Photo coasters

Because, when you really love someone, you want to set your drink on them.


(Image by Craig Nickels)

**Caveat: Yes, I know you don't have to put photos of loved ones in them. I plan not to. But still...why use that as the example on the box. As further evidence that this was their intended use, I offer up this photo from Crate and Barrel's website:


(Image links to Crate and Barrel's website)

Glasses of scotch placed lovingly on an infant. I rest my case.

I thought it was a passing fancy (or halitosis)

But after God knows how many years, I still enjoy a good Altoid every now and again. Something about the feel of the tin. So classy. So retro. The paper inside. The non-uniform mint shapes that make you think that maybe -- just maybe -- they came from a real confectioner.

Never has tacitly admitting you have bad breath felt so classy.


(Image courtesy of Bilious via Wikipedia)

Necessities for Christmas

I'm not a fan of consumerism. And I'm not a fan of Christmas gifts -- as a general concept. My wife feels the same way, and her way of rectifying this is to ask for necessities for Christmas. Work clothes. New socks. Shoes.

Me? I'd like to feel the same way, but I'm always slightly disappointed by my gifts. No matter how specific I am in my asking, and no matter how well-intentioned the giver is in giving, there's always a slight disconnect between my imagined platonic ideal gift and the actual gift I receive. Maybe it has something to do with going without. It feels like sacrifice. "You mean I wore those faded dress pants to work for 5 damn months for THIS!? I wanted Comfort Fit, these are Individual Fit. I wanted Loose Fit, these are relaxed." Then I feel guilty. Not the same guilt I would have felt -- oh -- actually purchasing the item myself. But guilty. The guilt of inappreciativeness.

Maybe I've only got it half right: I'm not a fan of consumerism, but I love buying things. For myself. And I love the pleasure of finding something that's just right, or exactly what I'm looking for, or unexpectedly perfect. Maybe I'm just fickle. But that feeling is rare.

Sudafed: Hid behind the counter

You know a drug is good when a company is willing to hide it behind the counter rather than halt production. Sudafed, you are now in a category -- a pantheon -- alongside such luminaries as cigarettes, nicotine gum, and truckers' speed*. Congratulations.

* Ephedrine. Or any cheap substitute.