Minor annoyances from an insignificant weekend

1. The Auto Show.

TV stations fawn all over the annual Chicago Auto Show, which cynical me guesses is in very large part to the fact that car companies are huge advertisers.

It’s all hicksville oohs and aahs at the pretty, shiny vehicles.

Why not use the time to take a look at things like how expensive it is to have a car in a big city anymore? or the cost of commuting? or the congestion troubles caused by regional growth that hardly considers public transportation?

Or how about, at a time we are at war, in the Middle East, a look at fuel efficiency, a stressing of it even. I mean, there’s even an SUV now that’s basically a converted semi. And have you ever met a civilian driving a Hummer who wasn’t a dick?

No, with the auto show, size matters. It’s held at the hideously huge McCormick Place, and the show billed itself -- at 1.2 million square feet - the biggest show of its kind.

Why so big?

Because we can, said a press release.

2. The new Burger King ad with the guy from Hootie and the Blowfish.

Darius Rucker must have spent all that money he made in the 90s fronting the most boring band ever, Hootie and the Blowfish, whose CD, Cracked Rear View Mirror was required listening at every white person’s barbecue about 10 years ago.

Now he’s in a Burger King ad, dressed as a cowboy, singing a version of Big Rock Candy Mountain, adjusted with lyrics about a bacon and cheddar melt.

The ad looks like the campy work of whoever puts out those super gay Old Navy spots.

Not to Darius: black people have even higher rates of heart disease than us white folks. And you look really cheesy in a cowboy outfit.


3. Downloading updates.

Am I the only one who this Apple is just a big a pain in the ass as Windows. I am downloading software updates. Because I am a Luddite and only have a phone line, it is going on four hours now.

I got disconnected and had to start over 90 minutes into it. Instead of picking up where it left off, it started ALL over.

There is a special layer of hell where Steve Jobs and Bill Gates live.


4. Sweaters.

There are a few really gross guys at the gym I go to who work out so hard on the aerobic equipment that they look like they’ve been in a wet T-shirt contest when they get done on the machines.

Then they go and use the weight machines all sweaty. Even if they wipe, which they only occasionally do, this is gross.

How fucking rude and/or stupid do you have to be not to realize you are drenched? How hard is it to bring an extra T-shirt with you and change?

I still play basketball with some friends, and they guys who sweat that much bring extra shirts and change into them.

Is this too much to ask of somebody?