Tag Archives: Bernie

“Mad Men” is back and again is awesome. And a titanic meeting of the family dogs

“Mad Men” is back and not a moment too soon, as we’re in the vast television wasteland of mid-summer right now.

It’s a very odd show, different from most others on TV, but it’s been terrific for two seasons. So naturally it’ll be good again this year, especially since they’ve opened up a lot of new storylines with most of the major players starting their own firm at the end of last year.

Some quick hit thoughts from the premiere Sunday night (SPOILER ALERT: SKIP DOWN UNTIL YOU SEE PICTURES OF DOGS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT YET)

**Solid episode, with some really funny lines from, of course, Roger Sterling and Don Draper.

**Loved how mean they’re making Betty Draper, like we’re supposed to believe Don is the victim in this divorce. Please. He’s a cad, always will be.

**Hilarious stuff with the two ladies in the diner who fought over the ham.

**Don Draper has to hire a hooker? Really? Guy gets laid a hundred times in the first few seasons, every woman he meets seems to love him, and he needs a prostitute? That part didn’t ring true to me.

**They’re making Pete more likable, dammit. I hate that guy.

**It was a day that been coming for months, and no one knew how it would turn out.
Cautiously, optimistically, thrillingly, we waited until the day finally arrived.
Saturday afternoon, the two family dogs met each other for the first time.

Sadie (right), my sister-in-law’s seven-pound terrier-chihuaha mix, has always had most favored dog status since she’s come into the family five years ago. She’s a bundle of energy, had a spring-loaded ass (can jump from anywhere to anywhere), and is extremely interested in human food (I’m told she knows what the words “burrito” and “Pizza” mean.)
Anyway, since Julie and I got Bernie a few months ago, we knew at some point the two tiny doggies would meet (though at 10.2 pounds, Bernie is HUGE compared to Sadie).
That day arrived. How’d it go? Well, Bernie was all into Sadie, sniffing her butt and chasing her around my in-laws big house. Sadie was sort of annoyed by Bernie, especially since Grandma and Grandpa’s house has always been her sole domain.
At one point Saturday they had a “pooping in the house” contest, with both leaving their marks on the kitchen floor. Another highlight was their staring contest on Sunday, when for about five minutes they just walked toward each other in the kitchen, and wagged their tails while staring intently in each other’s eyes.
It was the canine equivalent of “High Noon.”

Finally, Sadie went home to New York City, and Bernie remained. They didn’t kill each other, and now hopefully next time they meet things will go more smoothly. Meanwhile, Bernie lays here at my feet, exahusted.
It’s tiring trying to get siblings to like you sometimes.

New stuff my dog is doing. And two companies make stupid decisions

So it’s dawned on me that I haven’t written about our new pooch, Bernie, lately.
And since I’m feeling a little uninspired to rant and rave about something today, here are a few new things that our year-old mini dachsund has been doinground the apartment lately:

** He’s developed a new nickname: The Kleenex Killer. This dog just absolutely loves grabbing tissues and napkins off reachable areas, and shredding them all over the apartment. I walked into our computer room the other day and saw like 15 pieces of napkin. Why is this exciting to dogs?
**On our walks,  he’s decided that some people are worth barking at all the time, other never, and that strange third category: People he barks at sometimes.
Dennis, a former prison guard from New York who walks around the complex every night, got barked at the first few days, then not at all for a while, and then a couple of times last week Bernie deemed him growl and bark-worthy.
I’m not exactly sure what Dennis has done to swing Bernie’s feelings toward him so wildly.

**He may be a European dog. He’s decided he doesn’t want to eat breakfast until noon, and then he chows down at dinner around 9-9:30 p.m. I’m thinking of getting him a French accent and a little beret.
** Bernie has started doing laps around the house, about 10-15 minutes after his late-night walk. He sprints 100 miles per hour (I clocked him) from one room to the other, totally not caring where he’s going or if anyone’s in the next room. I think it’s his idea of nautilus.
** Finally, Bernie has decided that no matter what else happens, he loves to burrow in laundry. Couple weeks ago I left a pile on the couch overnight. Then I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to pee, and found him stuck inside the pile of shirts and shorts. I freed him, and he shot back to his bed tute suite.
Why he couldn’t figure out how to get out, considering he, you know, got himself in there, will remain a mystery to me.

**So I read about two corporate decisions in the last few days that just reeked of stupid.
First, the New York Times has decided it’s undignified to use “tweet,” so it will no longer allow its writers to use the social media word.
My response? It makes the Times look stodgy and old and silly.

And then I read about General Motors, in an internal memo last week, telling its employees that in the interests of brand consistency, they should stop using the term “Chevy.”
Only Chevrolet should be used.
That’ s remarkably dumb. From the great Don Maclean song “American Pie” to the universally-known ’57 Chevy, the word “Chevy” is synonymous with the brand. Everyone instantly knows what you mean when you’re saying “Chevy.”
But yeah, GM, let’s go ahead and tell people not to use it. Ah, the geniuses in corporate America.

How I became a dog person: Introducing Bernie (or Ollie)

Let me start by saying that I’ve never been a dog person.

We had an old English sheepdog when I was little, but he died when I was about 4.

Since then, me and dogs, we’ve had a rocky relationship. Like, Sean Penn and Madonna marriage rocky (Ah, an 80s reference that the young’uns won’t get).

They don’t like me, I wasn’t real big on them. One time my friend Victoria’s dog Zuzu jumped on me and pushed me into a plant she had at her house.

They all laughed. I didn’t.

Anyway, I just never liked dogs that much. They barked, they yipped, all that good stuff. Cats, I loved. Of course, God punished me by making me allergic to cats.

So of course, when it comes time to discussing such things with my then-girlfriend Julie, it turns out she loves dogs. Absolutely loves them. I saw this day coming down the line one day, let me tell you.

That day came last Tuesday. After openly talking about getting a dog for years, but agreeing not to really consider it until we had a house, I got a call from my beloved from her classroom.

“There’s this cute little dachsund that one of my kid’s mothers said just got brought to the animal shelter,” she began. “He’s already a year old, and he’s been mostly trained, since he lived with a family for a long time. Just think about it!”

She said that, and then four seconds later a picture of said four-legged creature appeared on my cell phone.

Seriously, emotional manipulation is so much easier and faster than it used to be, thanks to technology.

So, I considered it. I realized, weighing the pros and cons, that having a little warm, cuddly creature in my life might not be so bad. Plus, it would make my wife deliriously happy, and I always aim for that if I can.

I agreed to meet the little four-legged fella. Saturday we went to the animal shelter where he was staying. He was cute. He did seem excited to see us. Having a dog would have to give me some new blog ideas, right?

And besides, isn’t having a dog kinda, sorta like practice for having a kid?

And so, we bought a puppy. He came home in a little crate Monday afternoon, all 8.6 pounds of him.

We still haven’t figured out his name yet; I liked “Sanchez” or “Federer,” for two of my favorite current athletes, but those were 86’ed.

We’ve got it narrowed down to Bernie or Oliver at the moment; I’m leaning toward Bernie. Bernie Lewis. Sounds good, no?

The first night went well. I went for my first solo walk with him just now. He sniffed stuff, barked a little, and then we went back inside.

This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

P.S. Kyle Singler announced he’s coming back to Duke for his senior season. Can Oct. 15 get here quickly enough? I am already so pumped about next hoops season.