Bernie's Boring Blog

Lucky Cat

2006-08-25T21:53:00.000-04:00

( a B³ hidden track )

I went to a Chinese restaurant with my mom. They had one of those waving cat figurines there. I told her that I had seen them before, and was wondering what they were all about. She suggests that I ask one of the people who work in the restaurant.

I think about it and say, "nah."

"Why not?" she asks.

I say, "They'll just tell me it has something to do with luck. All popular Asian symbols have something to do with luck, or so it seems."

So she decides to ask herself. On the way out, she asks the middle-aged Asian man behind the cash register, "What is the significance of the waving cat?"

He says, "It's for good luck. It's a lucky cat."

I told her, but did she listen?! No!

Speaking of cats, one of our cats, who goes by the name Muffin, God bless her walnut-sized brain, has gotten in the habit of climbing into the kitty litter tray and taking a dump over the side and right onto the god damn floor.

She must be an unlucky cat. If she starts waving at me while taking a crap on the floor, I am going to need a little ride in the looney van.
- Bernie

A Note From The Author

2006-07-18T02:22:00.000-04:00

One evening back in March, I was sitting in front of my computer chatting in a couple of IRC chatrooms. One of the regulars in one of these rooms was going on and on about absolutely nothing. He was boring me to tears. I couldn't take it anymore, and I just had to vent. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I started mocking him in the other chatroom so he couldn't see what I was saying.

Yes, that's right, I was making fun of somebody behind their back. You got a problem with that?

Pretending I was making an entry in this dullard's diary, I wrote, "Dear Diary: Today I noticed that my kitchen clock stopped working. I suspected a dead battery was the cause. I put in a new battery. It started working again. I reset the time and hung it back on the wall. Who knows what challenges will face me tomorrow? Good bye for now."

I got a laugh. I posted another couple of short mock diary entries in the chatroom, and somebody suggested that I start posting these boring entries in a blog. I've never been a big fan of blogs, so I liked the idea immediately. It could be a way to make fun of blogs and make fun of this boring guy, and boring people in general, at the same time. We discussed ideas for what this character's name might be, and after a few minutes, Bernie Michaels was born.

Although Bernie was initially based on one person, I changed some of his traits, and added some traits from a couple of other people, and pretty soon, Bernie had taken on a life of his own. I found myself getting caught up in the writing process and had a blast writing about Bernie's daily exploits. A lot of the chatroom regulars who were in on it from the beginning kept making excellent suggestions, and I tried to use as many of these suggestions as possible. While some of Bernie's experiences were pure fiction, many were derived from the real experiences from a number of people, including me (beetles, comics, signing up for digital phone).

Before I go, I have to show my appreciation to the following people, without whom, Bernie's Boring Blog would not have been wasting precious resources on the Information Highway:

Thanks to Derek Rogers, Stephen Weeks, Matt Lilek, Matt Truppe, Derek McCurdy, John Weinheimer, James Thorne, Bill Johnson, Morgan Mai, Michael Weems, David Klein, Ashley Witt, and Jenn Cutter for their inspiration, encouragement, ideas, and spell checks. Thanks to Leo Laporte who played Leon Laponte against his will. Thanks to "random guy," whose picture played the face of Bernie. His picture was the number one search result for the word "fugly" in Google Images. Thanks to Albert's mother, for having the sense to move out into the trailer in Albert's yard. Thanks to all the people who kept coming back to B^3 for their daily dose of boredom. Most of all, thanks to Mike Bernstein, for tolerating a joke.

What started out as a blog parody quickly grew into a complete waste of my time. Thanks for wasting it with me. It was fun while it lasted.

John Lawter

Epilogue

2006-07-17T19:43:00.000-04:00

A couple of weeks after Bernie finished his blog, he got the three comic books that he submitted to be graded back from CGC Comics. Although the grading was lower than he had hoped, he did manage to make the grading fee back and then some by selling the comics on eBay. He opened a savings account to save up for some moving money, because he felt it was time that he moved out of his parent's house. He opened the account with a deposit of $110.

It was a start.

Now that he had a feel for how the comic book collecting business worked, Bernie set out to sell the rest of his father's comics. After mentioning his intentions use the comic book money to move out to his father, he was told that Grandpa Michaels had a comic book collection. Bernie was amused to learn that he had come from a long line of nerds. Grandpa Michaels had passed away several years earlier, and his dad stored some of his old possessions in the attic. Bernie's dad thought the comics were stored up there in an old steamer trunk. He told Bernie that he was welcomed to sell the comics to help out his moving fund, if he could find them.

The attic door

Bernie ventured into the attic and discovered three things. First, he found the source of the beetle infestation. I know what you're thinking, folks. The way Bernie's life usually goes, you're thinking that the beetles were feeding off of his grandfather's old comic collection.

That's exactly what Bernie thought too, but upon further investigation, he was relieved to discover that the beetles had gotten into some packets of old seeds that were stored along with some old gardening tools in a large dusty box. Their food supply was nearly exhausted, which would explain why the beetles were showing up in other parts of the house: they were looking for another source of food.

The steamer trunk

Bernie located his grandfather's old steamer trunk. Opening the truck, he didn't see any old comics, but he did find some of his grandfather's most cherished possessions. There were some family photo albums, with pictures of his grandparents, his aunt and uncles, and his father as a young boy. He also found his grandfather's old marine uniform from the time he served in the Korean War. There were also several medals that his father had been awarded while in the marines. Bernie knew that his grandfather served in the Korean War, but he had no idea that he was a decorated marine. Bernie was very impressed, and felt a sense of pride in his family that he never felt before. Bernie's grandather may have been a nerd, but he was a hero too. That was Bernie's second discovery. At the bottom of the trunk, Bernie made a third discovery.

There, he found a scratched up old wooden box. The wooden box looked like the kind of box that would be used to store the family silverware. Opening the box, it was as if Bernie were seeing the mysterious glowing contents of the attaché case that John Trivolta opened up in Pulp Fiction.

What he found was not silver, but gold. Pure paper gold.

Bernie's heart raced as he found himself staring at a nearly pristine copy of Action Comics #1, the ultimate holy grail of comic book collecting. Published by DC comics in June of 1938, this was the comic that introduced the world to Superman. But that wasn't all. Below the Action Comics #1 were several other comics. Bernie carefully carried the box downstairs so he could get these comics straight into Mylar bags. Although it was a small collection, it was clear that Grandpa Michaels had wisely preserved some of the comics most coveted by collectors. Among this small stack of comics was Superman #1, Batman #1, Detective Comics #1, Whiz Comics #2, the first Captain Marvel comic, and Detective Comics #27, which introduced the world to Batman. There were seventeen comics in all, each one of them highly collectible issues from the Golden Age of comics.

Despite the age of this collection, they looked like they had never been read, and the box that they were stored in protected them from humidity. The paper had aged a little, very little. The covers were highly reflective, the colors were bright, and the paper was white to off-white.

The collection sold at Sotheby's Auction House for over two million dollars. Bernie gave half of the proceeds from the auction to his parents, and used the other half to buy a house in Lebanon.

Lebanon, New Jersey, that is.

Howie moved in with Bernie. They were joined by Howie's cats who were terrorized on a daily basis by the roomba, much to Bernie's amusement. In time, the cats got over their fear of the roomba, and had a great time chasing it around the house as it vacuumed the carpet.

Before moving out of his parent's house, Bernie threw a party at his place. His new friends' cars were parked from one end of the block to another. He did not invite the neighbors. After he moved out, his parents sold the trailer and moved back into their house.

If this tale sounds like pure fantasy, that's because it is, but why shouldn't it be fantasy? After all, this entire blog has been a work of fiction. There is no Bernie. There is no Howie. There is no Len, no Frank, no Molly, no Charlie, no Curty, no Squeaks, no Derka, no Dustbin, no CrimeScene, no Leon Laponte and no KFE radio. Bernie's parents did not live in a trailer in the yard. Jane Curtin does not hang out in a chatroom with a bunch of computer geeks. It was all fiction.

Where else but in a work of fiction would you find such a ridiculously happy ending?

New Jersey?

Bernie Out!

2006-07-16T20:37:00.000-04:00

Sometimes life changing events happen because you want them to happen, you plan for them, you strive for them. Other times, life changing events just happen. Well, today just kind of happened.

Howie showed up at my place at about half past two in the afternoon. I was moderating Leon Laponte's chatroom at the time. After letting Howie in, I typed, "g2g. I have company," and then I disconnected from chat.

My mom and dad showed up minutes later. I put out snacks and hit the kitchen.

I already had a chicken filled with stuffing roasting in the oven. While Howie and my parents were getting acquainted in the living room, I put a pot of water on the stove and started preparing the mashed potatoes. Once I got the potatoes in the water, I started preparing fresh string beans for the steamer. While I was steaming the string beans, I put some dinner rolls in the bun warmer and started mashing the potatoes, mixing in a bit of milk, butter, salt and pepper.

I set the table, brought out all the food, and the four of us sat down for what was to become one of the most eventful meals of my life.

At first, our dinner conversation was as harmless as dinner conversation gets. We talked mostly about the weather, which has been very nice the past couple of days, and a huge relief compared the deluge of rain we've been getting lately. And then, out of nowhere, Howie decides that he wants to push my parent's buttons.

"So, Mr. and Mrs. Michaels," said Howie, "you folks are Catholics, right?"

"Yes, that's right," my mother says.

"Well," says Howie, "my family was never terribly religious, and I'm a little confused about the Catholic church's views on one particular subject. I hope you don't mind me asking where you stand on homosexuality."

My mom and dad glance at each other. I glare at Howie.

My mom says, "I believe that we are all God's children, and that God loves each and every one of us. However, the Bible makes it quite clear that homosexuality is an abomination and a sin."

"So," says Howie, "you're on the fence about it."

"We don't hate homosexuals, if that's what you're getting at," said my dad. "Heck, one time, in this bar, this homo came on to me. Sure, I could have punched his lights out, but I didn't. I just told him that I didn't swing that way."

"How very Christian of you," said Howie.

"Howie," I said, "Give it a rest. Let's just enjoy our meal."

"Bernie," replied Howie, "Don't you have something to tell your parents?"

My mom and dad glanced at each other again.

I say, "Me? No, not that I can think of."

Howie picks up a bite of chicken with his fork and puts it in his mouth. "Mmm," says Howie, looking me square in the eye, "this sure is some tasty chicken." And then Howie starts flapping his arms and clucking like a chicken.

I wanted to kill him.

"Stop it!" I yell. I was a little embarrassed for raising my voice. "Fine," I said, and then I took a deep breath. "Mom, Dad..." The moment had arrived. There was no turning back now. "In the words of our former Governor, Jim Mcgreevey, I am a Gay American!"

And then my mom smiled. "We kinda figured, Bernie Boy." My mom glanced at my dad.

"Yeah," my dad added, "I think we didn't realize it until we saw you with that nurse we had over on the fourth of July." He turns to my mom and says, "What was her name again? Holly? Molly?"

"Molly," said my mom.

"Yeah, that's it," said my dad. Turning to me, he said, "You looked pretty uncomfortable around her, Bernie, and that girl was nice. Did you get a load of her...," my dad cupped both of his hands over his chest to make the universal sign for breasts. My mom glared at my dad. My dad put his hands down. Howie snorted.

"So," my mom says, "I'm not sure if I even need to ask this next question, but," she paused, searching for the right words, "Are you dating anybody?"

Howie and I glanced at each other. My mom and Howie glanced at each other. Howie and my dad glanced at each other. My mom and my dad glanced at me. It was an orgy of glancing, but little real eye contact.

My mom asks, "So, how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"It'll be one week tomorrow," I said. Suddenly, the words just started to flow from my mouth. "Things just kinda clicked into place during our trip to Atlantic City last week. To be honest, I didn't even know I was gay until then. The thought had crossed my mind a few times, I suppose, but for the most part, I've been living in denial. In fact, I didn't even like Howie when I first met him, but as I got to know him, I realized that the reason I didn't like him was that he was so much like me, and I didn't like myself. Once I came to the realization that I was gay, I started learning to accept myself, and Howie."

After a moment, my mom, who can always be relied upon to break an awkward silence, said, "Listen, Bernie, no matter what decisions you make in life, no matter what you do, you will always be our son, and we will always love you." She smiled at me, and I smiled back.

Then I turned to my father, who was caught a little off guard as he was piling more stuffing on his plate. He looked up at me and said, "Yeah. What she said," and he smiled as well as he helped himself to another spoonful of stuffing.

Feeling like I had just weathered a storm in a leaky boat and safely reached the shore, I said, "Now eat up everybody, before your dinner gets cold."

They did as they were told, and it was good.

Now that I've learned to accept who I am, and have gained the acceptance of the people I love, I feel that it's time that I step away from the computer and get out there to explore everything that life has to offer. In my efforts to deny my true self, I clung to the things that comforted me: computers, gadgets, toys, and solitude. No longer will I need to build a wall of electronics and other creature comforts around me to protect myself from finding out who I am. No longer do I feel the need to revel in my folly as I go from one bad purchase to another, and proclaim to the world in my online journal what an unfortunate consumer I've been. No longer do I feel that I was born a loser and will always be a loser.

In other words: you won't have Bernie Michaels to kick around anymore. That's right, dear readers: although my original intent when I started writing this thing was to give you all something to laugh at, my journey has taken an unexpected turn, and I no longer wish to be the subject of self-ridicule. My desire now is to continue to get to know the new Bernie, and instead of wallowing in my self loathing by making a mockery of my life for strangers like you to read, I want to hold my head up high, be proud of who I am, and be admired by those around me.

Like you've read in so many other fairy tales, this is my happy ending. Thank you for going along with me on my journey, but I must now bid you all a fond farewell. It seems I've got some living to do.

Bernie out, and proud.
- Bernie

Weekend At Bernie's

2006-07-15T23:15:00.000-04:00

Howie stopped by to hang out with me today. We did the usual things that two geeks do when they hang out together: we played a little Xbox, I broke out the Nintendo 64 for a little old school gaming with The Legend Of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, we played with my collection of Star Wars figures and I showed Howie my dad's collection of old comics. Howie was quite impressed with the comic books, and I was impressed by how carefully he handled them.

After Howie left, my mom stopped by. It's so nice that she takes the time to travel all the way from the trailer in the yard to visit me.

She had seen Howie leave earlier and she was curious about him. As you may recall, until recently, I didn't have any friends, so seeing me have a visitor must have seemed strange. When I explained that he was a friend from work, she seemed delighted. She suggested that I invite him over for supper tomorrow so she and dad can meet him.

I called Howie and asked him if it could make it over the next day. Much to my dismay, he said "yes." It's not that I mind them meeting each other. It just seems like the second I get a bit of a life, my mother feels the need to stick her nose in it. To be fair, I guess that's partly my fault. If I could just get my act together, stop mooching off my parents, and move the hell out of their house, my mother would probably feel less inclined to tune into The Bernie Show. I'd have a life of my own, in a place of my own.

In other words: I'd be like a (gulp) adult.

I hope that wouldn't mean that I'd have to stop playing with my Star Wars figures.

Seriously, would it?
- Bernie

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2006-07-14T21:59:00.000-04:00

My life has been seeing some profound changes lately. I'm experiencing things that I don't have the energy or the inclination to discuss just yet. I'm learning things about myself that I never knew before. I'm both frightened and excited.

No wait!

I'm three things: frightened, excited, relieved, and confused. I'm four things! I'm frightened, excited, relieved, confused, and happy. Five things!

I'm five things, and one of them is "happy."

Like The Spanish Inquisition, NOBODY expected that, least of all, me.
- Bernie

Hollywood Types

2006-07-13T03:39:00.000-04:00

I had a little run in with one of the regulars from the KFE chatroom who didn't think the Leon blooper was funny. The chatter, who goes by the nickname "Jane," is none other than Jane Curtin, an original cast member of Saturday Night Live and co-star of the TV series, Kate & Allie as well as 3rd Rock from the Sun. These days, she apparently has nothing better to do with her time than to hang out in chatrooms with computer geeks one third of her age.

Yesterday, I put a link to the blooper in the chatroom's topic. Here's an excerpt from an exchange that Jane Curtin and I had soon after she signed on this afternoon:

<Bernie_M>	Hi Jane
<Jane>	Hi Bernie_M
<Bernie_M>	Jane, check out the link in the topic.
<Jane>	1 sec, I'm not done yelling at my agent.
A few minutes later...
<Jane>	I'm back. Bernie_M what about the link in topic?
<Bernie_M>	Jane: You hear it?
<Jane>	yeah, so?
<Bernie_M>	Humor is lost on you
<Jane>	it's not funny
<Bernie_M>	Like I said, humor is lost on you
<Jane>	of the two of us, I believe I was the only paid, working, comedian :)
<DeadRoxanne>	that makes leon sound like a jerk
<scooby-doo>	you're a comedian jane?
<Jane>	wait, so it's Leon's fault they gave him a difficult if not impossible task?
<Bernie_M>	Jane: Odd. I never heard you say or do anything funny.
<Jane>	scooby-doo, yes, and an actress. I used to be on SNL and a couple of successful TV shows.
<Jane>	same to you Bernie_M.
<Jane>	good times :)
<Bernie_M>	But I don't profess to be a comedian
<scooby-doo>	SNL?
<Jane>	saturday night live
<scooby-doo>	never heard of it
<Jane>	It's been on for over 30 years, scooby-doo. It's STILL ON!
<Bernie_M>	Jane: caps.
<Jane>	CAP THIS
<scooby-doo>	jane, what night is it on?
<Jane>	saturday. duh.
<scooby-doo>	I see Jenn
<scooby-doo>	got any videos of your act?
<Jane>	Yes, scooby-doo, you can get them in just about any video store.
<scooby-doo>	...
<Jane>	I did a voice in the movie Antz for christ's sake!
<Bernie_M>	Cool
<scooby-doo>	cool
<DeadRoxanne>	cool
<Bernie_M>	All I can say is KFE screwed up big time
<Jane>	exactly, which isn't exactly side-splitting humour.
<Bernie_M>	Humor is lost on you

Jane had more to say, but on this site, I get the last word.
- Bernie

Leon Blooper

2006-07-12T22:47:00.000-04:00

Even though I had a good time in Atlantic City this past Sunday, I missed a bit of fun by not hearing Leon Laponte's radio show.

Leon took the day off so KFE radio broadcast a prerecorded show. Well, apparently Leon goofed and neglected to edit out a moment where he was complaining to the board operator about the length of the copy on one of the ads he was supposed to read. Either that, or KFE failed to edit it out. In either case, it's pretty funny.

Leon's show is streamed live on the Internet, so this was on worldwide radio. Not that the whole world heard it, but at least a few hundred geeks sure did. But who cares? It's funny. Check it out:

I wrote an email to Leon a couple of days ago to get his reaction about it. I haven't heard back from him. I wonder if I'm being a jerk for making a big deal over this.

Sounds like me, doesn't it?
- Bernie

Reinventing Howie

2006-07-11T21:46:00.000-04:00

Howie and I decided to hook up at his place after work to play on his Xbox 360. Instead, we wound up spending most of the night cleaning his place. I'm kind of a neat freak, and if I'm going to be hanging out at Howie's place, it's got to be cleaner than the fur and dust covered pigsty that it is.

He vacuumed the living room carpet while I mopped the kitchen floor. He scrubbed the shower while I scrubbed the toilet. He brushed his cats while I cleaned the kitty litter. Sure, I got stuck with all the dirty work, but at least the place is clean now.

Only time will tell if I've motivated Howie enough so that he'll keep the place clean. If not, well, I guess I could help again. Much to my surprise, Howie and I have become friends, so it looks like I'll be hanging out there from time to time.

Now that I've shown him how nice his place can be when it's clean, my next goal is to convince him that he'd look so much better if he shaved off his pathetically thin blond mustache. After that, I'll tackle the short-sleeved shirts.

I don't expect to make a silk purse out of this sow's ear, but is a leather wallet too much to ask for?
- Bernie

Chatting Behind My Back

2006-07-10T21:43:00.000-04:00

Since I was in Atlantic City yesterday, I wasn't able to monitor the #KFE chatroom for Leon Laponte's radio show. I couldn't get any of the other monitors to capture and post the chatlogs on Leon's web site. Apparently, the other mods don't consider the chatlogs to be important. All I know is that Leon likes them posted on his site, so that's good enough for me.

One of the regular chatters, who goes by the nickname, "Derka," agreed to capture the chatlog to his machine and email them to me to post on the site. The log was waiting for me in my inbox when I returned from the shore.

After posting the chatlog to Leon's web site, I thought I'd search through it to see if my name had come up during the show. I found this conversation between Derka and another chat regular, who goes by the name "CrimeScene."

<CrimeScene>	Hey, where is Bernie_M today?
<Derka>	CrimeScene: atlantic city
<Derka>	gambling
<CrimeScene>	Derka: LOL no way
<Derka>	yup
<TechMan>	Bernie_M's on vacation, isn't he?
<Derka>	--- [Bernie_M] is away (Off to Atlantic City, If I win big, Mac Minis for everyone!)
<CrimeScene>	Derka: Atlantic City, maybe...but gambling?
<Derka>	yeah i know
<Derka>	it's so un Bernie_Mish

After hanging out in chatrooms with these people for nearly two years, it kills me how little they know me. After seeing this little snippet from the chat log, I fired off the following email to Derka and CrimeScene:

Derka/CrimeScene (BCC used to protect privacy of e-mail addresses),

So, why does it seem so farfetched that I was off in Atlantic City gambling? I do live in one of two states that permits gambling that does not involve an Indian reservation or a boat. I'll have you know that I decided to gamble $25 (would've done more if time permitted) and I gambled the $25 away. On one machine I won $25 on a single quarter. I would have broken even, but before I left, I decided to play roulette and I placed the entire $25 on black. The ball landed on red. Easy go, easy come, easy go again.
- Bernie

That'll teach them! Like me and gambling, if they want to take a chance and talk about me behind my back, they will always lose.
- Bernie

Down The Shore

2006-07-09T22:11:00.000-04:00

I didn't want to go to Atlantic City alone, so I called Howie last night and talked him into making the trip with me. The first thing I gambled on was whether or not Howie would drive me insane with his incessant talking on the trip down to the shore. Much to my surprise, he wasn't all that bad, so I lost that bet.

I won't get into too much detail about my trip. I lost a little money, but overall, I had a really good day, so in a way, I ended up a winner. In fact, I can safely say that Howie and I both had an unexpectedly good time. I think I'll leave it at that.

What happens in Atlantic City, stays in Atlantic City

Nuff said.
- Bernie

New Jersey Reopens

2006-07-08T17:16:00.000-04:00

I'm sure many of you have all had a big laugh at the expense of my home state lately. Newspaper headlines declared things like "New Jersey Closed" and "'New Jersey & You': Shut Down Together" and other similar wisecracks after Governor Jon Corzine ordered the shutdown of all nonessential government offices on June 30th.

Among those nonessential offices was the New Jersey Casino Control Commission, who monitor the casinos in Atlantic City. The casinos were forced to shut down because they are not allowed to operate without being monitored by the state. The press punsters had a field day with this, saying things like "New Jersey Craps Out," "No Dice For New Jersey," and "New Jersey Folds."

Hardy har har.

The Governor did what he felt was necessary in order to force state legislators into reaching an agreement on a state budget after missing the deadline on June 30th. The fact that legislators signed off on a budget in less than a week justifies the Governor's action. Now that the budget crisis has been resolved, I plan on making a trip to Atlantic City tomorrow to show my support for the state I love, the state so many of you consider a laughing stock.

Leon Laponte's chatroom will just have to carry on one day without me. I may be a pretty good chatroom operator, but I'm a lousy gambler. I'm sure that Leon's chatroom is in much less danger than my wallet.

Wish me luck.
- Bernie

Post Office Blues

2006-07-07T18:40:00.000-04:00

I stopped by the post office after work today because I had a couple of bills to mail and I was out of stamps. I got a parking spot right out in front of the post office and walked inside.

There was a long line of people waiting to be helped by a postal clerk, and only two clerks were on duty. I got in line behind a man wearing a green shirt and blue jeans, then I quickly decided that I didn't want to wait on line, so I headed straight for the vending machine.

A woman wearing a long tan skirt, red blouse, small wire-framed glasses, and a floppy straw hat beat me to it. No big deal, I figured. How long could she possibly take? She looked to be about 40 years old, but somehow, her clothing made her look like an old lady. As I soon learned, she moved like an old lady as well.

The woman crouched down in front of the vending machine, and started rummaging through her oversized purse. I guess she had a lot of junk in there, because it took her forever to find what she was looking for: her change purse. Then she started fingering through her change purse, picking out one coin at a time in slow motion.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out a handful of change. I jingled the change in the palm of my hand to make her aware that I was waiting behind her, in the hopes that she would show a little consideration and get on with it. When that didn't work, I started breathing heavily like Tony Soprano. She glanced over her shoulder at me, then got back to her slow motion coin counting. Then she took all of the coins that she had slowly pulled out, and dumped them right back into the change purse. She started rummaging through her purse again. After another excruciating minute of rummaging, she pulled out her wallet, and slowly took out a ten dollar bill. She finally stood up, money in hand, ready to make her purchase.

And then, she just stood there staring at the vending machine. Had she never used a vending machine before? I mean, it's not like ordering coffee from Starbucks. It's simple!

She pushed the ten dollar bill into the bill slot on the vending machine. The machine spit it out. She pushed it in again, and again, the machine spit it out. Realizing that she was putting it in backwards, she turned the bill around and shoved it in the slot again. This time, it stayed in.

Then she got back to staring at the vending machine again, slowly extending her index finger as she prepared to make her purchase. Finally deciding on a book of ten first class stamps, she pushed a button, and a book of stamps dropped in the tray near the bottom of the machine. The machine displayed a message asking her if she wanted to make another purchase. She pondered this for what seemed like several years. Then she pushed the "Yes" button, and selected another book of ten first class stamps. Again, the machine asked her if she wanted to make another purchase. Several decades later, she pushed the "No" button, and her change came pouring out of the machine. She meticulously gathered her two books of stamps and change from the machine and stepped aside.

Halleluiah!

As I started pumping my change into the machine, I glanced over at the service counter. The man in the green shirt who I was standing behind earlier was just finishing up with one of the clerks. Thanks to the middle-aged old lady, my decision to use the vending machine saved me no time whatsoever.

Do me a favor, people: if you see me behind you in line, either move quickly or get the hell out of my way.
- Bernie

Patent Pending

2006-07-06T17:37:00.000-04:00

I went to Howie's place after work today to play some Xbox 360 games. I'd never been to his place before. He has two long-haired cats. There were tufts of hairs all over the place. I was horrified.

"You could really use a roomba," I told Howie.

Howie said, "I had another idea. Have you ever seen those machines that take hay and bind them into bales?"

"Baling machines, sure, I've seen them," I said.

Howie said, "Yeah, that's it. I was thinking it would be kinda cool to make a miniature baling machine, one that could make small bales of cat fur."

"A Cat Fur Bailing Machine, interesting idea. But what would you do with the bales of cat fur?" I asked.

"That's the part I haven't figured out," said Howie.

I said, "Maybe there are some other cultures that would want to buy the cat fur from you."

Howie seemed to consider that for a moment, and then asked, "You know of any hairless cultures?"

We both quickly realized that our riveting conversation had run it's course, so we sat on his fur-covered couch and Howie completely demolished me in Burnout: Revenge.

Hissssssss!
- Bernie

Hammer. Apply Directly To My Forehead

2006-07-05T17:54:00.000-04:00

When I got home from work today, I turned on CNN. During a commercial break, the strangest thing happened. The audio on the commercial got stuck in a loop. It was really really irritating. I've had digital cable TV for about five years now, and I know that digital freeze-ups are fairly common, but I've never known the audio to get stuck in a loop before. I was worried that it might have something to do with my adding Comcast's digital phone service to my cable plan. The digital phone service won't be activated for another two days, but I still felt that it may be causing the audio problem. I decided to call Comcast and report the problem.

After waiting on hold for about ten minutes, I got through to a Comcast customer service representative. She said her name was Kim, and she asked me how he could help me.

I said, "I'm having a strange problem with my digital TV. I was watching CNN, and the audio got stuck in a loop."

"That is strange," said Kim. "Is the audio still stuck in a loop?"

"No," I answered, "but I've never seen this happen before, and I recently signed up for digital phone, and I was concerned that the new service might be causing the audio loop. If it keeps on happening, it's going to drive me crazy."

Kim said, "Your digital cable TV shouldn't be affected by your digital phone service."

"Really?" I asked, suspecting that she was trying to give me the ole brush off.

"Really," said Kim. "If you like, I can run a trace on your cable line just to make sure that there are no problems."

"That would be great," I said. "If I have to hear, 'Head on. Apply directly to the forehead' one more time, I think I'm going to lose it.

"Oh!" exclaimed Kim, "I've seen that commercial! It's annoying, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, "especially when it repeats itself like that."

"But sir," said Kim, "that's not an audio loop. That's how they made the commercial. I guess they figured that they'd get your attention if they made the commercial as annoying as possible."

Boy, did I feel dumb. "Oh, so it's not a problem with the cable?"

"No, sir," said Kim, "It's just bad advertising."

I apologized for wasting her time, and got off the phone. Then I searched the Internet to see if somebody had posted a video of the commercial. I found it on YouTube. I want you to see this so you can see just how irritating it is. Check it out.

No Fireworks

2006-07-04T20:21:00.000-04:00

I had the day off from work today to celebrate the Fourth of July. As was the case on Memorial Day, I had plans to join my parents in a backyard barbeque. This morning, I got a call from my mother asking me to set an extra place at our table. It seems she had invited a "friend" that she wanted me to meet.

My mother had gone grocery shopping for food, so I asked her, "Did you buy enough food for an extra person?"

My mom said, "Yes, Bernie Boy. I bought plenty. Don't worry about that."

I didn't like the way she phrased that. Was there something that I did need to worry about? There was something about my mother inviting a mystery guest that gave me an uneasy feeling.

Early this afternoon, I went to the backyard to set up the grill and the card table and folding chairs that we use as a makeshift picnic table. When I went back into the house to get four place settings for the table, I took a peek outside and noticed a car I hadn't seen before parked in front of the house. I assumed that my mother's guest had arrived, and was in the trailer with my parents.

While I was setting the table, I saw the trailer door swing open, and out emerged my mom, my dad, and a woman that I'd never set my eyes on before. She looked a little young to be one of my mother's friends. In fact, I'd say she was a lot closer to my age than my mother's.

They walked up to me and my mom said, "Bernie, I want you to meet Molly. Molly, this is my son Bernie." I was beginning to get the idea that this "friend" of my mother's was a surprise blind date for me.

Molly put out her hand and said, "It's nice to meet you, Bernie." I shook her hand, but I was too tongue-tied to say anything.

I picked up the barbeque apron to put it on, but my dad grabbed it and said, "Let me man the barbeque today, son. Have a seat and get aquainted with our guest." I reluctantly joined my mother and her "friend" while my dad fired up the grill.

My mom says, "Molly is a nurse at the Hunterdon Medical Center. Isn't that nice?"

"Where do you know her from?" I asked my mother, getting right to the point. Molly and my mother exchanged nervous glances.

"If you must know, Bernie, Molly answered your personal ad."

I freakin' knew it! This was a set up!

"It's not my personal ad," I pointed out.

Molly smiled and said, "I know that now. To be perfectly honest, I wrote in just to ask if the personal ad was a joke. Not that I think that you're a joke, mind you. It's just that the ad didn't sound like the kind of things that a man would be writing about himself. When your mother wrote back to me and admitted that she had written the personal ad, it made perfect sense. It sounded like something a mother would write about her son."

"I told her that I had been trying to get you to start dating," said my mother.

"She's a sly one," Molly joked.

I laughed awkwardly and said, "Meddlesome is more like it."

My mother turned to Molly and said, "You see. This is what I get for trying to help."

Molly smiled and said, "I realize that this probably feels like an ambush."

"Uh, yeah!" I said.

"However," Molly continued, "I don't want you to feel any pressure. I work a lot of night shifts and don't have much time for dating anyway. I just thought it would be nice to come by and meet you. As a matter of fact, I'm working tonight."

"That's too bad," my mother frowned. "I was hoping you two kids would be able to go to the fireworks display tonight."

"I would if I could, Mrs. Michaels," said Molly, "but I'm afraid that duty calls. I hope you don't think me rude, but I have just enough time to have dinner with you, but then I'm off to the hospital."

I yelled to my dad, "Dad, you need any help with the barbeque?"

"No," my dad responded. "I got it. Just relax."

"Anyway, Bernie." said Molly, "I don't want you to feel pressured at all. As I was saying, I don't have much time for dating now anyway, and I'm not looking to get into anything serious, so let's just relax and enjoy your dad's cooking." She patted me on my knee. I stared at my knee until she withdrew her hand, then I stared at her. By the looks of her, she was no stranger to barbeques. Her round face seemed perfectly at home perched upon her round body. She did have a nice smile though.

"Don't just stare at her, Bernie," my mother said. "Say something."

"Something," I said.

"Tell her what you do for a living, Bernie," my mother said.

I barely glanced at my mother, too angry about this surprise date to look at her.

I looked at Molly and said, "I repair computers for my company."

"He's a help-desk technician," my mother chimed in, apparently thinking that my title would somehow impress this woman.

"It's not that big a deal," I said.

"So," said Molly, "you do for computers what I do for people."

"You give me too much credit," I said to Molly. "At least computers don't talk back to you and crap in their beds."

"Bernie!" my mother exclaimed.

Molly laughed, "I suppose that's true."

I really wish that my mother had listened to me when I told her I didn't want to date. Molly seemed like a nice person and all, but there was just no chemistry between us. I don't get too many days off from work, and here I was, forced to awkwardly make conversation with a stranger on the Fourth of July. I found it ironic that, of all the days to try and rob me of my independence, my mother chose Independence Day.

Somehow, I made it through dinner, afterwhich, Molly said her goodbyes, got in her car, and left for work.

As soon as she left, I turned to my mother and said, "Don't ever do that to me again."

My dad yelled, "Don't you disrespect your mother!"

I said, "When is somebody going to show me some respect? I said I didn't want to date, and yet you spring one on me anyway."

"That was hardly a date, Bernie," said my father. "That was merely an introduction. If you want to date, you have to take the next step."

"Don't hold your breath," I said. My mom looked like she was about to cry. I softened my tone and said, "I know you mean well, mom. But please, I'm begging you, please stop trying to fix me up with people. I'll do it in my own time."

My mother managed to regain her composure and said, "Fine. I tried. I'm sorry I upset you." I could see that I had upset her as well, and I felt bad about it.

I'm staying home for the rest of the night. There will be no fireworks for Bernie Michaels on this Forth of July.
- Bernie

Me And My Big Mouth

2006-07-03T14:54:00.000-04:00

You may recall that I recently went to a comic book convention to submit a few of my dad's old Batman comics to CGC Comics to get them graded. I'm expecting a 30-40 day turn around, so I'm not expecting to get the comics back for another few weeks at least. However, I was browsing the CGC website, and I noticed something that caused me a little concern.

They are very specific about how their submission form should be filled out, and they warn you that if it is not filled out correctly, it could cause "significant delays" in getting the comics back from them. They say that the month/year column on the form is the part most commonly not filled out. I looked at my copy of the submission form, and sure enough, that column was left blank. The thing is, I didn't fill out the form. It was completed by the representative from CGC comics. I'm really anxious to get the comics back, and I sure as hell don't want there to be any delays due to an error by CGC. I decided to call them up to complain.

I called their toll free number and got a hold of one of their customer service reps in Sarasota, Florida. He said, "Thank you for calling CGC Comics. How can I help you?"

I said, "Yeah, I have a complaint. I recently submitted three comics to you guys at the Big Apple Comic Con, and the guy from CGC who filled out the form left the month/year column blank, and I don't think it's fair that the grading will be delayed do to an error by CGC."

He said, "Don't worry about that. We got you covered. It would only cause a delay if you had submitted a lot of comics. Since you only submitted three, it'll be fine. Not to worry."

I said, "That's a relief to hear."

He said, "I was at the Big Apple Comic Con. Maybe you remember me. My name is Scott."

As soon as he said his name, I realized that I was speaking to the very person that I had called to complain about. Imagine that.

"Your name doesn't ring a bell," I said.

"I have red hair and a goatee," said Scott. That was him all right.

"Nope," I said. "I don't think I met you."

"What comics did you submit?" asked Scott.

I figured they must have received a ton of submissions at the convention. There's no way he'd remember me. Right? So I said, "A couple of Detective Comics and a Batman comic."

Scott says, "From the early sixties, right? I totally remember you. We don't get many early Batmans. You're a tall guy with a shaved head, and you were wearing a Speed Racer t-shirt, right?"

Damn! He made me.

"Yeah, that was me," I confessed. "I'm sorry. I guess I was calling to complain about you. I hope this won't affect the grade that you give my comics." I'm hoping they'll get a high grade so I can get a good price for them on eBay.

Scott laughed. "Of course not," he said. "I'm in customer service. I'm not involved in the grading process, and even if I were, we grade comic books impartially. We wouldn't allow a inquiry from one of our customers to affect our grading integrity one way or the other. And besides," Scott continued, "your question raised perfectly legitamate concern. I don't blame you one bit for calling."

"Cool," I said. "You've been very helpful. Thanks."

Scott said, "Glad to be of service. Thanks for calling CGC Comics. Have a good night and enjoy your holiday."

I said, "You too. Good night."

Either Scott is a really nice guy, or he got off the phone, slipped some sandwich meat between every page in my comic books and kicked the three of them around in a sandbox.
- Bernie

Digital Delay

2006-07-02T16:46:00.000-04:00

I'm sorry for going on about adding digital phone to my cable service, but it's turned into a much bigger pain than any other cable service upgrade I've asked for and I feel people considering getting VOIP should be forwarned.

I got a call from Comcast today. They tell me that they need one more bit of information from me. They also told me that the activation date for my digital phone service will be pushed back one day because they didn't have this information to give to my phone company.

Then he asks me what floor I'm on.

"That's what you need to know?" I ask.

"Yes," he answers.

"I live in a one story house. What floor do you think I live on?" I ask.

I was completely baffled.

"I'm sorry, sir," he responded. "The phone company indicated that you lived in an apartment building."

"Well, I don't," I said.

I'm sure that my phone company asked for this information just to give Comcast a hard time because they're losing my business, and yet, I'm the one who has to suffer as a result of their stupid little game. This makes me even more certain that I'm making the right move by giving my phone company the boot.

My digital phone's activation date is now July 7th. I think it stinks that it can't be sooner.

Hopefully, I won't have any reason to bore you any further with this subject.
- Bernie

Deja Vu All Over Again

2006-07-01T18:08:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I went to pick up my digital phone self-installation kit from my cable company. After waiting in line for about ten minutes, I sat down with a customer service rep, who asked me for my name and number. As soon as she found my order on her computer, she started frowning.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She said, "Your order was entered incorrectly. We're going to have to redo your order."

I said, "Please don't tell me that I have to go through that verification process again."

She said, "I'm afraid so. You can use my phone."

I said, "Can't you do the verification process for me?"

She said, "I'm afraid not. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience."

Unbelievable! Now I was going to have to lisp my way through that stupid process again, this time, with somebody watching me! I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. My lisp only comes out when I'm aggitated, so I had to remain calm.

"First," she said, "I'll have to re-enter your order." She asked me all the same questions that I answered on the phone the day before, and entered my information into their order system.

When she was done, she looked really confused.

"What's wrong now?" I asked.

"I have to enter a code in here, but I'm not quite sure which one would apply to you."

Ain't it always the way?

She turned to one of her coworkers, who was sitting next to her. He had a look at her monitor. After much discussion, he said, "I think this is the right one."

She said, "But then he wouldn't have The Movie Channel."

"True," he said, and then he addressed me. "I notice you have HBO, Cinemax, Showtime, and The Movie Channel. Do you really need all those channels?"

I was taken aback by the question. I said, "Huh?"

He said, "Of all the premium channels you have, The Movie Channel is easily the worst. If you drop it, you can save a few bucks, and you won't miss it. Trust me."

I said, "I'm confused. Why are you trying to get me to drop a service? I figured you guys were supposed to be pushing this stuff."

He said, "Well, we are, but you don't really want The Movie Chanel."

I said, "Yes, I do."

He looked exasperated.

I said, "I know what's going on here. You just want me to drop The Movie Channel because you can't figure out what code to enter that will let you add digital phone to my existing plan."

He looked down, apparently too embarrassed to answer. I said, "Admit it! That's the case, isn't it?"

"Well," he said, "That's part of the problem, but it's still a crappy channel."

"Lithen up!" I lisped. "I want digital cable added to my exthisting plan and I do not want to drop any of my exthisting therviceth and I will not leave here until you've figured out how to do that!"

So much for my trying to stay calm.

The lady said to her coworker, "It's all right, I'll figure it out." It took her another ten minutes, but she did just that. Then she picked up the phone. I assumed she was going to connect me with their verfication system, but then I hear her saying, "I'm running a little late. Can you do me a favor and pick up Bobby from day care? I'll be by your place within the hour to get him...Thank you so much....So, am I going to see you and Carlos at the party this weekend?...Great...How is your family doing? Did Dina ever get over her flu?...Oh, that's good...Say hello to your family for me...See you soon."

I could not believe it. She was making a personal phone call. Like this post, this whole process was taking forever. I was getting really upset.

She finally said goodbye to her friend, then said, "You'll have to do the verfication thing now. One second while I connect you." She dialed the phone, waited for it to ring, then handed me the receiver.

I took another deep breath.

Like the day before, I got through the first few question just fine. Then the system said, "If you should cancel your cable service, it is your responsibility to return the cable modem to your local Comcast office or you will be charged for the equipment. At the tone, please say yes to indicate your understanding of this condition." Beeeeeep.

"Yeth," I said.

"I'm sorry, " the system said. "I didn't understand your response." Then it repeated what it said before, and asked me to say yes at the tone.

Beeeeeeep.

"Yeth," I sighed. I noticed that the lady and her coworker were both looking at me with smirks on their faces. It was so humiliating. The verification system connected me with a live operator, and I "yethed" myself through the rest of the process.

To make matters worse, after she handed me the self-installation kit, she asks me if I brought my old modem with me. I said, "No. Nobody told me that I had to bring it in."

"Well, they should have," she said,

I said, "How long do I have to bring it in?"

She said, "ASAP. Otherwise you'll be charged for it."

So now I'll have to make another trip there just to return my old cable modem.

What a crock of thit.
- Bernie

Yeth!

2006-06-29T20:36:00.000-04:00

About five years ago, when my parents were still living in the house, I managed to talk them into upgrading our regular cable TV service to digital cable TV. About a year ago, I switched from a DSL Internet connection to high-speed cable internet. Today, I decided to call Comcast, my cable company, and add their digital phone service to my service plan.

I called their main number, pushed-buttoned my way through a few voice-menus, and within minutes, I was on the phone with a customer service representative. It's funny, but I never seem to get through as quickly when I have a problem, but when I want to give them more money, I get right through.

The rep took my order, and asked me to stay on the line to go through a verification process. He explained that it would only take a couple of minutes, and that he could not complete my order unless I completed the verification process. Apparently, Comcast wants to have a digitally-recorded record of my voice, detailing my order, my contact information, and my understanding of certain limitations and conditions of the service.

The verification process was done by an automated system. A prerecorded voice asked me a series of questions, and then asked me to answer after the tone. For instance, the automated system said, "Please state your first and last name after the tone." Beeeeeeep.

To which I replied, "Bernie Michaels."

See?

Well, there were quite a few questions, and I found myself getting a little exasperated with the process.

Now, there's something about me that I never mentioned before. When I was younger, I used to have a pretty bad lisp. It still comes out now and then, especially when I'm excited or angry. Well, apparently it decided to rear its ugly head during the verfication process.

The verification system said, "If you should cancel your cable service, it is your responsibility to return the cable modem to your local Comcast office or you will be charged for the equipment. At the tone, please say yes to indicate your understanding of this condition." Beeeeeep.

"Yeth," I said.

"I'm sorry, " the system said. "I didn't understand your response." Then it repeated what it said before, and asked me to say yes at the tone.

Beeeeeeep.

"Yeth! Yeth! Yeth!" I said, hoping that at least one would be clear enough to be understood.

"I'm sorry," said the apologetic system. "Please hold on while I connect you with an operator to complete the verfication process."

Of all the stupid things! If a live operator could help me complete the verification process, why put me on the phone with a stupid computer in the first place? Sometimes I think the world has gone automation crazy.

Anyway, the good news is, I'll be able to pick up my self-installation kit on the way home from work tomorrow, and in about a week, they'll activate my digital phone service and I'll have unlimited digital calling throughout the U.S. at a nice savings over my current plan with my phone company.

Thweet!
- Bernie

Intruder Alert

2006-06-28T17:01:00.000-04:00

This morning at about three o'clock I was awoken from a deep sleep by the sound of breaking glass. The sound came from the livingroom. I live alone, so the only thing I could think of was that someone had broken into my house.

I wish I could say that I had a security system in my house, but I don't. My town is a low crime area, and getting a security system has never really been a priority. I found myself sitting in bed, with my heart racing, and regretting my decision not to have a security system installed.

I have several phones in the house, including a cordless phone in the bedroom. I reached for my phone to take it out of it's charging base so I could call 911. The phone wasn't there. Then I remembered that I had left it in the living room last night. Drat!

I was going to have to think of a way to deal with the intruder myself.

I looked around my bedroom for a weapon. About the only thing I could find was the Star Wars light saber that I had just bought at the comic convention. I grabbed it, slowly opened my bedroom door, and cautiously stepped into the hallway.

"I've called the cops!" I yelled, hoping that my bluff would scare the intruder away. I didn't hear any response. I tip-toed down the hallway, inching my way towards the livingroom.

I yelled again, "I'll have you know that I am armed! Leave now if you do not want to get hurt." Then I pushed the button on my light saber and the neon tube glowed red. The effect was dramatic. Still, I heard nothing.

I reached the end of the hallway, reached around the corner, and flicked on the living room light switch. I ducked back into the hallway, fearing an attack. And yet, I still didn't hear anything.

I slowly peeked around the corner into the living room. The first thing I noticed was that the livingroom windows appeared to be in tact. Then I noticed some broken glass on the floor. I inched my way towards it. I noticed that the glass was from a candle holder that I keep on one of my end tables. Lying on the end table, where the candle holder used to sit, was the culpit: a pewter unicorn that had fallen from the mantlepiece.

I turned off the light saber and took a deep breath.

I placed the unicorn back on the mantlepiece. Then I swept up the shattered candle holder and threw it in the trash. I grabbed my cordless phone and my light saber and headed back to my bedroom.

This Jedi needed a few more hours of shut eye before getting up for work.

Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm a complete moron.
- Bernie

Wrong Buffett

2006-06-27T17:57:00.000-04:00

Boy do I feel like a tool. I've been informed that I was mistaken about Jimmy Buffet being the second richest man in the world. That would be Warren Buffett, not Jimmy. The funny thing is, I never even heard of Warren Buffett. As far as I know, unlike Jimmy Buffett, Warren Buffett hasn't had a single hit, and yet he somehow managed to amass the second largest personal fortune on the planet.

From what I understand, Warren Buffet is CEO of a company called Berkshire Hathaway Inc. I haven't heard of that either, but as far as I can tell, it has nothing to do with margaritas.

I've learned that the two Buffett's are friends, and may be distantly related. One is a billionaire, and the other is a millionaire. I'd call that pretty distant.

Pictured here you see Warren in the black hat, and Jimmy in the white hat. Damn, that's a nice looking burger. The fries look pretty awesome too. Mmmmmmmmm.

Er, where was I?

Anyway, I screwed up. Sorry about that.

I should probably refrain from commenting on current events in the future.
- Bernie

Wasting Away In Margaritaville?

2006-06-26T20:20:00.000-04:00

I heard something in the news over the weekend that has me completely perplexed. Apparently, Jimmy Buffett, singer and songwriter of such hits as "Margaritaville," will be giving away 85% of his wealth to five charitable foundations, one of which is the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, run by Microsoft chairman - and the world's richest man - Bill Gates and his wife, Melinda.

The thing that has me confused is that they said on the news that Buffett is the second richest man in the world. Now, I know that "Margaritaville" got a lot of airplay, and Jimmy Buffet has had a few other hits in addition to that. I also know that he co-owns a couple of restaurant chains, but richest man in the world? How in the tarnation did that happen?

Apparently the reports of Jimmy Buffet wasting away in Margaritaville were greatly exaggerated.

Clueless,
- Bernie

Comic Conned

2006-06-25T18:41:00.000-04:00

I got up bright and early this morning and took a shower in preparation for my trek to the city to attend the Big Apple Comic Convention. I needn't have bothered. As I soon learned, comic book fans are a pungent lot.

My Dad told me that if I could make some money from his old comics, I was more than welcomed to sell them. I bundled up a few of my Dad's old Batman comics from the early 60's with the intention of getting them graded by Comics Guaranty, LLC. I had learned that they were doing on-site grading after emailing a comic book store earlier in the week. Comics Guaranty, or CGC, is an independent comic book certification company that takes some of the aggrevation out of dealing comic books by applying an widely respected opinion of the condition of comic books.

I didn't want to spend a lot of money, and parking in the city is insanely expensive, so I drove to Jersey City and parked my car near Journal Square. Then I took the Path train to midtown Manhattan. The convention was right around the corner from the 33rd Street Path Station.

I walked in the building and passed a man who strongly resembled Buddah and got on the escalator which took me to the convention floor. I looked around and saw a lot of dealer tables covered with comics, toys, and DVDs. I was trying to figure out where to pay my $10 admission. After a moment, I realized that the Buddah guy was security for the convention, and that I had gotten past him and was already in the convention hall. Apparently, I should have bought my ticket downstairs somewhere before heading to the escalator. So I had unintentionally snuck into the comic con.

So far, this was turning out to be a very inexpensive day in the city.

After walking around for a bit, I spotted the CGC table. I was disappointed to learn that they were not doing on-site grading. I was hoping to go back home with the comics already graded. However, they were accepting on-site submissions. As I learned from the CGC representative, even if they had provided the service on site, the cost would be a lot higher, more than I'd be willing to pay. The CGC rep helped me fill out their submission form, and I handed over three of my Dad's old comics.

I don't know much about comics, but I've been doing some research, and I'm hoping that these three will get a good grade and fetch a pretty fair price on eBay. I won't know if my inexperienced assessment of their condition is accurate for another month or so, when I'll get them back from CGC in the mail. If I am correct, I think one is worth about $80, another about $155, and the third about $180. We'll see.

CGC charges a pretty penny to grade comics, so having them grade your comics can be a bit of a gamble. I paid them $112 to grade the three comics. No, that's not a typo. I paid over a hundred dollars to get somebody's opinion of the condition of three comics books. Crazy, I know. My hope is that getting them graded will increase my chances of getting a fair market price for them, and that said price will be greater than the expense to have them graded.

Once I had forked over my dad's valuable comic books and my credit card information to a perfect stranger, I was tempted to just head back home, but since I made the trip there and snuck in and all, I figured I might as well stroll around for a bit.

Robert Vaughn, the actor from The Man From Uncle, was sitting at a table selling autographs for $20. Nobody was buying. I felt sorry for him, so I got an autograph. Maybe I can sell it on eBay. Then I saw this guy selling Star Wars light sabers with neon lighting. I just had to have one. I bought one for $40. Then I saw this guy selling all these Marvel comics from the mid-70's that his son had acquired in a warehouse sale. They were in great shape and dirt cheap. I bought two dozen Fantastic Four, Spiderman, and Iron Man comics for $20.

I quickly realized that I was parting with far more money than I had intended. I decided to get out of there. On the way to the exit, I spotted a table with Star Wars figures. As I've mentioned in the past, I already have a collection of Star Wars figures which I keep on a shelf in my bedroom. Well, my collection just grew ten figures larger, and my wallet grew $60 lighter.

So much for the $10 I saved by sneaking in. In less than an hour, I had parted with $252 of my hard-earned cash, and what do I have to show for it?

A big bag of crap, that's what.
- Bernie

Nerd Convention

2006-06-24T22:50:00.000-04:00

I was planning on going to the Big Apple Comic Convention today. My Dad has some old comic books from the early sixties that I thought I might bring to the convention to see if I could get an idea what they're worth. Unfortunately, it was raining cats and dogs all day, and I just didn't feel like dealing with the weather. Instead, I helped moderate Leon Laponte's chatroom like I always do.

I think I'll go tomorrow, come rain or come shine.

Or maybe not. We'll see.

Stay tuned.
- Bernie