John Mayer As Role Model

I like John Mayer. I like how he sings. I like how he plays guitar (amazing). I like the songs he writes and performs. That he was a viewer growing up only adds to my fun.

We met and spoke a few years ago. I immediately liked him as a person. He’s really smart… really thoughtful.

Earlier today Helaine pointed to an entry in John’s blog. Whatever I thought before, I feel more now!

I’m taking to the blog today to share something with you that I feel more passionate about than I saw coming.

I want to make it short and sweet so that anybody who wants to re-print it can copy and paste without editing…

Went out to dinner Thursday night. My car. One glass of wine. Carpooled from dinner to go out to one more place. Everyone in my car. At the next spot, I do the Diet Coke with Lime thing. My favorite scotch (Lagavulin 16 year) arrives under my nose. “Can’t do it,” I say. Then I find out my friend has switched to Designated Driver and has a plan that involves everyone getting home safe. Cool. I love Lagavulin when the time is right. Now it’s the end of the night and I’m feeling wonderfully buzzy and ready to get dropped off to my house in my car, except the person that was going to follow my car in the DD’s car to drive him back isn’t in shape to drive either.

It’s 2 o’clock in the morning. I call my housemate Chad. Chad’s sleeping. He was in the studio all day. I explain to him that I need him to jump in the back seat of my car, ride to the DD’s car and drive me back home. Of course Chad says “yes” and comes through like a champ. A champ, I say.

Here’s what I want to tell you:

If I, incredibly hot/fugly John Mayer can make that call, so can you.

The distance from the parking lot to my house was about 5 miles, mostly straight shot up the coast of Santa Monica, zero traffic. And I didn’t drive it. Me. The guy who gets the VIP velvet rope treatment in life.

Oh, and the call? It’s not the coolest you’ll ever sound. And the logistics? It’s kind of inelegant. You trace the same route twice when all you want to do is fall into bed. But you gotta do it.

This is all coming from a guy who you can be sure would have found a sexier way to get home if there was one available. And there just isn’t, especially in LA. (You can be sexy again the next day when you wake up with the rest of your big, beautiful life in front of you.)

I’m not writing this to earn golf claps, it’s just that if I’m going to stand in any way as an ambassador of something cool or influential, this is more important than any pair of sneakers or a guitar.

And to give a big high five to the Chads of the world.

See you around

JM

There’s no obligation for a rock or sports or movie star (or even a weatherman) to be a role model. By the time you’re old enough to be one, you have no choice. You were either brought up that way or you weren’t.

Just Call Me Geoff

Over time, more and more people have taken to calling me Mr. Fox. It’s a little disturbing, because I don’t want to be that old.

I usually tell them, “My name is Geoff. Mr Fox lives in a condo in Florida.”

Of course Mr. is the least of the titles you can have with your name. You could be Dr., or Rev., or Senator, or… well the list is nearly endless.

A few years ago, while perusing the British Airways website I came across their choice of titles. I saw the list cited today on another website and thought I’d post it here – just for fun.

Some are so obscure, I have no idea what they could possibly be. I do know, few holders of these titles will ever be flying with me in Row 39, aft of the wing.

Click the list and choose a title. They’re free.

John Bolton, The Surprise

John Bolton was Jon Stewart’s guest tonight on Comedy Central. It is difficult to imagine a stranger juxtaposition. Stewart had been relentless in his attacks and, quite honestly, former United Nations Ambassador Bolton was an easy target.

The Secretariat building in New York has 38 stories. If you lost ten stories today, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference.

Why did John Bolton agree to appear? He had to have known how Stewart had skewered him and how the audience would respond to his mere presence?

Now I know. Bolton has cojones!

He was every bit Stewart’s equal in the debate. He was glib. He was prepared. He gave no ground. He was very impressive in the heat of verbal battle.

As the segment ended, it was clear he had won Jon Stewart’s respect.

He was not the caricature Stewart expected. He surely wasn’t the caricature I expected.

Mazatlan and Jorge – Another Great Day

Aboard the Norwegian Star

I’m not a light sleeper, so the captain speaks up when he comes on the P.A. early each morning we’re in port. This morning he addressed us at 7:30 AM.

In spite of being in Mazatlan, the spa will be open. He will be there. Too much information.

I assume the captain is Norwegian. Should I meet him, he will be the first Norwegian I’ve run into! Same thing goes for the United States and Mexico.

The crew is very much like the United Nations with a few critical expulsions.

We are in Mazatlan. I knew there was a city named Mazatlan, but nothing else. Shame on me. It’s too large not to know. This is a city of 700,000 (source – cabdriver).

Looking off the balcony this morning, I saw a small city… until I pierced the haze. There in the distance, tall buildings that usually accompany larger populations (I have enhanced the photo which reduces the haze and lets you better see the distant skyline).

I’m not sure if the haze is a product of pollution or the local geography. Some cities can be naturally hazy (Los Angeles), though pollutants can make it much worse.

Steffie was still tired, so Helaine and I headed up to Deck 12 for breakfast. It is cafeteria style up there, but still tasty. And there was no problem bringing a full plate back to our cabin on Deck 11.

Have I mentioned the stairs? I wish I had a pedometer. We have been walking stairs like crazy. Each of us climbs and descends dozens of floors worth of steps. Sure, I huff and puff when I reach our room, but isn’t that OK after climbing six or seven flights?

Today was going to be a beach day. We stopped at the reception desk to ask where to go. Hotels and shopping were in the Golden Zone, we were told.

Since we’re in an industrial port, with lots of activity, including auto imports, we got on the mandatory, but free, shuttle, which brought us to the main gate. From there we hopped a cab.

The sign said the fare to the Golden Zone was $10, so I never verified it. When we got to our destination, $12! My fault for not asking. Of course I was taken. Was it worth kvetching in a foreign land with limited time?

We got out, walked to the sidewalk, and about three feet later Helaine and Stef walked into a store selling silver and other things you buy in foreign ports. Stef got a few little rings.

We walked down the main drag toward the Casa de Oro, stopping again in an area of small mom and pop shops. Stef bought something else, while Helaine and I bought a ceramic Sun. We have a small collection. This one was 100 pesos – $10.

We had been told on the ship we’d be welcome to use the facilities and beach at the Casa de Oro. We never announced our arrival and they never asked.

Considering this was a mystery resort, what we saw was a pleasant surprise. We walked through the lobby and between hotel buildings, following signs to the “playa/beach.”

The pool was built adjacent to a retaining wall at the beach. It was really beautiful and the people there looked to be relaxed and having a good time. Next to the pool were a bar and restaurant.

We made our way to the beach, to a man sitting in his ‘office’ under an umbrella. Did he have wave runners to rent? You bet!

I rented two, one for me and one for Stef, and we set out to explore the bay. There was just enough wave action and chop to make it an exciting ride.

The bay itself was large and bounded by hilly islands. Criss crossing the water were other wave runners, sail boats and power boats, some towing tourists harnessed into parachutes.

As we began Stef was a little apprehensive and followed me. Before we were done she was leading the way, forcing me to ‘gun it’ to keep up.

I don’t know that much about wave runners, but I do know we went fast and neither of us had the guts to really let them run! I can’t imagine.

As we cut across the bay, our little jets would jump out of the water, throwing spray in our faces. Behind us, a tail of water shot high into the air.

This was very cool.

I know it wasn’t Steffie’s first thought for a good time. That changed by the time we were done.

Helaine, not wanting to ride in the bay, stayed on the shore, looking for shade and clicking away. I had put the longer lens on ‘Clicky’ and Helaine took advantage.

I’m sure there will be more than a few shots worth framing from a day Steffie and I will long remember.

We headed back through the hotel, looking to find a cab. Here in Mazatlan there is a strange looking, open air vehicle, used as a taxi. If you recognize what this was when it started life, let me know. There are no identifying marks – as if the manufacturer wanted to disavow all knowledge of its Mazatlan usage.

I told the girls I wanted to go back in one of those cabs. No sooner did I say that than Jorge pulled up to the curb.

I checked. Jorge wanted $10 to go to the ship, so we jumped in – Helaine and Stef in the back, me in the front passenger seat.

As we drove, I stuck my body to the right, out of the vehicle, and took photos. It didn’t take Jorge long to notice. Before long we were slowing down for anything vaguely resembling a photo op.

We passed the university and headed into the hills. Ships don’t dock above sea level, but we didn’t question Jorge. Up we drove, until we rounded a curve and Jorge slowed to a stop.

We were at the edge of a hill with an unbelievable view of the buildings below and our beautiful ship.

I’m glad I have this shot, because it is really the first time I’ve been able to show the ship in perspective. It is a behemoth – and I think you sense that looking at the size of things in the foreground.

The Norwegian Star is longer than three football fields, has fourteen decks I know of, and is carrying 3,000 souls.

Every time it docks, it is as if a small town had floated into town!

Jorge (note the Red Sox hat) asked for $10, but got $15. He is the kind of good will ambassador any tourist town needs. I speak no Spanish and I think Jorge matches me in English.

Stef was my reluctant translator, feeding me the words to ask Jorge for his name. That was the sum of our communication, except for my ‘muchos gracias’ at the dock.

We’re back on board now. The captain says we’ll be leaving in a few minutes. No word on his spa treatment. I’ll let you know should there be late breaking spa news.

Tonight it’s a slow sail northwest to the tip of Baja California, Cabo San Lucas.

Meanwhile, we still have dinner to eat, and another chance to see Dave Heenan, the comedian. Steffie says we should take in both his shows.

Hey, isn’t that what vacations are for?

Blogger’s note: As I put the finishing touches on this entry, at the computer area, a couple sat down at a nearby terminal. While I typed, he showed her an email – and she went a little nuts.

As far as I can tell their son has accepted an athletic scholarship to Cal Poly. He must have been heavily recruited by more expensive and prestigious schools.

Mom was very upset – very. I will spare you quoting her opinion of her son and Cal Poly. She will not get a humanitarian award based on this evening, and this cruise will not end on a pleasant note for them.

I suppose having access to the outside world is both good and bad.

Football Season Ends

The Eagles lost another one last night, falling to the Washington Redskins. The Eagles are now dead last in their division.

One of the Eagles’ problems was the missing Terrell Owens. Owens has been the team’s biggest star and biggest problem child, all at once.

He has criticized his fellow players and coaches and, it seems, taken a swing at a former player who is considered the team’s “ambassador.” Now he has been suspended.

Good going Terrell.

From The Associated Press: This was the second time Owens has been suspended during his controversial 10-year career. In 2000, he was suspended one game by San Francisco coach Steve Mariucci following his infamous touchdown celebrations on the Dallas Cowboys’ famed star logo at the center of Texas Stadium.

Owens clashed with management this summer and earned a one-week exile from training camp after a heated dispute with Reid that followed a shouting match with offensive coordinator Brad Childress.

As a kid I thought my sports heroes were heroes in real life as well. It’s not so. I was innocent. Players like Terrell Owens just go to reinforce that realization.

Owens is now suspended and it’s doubtful he’ll ever play for the Eagles again. He’ll probably find another team sometime soon.

The real shame is, I’m not sure he’s capable of being happy. I’ve known people like that… worked with people like that. It’s no fun. They become their own worst enemy. There’s no doubt that description applies to Owens.

Meanwhile. as an Eagles fan, the season seems to have ended early.

Going On The Radio

Every once in a while I appear on a radio show. That’s always enjoyable. My roots, rotted as they are, are in radio.

Monday morning, however, will be different. Monday I’ll be on the radio as a sub as opposed to a guest. I’ll be attempting to do what Ray Dunaway does on WTIC.

Among the guests booked for the show are Senator Joe Lieberman, Attorney Gerry Spence (he’s the homespun guy from Wyoming who wear a suede leather vest all the time) and Barbara Walters (not yet confirmed).

I know I’m a weatherman, but I don’t want to be a pushover to those who are used to answering tough questions and have perfect the dart and weave.

I won’t be alone. I’ll be co-hosting with Ray’s regular co-host, Diane Smith.

I’ve known Diane since I came to Connecticut. Before radio, she was an anchor with us on the TV station. I have referred to her, with reverence, as the Ambassador from Gracious Living and our Ambassador to Fairfield County. Take your pick.

Diane is classy everywhere I’m crude – which is nearly everywhere.

Doing this early morning show; being at the radio station before 6:00 AM is actually better and easier than going somewhere for the midday shift. I know I can be home by 11:00 and catch a nap before my real work begins.

Radio’s in my blood.

John Bolton

What is going on here? This was the ultimate “us” versus “them” appointment by the Bush administration. John Bolton, their designee to be United Nations Ambassador, is a man reviled by Democrats with a well documented career and strong opinions (including some spoken in front of rolling camera, now distributed by liberal groups).

But what could the Democrats do? They are a true minority party and have virtually no power on Capitol Hill at the moment.

Then, last night, a Republican senator started getting cold feet. From FoxNews.com:

Tuesday’s meeting came to a surprising halt when Sen. George Voinovich (search), R-Ohio, suggested he wasn’t “comfortable” voting for Bolton in light of new allegations that some members said they hadn’t had time to investigate.

“I’ve heard enough today that I don’t feel comfortable voting for Mr. Bolton. I think one’s interpersonal skills and their relationships with their fellow man is a very important ingredient [in] anyone that works for me,” Voinovich said.

I won’t discuss the merits of Bolton’s nomination. I don’t want partisan politics here on my blog. My interest is the process, not the merits of the appointment.

However, this is a stunning turn of events. It will be very interesting to see how this plays out, as it has become more than a simple nomination. This is now a test of the mettle of the Bush administration and their ability to rally, maybe even control, other Republicans.

There is no chance anyone could have predicted this nomination would end up in political limbo. Stay tuned.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

This is one of my favorite expressions: “No good deed goes unpunished.”&#185 It speaks to the law of unintended consequences. Let me give you today’s example.

A few years ago, my cell service provider was AT&T Wireless. I’m sure they’re lovely people, good to their families, active in their church. To me, running a cell phone company was not among their strong points.

AT&T had this strange way of dropping calls. Granted, every cell phone provider has ways to tick off its customers – but AT&T’s was special to me.

Technically, as you drive around with a cell phone, it transmits to different cell sites as signals and conditions vary. The handoff from one site to another is a complex dance choreographed at the cell sites with instructions relayed back to your phone. AT&T’s equipment seemed to be set in such a way that by the time they got around to telling your phone to switch, you were often already unable to hear the site – and the call would drop. There were favorite locations where this would happen like clockwork.

Once your cellphone has dropped the call, it becomes free to hunt on its own for the best cell site. So, what I would often experience on AT&T was a call that became unusable with low signal – that frustrating period when all you say is “can you hear me?” After a period of time the call would disconnect. As soon as it did, the signal bars on the phone would jump up to full scale.

So, even in areas where there was good signal, because of how their cell sites were configured, AT&T would drop my call. Now that’s a business plan!

It finally got to the point where I had to make a change and went to Cingular. Even without service at my home, Cingular was a better deal because my calls from the car were more likely to work.

Recently, Cingular made an offer for AT&T Wireless and will buy it. And, in what should be a nice gesture, Cingular has integrated AT&T’s network into the system – giving me access to those towers along with Cingular’s. I have service at home because it’s an AT&T tower.

Unfortunately, AT&T’s dropped call problems have now moved to Cingular. That’s right – the addition of all these new towers, all this new coverage, has meant more dropped calls!

Because the AT&T sites show up differently on my phone (it shows Cingular Extend instead of just Cingular) I can see whose service I am not getting when the calls drop – or when I ride around with unusable service in an area that used to be just fine. The problem is with the AT&T sites.

I’d like to call Cingular and tell them, but anyone with the ability to act or even understand this problem is totally hidden from the pubic. Try finding an email address. Try finding a contact for snail mail. It’s impossible.

Cingular is not alone. Many companies have discovered that dealing with their customers after the sale is expensive with little quantifiable financial upside – so they hide as best they can.

The local Cingular office (and I know folks from there who read this blog) has always been very nice and helpful as can be. Unfortunately, they too are totally removed from the actual operation of the company (in fact most of the ‘showrooms’ that say “Cingular” in big letters are neither owned nor run by Cingular).

Here’s the tragic part. When Cingular made this move to allow me the use of AT&T Wirelesses towers, they thought their customers would benefit. And, in some small ways we have. After all, I now have service at home. But the biggest effect has been to lessen the coverage and frustrate this customer.

&#185 – The quote is from Clare Boothe Luce. Here’s how the Library of Congress characterizes here: Talented, wealthy, beautiful, and controversial, Clare Boothe Luce (1903-1987) is best remembered as a congresswoman (1942-1946), ambassador, playwright, socialite, and spouse of magazine magnate Henry R. Luce of Time-Life-Fortune.