment is when he's walking down a sidewalk. You know when you're walking and you encounter someone and you don't know how to get around them? You go left, they go left. You go right, they go right. You stop moving, they stop moving. Then you make some stupid comment about how you like dancing with them. Finally you get around them and your life can continue. Well, Beeks took a different approach. He went left, he went right, then he grabbed the person and threw him to the ground.

I wish I had the ability to do this. I'm certainly a big enough misanthrope. I generally hate people and the things they do. And I get the Clarence Beeks impulses to do something about it, but I always chicken out.

Just the other day, I was about to get on the elevator at work. There were a few people getting in. Most of them know Elevator Etiquette. You step in and push a button. Then you go to a corner. Then the next person comes in and goes to the opposite corner. That's the dance. We all know it, we love it.

One guy apparently didn't get the Elevator Etiquette memo. He walks in, pushes a button, turns around and stands RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR! So now I have to get on. I just look at him incredulously. I say "excuse me" and try to slide by. Of course, I manage to hit him with my briefcase as I do so because there's not enough room. I wish I could have pulled a Beeks and either walked right into him or grabbed him and thrown him off the elevator. To me, the sad part of this story is that I'm not misanthropic enough to make me happy. I'll have to work on that.

I watched Lost last night. I don't know if I've ever watched a show that bothers me so much. Well, not since I was hooked on Melrose Place, but that show bothered me because it made me question my sexuality (not to mention my sanity). Honestly, why should I really care about Billy and Allison getting back together again. And that crazy Sydney, what will she do next? Anyway, back to Lost. I started watching over the summer and got hooked. It was very entertaining. They really knew how to build suspense. I came back every week just dying for more. Then I realized why it was so suspenseful. They only showed half the episodes! Batting .500 might get you into the Baseball Hall of Fame, but it won't make you successful TV show. (For that matter, it won't get you into the Actuarial Hall of Fame, but that's a discussion for another day.)

Last night's episode was fairly solid, except for the flashbacks to Locke's past. I know that I have attention-deficit problems. I have a hard time paying attention to what I'm doing for more than -- ooh shiny! Sorry, where was I? Yes, attention-deficit problems. Whenever Lost flashes back, my mind just wanders. The reason? I just couldn't give a crap about the characters' histories.

(I hate to interrupt my own blog entry, but I just stumbled across Journey's "Separate Ways" on my 1983 Greatest Hits List. I can't explain how much I like Journey songs and it makes me question my sexuality more than Melrose Place did. I mean, these guys are gay, right? Their songs are gay, right? I shouldn't enjoy listening to these songs, right? Yet, when "Separate Ways" came on, I turned up the volume and started singing along. I think I'm just having flashbacks to the great Journey videos of the 80's with Steve Perry's awesomely feathered hair. And you know what? My flashback is much more entertaining than anything of the flashbacks on Lost. Back to the blog entry.)

In Locke's flashback, they cover what happened when Locke's "father" died. You see, Locke's "father" was actually a con man that just wanted Locke's kidney. (I think if I ever become a con man (and it is something I've been looking into), I'm going to try to con people out of body parts. "I've got this great deal to get an extra heart, but I'm a kidney short of getting it. If only I had an extra kidney.... Say, you've got two kidneys, don't ya?")

Anyway, Locke's "father" dies. But did the con man really die? You betcha. Or so he'd like you to think! He's actually alive. And not dead! Man, I didn't see that coming. (Actually, I didn't. I didn't really care about the first flashback where he stole his kidney. I don't care that the guy's a con man. I just want the stupid flashback to end already.) By the way, that's exactly how Lost does their show. It's like watching a bad episode of Behind the Music. Wait, they're all bad episodes. Honestly, if I don't stop sidetracking myself, I'll never finish this entry.

Locke's "father," who isn't really dead, enlists Locke to help him pick up some money he stole from two guys who look like they've been in way too many Jean Claude Van Damme movies. You know the type I'm talking about. Not quite skeezy, but not quite right for any other role either. Apparently, these guys were in charge of some "retirement money." Yeah, cuz I have Rocko and Esteban running my 401(k) plan. In fact, I have them investing heavily in Nigeria and some guy who can't seem to get his money out of the country. All I need to do is give them $20,000 and I'll make $10,000,000 instantaneously. I can't lose! Please take all my money!

Okay, I'm not even remotely staying on topic right now. My point is that I don't understand the point of this whole flashback. Was it to show that Locke was a complete wimp? Was it to show that he just wanted someone to look after? That he's too trusting? That he had a really bad hairdo? That he couldn't even nail Peg Bundy from Married with Children? I just don't get it. And yet, I'll be there next week watching this stupid show and complaining about the flashback sequences. Stay tuned for my flattering review next week.

I heard from LAF the other day. It's one of those good news/bad news things. The good news is that they like me. They really really like me. They want to hire me and they said that I'm their top candidate.

The bad news? They ain't showin' me no respect! Their offer is a little lower than I was hoping. They even recognize that it's low, especially given what I made as an actuary. They tried to ameliorate me by saying that I'd be getting a review in a year and I'd be eligible for a promotion at that point. So, that'd be nice. But it'd be nicer to get more money now. Of course, when is it NOT nicer to get more money now?

So now I have a real problem. Do I take a job that I think would be fun and interesting even though the pay is low? I think the answer is yes. For one thing, I don't have a whole lot of companies knocking down my door looking to hire me. (I have a few that are trying to get me to pay my bills, but that's another matter. And don't get me started with those childcare payments. One drunken night in Phoenix does not a baby make!)

Rick actually told me a couple good things about working for LAF. One of them is, like I mentioned, I'd learn a lot there. They're great at training, so in a few years, I'd be a goddamn expert. Rick also mentioned that I could then take my experience and go work for a hedge fund somewhere making "bookoo dollares." (Name that movie quote. It's a great movie from the 80's featuring one of the best topless scenes of any movie everywhere. And it also features Judge Reinhold jerking off.)

The other good thing about working at LAF is that it might be possible for me to ease on back into actuarial work. For one thing, I'd be working with actuaries quite a lot. LAF would pay to get my credentials updated. I could study up on recent pension law. And maybe in 2-3 year, I'd be able to get back into it. So given that there might be a big payday in 2-3 years (via actuarial or hedge fund) and I'd probably be getting a promotion in 1 year, I think this is a good idea. Add in the fact that I'm interested in the work and it seems like a no-brainer.

Now the only question is whether I can use the skills I learned in my negotiations class to get my starting pay ratcheted up a little bit. Anybody actually think I'll be successful? Yeah, me neither. But it'll be fun trying.

I'm a huge fan of The Simpsons, to say the least. Some people (The Wife, to name one) would say that I'm obsessed with it. I wouldn't argue with that. It's quite simply the smartest, funniest, best written show that has ever been on TV. I've grown up with The Simpsons. When they started, I was still in high school. They're still going strong today. (I don't want to do the math. It's been a long time, all right?)

Lately, the writing has been subpar. I watch the new episodes of The Simpsons, but I rarely enjoy them. In fact, I've found that I don't watch the repeats as much lately because they only show episodes from the last few years. Frankly, they're not all that funny. Don't get me wrong. The Simpsons is still in first position on my TiVo. But it's just lost a little something after 300+ episodes. And then they aired an episode on Sunday that made me realize just how great the show could be.

Ricky Gervais wrote and starred in the BBC version of The Office. He's an admitted hardcore fan of The Simpsons. So he decided to write an episode that naturally featured himself in a starring role. I have to say that it's the funniest episode of The Simpsons I've seen in probably the last 5 years. And that's when I realized that what's ailing The Simpsons is the writing.

I don't know if the current writers have been writing for The Simpsons too long or if Matt Groening just isn't digging deep enough in the talent pool to find good writers. But either way, The Simpsons has struggled way too long. It's time to hire some fresh writers. Hell, hire Ricky Gervais himself. But something must be done if The Simpsons is going to last through their recent renewal, which will take them through 2008

For the movies I'm watching, I've decided to post them with my rating, out of 5 stars. I'll try to write quick reviews for each one. I owe some reviews and I'll get to them. Eventually.

One of the features I really like about my blog is the Now Playing section. The only problem with it? I don't really listen to much music right now. Well, that's not entirely true. On the one hand, I've been listening to a lot of Howard Stern, which isn't music. (Though, it is the funniest thing I've ever heard in my life. Crass? Of course, but funny, funny, funny.)

The other thing I've been listening to a lot lately is 80's songs. I put together a list of the top 100 songs of each year of the 80's. Actually, I stole somebody else's list. So now I'm going through it and making sure that I agree that all the songs should be there. Most shouldn't. Making matters worse is that my brother-in-law did something similar. And I know that once I'm done with MY list, I'm going to cross-check it with his to make sure I'm not missing anything. Cuz I'm anal like that. My point? My Now Playing list is going to be quite boring.

Thus, I've decided to make a new addition to the blog: What I'm Watching. I frequently comment on my favorite shows, such as 24 (great season so far) or The Shield (weak season, if you ask me). So, I'm going to add a list of what I've been watching lately. I'll split it into movies and TV shows. Thanks to Netflix, quite possibly the greatest idea ever, I watch a lot of movies. Of course, I end up using Netflix to rent TV shows too. I'm now caught up on Curb Your Enthusiasm and Deadwood, both wonderful shows.

I'll try to post (at least) mini-reviews of everything I'm watching. I'm hoping this will make me a more frequent poster because I've really been slacking off lately. I just have to understand that it's okay to post something that's just a couple hundred words long. And given some of what I've been watching lately, it'll be hard for me to come up with even that much.

Now that our house is dog-free, it's caused some unintended side effects. Mainly, it's made our cats a LOT more annoying. I know what you're thinking. How could cats possibly get more annoying? I mean, they're CATS! They're annoying by nature. Very true. I can't argue with that. It's just that with a dog, the cats tended to stay hidden more. But as the saying goes, now that the dog's away, the cats will play. (What do you mean, that's not the saying? Go to hell! Get your own blog! Jerk.)

When The Wife and I were living in the townhouse before we got the dog, Moxy and Simba used to sleep on the bed with us. Well, Moxy slept on the bed every night. Simba only did occassionally. Cuz when they both slept on the bed, they'd inevitably end up fighting and one of them would get punted (by me) off the bed.

Once we got the dog, all the sleeping-on-the-bed nonsense stopped. The bedroom became the dogroom. The cats would venture in, but since the mammoth eating machine was in there (Not me, the dog. Jerk. Didn't I tell you to get your own blog already?), they wouldn't stay long. Well, now that the dog's gone, the cats are venturing in more often. And worse, they're staying longer. And even worse, just last night, both cats were at one point on the bed. It's only a matter of time until they're both sleeping with us. This is not going to help my sleeping ability.

What makes the cats really annoying at night is that they're not comfortable just sleeping on the bed. They want to be where it's warm. For Simba, this is usually between your legs (thankfully, OVER the covers). But if you're not used to it, it can be quite discomfitting to wake up with a cat between your legs. (Take your filthy mind to your own blog already! Jerk.) Moxy like sleeping between your legs too, but sometimes that's not enough for him. You see, the feather duvee (how the hell do you spell that?) isn't soft enough for him. So he has to come lay on our pillows. But sometimes that's too cold. So he'll bat you in the head with his paw until you let him under the covers. Then he's so happy that he'll purr loudly and flex his claws (against my leg or arm or any other exposed piece of flesh, turning me into swiss cheese). It probably won't be that bad now that we have a king-sized bed. But when we were sleeping on a full bed, I woke up every morning wanting to strangle the cats.

Another annoying thing about the cats is that they really like being close to me. I mean REALLY close to me. As in, under my feet whenever I try to walk. Moxy, in particular, loves this. As I'm walking, he'll swirl in and out of my legs, getting stepped on and kicked. (This only causes him to move quicker and rub my legs harder.) I'm pretty sure he's trying to kill me. It's only a matter of time until he trips me and I knock my head on a corner. I think that's when he's going to make his move. He's going to go start eating me alive. "This is what you get for not getting me Fancy Feast!"

My only hope would be that Simba dive-bombs him and saves my life. I've forgotten what a bully Simba is. He'll stalk Moxy and constantly bite him or slap at him. It's actually rather amusing. Simba was nowhere to be found for the last two years when Mocha ruled the house. But now Simba's pissed off. He's like Steven Segal in Hard to Kill. He was in a coma for several years. But now he's awake. And he's out to kill everyone who gets in his way. So far, that's just been Moxy. But Simba did spend the better part of an hour meowing loudly one night this week. I'm sure he was laying on a stair, waiting for me to come downstairs to stop the noise. Then he was going to trip me and eat me alive.

I don't know why I'm so certain that the cats want to eat me alive, but I know they do. So if you haven't heard from me in awhile, please call the cops and tell them what happened. "The cats have finally teamed up and had him killed. They're eating him now." On second thought, maybe you'd better just come over and check on me yourself. Unless, that is, you'd rather spend the next several years in the loony bin.

For as long as I can remember, I've been a good sleeper. No, I was a great sleeper. If sleeping were a competitive sport, I'd be the Babe Ruth of sleeping. (By that I mean, I'd be ugly and out-of-shape, but still producing great results.) I'd be a first ballot Sleeping Hall of Fame inductee. And I wouldn't even attend the ceremony, because (duh) I'd be asleep.

I've slept on grills in the back of station wagons. I've slept in cars, on planes, and in trains. I've slept in stores and at work. I slept through Barbara Bush's speech to Marquette when my oldest brother graduated. I've slept through entire conversations (in which I was an active participant).

I used to deliver newspapers in the morning. I would wake up, roll the papers, ride my bike 3 miles delivering them, and then crawl right back into bed. In fact, no matter how much time I spent awake, I could ALWAYS fall back asleep. All I had to do was lay back down. Sometimes, I didn't even have to do that much.

A few years ago, I would routinely stay out drinking Saturday night until 5:00 am. I got up for work Monday at 5:00 am. So, in 24 hours, I'd manage to get not one, but TWO nights of sleep. And I never had one of those infernal internal clocks that The Wife has. She claims that when 6:00 rolls around, she wakes up and can't fall asleep. Come on, that's just silly. Who can't fall back asleep. That only happens to crazy people.

Well, call me crazy because it's happening to me now. And it's blowing my mind. It happened for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and it just keeps getting worse. After getting just 6 hours of sleep Saturday night, I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. I laid there thinking, "this is ridiculous. I'm The Dow, for god's sake! I can sleep whenever I want! Sleep! Now!!!" It didn't work.

There are a couple things at play here that are really impacting my ability to sleep. One is Luke. That little jerk wakes up at 6:00 every morning. (That's not fair. Sometimes, he sleeps in and doesn't get up until 6:30.) Since The Wife's usually already up, she has no problem letting me sleep and taking care of him. The problem? Not enough soundproofing in my house. And Luke is VERY vocal. So I hear him running all over the house, chattering to himself in his Dow voice (i.e. very LOUD), "da da da da da!"

The other factor is that I can't stay up late anymore. It's not that I don't want to. But now that I'm a father, I've become MY father. So not only do I scratch myself in very inappropriate places, but I can't stay awake past 11:00. (I also shake my fist at the kids in my neighborhood with their loud music and fast cars. Slow down, you punks!) Of course, part of the reason I can't stay up late is because I have no reason to stay up late. With a son at home, it's hard to get into the city for an all-night drinking bender at Nick's Uptown. (There's more reason for an all-night bender, just less ability to have one.) And after having two beers at home, I'm passed out in the recliner being smothered by my cats. Isn't my life just glamorous?

Speaking of Luke (like I did in my last entry), I had a fun time with him last night. He's getting so grown up, it's scary. Daycare even told me this morning that he's actually been saying some words. What a little jerk! All he does at home is say "da!" I have a feeling that he's going to be talking at daycare long before he talks at home. He's probably thinking that it'll be a great practical joke. Then, when he does start talking, he'll probably start speaking in French or something. "La plaisanterie sur vous, papa."

Anyway, I got home from class around 7:00 last night. That's pretty close to Luke's bed time, so I was hoping to find him awake. He was. And boy was he excited to see me. That's always a nice way to come home. The Wife was fried from a whiny, complaining Luke. I gladly took him off her hands since he was in a good mood for me. If he were being a pain in the butt, I'm sure I would have had some "homework" that I needed to do.

Luke was having a blast going down the slide in the living room. (Yes, we have a slide in our living room. We're classy that way.) He's started going down head-first. Of course, he keeps his hands on the slide so he'll slowly inch down. But at least he's going down. I got up to tell The Wife about this. Luke started screaming. "Look at me, Dad!" So I followed him. He patted the coffee table (where I was sitting). After I sat back down, he went back to the slide to show me how he goes down it. As soon as I switched seats, he screamed. Glad to hear that my son isn't going to be anal like I am....

Then Luke and I spent some time playing around in the House of Tunnels that my brother-in-law bought him. It's basically 4 collapsable houses (kinda like in New Orleans, but these are supposed to collapse) and 4 tunnels that attach to the houses. Luke loves crawling in the tunnels to and from the houses. He also loves when I chase him into a tunnel. It must be very amusing because the tunnels are about 1 inch wider in diameter than my belly. So, as I crawl in the tunnel, it slowly collapses, getting dragged shut by my big belly.

Anyway, Luke was in a great mood, laughing the whole time. He's really the best audience in the world. All I have to do is grab his thigh and he'll start laughing. Or pick up his arm (like I'm going to kiss his armpit) and he'll burst out laughing. He's really a very easy-going kid. Well, as long as nobody's playing with his toys. The Wife had some other Mommies over for a play-date. As soon as the other kids touched Luke's stuff, he got wicked upset. Gee, that doesn't sound like a typical first child to me....

Luke knows quite a few words know, even if he refuses to actually speak. He knows where his head is. And his mouth, nose, ears, belly and feet. He knows "upstairs" and "downstairs." He definitely knows "day care." He also gets really upset in the morning if we don't get there soon enough. And as soon as I say "day care," he goes downstairs and grabs his jacket. And once his jacket's on, if I don't pick him up and put him in the car, it's upset city, baby! (Yes, that's my token Dick Vitale impersonation in honor of March Madness. Sounds a lot like him, doesn't it?)

On Friday, I had an interview with LAF. It went pretty well, I think. I don't know. I can never tell how an interview went. Unless they get down on their knees and beg me to work there, I'll leave thinking, "That could go either way." In fact, if they did get on their knees and beg, I'd probably think it was just an elaborate ruse to make me think I was getting the job. Then Ashton Kutcher would walk in and tell me that I got Punk'd. Yeah, cuz I heard that Kutcher was going to start Punking no-talent grad school morons. That'll really bring in viewers.

Anyway, LAF told me some really interesting things. Mainly, they told me that I could do the same thing as I do at M&S right now. (Theoretically anyway. They don't really have any work for me. How does that keep happening by the way? It seems like everywhere I go, they're in desperate need for an employee. Then I get there and do a couple of things. Then they realize they don't really have much need for an employee after all. And yet these companies somehow make money. Although I got some inside information that M&S is having problems paying the bills right now. Probably because they're paying me $20 an hour to play SuDoku on the web.)

Back to my point. (I really have to avoid those long parentheticals.) The work at LAF would be similar to M&S, but a lot more interesting. First of all, the clients I have at M&S are tiny. We charge these clients about $5000 per project. (Again, and they're having a hard time paying the bills? Huh!) At LAF, they deal with Fortune 100 companies. Their fees? Oh, about 100 times what M&S charges. Plus, the work is a lot more interesting because of the nature of the companies.

And the best part? LAF has an actuarial practice in Chicago. Not only that, but the valuation group (where I'd be working) uses the actuaries quite a lot to do some valuations. One of the guys I interviewed with told me that he'd really like to have me on board to help do some of that work. (I joked with him that he really only wanted me to translate between the actuaries and the business valuation people.) Another guy told me that LAF would probably pay my back dues on my actuarial accreditations. So, in other words, it could be that all those years I spent taking actuarial exams won't be a complete waste. I don't know if I've ever typed words that made me happier than those.

All this said, I'm pretty sure I won't get the job. Why? Because I'd be too happy if I got it. And life hasn't been working that way for me lately. (Yeah, I know, I have the worst life. And Luke is the worst child too, what with all the smiles and laughs. I might as well just move to Afghanistan or something. Anyway.) I'm supposed to hear something by the end of the week. Hopefully, Rick (formerly of M&S, currently at LAF) will put in a few good words for me and help me secure the job. Keep your fingers crossed.