Cap’n Ken’s Homespun Wisdom

I needed an updated database driver for my PC today, so I went out to the net to fetch it. And in addition to the standard-type End User License Agreement, I was presented with these conditions to agree to before downloading:

• I am not a citizen, national or resident of, and am not under the control of, the government of: Cuba, Iran, Sudan, Iraq, Libya, North Korea, Syria, nor any other country to which the United States has prohibited export.

Yes, I”m a U.S. citizen and don”t live in any of those places, but the whole under the control of smacks of an X-Files episode. How do I really know Fidel Castro isn”t the one who let the Little Black Dog loose on my street for us to find and take in? God knows the wife and I are under the control of that little f*cker.

• I will not download or otherwise export or re-export the Programs, directly or indirectly, to the above mentioned countries nor to citizens, nationals or residents of those countries.

Man, that”s a lot to avoid. I have to not export - or re-export directly or indirectly to people who may not live in those countries but who may just be from those places? Jeez. So if Samir from Sudan lives in New Jersey and hacks in to my PC looking for MP3s and ends up downloading this file, I go to jail?

• I am not listed on the United States Department of Treasury lists of Specially Designated Nationals, Specially Designated Terrorists, and Specially Designated Narcotic Traffickers, nor am I listed on the United States Department of Commerce Table of Denial Orders.

Um, I don”t think I”m listed in any of those things, but can you ever be sure about something like that? I Googled the Specially Designated Nationals list and found no reference to Cap”n Ken among Usama, the Taliban, etc. (although I have to say it would be tempting to join The Horror Squadron if not for the software ban). Nor am I on the Specially Designated Nacotic Trafficker list (sneaking Maker”s Mark into the Sugar Bowl past the Air Force MPs doesn”t count, I guess) or in the Commerce Department”s Table of Denial Orders. So I guess I”m clean there.

• I will not download or otherwise export or re-export the Programs, directly or indirectly, to persons on the above mentioned lists.

Now I have to keep updated copies of those lists on me?? Jesus. I think I”d get a clue if the vice president of The World Islamic Front for Jihad Against Jews and Crusaders came up and wanted to borrow my database driver, but I”m supposed to know not to give it to the Atlanta branch manager for Technology and Development Group of London? That”s a lot to ask, dude.

• I will not use the Programs for, and will not allow the Programs to be used for, any purposes prohibited by United States law, including, without limitation, for the development, design, manufacture or production of nuclear, chemical or biological weapons of mass destruction.

OK, assuming you”re not Usama, the Taliban, The Horror Squadron, The World Islamic Front for Jihad Against Jews and Crusaders or Technology and Development Group of London, I can let you borrow my driver disk unless you want to use it to build a database of those marijuana plants you have growing in your basement?

Of course, I clicked the little “I Accept” box next to each of those conditions. But now I feel this huge responsibility to keep the database driver safe from terrorists.

I was tempted to click Continue with the box about the watch lists unchecked, but I got the feeling if I did that John Ashcroft would be waiting for me at my desk in the morning.

Nothing raises a person”s profile like winning a national championship.

And this week, in the wake of LSU”s domination of Oklahoma to win the 2003 NCAA football national championship, LSU head coach Nick Saban has a very high profile, not just among NFL owners, but also by web searchers who end up here at CKHW.

Since the first of the year, folks have made it to the Wisdom by searching on the following Saban queries:

• nick saban arab background
• hey nick saban
• nick saban is sexy
• nick saban AND jewish
• nick saban jewish
• Nick Saban Jewish
• is nick saban jewish
• Nick Saban sexy

I don”t think Nick is arab; I”m not sure whether or not he”s Jewish - and I wonder just a bit why that seems to matter to a good number of people - but he is damned sexy. He”s the sexiest coach LSU has had since Paul Dietzel back in the 1958 season, in fact.

Here”s a particularly sexy picture of Nick from the 2001 SEC Championship game:

For thousands of years, humans have struggled with a burden that is uniquely ours in the animal kingdom - wiping our asses after defecation.

But, at long last, ass wiping has met its technological match in the Jasmin Washlet toilet seat from crapper-making powerhouse TOTO.

I don”t know how long the Jasmin has been on the market, but it was featured in a “house of the future” at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas this week.

TOTO bills the Jasmin as “the ultimate in luxury.”

My idea of “luxury”, however, has more to do with expensive cars, fine linens and gourmet foods than an automatic ass-washing toilet seat.

This from TOTO”s product brochure:

To help you create the ambiance of a spa in your own private retreat, TOTO has created the Jasmin Washlet … that takes luxury, comfort and hygiene to a whole new level.

Pamper yourself with Jasmin”s gentle aerated front and rear warm water cleansing feature. Activated by a convenient remote control, the Jasmin allows you to adjust the water temperature, water pressure and the direction of the gentle aerated system.

The massage feature uses a gentle cycling action that alternates between front and rear washing for unparalled comfort.

Follow cleansing with a touch of a button for a mild air dry that can be adjusted to three temperatures. All while you relax on an inviting heated seat that can also be adjusted to the warmth you prefer.

So it not only washes and dries your ass, but also “massages” it? I think that”s illegal in Georgia.

All of this “luxury” comes with a $1,200 price tag as well.

For more information, or to find an ass-washing toilet dealer near you, visit TOTO”s Jasmin page

The wife did a fine job posting my called-in Bourbon Street reports (ala Charlie Arnold) Saturday night, but the trip down to see LSU win its first national championship in 45 years deserves a bit more attention. I was too wiped when we got home last night to get to the bloggin, so apologies for making all you loyal CKHW fans wait.

So TCL and I headed toward New Orleans Saturday morning. I think I helped Sirius sell another unit, as TCL was obsessed with the Blues stream.

The trip down was uneventful, and we made it in about 6 hours flat. Our LSU car flags didn”t fare too well (I got mine at Albertson”s, so I guess I should have expected that) at 85+, but it was good to get down in time for a late lunch. Food, of course, is a key ingredient of any trip to Louisiana, so that was Job 1.

Actually, it was Job 2. On the way to the restaurant - which I”ll call “20-Minute Muffaletta” - we hit the closest daquiri shop. The south Louisiana daquiri-shop daquiri is one of the few non-bourbon drinks TCL and I actually seek out. Thirty-two ounces of 151 rum-infused slurpee makes for a swell afternoon.

So we grab the daquiri quarts and head over to wait 20 minutes for somebody to make us a muffaletta. We toted it home (the 20 minutes were well spent - it was gooooood), chowed down and killed the daquiris.

It took some time for our krewe to arrive - TCL”s brother, his wife, another couple friend of TCL”s little sister and her husband (with whom we were staying) and a big dude named Sam. We headed out around 6, I guess. TCL getting tossed out of Utopia at 8 (see the wife”s post) kicked the night into high gear.

TCL and I ended up leaving the Quarter sometime around 12:30 (after leaving left the rest of the krewe behind) and spent some time at the Circle Bar up on St. Charles. I guess we got home around 2 or so. It may seem like an early night for New Orleans, but it included 10 hours of drinking on top of the 6-hour drive. I make no apologies.

We got up Sunday morning (I have a horrible affliction which prevents me from sleeping late after I”ve been drinking, so I was up at 8:30) and eventually went over to see our boy Dave and his wife & kids. We stopped off to get a poboy at Dolly”s Deli near City Park. TCL spent the first half-hour of our Dolly”s visit sleeping in the car. But after purging himself of the rest of Saturday”s bad stuff, he bounced back.

An hour or so at Dave”s and we headed back to Kenner and called a cab for our trip down to the Dome. The scene around the Superdome was wild, with LSU and Oklahoma fans all over the place (many more than the 79,000 who got inside).

After seeing the lines to get past security outside the Dome (a security perimeter was set up outside, so getting past security did not equal getting in the building), we decided we”d best start our entry process at about 5:15 (for a 7 p.m. game). Just over an hour later, it was our turn to empty our pockets and get a good wanding from a camo-clad member of the U.S. Air Force.

There was no way anybody was getting dangerous metal objects into the game. And, thankfully for the safety of the crowd, the plastic water bottles full of Maker”s Mark we did sneak into the game were not full of the highly-flammable 101 Wild Turkey we left in my trunk.

Our bottles could have been filled with C-4, gasoline or other dangerous, non-metal stuff, and that would have been a problem if TCL and I were, in fact, terrorists. Of course, we are not, but we were forced to endure an hour”s worth of wanding of other non-terrorists who also probably got into the game with contraband that happened to not be made of metal.

See, it”s pointless. But you feel safer knowing I got that wanding, don”t you?

So we get inside and sit down - smack dab in the middle of the Oklahoma section. And I mean SMACK DAB. But we actually enjoyed being in the midst of the OU crowd. I sang “Okie from Muscogee” during the OU alma mater, shouted “Boomer … Esiason” along with their “Boomer … Sooner” chant and generally (in a good-natured way) harassed the OU folks around us. And, as at the SEC Championship, we made $30 off a bet with a fan from the other side.

If you saw the game, you don”t need me to explain it to you. And if you didn”t see the game, you”re not reading this anyway. I did, of course, see Jessica Simpson in the flesh. Our seats were not close enough to tell whether Jessica really was on Accutane, however.

And I have to say the Sooner fans were damn good fans. Passionate but friendly, unlike the jackass fans of Florida, Tennessee, Miami, etc. I had at least a dozen Sooner fans say “congratulations” throughout the night after the game.

When the game ended, we were - of course - pretty damn happy. I don”t mind saying it was a pretty emotional thing watching my Tigers celebrate winning the national championship down on the field in front of us.

We finally made our way out of the Dome and waded into the unreal atmosphere Downtown. Thousands of LSU fans all feeling the same as TCL and I, heading toward the Quarter to celebrate in our city. High fives all around, joyous disbelief on many faces. I”d been trying to set up a place for us to hook up with Dave, his brother and another friend when I turned the corner from Canal Street to Bourbon Street and nearly ran right in to Dave his own self. Obviously, everything was going our way Sunday.

Another 2 hours or so of drinking and wandering, and we called it a night. Home by 2:30, in bed by 3. By about that time, the reality had set in. LSU, National Champions. Of football, even.

It would have been nice to not drive back to Atlanta on Monday, but we had no choice there. The trip back took about 90 minutes longer, thanks to a constant drizzle, more stops for food and pee breaks and my right-rear tire blowing out in a fabulous display of burning rubber in the middle of Alabama. Maybe the wife was right that I should have gotten that slow leak fixed before the trip.

Good morning from New Orleans. LSU is the national champion. More on that later, but I”m compelled this morning to throw a big “bite me” out to ESPN”s Lee Corso.

The first piece of last night”s SportsCenter I saw this morning was Corso, in his infinite wisdom, saying with much confidence that there”s no way LSU would have beaten USC (like it matters) unless - maybe - the game would have been played in New Orleans (which, of course, it would have been.)

Of course, Lee doesn”t say a whole lot about why other than that USC would have been able to move the ball much better than Oklahoma.

Again, the humans just love USC. But let”s look at a couple of facts here.

Even after being held to 102 yards passing, 52 yards rushing and 14 points, Oklahoma averaged 293 yards passing, 146 yards rushing and 42.9 points a game playing the 11th-toughest schedule in the NCAA (before the LSU game).

Even after putting up 342 yards passing, 68 yards rushing and 28 points on Michigan, USC averaged 291 yards passing, 101 yards rushing and 41.0 points a game playing the 37th-toughest schedule in the NCAA (before the Rose Bowl).

LSU, of course, shut down Oklahoma. Oklahoma, of course, is a better offensive team than USC. Oklahoma is also a better defensive team than USC.

But, of course, there”s no way LSU beats USC. We beat the team that is, in fact, better than USC in every measurable category, but there”s no way LSU beats USC.

In the words of the little Mormon kid who moved to South Park … suck my balls, Lee.

(*note: The Wife here. I”m proxy-blogging for the Cap”n, who is drunk on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, and is calling periodically with updates for me to add to his blog. It may be a very long night. All times Central unless otherwise noted.)

8:07 p.m. We were thrown out of our first bar. TCL was talking about the bartender”s big boobs. Now we”re uptown … something about beer specials…

(TCL was yelling in the background. From what I heard, he”s pretty drunk too. I gave the Cap”n two instructions before sending him off this a.m. “No smooching” and “Don”t get arrested.” It”s only 8 p.m. in New Orleans. I better go charge my cellphone and find an all night Western Union. Damn, what does it take to be the guys that get kicked out of a bar on Bourbon Street on Sugar Bowl weekend? Did I mention it”s only 8 p.m.?)

9:54 p.m. TCL makes time with singer at Bourbon Street Blues Co. to no avail. We head back to Bourbon Street.

(There was some woohooing in the background, and something about a 50-year-old woman. I have no idea. I do take great comfort in the fact that the Cap”n is finding time to call his wife every hour. But we”ll see how much comfort I”m taking in it when he calls at 4 a.m. from the Orleans Parish Prison. Next time he calls I”m giving him instructions for the audioblog.)

10:20 p.m. We find ourselves on a balcony on Bourbon Street, thanks to J”s friend from St. Petersburg, who we spotted from the street.

(J is TCL”s sister. She and her husband live in New Orleans, and they were gracious enough to house the Cap”n this weekend. Apparently they didn”t realize her friend was in town. The spotting was a random coincidence. Astronomically random, judging from the webcam shots below. No yelling in the background this time. The Cap”n was calling from the bathroom. And turns out the free audioblog trial isn”t working.)

10:40 p.m. We”re asked to leave the balcony because we”re not wanted here (translation: they”re out of booze, so they OBVIOUSLY don”t want us to stick around). TCL and I are branching out on our own.
(I have a sinking feeling the next call will be from jail.)

11:06 p.m. (I called the Cap”n to tell him that I”m crashing, and to leave any further drunken rants on my voicemail.)

We”re at Mr B”s* on Bourbon and Iberville. It”s quite cool. I endorse it.

(*May have been Mr. P”s or Mr. C”s. It was a bit loud, especially with TCL shouting “this place fucking ROCKS!” in the background.)

12:02 a.m. Midnight in N.O. Our search for a bad strip bar unfulfilled. Lucky dogs at Bourbon and [unintelligible].

(That was the message waiting for me when I woke up this morning. But he didn”t call the house line - our “in case of emergency, jail time, etc.” plan - so I”m hoping that no news is good news.)