In which I atone for skipping most of my 10th grade English assignments

I don't really remember much about my 10th grade* English class, other than:

1) It took place in what the school euphemistically called a "relocatable classroom," or what we students more accurately called a "trailer next to the baseball field."

2) Although we did have your run-of-the-mill high school English homework - like writing b.s. essays about Red Badge of Courage (which, come to think of it, I don't think I ever actually read) - our teacher, Mr. Mann, was pretty cool and let us spend most of our class time on crosswords, seeing who among us could finish that day's puzzle first. Which I liked because - and I don't mean to brag - it was usually me.

3) One other run-of-the-mill aspect of the class was that we had to write poetry. For an entire semester, most of our grade was based on our ability to put together rhyming couplets and stanzas and AABB stuff.

Now, despite what you may guess by reading this artfully crafted blog, I could never make my brain produce poetry. I'd sit there and stare at my notebook paper, pen in hand, and just... nothing. I didn't get it (I still don't) and I didn't want to. So when it was time to hand in each new assignment, I'd basically walk up to the teacher, shrug my shoulders and keep on walkin'.

And yet, despite the fact that I handed in not a single poem, the teacher gave me a B+ for the semester. Clearly, he took pity on me - but I think he justified handing out the decent mark because he loved crossword puzzles and he had watched me strut my crossword stuff all year.

And now, I get to my point: If you read the comments that followed my ingenious post from yesterday, you know that there was a near uproar - can two people typing blog comments create an uproar? - about the fact that I hadn't yet shared my thoughts about... swine flu.

Clearly, what this world needs is more analysis of this unimaginable pandemic that, despite being unimaginable and a pandemic, has caused only a few deaths and a few dozen illnesses. So today I kill two birds with one blog post: I shall break my silence on swine flu and, simultaneously (Mr. Mann, are you reading?), finally, write a few of those poems that escaped me in 10th grade.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen: It's Swine Flu Haiku.

The only problem is that I wrote two and couldn't decide which one I liked better. Since SFTC is all about interactivity, I invite you to vote for Haiku One or Haiku Two - and/or write one of your own. (Remember, it's 5 syllables / 7 syllables / 5 syllables.) Just click that Comments text below and start writing!

Here we go:
|ONE
swine flu all the rage
but not many confirmed sick;
octopi retreat

|TWO
octopus news fades
while swine flu gets the headlines.
some epidemic!

* Actually, I don't even remember if this was 10th grade, or 9th or 11th. But it took place in high school for sure, and the rest of the information is accurate. So if I'm off by a year, sue me.

Numb and Numbers

Summarizing my last few days, in one of those cute weekly-magazine-style numerical lists:

600
Garlic and herb french fries that ended up constituting my dinner last night. I had just finished telling my brilliant and amazing wife that I've been thinking a lot about eating smarter. That the thought of a big, juicy hamburger seemed really appealing in theory, but I knew I would feel better about myself if I had something healthier - a little closer to the tofu side of the food scale - for dinner.

Then the waiter shows up and somehow the words "garlic and herb fries" come gushing out of my mouth. I hastened to add, "Without the cheese sauce."

My wife laughs.

"What?" I ask.

"You just said you wanted to eat healthier."

"Well. Um. The fries have herbs on them."

I think I lost that one.

Five minutes later, the world's largest order of french fries arrives. Way, way, way too much for a single person to eat, but I shift into another gear and polish them off. I think I'm good on fries for a while.

2
Shirts I've sold from (lord, here we go again) my fledgling t-shirt store. The illustrious GG was my first customer, which was awesome. As either Sarah Palin or Tina Fey would say, there's a special place in heaven for her.

But yesterday, I rang up an order from someone named Megan, who's from Chicago, and who I don't even know - in other words, this was not just a friends-and-family sympathy purchase. Clearly, Megan has impeccable taste. She picked herself up a "Wassup Wasilla" tee, perfect for the Decision 08 home stretch. No wonder it's now one of our top sellers!

As my sister pointed out, I only have to sell about 10 more in order to trigger my first commission check. So there's that.

Since you're dying for more awesome S and J Market t-shirts, I'm working on a new design (very highbrow) that should be posted to the store later today or tomorrow, so stay tuned.

5,000
Total hits recorded by Sorry for the Convenience as of late last week. I recognize most of those are friends-and-family sympathy hits, but I'll take 'em. Thanks for reading all of this weird stuff! You're the best!

10
Foreign countries from which people have visited SFTC since I started tracking last month. The list: Germany, Holland, Hungary, Israel, Jamaica, Peru, Russia, Thailand and the UK. Oh, and Canada. That counts, right?

3
Phrases "I wrote" that "were actually published" in the 2009 Zagat "Movie Guide." (Yes, Zagat also publishes a guide to movies. I guess it's so you "have something to do" after you "dine" at one of the "eateries reviewed" in their better-known "restaurant directories.")

It wasn't my first time getting "some of my bon mots" into Zagat. I landed a few in the Chicago restaurant guide "a couple of years" ago. But this one was "particularly rewarding" since, the way I see it, I was "competing for space against" dorky amateur movie reviewers "from all over the country" as opposed to just dorky amateur restaurant reviewers from "a single midwestern city."

Oh, "and since you asked," one of my "reviews" that they used was about The Savages (Laura Linney and Rochester's own Philip Seymour Hoffman take care of their senile old dad), about which I wrote "savagely smart script." Hey, they seem to like alliteration. I leave open the possibility that someone else submitted the same exact phrase about this movie, because, well, "savage" is right in the name, and it was a smart script, so "you do the math." But I definitely sent my survey in "with those words" on it, so I'm taking credit. Thank you.

The "other two" were about No Reservations, the flick in which Catherine Zeta-Jones and Aaron Eckhart fall in love (!) after "initially not hitting it off" (!) while working as chefs in the same restaurant. I know, I was shocked, too. Zagat used my "as predictable as a Big Mac" and "a little heavy on the sugar." (Get it? Restaurant, food references. Right.) The movie was actually better than I expected it would be, "so sue me" if they only used my snarky comments. I have a reputation to uphold, people.

Approx.
Since this post got me thinking about numbers (duh), I was reminded of something my dad said when I was a kid that cracked me up at the time - and still does. I think I was in second grade, and I had just nailed some particularly challenging spelling assignment.

My dad was sitting at the dinner table and I ran up to him and said, "I know how to spell approximately!"

"Big deal," he said. "So do I."

"No you don't. Let's hear."

Without skipping a beat, he said: "A - P - P - R - O - X - period."

Notes for my screenplay, part 1

Pound for pound, my favorite line from a movie was in The Godfather: Part II. During a party for Hyman Roth, on a veranda (I know, just go with me) in Havana, a waiter brings Roth a piece of birthday cake. In the midst of a discussion about mob business, and without breaking conversational stride, Roth gets in an aside to the waiter: "Smaller piece."

Completely unnecessary in terms of the plot, but what a great touch of realism and character.

Now, I have no intention of ever writing a screenplay. But I've always thought it might be a good idea to keep track of strange bits of dialogue I overhear so I could throw bits like that into the script that I'm not planning to write.

Luckily, I just picked up a good one.

I'm walking back from lunch and a woman I've never seen before stops me. It's obvious she's going to ask me what time it is, so I start lifting my left arm toward my face.

"Hey, could you pick a number between 10 and 100?"
Wha?
"Seventy-four," I say.
"Oh! Good!" She seems pleasantly surprised. "Alright - pick another one."
How can I lose? "Thirty-six."
She looks disappointed. "Eh, OK."

I have no idea what it meant, but maybe I'll find a way to use it.

This also reminded me of my most memorable random overheard dialogue from the years I spent in in Oz. I'm not sure how well it translates into print - I actually do a pretty spot-on impression of the speaker - but here it is:

Down-and-out older guy walking down the avenue, carrying on a heated conversation with himself. Very loud: "I cain't drink." Then louder: "But I can smoke!"

Kids, take your pick: Your favorite line from a movie or favorite random overheard comment?