Monday, May 21, 2012

The Banana Split (with 0 pregnant women)

Saturday I was in Philly for an improv workshop and then I had 2 shows at night.  Rather than going home, I stayed and had an impromptu picnic with Jim & Alex.  They made a nice salad and we sat in a Penn Treaty Park near the river in the NoLiBs section of Philadelphia. 

The weather was amazing!  But to make the day even better, there was an ice cream truck playing his “ice cream truck” music as we walked into the park.  I asked Alex if the truck will be there when we were done eating.  I’m not sure why I deemed Alex the authority on the procedures of ice cream trucks, but she assured me it’s always there. 

As we were finishing the salad, the ice cream truck pulled away.  Dammit!  Thus began my quest to find a banana split…part 2.

Let’s take a trip back in time, shall we?

A while back I had a hankering, which is what you have to call it when you suddenly want a banana split out of the blue.  My buddy Andrew knew this, and called me from (the now defunct) Golden Castle in Delaware at 2 in the morning.  I drove and met him only to find out that they do NOT have banana splits.  They didn’t even have sundaes but the waitress was kind enough to use a bit of ingenuity to pull a sundae together (including microwaving chocolate sauce).

It wasn’t great, but the effort more than made up for it.

I’m not really even a big fan of banana splits.  I think, in my entire life, I MIGHT have had 5.  And that’s a big “might” (thus the capitalization).  But recently I have been eating a lot of bananas; and though yes – I am lactose intolerant - I love ice cream!  So sometimes the craving creeps up and I am a captive to my own vices so…

…back to Saturday.  After leaving Jim & Alex, I met Emily in South Philly.  She had just seen an improv class show and joined me in my quest to find a banana split.  First I looked in the window of a candy shop.  They sell ice cream, but since I didn’t see a line of people eating them, I assumed they didn’t have them.  After all, I had sat in traffic coming from NoLiBs to South Philly while a “Pot Parade” went by (true story).  And if there are a bunch of stoners in the area, they are definitely going to have the munchies and search our banana splits.  There were none in the candy store…so they must have no BS’s.


Me:  “Do you have banana splits?”
4th St Diner Employee:  “No, sorry.”
Me:  “Do you have banana bread?  I’m desperate.”

4th St Diner Employee:  “No.”
Me:  “My wife is pregnant and really wants one.”

Emily glares at me.

Emily:  “We’re not married.”
Me:  “OK, we live in sin.  But that doesn’t change the fact that she still wants a banana split.”

4th St Diner Employee:  “Try Häagen-Dazs”
Me:  “Is that that thing you do when giving birth?”

4th St
Diner Employee looks confused.

Emily:  (to 4th St Diner Employee) “I’m not pregnant.”


Emily, who surprisingly has not given up on helping me yet, continues with me to a frozen water ice place.

There’s a long line, but no one seems to know how a line works, so I but in front…

Me:  “Do you have banana splits?”
Frozen Lady:  “No.”
Me:  “Any idea where I can get one for my pregnant wife?”

Emily, who is learning, is still way in the back of the line.  She’s ducked down hiding now.  I try to point her out but fear that the Frozen Lady thinks I was pointing to a fat balding man.  I don’t correct her, but it bothers me the rest of the day.

Frozen Lady:  Johnny Rockets?”
Me:  “Is that that thing you do when giving birth?”


We walk into Johnny Rockets.  We sit at the counter.  I look at the menu and quickly see they have no banana splits.  Come on!

Me:  “Any chance of getting a banana split for the old preggers battle axe here?”
Waiter:  “Huh?”
Me:  “Do you know where the Häagen-Dazs is?”


Me:  “Do you…”
Emily:  (cutting me off) “Do you have a banana split for my platonic friend?”

The girl behind the counter looks at us weirdly.

Me:  “She’s into chicks.”
Girl:  “We don’t.  But if you buy a banana across the street we could make one.”
Me:  “At the tattoo parlor?”
Girl:  “The convenient store.”
Me:  “Oh.  That makes more sense.”


I pick up a banana.

Me:  “Are these things OK for pregnant broads to eat?”
Emily:  “I’ll have a pack of cigarettes and a beer.”


I hand over the banana.  The girl takes it and goes to make a banana split and turns back…

Girl:  “Oh.  We don’t have chocolate sauce.”
Me:  “Can’t you take some chocolate and melt it?”
Girl:  “Do you have a lighter?”
Me:  “I’ll take an ice cream cone.
Emily:  “Quitter.”


I am sitting eating my ice cream cone while it drips all over.

Me:  “Give me a banana split.”
Tattoo Artist:  “Banana split?  Is that that thing you do when giving birth?”


Also, I performed two shows that night after eating a TON of ice cream.  And I barely crapped my pants.


Also, most facts were changed to protect the innocent. 


Also, they were out of banana tattoos!  DAMMIT!

Friday, May 18, 2012



God Bless the great "Thinkers" in the I.T. Dept!!!

They were able to salvage EVERYTHING from my computer, including my journal. 

No word yet on whether they are getting me a pretzel.

LOST: Journal & Free Pretzels

So my computer crashed.  Not my glorious Mac at home.  But my shitty PC at work.  Seriously with the PC’s!  I lost EVERYTHING!  Not my work stuff, as that’s saved on a network.  But everything on my desktop, which includes (but is not limited to) my journal. 

A guy who keeps a journal?  Yeah.  I have a shitty memory.  So sue me.

Here we are May 18th and I lost EVERYTHING I did since December 31st 2011.  It’s like I’ve done nothing at all!  “Hey Kevin, remember when we…”  Nope.  But I’ll you’re your word for it.  There is something freeing about “living forward.”  However it still leaves me with a shitty memory (I had future plans written on the journal).  So now I’m certain to miss a few things - apologies in advance.

Now, I’m debating starting a new journal.  Maybe I should revive the art of long hand.  I used to write one that I stopped just about the time I got married (10 years ago in two weeks).  One of my last writings was in the Florida Keys.  Next week, Julie & I will be in Aruba for our anniversary.  I still have the same journal.  Maybe I’ll just start it back up as if nothing happened.  Someday my kids will read it and ask, Dad, what did you do for 10 years?”  I’ll be able to look them in the eyes and say “I honestly don’t remember.”

As stated above, I also used the journal as a calendar to schedule things.  Like going to the beach which I haven’t done in two years – yes I was on a beach for about 30 minutes last summer when Kerry came along and made us leave (she’s not invited to Aruba).  There are other things too; important things on that calendar.  “Like what,” you ask?  I DON’T KNOW!  I CAN’T REMEMBER. 

This is a lesson for me.  Not to back up my computer – although I had to completely redo my resume because of the loss (can’t continue working for a company that has such shitty computers) – but to stretch out my memory a little bit more.  Maybe I have too many crutches.  Maybe these little things are contributing to my terrible memory.  I could do a little experiment and go without calendars and journals and such for a few weeks…but my fear is I’ll forget it’s an experiment and just keep living an uninformed life.

To make matters worse, my work place discontinued “Free Pretzel Friday.”  That’s a bummer.  It was one of my favorite vices for the week.  I’m hoping that my two problems cancel each other out and in about two weeks time, I completely have forgotten about the “Free Pretzels.”

Wait, what was I saying?

Thursday, May 10, 2012

The ART Game

Driving into work this morning, I saw gas was $4.19 a gallon at a gas station.  This is where we are heading - but while we’re heading there, let’s look at some pricey art!

Some of these pieces sold recently at auction (mostly Sotheby’s).  Can you match the art work with the price tag? 
(Answers will be posted in the comment section)

Francis Bacon's "Figure Writing Reflected in Mirror"

Roy Lichtenstein's "Sleeping Girl,"

Roy Lichtenstein's "I Can See the Whole Room!  

Edvard Munch's "The Scream"

Mark Rothko's "Orange, Red, Yellow"

Andy Warhol's "Double Elvis"

Andy Warhol’s "Green Car Crash — Green Burning Car I,"

Ai Weiwei's "Sunflower Seeds”

Ai Weiwei's "Chandelier"
A - $657,000
B - $782,500
C - $37,000,000
D - $43,200,000
E - $44,882,500
F - $44,882,500
G - $71,700,000
H - $86,800,000
I - $119,900,000

Monday, May 7, 2012

Hüsker Dü’s & Dön’t’s of Life

Question:  Listening to Hüsker Dü?
Answer:  Dön’t

This has been the Hüsker Dü’s & Dön’t’s of Life

Friday, May 4, 2012

Geographically Challenged - aka, where did I put my keys?

So in about a month, I’ll be here:

Don’t be jealous, because given Aruba’s track record, it’ll probably look like this:

I have never been good at Geography.  If I was kidnapped and being tortured, I could probably put all the states in their proper place on a map of The United States, as long as the states were labeled & cut out in state shaped puzzle pieces.  Pretty colors wouldn’t hurt either, but that’s more for the aesthetics.

You:  “Kevin, how do you get to your house?”
Me:  “Go down the road for a while, turn right at the second light.  Go through another traffic light and right at the one after that.  Go a little bit and turn right before the train tracks.”
You:  “What are the names of these streets?”
Me:  “What am I, fucking Magellan?”

My problem has always been, I know how to get places, I just don’t know how to tell others how to.  That said I almost NEVER know where I am physically in the universe. 

So yesterday I pulled up this map of Aruba to see where I’ll be in a month:

*That’s in honor of Cinco de Mayo Eve or more appropriately Cinco de Mayo Víspera

This is AWFULLY close to South America.  That’s where real pirates live!!!

So now all I can think of is if I’m kidnapped by pirates.  If I am, I hope they look like this:

But it would be more likely if they look like this:

If I am kidnapped and taken to Columbia to be a sex slave, I’ll have one thing working in my favor:  The League was HUGELY popular in Columbia (this is true, I can show you our website traffic).  I don’t think they’ll be forcing the guy who coined the phrase “Cop-a-feel for Copperfield” to be a Caribbean sex slave?

But if I am, I hope it’s with this pirate:
I wouldn’t mind putting her “states in their proper place.”