ShamPow! Slap! Chop!

Regular readers may have noticed I've written a couple posts (here and here) about Vince Offer, the pitchman behind the ShamWOW cloths and the ubiquitous Slap Chop kitchen device. For whatever reason, the guy both annoys me and fascinates me at the same time.

Well, it seems Offer (his real last name is actually Shlomi), has gotten himself into a bit of trouble. Here's a clip from an article that ran on the Smoking Gun a few days ago:

Shlomi, 44, was arrested last month on a felony battery charge following a violent confrontation with a prostitute in his South Beach hotel room. According to an arrest affidavit, Shlomi met Sasha Harris, 26, at a Miami Beach nightclub on February 7 and subsequently retired with her to his $750 room at the lavish Setai hotel . . . Shlomi said that when he kissed Harris, she suddenly "bit his tongue and would not let go." Shlomi then punched Harris several times until she released his tongue.

Wow, what a great guy! Now I really want to buy his crummy products! And he's 44? Dude looks good for 44.

You can read the full article over here at the Smoking Gun's website.

Maybe there won't be another empty store in Bishop's Corner

A couple of weeks ago, news dropped that the Whole Foods in Bishop's Corner, due to a settlement with the FTC, would have to be sold. This news lead some, including myself, to wonder if this would mean another empty storefront in the already spotty shopping district, where empty buildings are becoming a very common sight.

But while shopping at Whole Foods today, I came across the market's official press release on the subject. And, while the company does need to try to sell the space to another vendor, there's a very good chance Whole Foods will be around in the space for many years to come. From the release:

If no buyer comes forward within the next six months, then Whole Foods Market will continue to serve you at this store and will offer the great products and customer service you have come to expect from us.

I suppose time will tell in this situation.

Vanishing sidewalk goldrush

This will be the last vanishing sidewalk post for a bit. I think I may be going a bit overboard lately. I need to curtail the curb hunt. Tuck away the footway.

Until then, let me leave you with two more discoveries. The first is probably the only vanishing sidewalk that makes a whole lot of sense. It's located on Park Road, right before the on-ramp for 84:

At least here I can see the reasoning behind the decision to end the path where they did.

"What're you doing over there? You're gonna make people walk straight onto the highway!"

"Dang, you're right. What should I do?"

"Just stop your work where you are. They'll know not to go any further."

"Should I pull up what I started? I think -"

"I ain't paying you to think!"

Anyway . . .

The second location just may be the motherload of vanishing sidewalks: Fairfield Road. The good folks over at Connecticut Museum Quest pointed me in the right direction here. Wow, there are a lot of vanishing sidewalks in this area!

Here's the corner of Fairfield with Plainfield Road (what boring names for streets. "Hey, what're you going to name your road? Mine's Fairfield." "Oh, I don't know . . . Plain . . . field?" "Man, you're a genius."):

(I should note that all of the images in this post are from Google Street View. It's too rainy here in West Hartford today to go out with the camera.)

A little further up Fairfield, at the intersection with Longlane Road (another brilliantly named stretch of pavement), you get a vanishing sidewalk on three corners. Here's just one:

When Fairfield ends at Lostbrook Road (finally, a cool road name), there's another vanishing sidewalk:

That's a lot of vanishing sidewalks for one road.

Good intentions

I swear I intended to post earlier today. I really did. Cross my heart. 

It was going to be a wonderful little piece about my reconnaissance visit to our new plot at the community garden. How the Professor and I discovered what the previous renter planted. How we walked around Westmoor Park and listened to the tree frogs as the sun slowly hovered on the horizon.

It was going to be a good little post.

But I instead went up to Massachusetts to help my father-in-law de-nail (technical term?) lumber. And my hands are now raw and pained as I type. The back of my neck is crisp. My eyelids are heavy. My eyeballs sting.

I swear some of the boards I was pulling nails from had been used for crucifixions centuries ago. The nails looked older than time.

So, in lieu of a nice post about discovering our new garden space, I will leave you with this picture. It isn't much to look at, but I hope it becomes something nice over the next few months:

Things thought at 3:45 AM

Rough time sleeping last night. The bacon cheeseburger from Plan B did me in. I found myself awake at 3:45 a.m., my mind wandering.

Here's what I remember thinking about:

1. New issue of the West Hartford News to look forward to tomorrow. Will the writing will still be horrible?

The answer, as I just learned when I got my mail, is yes. Well, maybe not as bad as two weeks ago, but still pretty poor.

2. I really don't want to break up with my landlord.

The Professor and I made the decision to move, even though we hate the thought of packing everything up to move a mile away. 

On my way home from work today I decided to make the phone call and tell our landlord the bad news. I hate making that phone call. But I followed through with it. I even went into a "it's not you, it's me" run. Not fun. 

But, like a band-aid, I tore it quickly.

She was completely blind-sided by the news.

3. How can one tell if they are in an Italian horror film?

Yes, this was something I was thinking about at 4 o'clock this morning. And I came up with a five-point yes/no checklist. Essentially, if you can answer 'yes' to at least three of these statements, you may actually be part of an Italian horror film:

1. I live or work in a building that has enough space for a hidden room, where someone may be conducting experiments or planning horrible actions against me or my roommates/co-workers.

2. I speak Italian and am an attractive female (or the boyfriend of an attractive female).

3. My life seems to have a heavy metal soundtrack that is heavy on Judas Priest, Iron Maiden and Goblin.

4. I live in a Technicolor wonderland.

5. Someone is trying to kill me. 

I am bleary-eyed. I'm going to go crash for a bit.

Farmer trailing spouse

The Professor went out this morning and got us a 20' x 20' (I just had a Spinal Tap Stonehenge moment there for a second) community garden space over at Westmoor Park. She has big plans. Lots of vegetables. She's already mapped it all out. 

Me? I'm just looking forward to breaking out my overalls and saying things like  "thick as ticks on a dog's back."

$25 for the plot. Pretty good deal. If anyone out there is interested, they should move fast. Spaces are getting snapped up quickly.

The green mile

I sent a friend over to the other side today.

It was my 13" Orion TV/VCR combo unit that my parents gave me as my high school graduation gift.

Sad day. In a very odd way, it was like losing a friend. I'd had it for 13 years.

The death of the Orion was slow and painful. About two or three years ago, it started to eat videotapes. Then, shortly after moving to Connecticut, it started to hum in a strange way. 

A month or so later, it wouldn't turn on. The hum turned to a scarier, electric buzz. That's when I unplugged it for good.

I spent a day looking online to try to diagnose the problem. I looked at parts to fix it, but the truth is I would have no idea what to do if I did get the right pieces.

So it was time to let the Orion go. And I wasn't about to ditch it in the bottom of a trash barrel.

                   

I strapped it into the passenger seat. Buckled it in for safety. Then I started the drive to Best Buy.

Along the way, we reminisced about the good times. The group that huddled around the television's glow for Super Bowl XXXI, when the Patriots got crushed. The mass amount of movies my budding cinephile mind watched over that tiny tube. The travels it made. Dorms. Apartments. Different states.

No more. Now the Orion was to be eCycled.

As I watched the Geek Squad tech carry the Orion away, I gave it a little salute. It's in a better place now. Maybe the plastic from its shell will become something important.

So long, friend.

Peeps show

I love marshmallow Peeps. I know most people find them disgusting, but there's something about a stiff Peep, left out of the package for a day or two, that brings me back to childhood.

And if there's one thing I like more than a tasty Peep, it's a contest using the little sugar wonders.

Just in time for Easter, the West Hartford Library is holding their first annual Peeps diorama contest. Sadly, it's only for kids. Nevertheless, I'm sure there will be some great and inventive entries. I have to assume the winners will be on display at some point.

If you've got a young Peep lover who is also into arts and crafts, follow this link to learn more.

If you just want to see cool Peep dioramas, check out this link to the Washington Post.