Monthly Archives: July 2002

Whatyoutalkin'about, Willis?

Okay. I thought I was seeing things when I had my brief stint with television a few weeks ago. Something called, “The Rerun Show.”

When I first saw this on the glass teat, I thought, “Hey, wow, television’s doing self parody! That’s great.”

Little did I know how wrong I was. These are television shows reenacted word for word. It’s the same scripts, different actors.

“The Rerun Show” revisits classic TV moments when a talented ensemble cast reinacts episodes of some of America¬ís favorite TV shows with a contemporary comic twist.

And yes, I know that “reinact” is spelled incorrectly. I’m taking it word for word from NBC’s website.

Public Service Announcement: Ladies and gentlemen, television has reached its saturation point. No further innovation is possible. I advise everyone to go out and perform one or more of the following activities: Play some pool. Read. Become regulars at a bar somewhere. Visit a museum. Drink sangria. Try all you can eat sushi. Play some games. Watch movies with friends.

Choose what you want to be entertained by, when you want. The networks have given up trying to entertain you.

You’re going to have to go out and do it yourself.

No, no, really, it's no trouble at all

My mother called last night.

Mom: Hi! I’m coming down on Friday night. I’ll be staying with you on Saturday and Sunday, until your father comes down on Monday.
Me: “Uh, okay.”

Which gives me a few days of lead time to get my house in shape. It’s my mother, you know? And, as Yuriko Kinje pointed out, “Well, I guess that’s better than just showing up, hey?”

Don’t get me wrong–I don’t mind my mother coming down. The main thing is that I have to clean my apartment. And honestly, if you’ve ever seen my apartment, you’d know that I need more than five days of lead time to get it clean.

I don’t get to see my family a lot. We’re on separate coasts. So it’s nice when I get to see my mother and father at the same time. Only thing is–my brother’s in summer session down at CalPoly, otherwise this would have been a great reunion of my nuclear family. My brother is the only one that I can talk to on a near daily basis, seeing as how he and I are basically logged on twenty-four-seven.

Long weekend

I really, really, just want to get some decent sleep. Tomorrow’s an early day at work, so I guess it’ll have to wait another night.

Well, if you're in the neighborhood and want some pie

The Diner isn’t a bad spot to go. Filled with the beautiful twenty-nothing dregs of early bar crawl, the candle and projection television lit Diner offers a lively atmosphere in which to ingest pie. Nisa was looking forward to some Key Lime, but alas, of the three flavors of pie offered, Key Lime was depressingly absent.

Ah well. “Sometimes, you pick pie. Sometimes, pie picks you.”

Tonight’s contestants were Sour Cherry, Apple, and Coconut Custard. Fortunately, there were three of us, so we each had slice of pie to investigate. Nisa had her apple pie, A La Mode. Terrapingardens and I went for straight pie, he the sour cherry, myself, the coconut custard.

The coconut custard was served slightly chilled, with two small dollops of whipped cream on either side. The temperature was pleasant, although I don’t think it helped the pie. It was like eating a large macaroon. Chewing through a lot of coconut I found it not so custard like, but fortunately not overwhelmingly coconut flavored. Not an exceedingly sweet pie, which worked in its favor. I was expecting a bit of custard from something named “Coconut Custard Pie” on the menu, but oh well. Perhaps it should be called “Coconut Macaroon Pie.” The crust was a little bland, and about halfway through the pie, it seemed a little reminiscent of the refrigerator. Wasn’t too happy with it at that point–at which I merely stopped eating it.

We spoke with the curt, not so service oriented waiter, who tersely informed us (after not bringing something that we ordered) that they are not baked on the premises, they are removed from their boxes. Service, at least with our waiter, was not The Diner’s strong point.

Pie Score (Out of 10): 5

But damn if the burgers didn’t smell incredibly good. Despite the nineteen million pounds of ground beef that were recently recalled, I really wanted one of their burgers. Nisa ushered us two carnivores out before there was any sort of incident.

Conclusion: Average pie in a trendy pseudo diner atmosphere. It’s quite inexpensive as well. Pie’s three bucks. Add ice cream, and it’s another buck. If you happen to be in the area and you want pie with some ice cream, go for it. Otherwise, it’s not worth going out of your way or writing home about. Which, ironically I happen to be doing here.

Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I'm not afraid.

So, terrapingardens and I have made it our quest to discover the best pie in the district. I had a similar, but different quest when I was younger. It was to find the best nachos in the District. That quest has fallen by the wayside, but I do remember Kramerbooks and Cheesecake factory having pretty good ones.

Why pie? Maybe this will explain. Then again, maybe it won’t.

First stop.

The Duplex Diner. I don’t know where the hell The Duplex is.