Month: April 2005

I’ve added the Extreme Tracker back to this page. (Scroll down to the bottom and you’ll see a little planet icon) It offers lots of useful stats about who is viewing this blog. Click on it, it’s pretty cool. If you have a website, you ought to get one for yourself.

However – the Extreme Tracker is one of TWO trackers I have on this page. The other one has been on there since the beginning, and only I can view the stats. And lately it’s been VERY interesting to see who has been viewing this page – people I didn’t expect to see on here.

So, welcome to my journal, and welcome to my planet. Because an island was just too narrow a place for me.
(Inside joke, but at least one of the people lurking this blog gets it)

The following is a rap about Court Square, the park in the heart of downtown Memphis, that tells it like it is. The first verse was printed in my journal in 2003. The Center City Commission is going to hate me for this.

ODE TO COURT SQUARE: A DOWNTOWN MEMPHIS PARK
(c) 2005 Paul Ryburn. All rights reserved.

Boarded-up buildings
Don’t pay no rent!
“Look here, mayne,
Lemme get about fitty cent”

When I see bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

Bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

Sleeping on a park bench
All night and day
Liquor store
Is just a block away

From the bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

Bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

Drinking Mad Dog 20/20
With Crazy Homeless Sally.
Throw the bottle on the ground
Urinate in the alley.

With the bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

Bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

It shows no sign of stopping,
And this is why I’m rapping.
Lots of bums, lots of pigeons,
Lots of begging, lots of crapping.

Bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

Bums. And pigeons.
Bums and pigeons.
Bums, bums, pigeons, pigeons,
Bums and pigeons.

So they buried Pope John Paul II today. As I read the news reports, I remembered something I read years ago. Nostradamus supposedly described every pope from his death in the 1560s to present day with a phrase of two or three words. What’s interesting is, according to him there were be only two more popes after John Paul II. The next pope will be “Gloria Oliviae,” or Glory of the Olive. Either that or the description means that the next pope will be named Gloria or Olivia, but I don’t think women are allowed to become pope.

(Unrelated side note: Olivia was the first name of Mother Jefferson. Remember her? She was only on for the first few seasons, played by Zara Cully. She never thought Weezie was good enough for her precious George.)

After “Gloria Oliviae,” the final pope will be named “Petrus Romanus,” or Peter the Roman. The prophecies seem to indicate that he will preside over the end of the world, which is kind of scary since his reign will almost certainly take place in our lifetimes.

Here’s my take on it: Petrus Romanus will actually preside over the end of the Catholic Church (and all organized churches as we know them). To Nostradamus, a Catholic, this would have indeed seemed to be the end of the world. But instead it will be the beginning of a new era of spirituality, where people begin to look inward to find truth, rather than looking outward to religious leaders to tell them what to do. In a sense, we will each be our own Pope.

Oh, man. The floodgates are opening in my mind. There’s so much more I want to write about this, but right now I have to get ready to go to Raiford’s. Priorities, you know. But, I hope to get back to this point and say more about religion and the role it currently plays in our lives and in society. It’ll have to wait until later though….

Around the time the war with Iraq broke out, I had a really strange investment idea. What if I invested in UDI and QSII, in honor of Saddam’s two sons, Udai and Qusai? Of course, I didn’t really do it. But today, just over two years later, I decided to check and see how I would have done.

On the day the war started, which I think was March 19, 2003 (I may be off by a day or two), UDI was trading at $22.11. Today it’s at $73.89, better than a triple in two years. QSII traded at $24 at the start of the war, and is now at $49.65 – but, the stock split 2-for-1 during that period, so each $24 share has turned into TWO shares at $49.65 each. That’s a quadruple in two years.

$10,000 invested in Sons of Saddam on 3/19/03 would have turned into $37,397.13, a 274% return in just over two years. To compare, $10,000 invested in an S&P 500 index fund on the same date would have turned into only $13,612.04, a return of 36%. Too bad there isn’t a stock with ticker symbol W – that would make for an interesting comparison to Sons of Saddam.

Last Sunday some people in my building had a sushi party, and I went. The instructions for the guests were to bring something Asian-themed to share. Now, of course, I don’t cook. So I went to the Asian market to find something already prepared.

I came across a red can that at first I thought was Pringles. But, upon examination, I discovered it was something called “Mr. Squid.” Apparently people in Thailand eat the stuff like we eat Pringles in the States – but instead of potato chips, it’s dried, baked squid. I bought a can to take to the party, and when I got it home from the market, popped it open and tried one. It definitely was squid – you could smell it a mile away. Texture was crunchy, and the taste was, um, interesting.

Mr. Squid is healthy, though. According to the can, a serving has only 110 calories and 12 grams of protein. Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen a fat Thai person. Maybe we should get rid of the Lay’s and Doritos and start stocking Mr. Squid in the vending machines. That’s my plan for a healthier America!

Last Saturday I found myself with a choice. I could either attend Mpact’s Beyond College event, and teach graduating college students how to network, interview, and find a job; or I could attend the Overton Square Crawfish Fest, and eat crawfish and get drunk. You can probably guess which event won out.

It was a nice day and I decided to walk to Overton Square from downtown. We’re having a contest at work to see who can walk the most steps in a 2-week period, so I had a pedometer on. It took me an hour and five minutes and 7700 steps to get there, but it was a beautiful April day and I didn’t mind.

The Overton Square crawfish fest used to be one of my favorite outdoor festivals of the year, but this year it jumped the shark. True, it was well-attended, but it wasn’t well organized and was way too expensive. I had to wait in a line of at least 70 people to get a box of crawfish; even during peak times, I can’t remember lines of over 15 in previous years. Also, five years ago I paid $5 and got a huge box of crawfish with a tater and a piece of corn (there’s nothing like vegetables cooked in the pot with crawfish and that spicy Cajun seasoning). This year, I paid $10 for a much smaller box of crawfish, no tater, no corn. I could barely tell I ate at all. It was more like an appetizer than a meal.

The beer was too expensive as well. $3.50 for a 16-ounce Michelob draft? Come on, even the outdoor bars on Beale Street don’t charge that much! A lot of people chose to skip the official beer table, hit the nearby convenience store, and buy 40s to sneak in. And the people manning the beer table were not nice at all. I got really bad energy from them, and didn’t tip, which is unusual for me, but I just didn’t like them. A guy in front of me in line had accidentally left change for a $50 sitting on the table, and it was gone when he came back to claim it, and the people behind the table were downright rude: “Well, ANYBODY could come up and say they left their change.” I didn’t expect them to pull 50 bucks out the register and hand it to him, but they could have been a lot nicer about it.

Then there was the bathroom situation. In past years, they’ve had entire rows of porta-johns available for use. This year they had TWO – one men’s and one women’s – for the 600 to 1000 people that attended. What were they thinking? When I coordinated an outdoor music event in Court Square, I was told the rule of thumb was one porta-john for every 75 people. There were long lines all afternoon, and I never remember waiting at all in previous years. I just snuck in nearby restaurants and used their bathrooms instead.

Not that the fest was all bad – the people made it worthwhile. I had several groups of friends there to hang out with, and I caught a ride back downtown with some people afterward and we had a few drinks at Sleep Out’s. The bands that played were excellent. And the weather couldn’t be better – sunny and 65 degrees.

I’ll be back next year, but I’m going to eat before I go, and if I feel like having a beer I’m going to keep that convenience store in mind. I hope that the Bayou Bar & Grill, which puts on the festival, focuses more on execution, logistics, and customer experience next year.

What I’m looking forward to, though, is the downtown crawfish fest Sunday, April 17. The downtown fest used to suck because they ran out of crawfish too early, but in recent years they’ve solved that problem and it is now far and away the better crawfish festival. Last year yhey had huge buckets, enough to fill you up, for $10, and they gave away the first 500 pounds for free. Looking forward to that one. See you on the 17th!