I just spent the weekend with the Gloyd’s, and I noticed something interesting.

They talk to everybody.

Stranger on the sand? How’s it going? Person sitting next to you at the ballgame? How long have you been a Dodger fan? Waitress at a restaurant? When did you move down from new Jersey?

I have made a decision. I have concluded that “Kind” is the new “Cool.” We all strive to be cool, how about striving to be kind. How much time is wasted trying to impress people, rather than impress on them the reality that they are important? It starts here. If you’re reading this, I like you. Tell me something interesting about yourself.

On Wednesday, the dmh picked me up at work on the way to Ash Wednesday service. He commented on the building, and I jokingly said, “Yup. There’s my home.”

As soon as I said, it realized it was true. In the last year I have spent more of my conscious hours in that building than anywhere else. Why? Every day I wake up earlier than I would like, to drive on a freeway I can’t stand, to sit in a room with no windows that I would rather not be in. And my job isn’t even that bad! But still, it seems the majority of our lives is filled with things we don’t want to do.

Well, not today!

Today I’m taking full advantage of the glorious brisk sunny day. I woke up early, put on some Dexter Gordon, started cooking up a pot of cajun red beans over rice, and am currently doing the crossword puzzle.

Take that cruel world! You can’t get me down!

The more Anthony Bourdain I see, the more I love.

6 years ago I picked up a copy of Kitchen Confidential (mainly because I was on a big David Fincher kick, and he was supposed to be directing the film adaptation – with Benicio del Torro in the starring role I might add, too bad it never happened) and didn’t put it down until it was finished. It is simultaneously informative, frightening, and funny as hell.

Last year, I bought his Les Halles Cookbook and it has quickly become one of our favorite go-to place for recipes and stories. He loves food. And he loves food culture. And any chef who uses the f-word so much when describing food has got to be doing something right.

This week, however, I saw two things that surpass all of this.

1. Anthony Bourdain eats a still-beating Cobra heart in Vietnam

and

2. Anthony Bourdain’s opinion on the current Food Network chefs

Rachel Ray: Complain all you want. It’s like railing against the pounding surf. She only grows stronger and more powerful. Her ear-shattering tones louder and louder. We KNOW she can’t cook. She shrewdly tells us so. So…what is she selling us? Really? She’s selling us satisfaction, the smug reassurance that mediocrity is quite enough. She’s a friendly, familiar face who appears regularly on our screens to tell us that “Even your dumb, lazy ass can cook this!” Wallowing in your own crapulence on your Cheeto-littered couch you watch her and think, “Hell…I could do that. I ain’t gonna…but I could–if I wanted! Now where’s my damn jug a Diet Pepsi?” Where the saintly Julia Child sought to raise expectations, to enlighten us, make us better–teach us–and in fact, did, Rachael uses her strange and terrible powers to narcotize her public with her hypnotic mantra of Yummo and Evoo and Sammys. “You’re doing just fine. You don’t even have to chop an onion–you can buy it already chopped. Aspire to nothing…Just sit there. Have another Triscuit…Sleep….sleep….”

Oh, Anthony. You sweet sweet man. You never cease to amaze me.

I can’t believe J didn’t find this one! The ever sensitive and loving lovegodsway.com with the apparently popular title God Hates Fag has a list of bands that parents should not let their kids listen to because, obviously, listening to music can make you gay.

The list includes: Rufus Wainwright, Wilco, Cole Porter, Polyphonic Spree, The Grateful Dead, Sufjan Stevens, The Arcade Fire, Frank Sinatra, Metallica and so so so many more.

The best thing is the little notes they have on the side of some of the artists. My favorites being a) Morrissey (“Questionable”) and b) Elton John (really gay).

See the full list of Gay Bands, but be careful: even one second of Fly Me to the Moon (mp3) can lead to wearing tight pink jeans and talking with a lisp.

You’ve been warned.

- Huh?
- Football.
- Wait? What? Football?
- Yeah, the Superbowl.
- Superbowl? Already? Didn’t we just do that?
- No, that was a year ago.
- Oh. Well, good. I love the Superbowl!
- You do?
- Yeah. Well, the commercials anyway.
- Yeah, those are funny. Did you see the one last year with the wolves?
- The wolves?
- Yeah, the one where the guy let out the wolves and they attacked that school band? That was hilarious.
- That was, like, 5 years ago.
- Really?
- Yeah. It was part of the dot-com Superbowl.
- Dot-Com Superbowl?
- Yeah, the one where Pets.com and Kforce.com had commercials.
- Oh yeah. Hey, wasn’t that one for Outpost.com?
- What?
- The commercial.
- What’s Oupost.com, and why do you have to always bring everything back to computers?
- Why do you have to criticize me so much? I like computers. I can’t help it.
- Well at least you could try to be less of a nerd.
- You’re the nerd!

- Hey.
- Yeah?
- Are you ready for some football?
- Nah, let’s just go watch all the commercials at BowlSpots.com.
- Ooh, good idea. I’ll bring the nachos.