For The Record

So after about a month and a half, McGruff the Crime Dog finally got her package. It took several calls to His Majesty and visits to see the goat-man, but she finally got it. And she freaking loved it. So Tony Kris gets all sorts of bonus points.

Anyway, I've got her second package prepared. I suppose I should sent it sometime soon. Maybe this time the warlords will be easier to defy.

I've Been Tagged

So apparently I've been tagged. And I must comply. So here we go: Fact, Goal, Random.

1) Fact: I got my grades from my first semester at UBC. Pretty stinking good.
2) Goal: To send McGruff another package
3) Random: I was supposed to be twin girls. My parents had the names "Tanya" and "Tina" picked out and everything. However, whenever Momma Kris gave birth, only one male Tony came out.
4) Fact: I have three major fear: Lakes, Small segmented shapes (like beehives), and trailer parks.
5) Goal: Finish my summer project (I'm writing a book)
6) Random: I once gave a girl diamond earrings on the first date.
7) Fact: I have never gone into any sort of debt.
8) Goal: Get my Ph.D, teach some classes, write some books, never retire.
9) Random: Pretty much any exclamation yell out at random moments comes from a rap song. Key examples: "Collipark!" "Shazam!" and my personal favorite "The Most Beautifullest Thing in this World!!!" (...it's just like that!!! I get in ya!) For real, I say the word "beauifullest" a ton.
10) Fact: I have found that working isn't all it's cracked up to be. Or "real life"
11) Goal: To read a big, long, dumb series this summer (I tried the "Wheel of Time" for a while, but got bored and quit)
12) Random: I think Keith Murray is the most underrated rapper ever. And Jazzie Pha is the most underrated producer.
13) Fact: I really like summer movies. Even if the film is terrible, I'll have a good time eating popcorn. In fact, that's usually what I enjoy the most.
14) Goal: To spend a summer in New Zealand
15) Random: I think that I will always be mystified by women; no matter how old I get, no matter how well I know them individually, they will never make sense to me.

I tag whoever might read this.

Wherein Tony Kris Feels Like A Jerk

At the Taylor Branch, working the circ desk. Guy comes in carrying his infant son.

Guy: "Yes, I'd like to pick up a hold."

Me: (Sensing that the guy looks framilar, but I chalk it up to the probablity of seeing him in Taylor once before) "Alright, what's the name it'll be under?"

Guy: "Target. First name is Easy"

Me: (Somewhat stunned) "Did you go to Big City Middle?"

Easy Target: (Very hesistant) "Yeah..."

Me: "I thought you looked framilar. Anthony Kris (I only started to go by "Tony" while in college). We had some classes together."

Easy Target: (A little scared, holding onto his son tighter) "...You're not normally here, are you?"

Me: "Nah, they just send me here occassionally. Wow, it's been over ten years! You been alright?"

Easy Target: (Not comfortable at all) "I've been well. Do you have the books?"

Me: (A little baffled, but I roll with it) "Lemme check." (Seeing that they're LSAT books and wanting to make conversation that's non-middle school related) "Ah, the LSAT. I took that. It's a pretty daunting test. Not really hard, just long."

Easy Target: (Wanting to get out) "Here's my card."

It's at this point that I realized a vital fact. I spent most of my middle school days bullying and mocking Easy Target. (Not beating him up and taking his lunch money, more like saying that he was dumb, poor, smelly, and an all around human wasteland) I couldn't count the number of times I made him cry. In fact, he transferred out of Big City Middle after 6th grade, presumably because the teasing. I mean, I wasn't the only one, but I certainly didn't obstain when Easy Target was around. Heck, even his name made him an easy target.

So seeing me in the library probably un-repressed a whole slew of bad memories. He'd gotten over his past, gotten a girl who liked him, heck, even had a child. But like something out of a bad dream, evil Anthony Kris is behind the desk at the library. I decide to tone it down.

Me: "Thanks." (Checks out his test prep materials) "Due in three weeks. Take care"

Easy Target: (Sort murmurs a half-parting and rushes out of the library)

Needless to say, I felt like a smuck for all my past behavior. I suppose I reaped what I sowed, even after I'd forgotten about the torment I caused Easy Target back in the day.

Oh well, such is life.

Maybe 4 People in the World Will Get This

You live life and you don't think that you make that much of a difference and then a little thing happens that validates everything.

Watching "Nightline" with my father, when a report comes on about the mortgage crisis and its effect on Baltimore.

(A note: Since I'm going to grad school in my hometown, I've found it perfectably respectable and logical to move back in with my parents after living away from home for college. No sense in paying for rent when I could live at home and save money. I'm not trying to impress anyone, so life at Casa Del Kris seems like a pretty sweet deal. I mean, I'm going to move out for my Ph. D, since it won't be at UBC, but paying rent when I could live for free just seems silly)

Dad: (All the sudden, out of nowhere) "Omar Comin'!"

Yes, I suppose if nothing else my viewing of "The Wire," arguably the greatest show ever on television, has resulted in my dad having an awesome go-to joke any time anything remotely related to Balitmore presents itself in the conversation.

I don't think I've stopped laughing.

An Even Sadder Realization

This weekend, I had a wonderful trip up to my old stomping grounds of College Town, which is located in another state than Big City. After randomly seeing a major rap star whilst filling up with gas, I made the voyage via car from Big City to College Town. (I'd name the rapper, but his name is synonymous with Big City, which would totally reveal any sense of remaining anonymous)

So I roll into College Town, a couple hours early. My frat's reunion was due to start until a couple of hours, and I wanted to check my email to see if McGruff had gotten her package (She hadn't as of yet, but that's not important). Of course, in the two years since I last lived in College Town, a lot has changed. I needed Wi-fi, but I had no idea where to get it. I couldn't go onto the college's campus and use theirs, since I no longer had a valid student ID. I also didn't know anyone living in the area, since everyone's spread out around the country post graduation. All the local coffee shops had closed and I wasn't about to go to Starbucks to pay for their crappy Verizon Wi-fi. But I really needed to check my email and whatnot. So I decided to take a drastic measure:

I purposely went to College Town's branch of the city library and used theirs.

As in, on my day off, during a trip that was meant to be fun, I purposefully went to a library, my place of employment, just to use the Wi-fi. And I actually talked shop with the College Town Librarian.

I swear, I had to go through 5 hours of intense fraternal bonding to get the awful taste out of my mouth. If past me ever gets a time machine and discovers what present me is up to, he'd probably kick my butt. Talking shop with a librarian. For shame, Tony Kris, for shame.

Government Customer Service on the Other Side

So I recently was on the other side of government agency customer service. I don't think I was that much of a problem patron, but if I get mentioned on some post office guy's blog about mailing horror stories, I won't be too surprised.

As mentioned before, I've got a very dear friend (the much alluded "McGruff the Crime Dog") who's currently doing a year as a missionary in Swaziland. Being the nice guy that I am, I decided to send her a care package via the United States Postal Service. Of course, since it's me, I'm not content to do a simple, reasonable care package. No, Tony Kris has to do it massive style. Whenever I was finished loading up the box with all sorts of niceities, it weighed in at 10 lbs. 13.2 oz.

So I walk into the post office with my enormous parcel in hand and go up to the next available counter. Behind the desk, there is an incredibly grizzled old man, waiting to inform me of how much shipping this bad boy was going to cost.

Of special note was this guy's beard, which can be only described as a "goat beard." Now there's a huge difference between a goatee and a goat beard. Goatees are what young hipsters have whenever they get sick of rocking the soul patch. Goatees are "cool," "hip," and "somewhat popular." However, this guy, who must have been working for the USPS ever since Ben Franklin established it, was the owner of a goat beard. It was long, scraggly, and intermixed with gray. To be honest, it wouldn't have surprised me if he was actually a satyr. I half-expected him to whip out some pan pipes and start dancing a jig with his cloven-hoof feet.

Anyway, I'm getting off topic. So I put my package down on the scale, and await Mr. Tumnus' instructions (Bonus points if anyone gets the reference without googling or wiking it)

Mr. Tumnus: "So, where are we shipping today?"

Me: "This right here is headed off to Swaziland."

Mr. Tumnus: "Okay, Switzerland" (Begins typing)

Me: "Not Switzerland. Swaziland"

Mr. Tumnus: (Looking confused) "Swaziland? Never heard of it"

Me: (Not wanting to get into the whole "Swaziland is indeed a country" debate once again) "Trust me, just look it up." (Starting to spell out Swaziland)

Mr. Tumnus: "Ah, you're right! Swaziland! It's right here!" (Begins typing some more) "And it looks like it's in Africa..." (Stares at me dumb-foundedly) "Good lord boy! In my 35 years of working at this post office, I've never had anybody send anything that large, that far!"

Me: (In disbelief that he's worked at the post office for only 35 years and expecting him to still whip out the pan pipes) "How much is it going to cost?" (Wanting to be done with this, since everyone in line is starting to realize that it's going to take a while for all my postage to be taken care of)

Mr. Tumnus: (Still wanting to talk about how far Swaziland is from Big City) "Gadzooks!" (He actually said 'Gadzooks') "This is going to probably cost a fortune! Who are you sending this to? Your girlfriend?"

Me: "No."

Mr. Tumnus: (Trying to justify my desire to send a huge package overseas) "Then it's got to be your wife or fiancee!"

Me: (Though I'm not opposed to the idea) "Nope. Just a care package for a friend. Lots of American stuff she can't get there." (Like Pop-Tarts, for example.)

Mr. Tumnus: "Well, you've got to declare everything for customs."

Me: (I quickly do so, wanting to be as speedy as possible) "Here you go."

Mr. Tumnus: "Holy Cow! Now, do you want to send this overnight express, priority, or ground?"

Me: (Not wanting to spend a fortune) "Nothing in there is perishable, so ground's okay."

Mr. Tumnus: (Typing away) "Well, it looks like ground's off the table. You're going to have to do priority at the lowest, because...

I SWEAR I AM NOT MAKING THIS REASON UP! I cannot make that clear enough

Mr. Tumnus: "...it looks like the warlords have gotten pretty bad."

(Okay, one would think that if warlords were a problem, the least technologically advanced shipping method would be preferable. You'd think that planes and trucks would be taken over at a high rate. But no, it's the slowest transport that's off the table. I'm assuming that the extra money has to spent on bribes. Like I paid for my package to be sent via plane, but it's actually going on donkey back with the extra money used to pay off warlords from getting their hands on McGruff's Pop-Tarts.)

Me: (Scared of the price) "Priority is fine"

Mr. Tumnus: (Really REALLY loudly) "HOLY JEEZ! It's going to be $80.42!

Me: (Actually quite pleased. Way WAY lower than I feared) "Wow. That's quite reasonable."

Mr. Tumnus: "I've never, ever had anyone spend that much on postage! Holy Cow!" (I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack. Either that or I'd have to offer him a tin can just to calm him down) "And her name is McGruff the Kris?" (He's trying to finish the form so I can get out of there)

Me: "No. My name is Tony Kris, her name is McGruff the Crime Dog.

Mr. Tumnus: (Totally serious, like not even winking at me or anything.) "Not for long it's not. Whenever she gets this, she'll want to be McGruff the Kris."

I felt incredibly awkward after that. I paid my money and quickly got out of there. Still no word if the package made it through the warlords yet.

Up Next, The Dagobah 500

Still in Middletown, where I saw this amazing sign during my lunch break:

A quick note, Middletown is like white flight personified. All they've got there is rednecks and political signs for "Boner Leroy," (which is not his real name. His actual name is much dirtier, no lie) My favorite pastime whenever I'm working in Middletown is to blast some Ghostface Killa with my windows rolled down. Just to frighten the residents a little bit, which could possibly result in their moving even further away from Big City.

Anyway, this was a sign in front of some local establishment in Middletown. Verbatim.

Nascar

Ready for Talladega, We Are

I had no idea Yoda was such a fan of stock car races, let alone resided in Middletown.