Election Night

Ahhhhh, Election Night…it’s like prom night for us nerds!  [And my date is Rachel Maddow.]  That’s  right – a whole night of seeing which poll was right and trying to get retweeted by Maggie Haberman.  [Nobody else knows who Maggie Haberman is, do they?  Please see previous nerd disclaimer.]  An evening full of twitter, blogs and MSNBC.  That’s right...I said MSNBC…. After all, if Democrats are doing well, I want to revel in it.  If we’re losing, I want to delude myself as long as possible [which is where Chris Matthews comes in].

Nights like this may be why I moved to California [I mean in addition to Blondie, of course.]  Election results start coming in at 5 p.m. out here.  Which means I can watch history being made and still be in bed by 9 p.m.  I have the whole evening mapped out according to poll closing times.  Did you know you can vote until 10 pm in Iowa??!  [Of course you didn’t know that, because you have legitimate hobbies – like human interaction.]  Iowa’s plan may be great for democracy, but it is very inconvenient for those of us trying to declare the next President of the United States!

In order to pass the time, I will spend the evening rooting for Senate races until the networks call the presidential race in Ohio - which may very well be a week from Wednesday.  [Although I read that Fox News plans to call it at 10 pm…and wait for the supreme court to reverse it.]  Seriously, I’ll be spending the evening playing big ballot bingo with 33 senate races. 

The existential question for the evening:  If Richard Mourdock loses, will he think it's God's will? 

POS

You may have noticed I am blogging about Blondie’s new wine bar endeavor.  After a couple of taxing months, isn’t it good we can [nervously] laugh about it?  Or I should more accurately say…. isn’t it good my carefully negotiated blogger’s agreement allows us to laugh about certain things that shall not include the staff, customers, or menu. 

Which brings us to the point-of-sale (i.e., cash register) system at the bar.  If you’re in the trade, you call this the “POS system”.  [If you’re the designated bookkeeper you call it “the important part”.]  Blondie’s POS system is an app for the iPad!  How cool is that!  It’s so cool.....my iPad disappeared [just when I was getting good at Boggle].  The servers just have to be sure they’re ringing up real customers and not the ones on my Farmville game. 

But the greatest part of this POS system is it’s on the web.  So those of us keeping score at home can….well….keep score at home.  Log in any time of the day or evening and see exactly how many tickets are open and who is ordering what and how much she can afford to pay the bookkeeper.  But Blondie thinks this interest is like spying on her.  Silly girl – accessing the footage from the shop cameras is spying on her, the cash register stuff just lets me stay involved, which allows me to help in a number of ways: 

• I can correct her whenever she gets a key statistic wrong.  “No – I think it was five bottles of the barbarella that you sold, not four.  By the way, what IS a barberella?” 
• I can offer helpful hints:  “I’m surprised you didn’t suggest a glass of the mongrano to table 32 since they liked the vilosell so much” [she REALLY likes it when I also make wine recommendations – armchair sommelier] 
• She’s not the only one who gets to know the customers:  “Was that Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton at table 14?  Nice champagne – what were they celebrating? “
• And I can keep an eye on things.  “That table of 1 sure drank a lot of wine with dinner.”  [Oh  yeah, I forgot I was at the wine bar for dinner tonight.]

I am a little worried, however, that my login ID may be deactivated before I can check on today’s events. 

Silly Season

I never thought I would say this, but will this election just be finished already??  That’s right….will the presidential election and the Titans football season just mercifully end??  [I did NOT expect this fall to be so joyless.] 

Maybe it’s because Obama is no longer winning by 9 points over humanoid Mitt Romney.  Maybe it’s because I get more emails with presidential campaign solicitations than I EVER got on Viagra or Nigerian lottery winnings.  Maybe it’s because I don’t even know what we’re arguing about on Benghazi.  

But whatever the reason, I…the person most responsible for sky-rocketing political blog click-throughs…. am ready for This.  Election.  To.  End.  Then at least I can get back to wine bar bookkeeping. 

As we get into the last few weeks of the various congressional campaigns, here is just a sampling of the really critical issues we are debating out there:

• In the Missouri senate race [which really has to perform somersaults of impropriety in order to push “legitimate rape” off the front page] Rep. Todd Akin described Claire McKaskill as a dog.  While Senator McKaskill was with her dying mother.  First…..you are quite the charmer, Mr. Akin.  Second, I pay pretty close attention to politics and Claire McKaskill is NOT the Senator I would liken to a canine.  After all, Senator Joe Lieberman and Droopy Dog were separated at birth. 
  
  
• In the Connecticut Senate race, former World Wrestling Federation CEO [ummmm.....shouldn’t we get to stop right there??] Linda McMahon describes her Medicare position: “Here’s what I’m going to say on this issue today. In terms of reforming and revising Social Security and Medicare, I really will not talk about specifics until we’re in a bipartisan way in Congress.”  First of all, who talks like that?  [Being “in a bipartisan way” sounds a LOT like an unwanted pregnancy - which seems like a subject Republicans should just stay away from].   Second, what is it with the current uber-trend where we voters are told not to worry our pretty little heads about all those really complicated issues going on in our country?? 
  
  
• In the three dozen political blogs I read each day [no wonder somebody’s AP checks to wineries are all late], the authors are struggling to come up with new and exciting ways to reference the states they cover.  After all, there are only so many times you can say “the Senate race in North Dakota”.  So bring on the references to the Roughrider, Peach Garden, and Flickertail State.  [the Flickertail State??  I did not make that up!]  I had to look up which state was the Mountain State....and I. Was. Born. There.  We need to end this thing before I am on a nickname basis with all 50 states. 



• And the most obvious reason we need this election to be over? Real TV networks continue to interview Donald Trump.  Need I say more? 

Honestly – at this point I think the winner would be whichever candidate promised to suspend any and all usage of “and I approved this message”.   

Bumper Cars

Members of my family have a terrible history of……. [you are DYING to see how this sentence ends, aren’t you?]

Members of my family have a terrible history of running into one another’s vehicles in the driveway of our homes.  It really is the McC’s signature vehicular move – driveway demolition derby.  In high school I was able to land the triple-lutz of driveway fender benders when I reversed my Toyota Tercel down the driveway in just such a way as to COMPLETELY sideswipe my sister’s Chevy Chevette [removing every inch of the snazzy wood paneling] before coming to rest alongside my dad’s Datsun 210 [that classy fleet of vehicles was the envy of my senior class, I just know it].  I imagine it was an interesting call to the insurance agent. 

My sister Nic finally joined the club on Saturday when she forgot that I (and my rental car) had come for a visit.  Considering my rental car is the size of a child’s toy, I am surprised she was able to find it in the driveway – but the bumper of her brand new, yet clearly unlucky, Volkswagon Passat must have a homing device. 

The execution of this easier-than-you-might-think maneuver generally includes several key factors:  Unfamiliar car in the exit path of your driveway; unacceptable tardiness to some event; a really good song on the radio that deserves to be turned up; and surprisingly, not once in half-a-dozen repeats, even a drop of alcohol.  

My dad’s method for preventing this oh-so-avoidable travesty was to park the visiting vehicle immediately behind the homeowner’s car.  Like…lock-your-bumper close.  So when the driver got in their car to back up, the proximity of items in your rearview mirror [that may impossibly be closer than they appear] surprised the shit out of you before you could even get your foot on the gas pedal. 

Well – gotta run so I can buff some scratches out before returning my rental car.

Barback

Ever since Blondie opened the wine bar, whenever people ask me what I do for a living I like to say “barback”. Not only does this answer get a much better response than “accountant” [in that people don’t turn around and start talking to other people], but it allows me to include shameless wine bar promotion from the very start of the conversation.

Of course...the suggestion of my employment at the shop elicits nervous laughter [and a barely discernible tic] from the proprietor.  I think her worst hospitality nightmare involves me saying ANYTHING other than “hello and welcome” [Such as this purely hypothetical customer/McC exchange….

“You say cabernet franc, I say cabernet frank....but hey...~tomato~, ~tamahto~, eh?.....Speaking of maters – you should try the tomato….I mean margarita….pizza….I mean flatbread.” 

Seriously, if Blondie had to choose between the sink backing up or me working the floor, I think she would choose the sink backing up.  [Perhaps because I mention things like the sink backing up for absolutely no good reason.]

How desperate would things have to get before I am pressed into service?  Well, quite frankly, I.  Don’t.  Know.   – as that level of desperation has yet to be seen.  Which is saying a lot – given a few of those early days.  Honestly, her contingency staffing plans go something like this:

• The neighbor who got fired from TGI Fridays
• Self-serve wine night
• me

I’ve actually gotten the call twice.  And both times, Blondie ultimately decided not only did she not need me to work the floor, but upon further consideration, she didn’t need me to handle the cash and the glasses were clean enough.  That’s right....Blondie said wineglasses were clean enough. 

 So I guess the truth is, I aspire to be a barback