Monday, March 26, 2007

Greetings from The Official Bar. Didn't have much to say, other than there are worse things than hanging out with your best friend, your girlfriend, a newspaper colleague and beer, all in one place, complete with WiFi. Good times.

Apparently, The Ford is not The Ford.

At least, not according to The Official State of Residence.

Y'see, a couple of weeks back, The Ford finally broke down and decided to get a Michigan driver's license. As much as he digs the Washington one, well, it's been a while since he lived among the rolling hills of the Palouse (or near the banks of the Columbia, or whatever natural landmark floats your native Washingtonian's boat).

Of course, in Washington, it takes only a piece of picture ID to prove you are who you say you are.

In Michigan?

One photo ID, plus two more pieces of identification. PLUS two more pieces of identification proving you do, indeed, live in the state of Michigan.

Because so many folks are come from other states to get their licenses while bathing in the warm glow that is Michigan bureacracy.

Somehow, after ransacking The Official Apartment, The Ford managed to pull together the various pieces of ID, including, but not limited to a w-2 form, an electric bill, an old WSU yearbook, a driver's license, a paystub, and, naturally, a certified birth certificate.

Of course, this is where the problem began.

Y'see, The Official Dad wasn't entirely thinking clearly when he filled out the birth certificate, and bestowed a long-ass name -- William Robert Ryan James Vinson Ford -- on his eldest son, Yours Truly. (How, why? Well, it's a long story. Buy The Ford a drink some time to hear more.)

But The Ford's always gone by the much simpler Ryan James Ford. Or Ryan J. Or The Ford. Or The Official Ford of The Official Bar of The Official Blog of The Ford, if you're not into the whole brevity thing, man.

This used to cause some problems with the military, back when The Official Parents were in the service and The Ford needed an ID card to visit them. For years, The Ford was The Official William R.R.J.V. Ford, a mouthful indeed, and even worse on an ID card.

Eventually, even the Feds saw the idiocy of that, and started putting Ryan James on the card.
Which is how The Ford got his Washington license.

Now, everything tags to the real name, but for the purposes of, well, life, The Ford's a generic Ryan James, rather than the oh-so-exotic William Robert... or even Billy Bob, if you share The Ford's crimson-necked roots.

Except in the Michigan Secretary of State's office.

There, and possibly only there, The Ford is William Robert...

Which caused a problem, since, according to that logic, all the ID I presented showing who I am and where I live is for some other Ford, some Ryan James tool.

So, right now, The Ford's case has been sent on to the SecState's Exceptions Department.
Of course, The Ford should have seen the SecState's problem coming.
See, the Exceptions Dept. is in Lansing. Though, in point of fact, the office isn't actually in Lansing, a fact all of the SecState employees point out 3 seconds after telling you they're sending your case to the Exceptions Dept in Lansing.

And so, The Ford asks this: If SecState employees can continually reference a department in Lansing that isn't actually in Lansing, how can they not grasp that William Robert Ryan James Ford's name is not actually William Robert Ryan James Vinson Ford?

Eh, fuck it, man. Let's roll.

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Friday, March 23, 2007

Greetings from sunny Detroit and The Official Bar, faithful readers. (The Ford's tempted to greet all three of you by name, but well, he doesn't want to get anyone in trouble...)

Previously on The Official Vacation of The Official Blog...
Day 1: The drive to Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky (Someday, someone will come up with a decent nickname for that area. For now, The Ford's calling it "Drunkytown")
Day 2: The drive to Atlanta (Complete with late-night Chinese food and a rousing game of "Bar or Strip Club?"
Day 3: St. Patty's Day in Atlanta (Complete with MORE late-night Chinese food, lots of booze, a crashed house party, and a devastating Coug loss THAT NEVER HAPPENED.)
Day 4: The big push to Orlando (Complete with, um, laid-back chilling at multiple hotels)
Day 5: Tigers 6, Reds 2 (Complete with a fun dinner at Chick-fil-a, and a game of miniature golf in which The Ford showed off his mastery of putting.)
Day 6: More miniature golf when the Tigers' game vs. the Pirates is sold out (Complete with a Duval-like collapse on the first 27 holes of the miniature golf rematch, and a stunning recovery for par on the final nine, plus, well, lots of drinking on the course. All miniature golf courses should sell beer by the bucket.)
Day 7: Universal Studios (Complete with several rides, some good ribs, some Spider-Man underwear, and a viewing of "300." It might be impossible for The Ford to top this level of geekiness for a while.)
Day 8: Tigers 5, Indians 4 (Complete with a blown save by Jonesy, a ninth-inning rally by the Tigers, and 3 hours of driving immediately following the game)
Day 9: 18 additional hours of driving (Complete with the WORST waffle The Ford has ever had, at a Waffle House clone in Georgia

Anyway, enough with the recap... The Ford's got three more days of vacation left. What does that mean for you, Official Readers?

Probably not much, though there is the possibility of posts during a marathon baseball draft session tomorrow...

Tonight, though, there's... LINKS!

The Ford applauds this effort out of the nation's capitol, but can't help but feel there's a SLIIIIIIGHT Beltway bias...

You never like to see anyone get hit by a car (unless they're a F'Usky), but the really interesting thing in this story is that North Carolina's mascot is apparently named after a condom. Good to know.

Tigers 6, Reds 2 (Monday)
Kenny Rogers looks good, and it looks like Zumaya's abandoned any idea of easing up on the fastballs -- he was hitting 102 mph for the better part of two innings. A good thought, especially when his change-up drops down to 83 mph like it did Wednesday.
Tigers 5, Indians 4
Sometimes Todd Jones just falls apart on the mound. Ugh. Though the worse thing might have been the Tigers teeing off on Fausto "Terrible Closer" Carmona for upwards of 10 hits, and scoring only 4 runs, thanks to 6 double plays. Best comment of the night from The Official Drinking Buddy, uttered when Polanco came up for the first time all night with no runners on base: "Right now, Polanco is trying to figure out how to hit into a double play with nobody on..."
Also, Bonderman, well, he's The Official Tiger of The Official Blog, but it can be tough when he starts nibbling at the corners with a sizable lead. Once he figured out to just chase hitters with his heater, things settled down. Still, the Opening Day starter went only five innings, with only one start left in Lakeland. Go figure.

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Monday, March 19, 2007


Stupid Preds. Good hockey team. Bad move.


Hurricane Ford finally hit last night.

Quick trip recap: Left the 313 on Thursday, went through Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia and finally arrived in Florida on Sunday. Think of it as something approximating Sherman's march to the sea, but with more drinking, and less burning.
This brings The Ford's states visited up to 33.

create your own personalized map of the USA
or check out ourCalifornia travel guide

So far, no real damage, other than a nice little sunburn from the Tigers' 6-2 win this afternoon. Apparently, The Ford's new Tigers jersey honoring The Official Tiger of The Official Blog of The Ford did little to prevent excessive redness. Good to know.

If only he'd been on the cool list -- note to self: fire publicist -- and gotten to hang out with Mike Illich and Al Kaline in the owner's box in Lakeland. Bet it was shady up there.

Then again, with snow reportedly falling in Detroit this morning (a rumor which spread through the stands at Joker Marchant faster than a Paris Hilton joke through the cultural elite), The Ford could probably do without some shade this week.

Staying in Orlando is making The Ford long for a bit of sublety, at least as far as business names go. The Ford's lost count of how many Chinese food places he's seen called, simply enough, "Chinese Buffet," or even worse, "Chinese Food." Which makes him wonder how people ever meet anywhere for dinner here.

Next up: More drinking, more baseball (Tigers-Pirates in Bradenton with The Official Ex-Competition), and, um, more drinking. Perhaps even more sunscreen.

Any questions? Probably not, but if you're wondering, dear reader, The Ford'll be hanging out at "Chinese Food."

See ya there.


Sunday, March 18, 2007

He's back!

Yeah, it's the all new Ford, back in the blogosphere.

Um... wahoo!

So, what happened?

Well, long story short, The Ford's Internet connection at home went a bit wonky, and, yadda yadda yadda, he went about 6 months without a new post of any signifigance.

What's covered in those yaddas?

Not a whole lot that's interesting, but if you really want to know, well, you've probably already contacted The Ford to find out. If not? Well, screw you.

The Ford's sitting in Atlanta this fine morning, running The Official Computer just a few blocks from Turner Field in the middle of his road trip to Florida for spring training.

(God help the grammarian who tries to parse that sentence...)

The Ford has had quite a 24 hours here in Tepid-lanta. (So named for its sudden cold snap.) There's nothing like crashing a house party in the gayest neighborhood in Atlanta -- actually, The Ford can't say for sure it's the GAYEST, per se; let's just say it was really gay -- getting booted from said party (twice) watching the Cougs basically collapse against Vandy, making friends with a North Dakota alum who just wanted to watch hockey on one of the biggest college basketball days of the year, catching a shuttle to a gay bar, bailing on the gay bar for a strip club, bailing on the strip club when a taxi magically appeared, and then bribing The Official Drinking Buddy to stay down in The Official Hotel Bar for an extra hour to give The Ford some, er, alone time with The Official Girlfriend.

Got all that?

Oh, and then An Official Coworker called, drunk off her ass, and the room decided to order Chinese food. And did The Ford mention The Official Girlfriend's search for The Official Glasses of The Official Girlfriend during a conversation with the Official Coworker, all while wearing The Official Bedsheet Toga and The Official Sun Hat of The Ford.

Yes, quite a night.

Really, The Ford could see himself staying in Atlanta for quite a while.

Well, if he weren't decamping for Florida in about an hour.

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