Classic Stories - The Muffin Story

ChuckJerry agreed to try my "Great Stories" idea for a website (http://greatonesnj.blogspot.com). We each linked to it from our blogs. Needless to say, I don't think it's taken off too well. So, I am going to dismantle what there is of it and start to transfer the content to here.

What follows is "The Muffin Story". Enjoy.

The year was 199x (5 < x < 9). We were all in that 18 - 23 age, the age of prolonged adolescence, the age of the search for the hook-up and the unnecessary getting high / drunk.

Our gang of guys from Teaneck were routinely co-mingling with gangs of kids (usually girls) from other local North Jersey towns, and on those fun summer nights, we'd all meet up and party at someone's suburban North Jersey house - usually a place with parents who were either (a) not there or (b) were relatively cool with the scene that would develop.

So one evening we found ourselves at this girl's house. For the sake of anonymity, we'll call her Gila. Gila had parents who were out of town, liquor at her house, and friends who were female. She also had a male friend at her house... I don't remember his name, we'll call him Eli. If memory serves, Eli was a socially and physically awkward, ambiguously gay skinny kid with glasses who was there just to hang out with the gang of girls. The entire evening, regardless of what else was happening, Eli was in his own world, creating a techno/house beat with his mouth that can best be approximated phonetically: "oontz-tss-oontz-tss-uh-uh-oontz-oontz-oontz-tss..." and "dancing" in much the way that one would dance at a club with that kind of music.

At some point in the night, I found myself passing out on the couch, due to a mixture of chemicals. After some time passed, I woke up extremely disoriented. It was quiet, the lights in the house were dim and there was nobody in my immediate vicinity. It was hard to focus on (a) when it was and (b) where I was. I woke up, knowing at the very least that I wasn't home. I realized that we'd been partying at somebody's house, and this house was not familiar to me.

Half awake, I found myself extremely thirsty and hungry, which sometimes happens when you wake up from a chemically-induced passing-out episode. I oriented myself enough to locate the kitchen of this house. I made my way over to the refrigerator and opened it. The light blinded me temporarily as I tried to find something to eat and/or drink. Still disoriented, I sifted through this stranger's refrigerator. In a catcher's squat, I looked through the bottom of the refrigerator when I suddenly realized that somebody was behind me.

I whirled around and looked up to see Gila and Eli right behind me, towering over me. Still trying to adjust my eyes to make sense of the situation, my vision comes into focus to see Gila holding out a huge, Costco-style muffin, her mouth chewing a big bite of it. Behind her, Eli was dancing, accompanied by his own "oontz-oontz" beat. The sight was very surreal. As I tried to stand up, Gila asked me "Want a muffin?" but with her mouth full it came out more like "Wanuh muffah?"

In a normal situation, I would've responded either "Yes" or "No". However, the stimulus of them sneaking up on me somehow left me incapacitated to give any kind of response. I staggered back a couple of steps, trying to look at them and make sense of what was happening. Eli continued to dance, though not as demonstratively as he had been. I reeled back towards the couch, still not responding to the question. Gila looked at me with a puzzled look on her face. Not answering the question still, I left the room trying to find my buddies or to make sense of where I was and what was happening.

The story is not much, out of context, but for some inexplicable reason it is a widely appreciated story in the Teaneck story collection.

Two yummy treats

Sometime back I expressed my love for Ginger Altoids. Since this post, I've found them increasingly difficult to locate. The Rite-Aid near my house, which would "stock" them (and by stock, I mean have them sometimes). And slowly but surely, they would never have them in.

After some cursory internet research, I realized the only thing to do was check out Amazon and Ebay. And, sure enough, Altoids will ship you Ginger Altoids. This must be what a pothead feels like when receiving a pound of the best stuff they've received and they can dive in without abandon anytime they want... check out the goods.




Then, I stopped at Wawa this morning to get a quick bite and saw something behind the counter that instantly reminded me of my youth, as much as all the "old school" photos being posted by friends on Facebook.



Backwoods Cigars. The choice cigar of... well... umm... well, the cigar we used to buy from Rocklin's on Cedar Lane and smoke on the deck. This pack of 8 costs less than $7. I texted my brother, MMG, and Joey to let them know that Wawa inexplicably started carrying these and I had to buy them. My brother's comment was simple: "Why? They were disgusting. Are you really going to smoke them?"

And I thought about this. Yes, yes I am. At least one. If I don't get sick, then I'll have one more.

So, is playing online poker legal or not?

While you're all reminiscing about Marty McFly's mom's breast implants (see my last post), here's a question:

Well... err.. see subject. Can you go to Party Poker, Full Tilt Poker, Poker Stars, etc... and deposit money via your checking account, a credit card, etc... and just play online for real money?

But... "Walt", you ask, "Why is this worthy of a blog post? Why don't you just google search for the answer?"

Ahh... "I'm glad you asked," I respond. "I invite you to search the web and give me a lucid, intelligent, well-thought out answer to this question."

And, after you do that and remain as confused as I am, the simple question remains: What are the exact legalities of online gambling? This reminds me of something that sticks with me from my teenage years. I remember smoking cigarettes, underage, in high school and, somehow knowing, that if Rocklin's (Cedar Lane, represent!) sold me cigarettes, they were culpable, not me. Is that similar to online poker? Can I request to play for money, and if a site says, "Sure... we'll take your money.", it's on them?

Can any poker players, or web-savvy individuals, answer this for me?

An alternate 1985

Actual part of a conversation between my brother and I a few days ago:

Me: "You know, think of how much it would help our [state's] economy if casinos, brothels, and drugs were legal across the whole state.

If brothels were legal, not only would people not be arrested for dumb shit like having sex, but women who are forced to turn to prostitution would have protection. The state could regulate this service, making money off of it through 'fees' or taxation or something. [We've discussed this before, so I didn't elaborate more.]

Regarding drugs, fuck it, let's just legalize and regulate drugs already. How many non-violent drug offenders are in prison? Forget about all the money they could make on taxing drugs. [etc, etc... we've also been down this road before.]

The biggest thing, though: they could put a huge luxury casino up in Mahwah in the mountains there. The NYC market, who currently has to travel 2-3 hours to Connecticut or to A.C., would pour out to Mahwah, generating a bunch of income for the state. Did you know that casinos have to give something like 30% of their *profits* back to the state? And think of the jobs that would create..."

My brother, who had been quietly listening and without missing a beat, says:

"Yeah, but do you really want everything to be like Biff Tannen's 1985 in Back to the Future II?"



I cracked up for like 5 minutes. And while this is potentially the start of an interesting discussion, I could do nothing but laugh and think of the alternate 1985 in Back to the Future II.

Basketball Friday

I have a handful of long posts coming up, but in the meantime, to keep my multitudes of readers satisfied, here's some Larry Bird highlights.




And here's some Alvin Williams highlights. I played with him at my gym. His highlight reel is not as impressive as Larry's.

For a Tuesday Laugh

Was there any line delivered better than this in Lebowski, or for that matter, in the history of humanity?

Reunited...

... and it feels so good.



For the first time in years, the Daffys all together on 5/16/09 where they all should be - at a poker table. From left to right: Dustin, Daffy, Pops (head obscured) J. Daffy, A. Daffy, and ChuckJerry.

Birthday Paradox (Math Questions V)

To wrap up this string of math questions... the answers to Part II and III Jerry answered very well in the comments thread. The Monty Hall Paradox (Math Questions IV) is easily google-able... but the gist of it is that if you have a one in three chance of winning a prize (or, identically, a three-card monte winning card), and the host of the game shows you a non-winner of the remaining two options and offers to switch, you have a 2/3 chance of winning if you switch, and only a 1/3 chance of winning if you stay. That is because you will only choose correctly originally 1 out of 3 times, and if you have chosen incorrectly you should switch and will therefore win. This should happen two out of three times. Essentially the host is giving you the choice of "do you want to stay with the option you've chosen? Or, do you want BOTH of the other two?" to which one would obviously say, "Well, I'd rather have the other two." Very counterintuitive and a cool problem

The birthday paradox that Jerry referred to is not a question as much as an interesting fact: In a randomly chosen group of 23 people, the probability that two people have the same birthday is about 50%. So, if you are a teacher and have a class of 23 people and ask them all their birthdays, half the time two students will have the same birthday. More mathematical explanation that you probably care about is on the Wikipedia page, which is linked to above.

The Monty Hall Paradox (Math Questions IV)

Since ChuckJerry provided a lucid, intelligent, well-thought answer to the last two math questions, I thought I'd provide another one. You can easily search for the answer on the web. Please don't. And if you've heard it already, let people guess first. Use your intuition and ponder the following scenario. This is one of my favorites.

Suppose you're on a game show, and you're given the choice of three doors: Behind one door is a car; behind the others are goats. You pick a door, say No. 1, and the host, who knows what's behind the other doors, opens another door, say No. 3, which has a goat. He then says to you, "Do you want to keep your choice (Door No. 1)? Or do you want to switch to Door No. 2?"

Should you keep Door #1? Should you switch to Door #2? Or does it not matter which option you take?

(Chuck, birthday paradox to follow.)

Pumping Gas in New Jersey

The other day I pulled up to a gas station. The attendant was having an animated cell phone conversation, which apparently was more important to him than giving service like the young men who darted over to the car in Back to the Future when Marty first hits downtown Hill Valley in 1955. Anyway, I waited for a little while patiently, and finally said to myself something like, "I'll count to 20 and then I'll get out of the car and say something." Fortunately, he promptly hung up, jogged over and apologized (at least I think he did, his English was a bit unclear) and then we proceeded with our transaction ("Fill it, regular, cash." "Ok, boss.")

But, it got me thinking: it's silly that I can't just get out of the car and start pumping my own gas. As I'm sure you know, it is legal to pump your own gas in other states. I've filled my own gas before while travelling, as I'm sure we all have, and I seem to have the hang of the whole process. Must be some insurance thing, I wondered. If somehow I was to injure myself while pumping the gas, the gas station must be liable.

So later, our of curiousity, I consulted Google. Turns out, NJ is one of just two states where it is *illegal* to pump your own gas. Yahoo! Answers, umm... answers below:

The Garden State is one of two states where it's illegal to fill 'er up yourself. Only gas station owners or employees can pump gas in New Jersey and Oregon -- "the only two states atavistic, sadistic, and masochistic enough to still require thousands of 'professionals' to waste time, money, and inconvenience customers," according to one columnist.

The ban on self-service gas stations is a highly combustible issue and makes for some heated debates. New Jersey passed the law making it illegal to pump your own gas in 1949. At the time, legislators felt it was too dangerous to have untrained people dispensing such a flammable liquid.

That may have been sensible at the time, but pumping gas is much safer today, and some motorists feel the ban is outdated and needs to go. Opponents of the law argue that removing it would lower the cost of gas and make refueling much quicker and more convenient. Proponents of the ban argue that it creates jobs and customers like full service.

Ahh. So it creates jobs. But wait, doesn't that cost the gas companies money to have people manning the pumps? And if it does, would they just charge the higher amount anyway and pocket the profits? Or would it be cheaper for us? This article from three years ago addressed these issues (as well as containing the awesome Beavis-and-Butthead-esque line "Fear of putting it in the wrong hole?"), pointing out that elderly or less mobile motorists rely on not having to get out of their cars. Maybe true, but how do they manage in the other 48 states where they must pump themselves? Why don't New Jersey gas station offer two lanes, "pump your own" and "full service" and charge people like 3 cents more per gallon for "full service"?

I wonder what the real deal is, and why this has not been rectified yet.

Jizz in my Pants

Haven't seen this until recently. It's funny.




It reminded me of this...

Scott Howard for Finals MVP

Now this is fucking funny.