Rants and Raves Revisited Volume 1 Issue 4

Hello everyone and welcome to issue four of R and R squared. (The math teacher in me will never die). I hope you have been enjoying the daily offering on the blog so far this month. I am hoping that my long-held theory of the ‘busier I am, the more productive I will become’ holds true so I can go from the brainstorming/outlining stage to the actually writing my memoir stage very soon. I hope you dig the random assortment of items below. My crackerjack team of staffers enjoyed gathering them for you. Happy reading.

TMI Alert. For the past three to four months I have been fighting a losing battle with a persistent, itchy growth on the side of my scalp that looks like dandruff would if it met Greg Anderson and Victor Conte during Balco’s heyday (that’s a steroid reference, Maureen). The continent sized crust and flakes got so out of control two weeks ago that Fehmeen took it upon herself to book me a dermatologist appointment. It took the doctor all of ten seconds to inform me that I have cradle cap (How do ya like them apples, Emma. I find it odd that Dad gets cradle cap and the infant doesn’t). She suggested I brush the affected area with a soft-bristled toothbrush when my hair is wet in the shower and wash my hair with a dandruff shampoo. After about a week, when the crust is gone, apply a topical solution to that same area until the scalp heals. Well, two weeks into treatment and my head looks a thousand times better; I estimate it at about 80% cleared up. Thanks, Doc. Maybe I should hit her up for her advice on curing ALS.

Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen. Does The Office really need to have eighteen (count ’em, I did) credited producers (executive, consulting, associate, adjectiveless, etc) to churn out this blase mess of a season? That turns out to be 1.2777777777 producers per minute of airtime. (Once a math geek, always a math geek).

It’s a Small World After All. As I was thumbing through the 2008 edition of the San Carlos Chamber of Commerce booklet the other morning at breakfast, I noticed that the beautiful exterior cover art was painted by a man named Alvin Joe. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that my landlord for the seven years while I lived in Burlingame was such an amazing painter. If you ever see the painting, I believe that you will be able to see my rent money somewhere on that canvas.

A Profound Apology. You know how when a person participates in a twelve step program and one of those twelve steps is to formally apologize to everyone who that person has wronged? Well, here goes mine (although I am not enrolled in any program). I, Jason ‘ALS Boy’ Picetti, would like to extend a most sincere and heartfelt apology to anyone who I forced to watch the movie Spirit of ’76. This most likely includes anyone with whom I partied a bit in the early 90’s and then required them to endure the next ninety (or so) minutes of their not quite sober at the time of viewing lives when I pressed play on my trusty VCR. If you happened to miss this cinematic rhinestone, here’s a quick summary: In the year 2076, American culture and history has been erased. A team intends to use a time machine to return to 1776 in order to pick up artifacts in order to reestablish that which has been lost. All goes according to plan except instead of landing in 1776, they end up in 1976. You know, disco, leisure suits, Pop Rocks, Pintos, Pacers, and on and on. I made the mistake of watching it last night on our 37″ LG tv while Fehmeen organized our dvd collection. All I can say is what the heck was I smoking back then? Ah, never mind.

All That and an Order of Fries, Too. I went to see a dentist in Berkeley a few weeks ago in order to have a fitting and ultimately take home my palatal lift prosthetic device (It’s a retainer-like device that pushes up one’s soft palate in order to help one speak more clearly, if you were wondering). Because his office is located on the second floor of an elevatorless building, the dentist came out to the car in the parking lot to test my device. What a cool concept: drive-thru dentistry.

As the Bug Turns. It’s official: Emma has begun to crawl. Granted, she needs some kind of incentive to prompt her to move forward, but hey, whatever’s clever, and our girl’s gotta move. The funniest thing is when she tries to crawl but doesn’t get all the movements coordinated, she looks like she’s humping the carpet. It’s both hilarious and disturbing at the same time. Emma, Daddy is very sorry for outing you as a humper but he couldn’t resist, it just cracks him up.

All right, ladies and gents, that’s all I’ve got today. I’m off to listen to some vinyl. Ahhh, bliss. Late.

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