Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Travel Tips from Dauber, part 1: Air Travel

Many people will be traveling for Christmas right about this time, so I figured I'd share some wisdom I've gained as someone who flies every year just about now. This wisdom comes from both watching Airline and actual travel. In bringing you this wisdom, I want to make you aware that I do not work for the airline industry or anybody who has anything to do with traveling.

Remember what happened on September 11, 2001.
  • It pains me to have to emphasize this, but basically, don't put anything in your carry-on stuff that could be used to inflict harm. I don't care if you're bringing your knife collection because you're going to a knife show -- expect it to be confiscated! Basically, don't attempt to bring anything pointy or that can start any kind of fire or explosion.

  • If somebody does confiscate something in your carry-on luggage, don't blame the airline -- it's not their call.

  • This was actually true BEFORE 9/11, but it's even more true now: do not say the word "bomb" at the airport or on board the plane. Ever. In any context.

  • If you haven't flown since 9/11, be aware that if you don't have a boarding pass, you might not be allowed through security. So if you're there to see someone off, you might have to leave as soon as that someone gets the boarding pass. This policy varies from airport to airport, but I can tell you from personal experience that this is true for O'Hare, Newark, and McCarran.

  • Ever since 9/11, there's been a strict rule that you are not allowed out of your seat during the first half-hour and last half-hour of your flight. So plan your potty breaks accordingly.
Now, in general:
  • Just because they serve alcohol in various places inside the terminal doesn't mean you can get drunk. If someone thinks you could be drunk, you will be denied boarding. You have to be sober enough to perform emergency procedures. Also, who knows how you'll behave on board while intoxicated?

  • Do you have chocolates or peanut butter in your luggage? Don't be surprised if the scanner detects explosives. However, the candy will not be confiscated. Your luggage will be thoroughly searched, though, and that could delay you a bit.

  • No matter what the airline tells you, get to the airport at least two hours before your departure time. Most airlines actually tell you that anyway, but this is very good advice. You never know how long security lines will be.

  • If you're flying out of Baltimore, don't take Southwest Airlines. (Well...that's my own opinion, actually, and that's some of the wisdom I gained from watching Airline!)

  • All airlines typically overbook flights. There are usually no-shows, so rather than lose out on expensive air fare, they'll sell more tickets than the number of available seats. Keep that in mind -- make sure that if you have to be at work the next day that you don't take the last flight of the day! If you have to get bumped because of overbooking, you don't want to screw yourself. You will get a nice compensation package, though, to help make up for the inconvenience.

  • Don't get mad at the airline if your flight is cancelled or delayed due to bad weather. They cannot control the weather, and if the weather is bad, it's just not safe to take off and land. But for idiots who can't figure this out, I really do think that airlines should have a "quack flight." The "quack flight" would be run by a pilot who really likes to live dangerously and doesn't mind taking dumb risks. What happens is you complain to the agent about your flight being cancelled or delayed due to weather or other safety concerns. "You really need to fly out right now, no matter what? Okay, here ya go!" You get your boarding pass and you board the quack flight -- after, of course, signing an agreement saying you will not hold the airline responsible for your death or for a bad flight because, after all, you were dumb enough to fly in dangerous conditions.

  • If you get a drink during the flight, chances are the flight attendant will pour the drink from the can into a smaller cup. That's why you can afford to fly. However, I do believe that if you ask for the whole can, they will give it to you. Heck, I never needed more than the cup, so I never asked, but I'm pretty sure that they will give you the whole thing if you ask.

  • A good way to pass the time in the air is to look through the Skymall catalog. Seriously, you'll get a good laugh at all the stupid overpriced crap you can buy. Oh...and half of it is "European," which usually means "contains curved tubular metal."

  • Standing up as soon as the plane hits the ground and fumbling for your carry-ons in the overhead compartment won't get you out of the plane any sooner than anybody else, so sit your ass down and wait like everybody else.
I think that's all I can think of right now. I'll be sure to add updates as necessary!


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Wednesday, December 14, 2005

...and a Japanese transistor radio!

Well, Christmas is eleven short days away, so now is the season when we're bombarded with Christmas music, some brilliant and some overplayed. We're all familiar with the recursive Christmas carol "The Twelve Days of Christmas." Is this rant going to be about the usual thing -- the wisecracks about all these birds making a mess, etc.? No. But first, just a few fun facts.

One favorite question asked in many high school academic bowl tournaments is the number of gifts received in the entire song. (When I was on the scholastic bowl team in high school, this question actually did come up. Our captain turned to me and whispered, "Start adding!") All together, that's 364 -- almost one gift for every day of the year! It's an average of 30 and one-third gifts per month. Here's the complete breakdown:


  • First day: 1 gift
  • Second day: 3 gifts
  • Third day: 6 gifts
  • Fourth day: 10 gifts
  • Fifth day: 15 gifts
  • Sixth day: 21 gifts
  • Seventh day: 28 gifts
  • Eighth day: 36 gifts
  • Ninth day: 45 gifts
  • Tenth day: 55 gifts
  • Eleventh day: 66 gifts
  • Twelfth day: 78 gifts

Now, there ends the whole mystique of "The Twelve Days of Christmas." Those are all the facts you need to know. There's nothing further, really, on which one may reasonably snark.

Sure, there are countless parodies, most of which just replace the gifts with something silly, like terrorism paraphernalia or stereotypical North American cultural items, and just seemingly random thoughts with little supposed-to-be-funny sound bites dropped in. *yawn*

Then there's the late Allan Sherman and his parody, "The Twelve Gifts of Christmas," from his For Swingin' Livers Only album. Yes, it's another parody in which the gifts are changed, and Sherman occasionally interrupts with some snappy remarks. Oh, and Sherman, who's supposed to be receiving all these gifts for Christmas...was Jewish; more on that a bit later. Allan Sherman was a genius when it came to writing song parodies, so much so that he was a major influence on "Weird Al" Yankovic. And "The Twelve Gifts of Christmas" is, besides being probably the only truly good "Twelve Days Of Christmas" parody, a perfect example of his brilliance and how he can leave many of us wondering, with secrets he probably took with him to the grave over thirty years ago.

The one gift that Sherman keeps receiving every day is "a Japanese transistor radio." Here are some things we know about it:


  • It's a discontinued Nakashuma Mark IV.
  • It comes in a leatherette case with holes for listening through the case.
  • It also comes with an earpiece on which the phono plug was somehow bent.

How many times does Allan receive this gift? If you said twelve, you guessed wrong! The song gives no indication on whether he actually received anything on the twelfth day, which is one of the many mysteries of this song. More on this later.
So right now, the count is eleven Japanese transistor radios that we know for sure he received.

Here's what he receives on the following days:

  • Second day: Green polka-dot pajamas and the radio
  • Third day: A calendar book with the name of his insurance man, the pajamas and the radio.
  • Fourth day: A simulated alligator wallet, the calendar book, the pajamas and the radio.
  • Fifth day: A statue of a naked lady* with a clock in her stomach, wallet, calendar book, pajamas, radio.
This is where the hard deducible facts end. Even that is a bit hazy, as he doesn't specify how many pairs of pajamas he gets! But after five days have gone by, Allan has the following things:

  • Five Japanese transitor radios.
  • If we assume ONE pair of pajamas every day, then he has four at this point.
  • Three calendar books. And he ain't kidding, either -- these are the exact kinds of things that somehow you find yourself with a whole bunch and wonder, "Where the HELL did I get these from?"
  • Two alligator wallets.
  • One statue with a clock instead of a digestive system.

So, that's fifteen gifts in all -- although thanks to the mystery of the pajamas, we can only be totally sure of eleven of them. And notice how he only gets, apparently, ONE of each gift every day. But at this point, the song gets a little hairy: presumably to cut out the "Yeah, yeah, I get the point" factor of the song, rather than going through each of the other items, Sherman shortens the wording. He sings, "A hammered aluminum nutcracker and all that other stuff," followed by his chorus singing "And a Japanese transistor radio."

As colloquial as "all that other stuff" sounds, there's a vast mystery behind it: does "all that other stuff" INCLUDE the radio? If it does, then on the sixth day, he gets TWO: "...and all that other stuff, and a Japanese transistor radio." So either he got 21 gifts (the previous fifteen, plus one each per number of days it's been) or 22 gifts if you count the radio -- and again, that's assuming just one pair of pajamas every day. The "all that other stuff," which is sung one time by the chorus (believe me, you haven't lived until you've heard a professional chorus sing the word "stuff"), lasts until the ninth day. So after the eight day, Allan has:

  • Eight radios -- or is it eleven? (One extra for each "all that other stuff!")
  • Possibly seven pairs of pajamas.
  • The ubiquitous calendar book -- six of them.
  • Five faux gator wallets.
  • Four statues.
  • Three nutcrackers.
  • Two pink satin pillows that say "San Diego" and have fringe
  • An indoor plastic birdbath, in case he decides to turn his house into an aviary
In other words, he has either 36 or 39 gifts, and again, you're assuming that the pajamas are only one pair each day.

Okay, so "all that other stuff" happens until the ninth day. What happens starting that day? He just gets two gifts from this point on: whatever the new gift is, and the radio -- no more "all that other stuff." And this goes on until the eleventh day. So, just to keep a running tally, here's what we have each day, each with the disclaimer about the pajamas:

  • A Japanese transistor radio (one gift)
  • Green polka-dot pajamas and the radio (two gifts)
  • Calendar book with the insurance man's name, the pajamas, and the radio (three gifts)
  • Simulated alligator wallet, calendar book, pajamas, radio (four gifts)
  • (sung to the tune of "Five golden rings," cramming all the syllables together and singing the words really fast: ) "Astatueofanakedladywithaclock...where her stomach ought to be," the wallet, calendar book, pajamas, and the radio. (Five gifts)
  • Hammered aluminum nutcracker, "all that other stuff," the radio (Six -- or seven -- gifts)
  • Pink satin pillow that says "San Diego" with fringe all around it, the other stuff, the radio (Seven -- or eight --gifts)
  • Indoor plastic birdbath and the other stuff and the radio (Eight or nine gifts)
  • A pair of teakwood shower clogs and the radio (Two gifts)
  • A chromium combination manicure scissors and cigarette lighter (Two gifts)
  • (Again, sung really fast to the tune of the "Five golden rings" line:) "Anautomaticvegetableslicerthatworkswhenyouseeitontelevisionbutnotwhenyougetithome" and the Japanese transistor radio. (Two gifts again)


At this point, Mr. Sherman has received either 42 or 45 gifts, again assuming the thing about the pajamas.

I said the two-gifts-per-day lasts until day 11. But what happens on the twelfth day? Let's go back to my observation of a Jewish guy getting all this stuff for Christmas. I'd assume that if someone was a die-hard practicing Jew, he would not be celebrating Christmas, which probably explains why on the twelfth day, Sherman doesn't say anything about his true love giving him anything. Instead, he sings, and I quote: "On the twelfth day of Christmas, although it may seem strange...on the twelfth day of Christmas I'm going to exchange..." an then he rattles off each of the eleven gifts, singing "And a Japanese transistor radio" with a big flourishing finish.

But there's a problem: at that point, Sherman is apparently still left with either 31 or 34 gifts, because he only mentioned exchanging one of each gift!

When people talk about the big mysteries in music of the 1960s, a lot of things are brought up. What were the real circumstances behind the death of Brian Jones? Did Jim Morrison really die in 1971? Why did Brian Wilson stop work on the Smile album and what was the final vision for it anyway? Are the rumors about John Lennon and Brian Epstein's trip to Spain true? Are the Kinks trying to tell us that Lola was a man? I mean, come on, those aren't the real mysteries! The real mystery is this: how many gifts did Allan Sherman receive for Christmas? Truly it takes a genius to leave the world scrutinizing and wondering over a question so simple.


*Yes, I know that you've always heard it as "A statue of a lady..." Any anal-retentive music snob knows that the song was later edited to make it a bit more friendly. The unaltered version was out as a single and can be found on the Rhino Handmade collection My Son The Box.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Christmas in Rockefeller Center

In case you live under a rock, last night they lit the tree at Rockefeller Center. (Sorry, but you have no excuse if you don't live in the New York metro area -- it's broadcast nationally!) The occasion definitely marks the beginning of a rushed yet happy season. I do admit, though, that a couple of times I did go to New York to see the tree in person, and I was kind of unimpressed -- it looks so much bigger on TV!

Anyway, this time of year usually makes me wonder a lot about the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. My wife and I often discuss these topics:

- Do they ever detect green spray paint on the tree to disguise decaying parts?

- Whose dad to they get to test the Christmas lights, get pissed off, and curse? And does that dad also have to jam the tree into the ground to make sure the needles don't fall off?

- Speaking of the string of lights...do they keep the extra bulbs in a Dutch Masters cigar box? Really, did everybody have these things? Heck, we had a bunch of those cigar boxes around the house when I was a kid, but nobody I've ever known actually smoked those things!

- That button the celebrity presses to light the tree -- is that on a toggle? Just once I'd love to see said person toggle the tree off after about five seconds, utter "heh heh...just kidding," and then turn it back on.

- Where do they get a Christmas tree stand wide enough to support that monster?

- When the Christmas season is over, do they throw the tree out against the curb like everybody else?

- During the off season, where do they keep the star they put on top of the tree? My wife and I are assuming they put it in the attic at 30 Rock in a cardboard box with "X-mas Star" written on it in marker. Maybe there's something else already written on the box but scribbled out.

You just can't help but wonder.