Rebel Prince

You’ve probably heard the murmurings of public-private collusion regarding USAID awarding the contract for Iraqi reconstruction to San Francisco-based Bechtel. This week’s “Talk of the Town” follows the money trail to members of Osama bin Laden’s estranged family in Saudi Arabia. In response to all the general speculation, Bechtel goes on the defensive.

As a matter of full disclosure, though, I will admit to having somewhat of a soft spot for the company. Both of my parents worked at Bechtel for many years, so it’s always been a presence in our family life.

May already? The global parent corporation of the company I work for launched an international intranet page recently, which includes a calendar of (among other events) all company holiday closings for its offices in different countries. Which only underscores how few mandated holidays we Americans have. (I don’t mean to say we should have more holidays per se, but at least more leisure time.) Today our offices in Poland, Germany, and France are closed for Labour Day. In Japan, this Saturday is Constitution Memorial Day, and Children’s Day is on Monday. And the list goes on.

Sunday afternoon at Borders, they were running a sale where you can buy two bargain books and get a third for free. I ended up getting two lovely, weighty, art books published by Taschen, one on Picasso and the other on Van Gogh; my third, free book was a complete Shakespeare anthology, published by Collins. I love getting reference books like this. You feel like you’re acquiring an investment, something you’ll keep and treasure.

I’m still about midway through Bel Canto, but I may shelve it for a while. I’m just not engaged in the plot or the characters, I guess. It has an interesting premise–a South American rebel group, attempting to capture the country’s president, crashes a state dinner and takes hostage the entire gathering of international guests, including a renowned soprano, hence the title–but the whole thing seems to drag.

Apparently I never got around to detailing last weekend’s exploits. Here goes.

Friday after work I went to Olsson’s, a bookstore near my office, to see Jacques Pépin, perhaps my favorite TV chef. (Which reminds me, whatever happened to another favorite from my PBS childhood, Jeff Smith, the “Frugal Gourmet”?) M. Pépin was there to promote his recently published memoir, The Apprentice. He gave a short, entertaining talk and signed copies of his books. I told him how honored I was to meet him, and asked to shake his hand. It was all very thrilling.

Errands: the next morning I went to Office Depot to buy some assorted, little items (magazine files, a letter opener, and so forth), and then went across the street to Scogna to pick up my tux for Sunday’s concert. In the afternoon, I trekked down to the mall at Pentagon City, mainly to finally get a TiVo recorder at Best Buy. I got a good deal on the top model, thanks to an open-box discount. (As some of you know, my attempt to buy a used one on eBay didn’t go well. Long story.) So yes, I am now part of the TiVolution.

Sunday night’s concert, a George Gershwin tribute, at the Kennedy Center was stellar. I bought a ticket to the concert only (opting to skip the cocktails beforehand and swing dance party afterwards). Musical highlights included Megan Mullally singing “But Not for Me” and “Nice Work If You Can Get It,” and Michael Feinstein (whom I used to listen to a lot) with some thoughtful renditions. I’m not such a big fan of Patti LuPone and Tommy Tune, who among others also performed, but it was a fabulous night overall. (No celebrity sightings in the audience, but then again, in Washington, power, which usually comes in the political variety, doesn’t always equal popular on-sight recognition. Can you pick out a Congressperson or a federal agency director in a crowd?)

New in The Onion: the smoking gun… was it the Lhasa Apso, or the scented candles? Also, my Onion horoscope this week: “It turns out only one in every 200 Americans hates your guts. As you’ll soon see, though, that’s still quite a mob.” Heh. A veritable fount of wisdom The Onion is.

Anyone remember the Hollywood Stock Exchange (HSX), where you are given virtual money to trade “stock” in movies and actors? I say “remember” because it’s been forever since I last visited the website to check on my portfolio. I went back today and found that the stocks I bought ages ago have appreciated nicely. The Matrix: Reloaded, which I bought at $29.19 per share, is up 800%. Ah, if only my 401(k) were as lucrative.

The HSX has done away with the music part of its trading. They’ve apparently spun it off into its own website, which definitely has a different feel. It’s a shame, though. I had a sizeable amount of Rufus Wainwright shares, and he isn’t even listed on the new exchange. You win some, you lose some.

…that I love this über-kitschy, martini-swilling, retro cover of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” in its own right? The orchestration is camp-fantastic (love the horn section). Very old-school Vegas. Take a listen at April Winchell’s multimedia page, under “Bizarre Covers” (scroll down about three-fourths of the page, or just run a find command), for this and many more hours of wacky musical oddness.

I went to McDonald’s for lunch today (number three, large, with diet Coke, to go). On the packaging of each item–burger wrapper, packet of fries, and soda cup–there is a sticker, which I am to peel off and perhaps instantly win fabulous prizes. No such luck. (Never mind the fact that the fine print says the contest ended a week ago.) Interestingly, each of my three non-winning stickers has a different way of saying sorry, with a corresponding Spanish translation printed below the English.

One reads, “This time’s not a winner.” Its Spanish counterpart is “Lo siento, no es tu hora de ganar,” which literally means, “I’m sorry, it’s not your time to win.” Of the different messages, I feel this one provides the most consolation (or given the phrasing, more like condolence), as if to assist you in the grieving process by saying, “I’m sorry for your loss. We all win eventually. It’s just not your time.” Heh.