At the expense of my delicate ego, I feel I need to clear up some confusion about me and the spammers’ offer regarding the penis enlargement problem. I seem to have given the impression that my problem is that I have a large penis (Why, oh why, didn’t that ever work in the bars back in the 80’s?) when that is, sadly, not the case.

Let’s examine the spammer message that inspired my last entry. They offered “The permanent fix to Penis Enlargement.” Doesn’t that suggest that having an enlarged penis is a problem that needs fixing? And if enlargement is the problem, wouldn’t making it smaller be the solution?

That’s what prompted my last post. My dangly bits are small enough already; I don’t need a solution that makes them even smaller. I need one that, well, enlarges them. So technically speaking, I need the solution to penis enSMALLment. Hence my last entry.

Look, I know that was the intent of the original spammer message, but it was so poorly written that it negated itself and defeated its own purpose. I want well written, concise spam, not something that means what it doesn’t say. Write it right, spam boys, or stay the hell out of my pants.

But if you’re serious about that whole enlargement thing? I’m in.

Flying home from Georgia the other day, I upgraded to first class for the DFW - Burbank segment. The nice thing about first class — aside from the bigger seats, more legroom, and the whole “commoners to the back of the plane, please” thing — is that they serve dinner up there. While eating this dinner, I had what was probably one of the stupidest moments of my life.

I’m eating a salad — mixed greens with pesto-ranch dressing — and feeling pretty good about myself: “Look at me, Mr. Healthy, eating a salad. Go me!” I eat a cherry tomato, I crunch on a crouton, I spear a leaf of lettuce, I eat a grape– Ack! Full stop!

That grape tasted terrible!

I was expecting a nice sweet juicy little grape, and instead I bit into this bitter, sour, really not-sweet thing. It was pretty gross, actually. But I’m a trouper, I ate it anyway.

And then I reflected on it as I continued eating the salad. What the hell happened to that grape? Was it rotten? Nah, it didn’t taste rotten … at least not quite. But what was wrong with it? Huh, dunno, it was just weird.

A little further into the salad I came across another one of these grapes. I checked it out and it looked okay, so I bite into it. Again, sour, bitter, not-sweet at all. But this time I was expecting it, so it didn’t surprise me. This time I didn’t think it was so bad. Kind of good, actually.

So I started reflecting on what they might have done to a grape to make it taste this way. It was a familiar kind of flavor but I couldn’t quite place it. It was similar to a pickle, but more intense. So I tried to imagine how you would pickle a grape, and why you’d want to, and why an airline would then serve such nouvelle cuisine. I couldn’t figure it out. So I kept eating the salad.

I found one more grape as I finished the salad off. I saved it for last. I examined it carefully and didn’t see anything terribly unusual. It was thinner than a grape normally is, and had a weird little cross-hatched cut-out on the bottom and the top was cut off (probably to aid in the pickling process, I figured), but all in all it looked okay.

I bit into it and again got that familiar flavor — pickle-like, but a more intense, fuller flavor. And the texture was different, too, it was meatier than a grape normally is. And that flavor was so familiar… I could almost place it… It tasted like… like… like…

And then it hit me: It tasted just like an olive!

And then I started pondering why a cook might want to make a grape taste like an olive? What’s the point to that, what’s the goal? Why not just use an oli—

And then I realized that I am, in fact, a moron. The grape was an olive!

What a maroon.

I got to get wet this weekend: I went scuba diving on Saturday. I went out on the Sea Bass; we went to Catalina Island and anchored just offshore at a dive site called Crane Point.

I got three dives in and found something … interesting on each of them. On Dive #1 I found a snorkel, which is now living in my dive bag as a backup. On Dive #2 I found a cute little horn shark and a big lobster, while my buddy found a big moray eel, all of whom are still living where we found them. And on Dive #3 I found a skanky old tube sock on the bottom at 45 feet, which I left there because it was A) skanky, B) old, and C) not my tube sock.

Then I sunburned my legs on the trip back in to San Pedro.

After getting home, I barely had time to put aloe vera gel on my sunburn before me, Beth, Zoe and her friend Maya had to rush out the door to go to a Dodger game. We ate Dodger dogs, peanuts, frozen lemonade and a disgusting “Carnation Frozen Malted Cup” while we watched the Boys in Blue stomple all over the Phillies 6-3.

It was a good day.

Watch this. And then … just watch. I’ll bet it really does happen, probably in October.

If there is any question in your mind that our President is an empty-headed moron, the first two minutes of this should remove all doubt.

Guess what I’m doing today?

Friday was Scuba Day for me. I’ve done all my diving up ’til now at Catalina, so I decided to try something new this time out. I drove up to Ventura and went to Anacapa Island on the Spectre dive boat. I liked the Spectre but I’m not sure about Anacapa.

Dive #1 was at a site called Underwater Island. It’s basically a reef that comes within 15′ of the surface and drops down 65′ to the ocean floor. It’s surrounded by sand (almost like an island, hence the name), so the reef itself is really all there is to see. You just swim around it … and around it … and around it. You’re basically just doing laps until you’re low on air, which is what my buddy and I did. I did manage to find a nice dive knife on the bottom — the exact knife I’ve been thinking of buying, in fact — but the girl from my boat who lost it reclaimed it before I was even out of the water.

Dive #2 was at a sea lion breeding area, so we got to dive with the seal lions, which was pretty cool. Visually, it was pretty boring — just sand and a small reef — but fortunately the sea lions were there to liven things up. They’re very playful and oh my god are they fast underwater. They’re like torpedos that turn on a dime, and that dime is often just two or three inches in front of your nose. They love to come streaking straight at you and veer off at the last possible second, or they sneak around behind you and dive-bomb you and swim loops around you. Really, really fun to have them do that. I kept having trouble moving during the dive; I’d be kicking to swim over and look at something and it kept feeling like my fin was hung up in some kep or something, but I was never entangled when I looked back. Some of the people on the boat told me later it was a juvenile sea lion playing with me — he kept sneaking up behind me and biting my fin as I was swimming, hitching a ride from me.

Dive #3 was in a protected area on the front side of the island, where hunting and fishing is prohibited. The reef was in much better shape here, with a lot more coral and wildlife in and around it. We saw a good-size bat ray and a big daddy lobster. There was a lot of coral and sea fans and it reminded me of the reefs I snorkeled in the Bahamas — except that those weren’t in 60 degree freezing cold water.

All in all, it was a pretty good day. I’m going to try another dive boat out of Ventura Harbor — probably the Peace, and I want to dive Anacapa again to see if I like any other dive sites there better. Right now, with my limited experience, the advantage goes to Catalina.

On tap for tonight is a concert at the Greek Theater: Chicago with Earth, Wind & Fire.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, it’s Chicago and Earth, Wind & Fire, two of the greatest hitmakers in 80’s Top 40 … but on the other hand, it’s Chicago and Earth, Wind & Fire. Fortunately, Peter Cetera and Lionel Ritchie are sitting this one out … or unfortunately, depending on your perspective.

On top of that, we’re going with some of Beth’s co-workers, who also used to be my co-workers, and one of them is my former manager whom I absolutely could not stand working with and have managed to go 10 years without having any kind of contact with her despite the fact that Beth works with her daily. So I’m really looking forward to that. But on the other hand we’re getting the tickets for free. (I think. We’d better be. Mental note: check on that, use as possible excuse for bailing if not true.)

And on top of that, we’re meeting them for dinner before the show.

This is gonna be great. One way or another. It’ll be either a great time or a great story. Great.

And now, because I’m sure you’ve all been waiting with bated breath, my thoughts on last night’s concert at the Greek Theater…

First of all, the Greek. It’s a nice venue, very small and intimate; it’s a good place to see a concert. Even the nosebleed seats are fairly low altitude, so there’s not a bad seat in the house — almost. Our seats were pretty good … at first.

Notice I said they were pretty good. We were about halfway down, with good sightline to the stage, close enough to actually see what was going on up there, we had a good view. And then fucking Lurch and his giant stage-blocking head showed up and sat down right in front of me. So this is what the rest of the concert looked like:

But at least it sounded good. I came to the show sort of halfway looking forward to Chicago and kind of “eh” about Earth, Wind & Fire, but I changed my tune pretty quickly once the show started. They opened with both bands on stage together for two or three songs and the whole place was crackling with energy — every single person in the theater leapt to their feet at the first note and it was wall-to-wall dancing as the bands played. This was a crowd that wanted to have a good time.

Then the bands stopped down to schmooze a bit and each talked about how great and inspirational the other was, and then they explained how the joint show worked: the bands opened together and then they flipped a coin to see who played first. The winning band would play solo for an hour, then turn the stage over to the other band who would play solo for an hour, and then both bands would reunite for another half hour to finish out the show. Earth, Wind & Fire won last night’s coin toss, so Chicago took a break while EWF literally rocked the house.

Everyone was on their feet for just about every minute of EWF’s set. They put on a great show with lots of energy and fun and banter and … it was just a great show. The crowd loved it, they loved it, we all loved it together, and everyone was having a blast. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a concert that had such great energy. I was transformed, permanently, into an Earth, Wind & Fire fan.

Then Chicago took the stage. And proceeded to suck every last bit of energy out of the show. They took a stadium filled with people who couldn’t stay in their seats and put us all back into them. Where EWF’s set was all rhythm and flow and momentum, Chicago’s was a study in how to frustrate an audience. They would get into a groove with a song the crowd liked — and then break it up by introducing band members in the middle of it. They’d play a fast song that was an obvious crowd favorite and get everyone dancing — and then follow it with a slow number no one knew. And everybody got a solo — usually in the middle of a song that didn’t really have a natural place for a solo. They did a guitar solo, and a drum solo, and a bass guitar solo, and maybe another guitar solo. They even did a freakin’ flute solo! It was amazing to me what a choppy and disjointed show they put on. I expected better from a band that’s been touring for 30+ years.

But then EWF took the stage again and both bands played the show out together and all the energy returned and it was fun again. It was an interesting contrast, seeing these two bands playing back to back. EWF was the band that wanted you to let loose, have a good time, and had a good time with you, while Chicago was the band that was concerned for your safety so they bored you so you’d sit down and not hurt yourself having fun. EWF was all about “get up, dance, have fun and get crazy!” and Chicago was all about “slow down, sit down, be safe, be careful!”

One band acted its age while the other, thankfully, didn’t.

As I’ve said earlier, Beth loves to talk on the phone, and she calls me about 37 times a day so she can do it. Me, I love getting off the phone, so I guess I should look at it as her giving me 37 opportunities a day to do something I love, too. (Thanks, honey!)

But with all these phone calls I don’t really want to be on, I really need some way to entertain myself. (And, no, talking on the phone is not entertainment. At least not to me.) So I’ve come up with my own fun:

Beth and I will be talking about … well, most of the time nothing, and I’ll suddenly say “Hang on a second” as though something just distracted me. Beth, being ever-polite and a master of telephone etiquette, will agreeably hang on … and on … and on … and on. While I just sit there giggling silently until she figures out that I’m just fucking with her.

That’s some funny shit, boy. It almost makes answering the phone worthwhile.