With all due respect

It's funny how people who use the phrase "with all due respect" treat it as if it's a get-out-of-jail-free card to tell you to go f#%k yourself.

I overheard a conversation at the agency I'm working at today, and an account person was on the phone saying, "With all due respect, that absolutely is not what we agreed to and I don't know why you think I'd ever agree to something like that."

It may have been her husband. There's no way of knowing.

I do hope it wasn't a client, vendor, new business prospect or freelancer, because thinking a saying gives you carte blanche to insult someone and actually having carte blanche are two different things.

With all due respect, you're a freakin' lamebrain if you think otherwise.

The Long Ranger

I'm not usually one to go by what the critics say. I'm of the belief that whether it's music, movies, plays books or restaurants, a person should see it for themself then make up their own mind. One man's ceiling is another man's blockbuster and all that.

I found out last night this is not true in all cases. When it comes to The Lone Ranger - and you'll thank me for this - listen to the critics.

I can count on half a hand the number of movies I've ever walked out of. Even the crappiest movies have a great line or moment, a memorable effect to get you talking, a nuanced performance in the midst of the badness. An actor who's always great no matter how terrible the script is. The Lone Ranger has none of that.

I couldn't get out of the theater fast enough.

It's just a mess with an identity crisis. Does it want to be a drama with a touch of comedy, or a comedy with some drama? It's supposed to be a period piece, yet even the Indians in the tee-pees are saying things like "not so much."

You never really think about a consistent tone in a movie until there isn't one.

Also, when did it become necessary to explain the origins of every character's situation, how they got to be who they are. It seems like the first five hours of the film are letting us know everyone's backstory. Whatever happened to just hitting the road running - making the assumption the audience is already familiar with the character, which would be the point of making a film starring a character everyone knows, or giving them credit for having enough imagination to just jump in and hang on for the ride.

This is not a problem unique to this film. Tell me again how Superman got here, why he can fly and why bullets bounce off him. I didn't get it the first seven times.

Regardless of what you know about movies, I'm sure you know editors play an essential part in shaping a film. Apparently The Lone Ranger didn't have one. It seems like every single frame they shot is on the screen. It is the most unnecessarily long and unwieldy film I've almost ever seen all the way through.

I'm sure my show from last night hasn't let out yet.

I had a special interest in seeing this film. Thanks to his friend's aunt who worked on it, my son and his friend went to the shoot in Moab and actually worked as production assistants for a few very hot days. I love my son, but even love has its limits. Mine stops at sitting through all twenty hours of The Long Ranger.

I like both Armie Hammer and Johnny Depp. But Hammer was a monumental bore ("Who was that masked man?" "Who cares?") and has nothing at all to work with in the way of a script. Depp is essentially recycling Jack Sparrow, only this time it's a crow instead of a bandana. His eccentricities are forced, and his Injun-talk is really just another version of Sparrow's slurred speech.

It was unusual to hear the Lone Ranger's signature line "Hi-yo Silver away!" coming from the audience instead of the screen as they walked out the door. BAM! Thank you, I'll be here all week. Tip your waitress.

If you want a Lone Ranger story that's actually entertaining, try this one by Jay Thomas about Clayton Moore, who played him for years on the TV show a lot of us grew up with:

Drinking problem

I think the same thing every time I eat at one of those restaurants that has a menu with more pages than a Stephen King novel. Exactly how many choices do we really need in life?

Especially when it comes to something so seemingly simple as water.

The case you're looking at overflowing with water bottles is at a store called Lazy Acres (no it wasn't named after me - but it could've been). This store replaced our local Bristol Farms. When we bought our house the sellers (don't get me started) must've told us a thousand times there was a Bristol Farms a few minutes away. Apparently this was a very big selling point. My theory is they thought if they kept saying it often enough we'd be distracted from the water damage in the back of the house that, ironically, they didn't mention even once.

I know I'm still talking about water but I may be veering off into another post.

Anyway, it just seems to beg the question: how different can all these waters really be?

The one that caught my eye was this nice, expensive bottle of essentia water, which says it's "super hydrating water" right on the label. Color me old-fashioned, but I thought all water was hydrating. I guess super hydrating means it's wetter than other water.

If I wanted to be super hydrated - and I'm not saying I do - wouldn't I just drink more of my regular water?

There also seems to be a kind of water intimidation happening in certain restaurants now. Waiters will offer patrons a choice of bottled water or tap water. The question alone is designed to pressure you into bottled water because obviously people of refinement and good taste would never choose tap water.

On Penn & Teller's Showtime show, they did a great exposé on the marketing fraud that is bottled water. You can see it here (it starts at around the 16:47 mark, just after the piece exposing the fraud that is Feng Shui).

If you're thirsty for some good advice, here it is: fill your bottle up from the tap. City and state municipalities have much stronger laws and safeguards regarding drinking water and what does or doesn't go into it than the bottled water companies.

Of course if you like your water super hydrating, alkaline infused, vapor distilled, with added electrolytes or negative ions, then by all means keep dipping into the college fund and buying bottled water.

But don't be surprised when your Starbuck's money dries up.

Don't ask: Picking up at the airport

So, this is the second in my series called Don't ask. The first was on moving, and now airport pickup.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I've never picked anyone up from the airport. It's just that unless you're my wife or one of my kids - and I'll know if you're lying - I'm not doing it.

I know what you're saying. If I don't pick you up, how will you get home? Admittedly, it's a dilemma. If only there were some kind of transport, a carriage service if you will that you could hire with the currency of the realm to give you a ride to the address of your choosing.

See where I'm going here? Because where I'm not going is to pick you up after your flight.

So safe travels, smooth sailing, and happy landings. I'll see you when you get home.

Right after the cab drops you off there.

The un-giving tree

Like many of you, I have a money tree in my backyard. Frankly, it makes things a lot easier. When the pile of bills gets higher than Amanda Bynes at Chateau Marmont, I can simply run out to the backyard, pick a few of the ripe Benjamins and take care of business.

Oh, huh, what...sorry, I'm always groggy when I wake up. I was dreaming about my money tree again. The problem is while I wish I had one, people who want money from me seem to think I actually do have one.

Like so much of life, timing is everything when it comes to the bills. In our house we have a system that looks great on paper, but clearly has its drawbacks.

There's a tray near the front door for the mail. All the mail for all four of us go into this tray. Then, when I get around to it, I separate my mail - which includes the bills - from everyone else's and put them in another tray in the dining room.

Here's the tricky part: sometimes (and by sometimes I mean always) bills get mixed in with other peoples mail in the first tray, and I don't discover them until after their due date. That due date also creeps up on the bills I've put in the second tray.

I really need to check that tray more often.

What usually happens is I forget about the bills, then start thinking, "Hey, look at all this money in my checking account." That thought right there? That's my cue to look at the bills.

The past due bills.

So I break out the checkbook and start paying the piper. But because I thought I had the money, I was spending the money. It runs out way before the bills do (due).

This is where the money tree comes in handy. Or would if I really had one.

What I need to do is provide a better role model for my children when it comes to managing money. I simply have to realize there's no money tree, and start organizing my bills in a more adult and responsible way to make sure there's enough money to get them all paid on time.

Right after I buy my lottery tickets.

The luckiest actor alive Part 2: Channing Tatum

Astonishing charisma. Gritty realism. Award-winning performances. Channing Tatum has none of these.

What he did have is what every other good looking kid from Alabama who spent weekends at the local movie house had: a Greyhound bus ticket and a dream.

Unfortunately his dream is every movie lover's nightmare.

Performance after endlessly dull performance, Tatum walks through movies, smiling and posing then calling it "acting." It's a bad imitation of the male stars he used to see in that dingy Alabama theater. It's also the way he thinks the character would act, if the character were a bored and boring individual getting by on his good looks alone. It's what I like to call "model acting." He knows how to walk around and look good. Worse, he thinks that's enough, just like it was when he modeled for Abercrombie & Fitch.

Every one has to start somewhere. But Ricky Martin's She Bangs video? Some people will do anything for $400.

You have to wonder who he has pictures of, or who he took pictures with. It's hard to figure out how the Hollywood fame lottery works. There are a million guys who look good and actually can act, but maybe they don't play the game as well as Tatum does.

It is amazing how many different types can be lucky in Hollywood. My last luckiest actor post was about Jonah Hill, who'll certainly never be mistaken for Channing Tatum. But at least, as he proved in Moneyball, has some acting talent besides being the funny fat guy.

He can also be the serious fat guy.

Tatum is quoted as saying, "I've been able to explore life, and through exploring it I've found that I love art, I love writing, I love acting, I love all the things that make sense to me."

I just wish it made sense to the rest of us.

A tip for restaurants

I enjoy going out to eat. Whether it's alone or with friends and family, it’s one of life’s little luxuries and I’m grateful I’m in a position to do it almost as often as I like.

I also happen to enjoy good service. It’s like great art: you know it when you see it. And when I’ve been on the receiving end of an attentive, prompt, knowledgeable, intelligent, humorous, caring, alert food server, I have no problem showing my appreciation by saying it with cash in the form of a generous tip.

What can I say. I’m a giver.

What I don’t need is a Gratuity Guideline on my check. Especially one that starts at 18%. If the service has been lousy, 18% is going to be an impossible dream for the server.

For me, this has exactly the opposite of the intended effect. Instead of being grateful for them doing the math for me, I resent the fact they want me to consider the tip at a certain starting amount, regardless of the quality of the service.

From what I can tell, most of the time the wait-staff is a little embarrassed by it as well.

If they’re going to give me guidelines on how much I should leave for a tip, I’d like to offer restaurants the following guidelines on how to run their business.

First, hire people who want to be there. Really nothing worse than a waiter or waitress who makes you feel like they’re doing you a favor by taking your order. Don't make me wait until the mood strikes you before you come over.

Make sure your staff knows the menu. Enough with “I’ll check with the kitchen.” They should know the menu as well as they know their next audition time. They should also know the ingredients in every item, if substitutions are allowed, and what the specials are.

Remember the reason we’re there is because we’re hungry. The fact their job description has the word “wait” in it shouldn’t be taken literally. Whether they’re bringing the food or an expediter is, it should arrive promptly and hot if it’s a cooked item.

Clear my table as you go. I hate trying to navigate the battlefield of used plates, glasses, soiled napkins and silverware. No I don't want to "hang on to my fork." When you bring some, take some away.

Find a balance. Don’t come by every two minutes asking if everything’s alright, but don’t disappear entirely either. Strike a balance between being a good server and annoying the crap out of me by asking me questions every few minutes while I’m trying to enjoy my meal. And when you ask, it'd be better to do it when I don't have a mouthful of food.

Do laundry. Whether you wear your own clothes on the job or the restaurant provides a uniform, make sure it looks clean and crisp. It not only reflects on you but, in the same way a clean car runs better, it makes the food taste better.

Don't bring the check in the middle of the meal. And don't say, "I'm just going to leave it here. Take your time." When you bring the check before I'm anywhere near done, what you're really saying is, "Here's your hat. What's your hurry?" The other thing the check says is you're done with me. And I don't want you to be done with me until I'm done with my meal.

Stop upselling me dessert. I know this comes right out of the manual and you're required to do it. But be the William Wallace (look it up) of the dessert tray and strike a blow for independent thinking. If we've had enough food to feed an army, and look like we're going to explode, don't ask about dessert. Just bring the check.

There's definitely more advice I could dish out, but that seems like a good start. Don't worry about tipping me for it.

It's on me.