Sister, womyn, sister...

So I have a new addiction. Yes, move over Diet Coke (though not too far,) Tivo and Popsicles. I am not addicted to Utah's AM 820: Talk Radio for Women.

I guess I should say I am addicted to the WHOLE station. I can't think of anyone who I would less want to hear in the morning on my way to work than Kurt Bestor (yes, he hosts the AM talk show.) Why do people who have successful careers in LDS music think that we want to at all experience them outside of that forum? (I'm looking your way McLean. Quit acting!) Sure, sing "Prayer of the Children" with your overly synthesized voice. But please don't try and make me guess which famous person's birthday it is by using some clues you made up on the spot. Remember when you wanted me to guess Chris Noth and you said that he was on CSI. It's actually Law and Order.

There is also a program on in the PM where some special guy has callers call in and tell him about their dreams and then he interprets them. What is more boring than listening to someone describe a dream they had? NOTHING!! Do us all a favor, keep them to yourself.

Who I really love are 5 lovely sisters called the Satellite Sisters. (www.satellitesisters.com) Basically they are five sisters living in different cities (well three are in LA) who just talk about whatever. It sure sounds boring when I talk about it in a blog, but seriously, they is funny! The other day one of them was telling how she was making her son's lunch for school and realized she was out of bread. So what did she pack instead of a sandwich? A bag of shredded cheese. I almost wrecked my car I was laughing so hard.

I can't really do them justice in describing it. I think Amy is pretty sick of me coming home and telling her what funny thing I heard on the sisters that day. But trust me. Tune in any weekday from 3 to 6 and give a listen.

Ok. So this blog isn't funny. Do I have to be funny all of the time!? I just wanted to tell the shredded cheese story.

Ace of Base

Dear Ace-

Why are you still on the American Idol, Ace? I realize that I am a hetero male, and therefore, not your target audience, but seriously, who do you think you are fooling? You have an OK-ish voice, but we are so over the pleading eyes and the blushing cheeks that we can hardly watch anymore. At my house, we call you the Pleading Whipdog, because you always look tenderly at the audience as though you are a dog who was just harshly beaten. It is that look that says, "Please, I'm so tender and innocent. Just love me." 

We know, now, that you have a scar on your chest, but did you think that just because you point to it while singing about a scar that you would win us over? "Sweetie!" I would say to my wife, "Ace just sang a line about a scar, AND pointed to a REAL scar on his chest at the same time! Start text messaging those votes!" It may have one you some extra "one on one" time with Paula, but it didn't do you any favors at our house. Does Taylor point to his hair when he sings a song with the word "gray" in it? Does Bucky point to his teeth when singing a song with the word "snaggle" in it? Does Elliot point to his whole person when singing a song with "dufus" in it? No. EW had it right. No more literal hand gestures. 

How you are still on the show, we'll never know. I guess I don't ever vote, though so I can't complain about you, just like I can't complain about the President. Wait a minute, I did vote for him. Hey, Bush! What's up?!

In case you are wondering, Ace, we're rooting for Taylor. I would actually buy a Taylor CD. His voice is that good/interesting. I know, I know. I said I would actually buy a CD by Justin Guarini, too. And no, I didn't. But I did buy the Buddy Jewel CD AND the Brad Cotter CD, so I'm not all talk. (Those were the first two winners of Nashville Star, in case you were wondering.)

Anyway, you suck. Go home.

Love, 

The Binghams

PS. Tell Paris she looked like an Avon Lady/Jehovah's Witness last night. She's next after you

Oh, sweet mystery...

Yes, I know! I know I haven't written a blog since September and I am sorry. I have heard about it from many of you and I apologize. My goal for Ought-Six is one blog a month, so I thought I better get on the stick before February rolled around.

Here are the events that occurred in my life since my last blog that have prevented me from writing a new one:
1. We moved into a new home.
2. We had a baby (Noel) 4 days later. (And PS, it isn't pronounced like Christmas, it is pronounced like the boys' name Joel. And yes we named him after Noel on Felicity.)
3. We didn't sleep for a month.
4. Thanksgiving
5. Our new home flooded
6. Christmas
7. The subsequent repairs to our new home.
8. We went on a cruise.

Guess which one of these I am here to report on today? Yes, that's right, the cruise.

Is there any vacation grander than the cruise? All I really did for six whole days was sit around a lot, eat food every 45 seconds, and have my waitress Oslam bring me another Diet Coke every 4 minutes. PARADISE! We didn't ever really love the Ports-o'-Call. They were fine and stuff. We just loved the boat. In the ports, people wanted money for food and the Diet Coke was not free. Put me back on my Rhapsody of the Sea where I can add a lime to that DC, or a shot of grenadine. Mmmmm...

One event of note, however, merits special attention. On our cruise, there was a lovely buffet, open mostly all day, where you could get a wide variety of foods for free. There was a cold desert bar (With Cheesecake, creme brulee', Key Lime Pie, whatever,) and on most days, a hot desert option. One day the hot desert option was labeled Churroz Pudding. "Hmmm. What is that?" I thought. There was a side of vanilla sauce to go with it as well. I was intrigued. So I flipped open the chaffing dish and what did I behold? A big tray of churros. Now why they were spelled Churroz, is beyond me. Perhaps to give them more street cred? But it was a big beautiful tray of hot curros for me to partake of, for free, and in unlimited quantities. That, right there, was worth the cost of the cruise.

Now as deserts go in my book, #1 is the lovely Pie. I could eat Pie morning, noon and night every day of the week and never tire of it. Second place is reserved for the Cookie. Any variety, really, except those weird ones my Grandma makes filled with pureed raisins. I'd eat cookies and milk every night before bed if cookies made me skinnier instead of fatter. (And I actually did do this on my cruise. Cookies and milk from room service every night.) But third place is held for the lovely Mexican confection, the churro. The people of Mexico have contributed some wonderful things to the gastronomic world, but few equal the churro. So crisp and delicious on the outside, so warm and gooey on the inside. And then with that sweet taste of cinnamon and sugar...a tear comes to my eye.

When I am at an amusement park, as those who have traveled with me can attest, I have to stop at a churro stand nearly every time I see one. And do you know that Costco has started selling churros now in their little cafe, instead of pretzels? Great PR move. Pretzels are OK, but pale in comparison to the churro. It make going to costco even more of a pleasure. But a bottomless bowl of hot churros with optional vanilla sauce was almost more than I could handle. Pure Joy.

Another exciting thing happened on the cruise that merits mention. We saw a performance by the WORST, most awesome boy band to ever come out of Branson, Missouri: The Haygoods. Check them out for yourself at www.thehaygoods.com. They were a joy. They sang lots of cheesy songs, like "Celebration" and "Under the Boardwalk," did some awesome power clogging and talked A LOT about how hot they were and how awesome. It was priceless. On their website you will see them holding violins, as though they do some fiddlin. We saw a lot more clapping about the head than fiddlin'. And the two little kid Haygoods were not there. Just the 4 "HOT" (their word, not mine) brother, and the one dumpy, fat brother Matthew who stood in the back corner of the stage the whole show with the lights on him slightly dimmed. HE is SO cramping their style! If anyone is looking for a birthday gift for me (June 17th,) please check out the "merchandise" section of the Haygoods website. I would love either the signed 8x10s for $15, or the "I Heart the Haygoods" Teddy Bear for an undisclosed amount of money. They'll even sign it!

Anywho. The babies cute, the new house in great, the flood damage is repaired, and I hope I am back to the world of blogging.

Shaking my Cob

So I am a salesman by trade, and I have noticed something that really annoys me lately. (Dear Breakfast B., You can use a blog to just vent about what annoys you in the world!) As I am driving home from work every day, I pass about 4 of those stands that sell corn in the parking lots of Mexican restaurants and gas stations this time of year. And lately, it seems, there is some annoying 15 year old boy with a corn cob in each had, shaking them about, as if to entice me over to the corn stand. Now, I love to spend money. But I don't really see corn as an impulse buy. I've never once been driving along, thinking about how much I love Wynonna Judd's latest CD and the thought "CORN!" And why the shaking? Is the corn more appealing in motion? Is it to make me think of corn in its wild, free state where it roams the plains in great herds, killing lesser vegetables?

And it isn't just the corn people. Little Caesar's always has some idiot out on the street corner waving around that $5 pizza sign (seriously though, was that Hot n' Ready idea the greatest idea ever or what?) And you can't help every day but drive by a furniture store that is going out of business (why is that?) and they have paid some homeless man to hold a sign advertising their incredibly low prices. And wait...he's SHAKING the sign to reel those of us in who could resist his obvious charms. "Look honey, that transient is waving a purple sign around. Let's go buy a new settee'!"

And every time I go to the mall, I am accosted by 21 year old return missionaries in too much cologne trying to sell me a cell phone. "Excuse me, sir? Do you have a cell phone?" Does anyone NOT have a cell phone? (Chris and Lisa Clark notwithstanding.) And if you didn't have one, would the guy at the mall actually convince you to get one by yelling across the hall at you? Don't you think if I don't have a cell phone, there is a reason? It isn't because I haven't yet heard of them and I am hoping that someone will enlighten me and sell me one. And then there are the booths that sell stupid lotion or Proactiv or whatever that only employ Ukrainian girls who can't speak a lick of English except to try and sell me hand cream. And why do they teach them to start out with: "Can I ask you a question, sir?" and then I have to be the jerk and say "No!" because I am sure the question is "Are your hands dry and chappy, pappy?" and then I am sucked into the sales pitch. I don't WANT any lotion! If I did, I would know where to find it. And now you think less of America because we are all such jerks, but really we just don't have dry hands!

I don't stand outside of my store and shake a twinset around. Or approach passers-by and say "Hey do you guys own pants?" I just wait for customers to come in ask where the twinsets are. Is that so wrong? Does that make me an unsuccessful salesman? I don't believe it does. I believe it means....CORN! Excuse me.