Monthly Archives: November 2004

Green Bay, Week 2, Day 1

30 November 2004

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Well I’m back again.

So apparently Wisconsin heard that I was downplaying its weather. And when I came back this week, it was waiting for me, the chilly bastard. It’s been freezing temperature more or less around the clock here. When I got to the rental car, it was frozen. Solid. I love you too, Green Bay.

“From California, eh? Is it cold enough for ya?” Yeah, yuk it up while you can, Bitches. In two weeks I’ll be back in California. You have to live here.

The concierge (ha!) informed me that my suite on the far, far end of the hotel lot (the BFE of BFE, if you will) is great because “you can see the stadium from there. Across the bay, that is.” He failed to mention that my suite more closely overlooks a huge Catholic cemetery less than a block away. I need a shotgun.

It’s Tuesday night and everyone in this city is STILL talking about the football game. The big sports story on TUESDAY? The Packers from last weekend’s game of course! I’m not kidding. In the airport before I left for here, I overheard people freaking out, “let’s hurry this up… I have to be home in time for the game!” On the plane, the pilot periodically announced the score. And nearly the whole plane cheered. This morning on the news, every third story was last night’s football game. The ticker across the bottom of the screen alternated between two stories. Last night’s game and the hunters killed last weekend. At work today, every cube was buzzing about the football game. Every time I saw two people pass in the halls, there was some comment about “some game last night, eh?” Like I give a shit.

I don’t know if you all heard, but last weekend, just after I left Green Bay the first time, Deer season opened. One hunter apparently went nuts and shot down eight other hunters. If you don’t recognize the supreme and just irony in this situation, then you can count yourself among the Packers fans who wore orange hunting jackets to the game as a tribute. Here is a group of 10 people dressed in camouflage and armed with rifles planning to hide in trees and shoot unsuspecting passing deer. And what happens? They are instead shot unexpectedly by someone in camouflage, with a rifle, hiding in a tree. If that’s not justice, I don’t know what is. If you ask the people around here, you’d think it was another 9/11. I say, if you get shot while in the middle of trying to shoot something yourself, you got what you deserved. Next time pick on someone your own size.

I ate at an Olive Garden tonight. Jessica would have had a fit… the waitress offered us some award winning Italian wine… and pronounced it “aye-talian.” Let me just repeat that. The WAITRESS at an ITALIAN restaurant pronounced it “AYE-talian.”

And in closing, what the fuck is with all this static cling in my clothes? Anyone know how to fix it?

Bitter cold = bitter Benjamin

Green Bay, Week 1, Day 1

15 November 2004

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Most of you don’t know this, but when I was in school, I once took a temp job as a secretary at a landfill in Livermore, CA.  It was off in the hills, way out of the way… and during those few weeks in winter, surprisingly cold and misty.  It smelled like nothing I’d ever experienced… compost, garbage, cow dung, and something else… maybe chemical?

As I stepped off the tiny plane last night and on to the Green Bay airport tarmac, I was instantly transported to my days answering phones at the dump.  The smell was… identical.  The night, cold and misty.  The resemblance to a Livermore waste area was truly breathtaking.

But I was determined to have the Wisconsin experience, however backwoods it may be.  As I drove to my hotel, listening, appropriately enough, to “Freebird” on the radio, I was struck by the relatively little that seemed to be going on.  Apparently the city of Green Bay has something like 100,000 people.  That’s a “town” where I come from.

I’ve been thrilled with how much Wisconsin has turned out to be like it is in the movies.  Everything is named after the Packers, Native American chiefs, or Germanic surnames.  All the girls are blonde.  They all have big teeth and gums.  Even the morning newscasters speak with that unmistakable Wisconsin accent.  They say “woont” instead of “wouldn’t.”  It’s adorable.  And they’re all terribly nice.  I can’t complain about them at all.

Did I mention though that it smells like cow crap and chemicals?  OK, good.  Because it does.  Even as I type, it waits for me outside my hotel room door.

The project here is fine, and seems easy.  Early mornings and late nights though.  I may not get to check out the town’s only strip club.  But the building I’m working in is big and out in the middle of nowhere… a great view of open fields from the top floor.  The cafeteria must be subsidized… I had some really good food… a ton of it… $4.25.  It would have cost $12 in California.

The desks suck.  I banged my knee on one today and JUDAS ISCARIOT did it fuckin’ hurt.  So badly, so quickly, that I almost instantly threw up.  I broke out into a cold sweat.  That’s never happened to me before just from pain.  Is that normal?  I love you too, Green Bay.

P.S.  My ’62 Fender Jaguar finally shipped today.  That’s right, bitches.