Okay, I really don’t. Happy now?

Apparently we had an exceedingly minor earthquake last night, magnitude 2.7, although to me it doesn’t look so damn minor.

The epicenter seems to have been just east of Mercy Health Center. The Oklahoma Geological Survey would like reports from people who noticed it.

There’s something a trifle askew about this story, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. What do you think?

I live in Oxford, MS, and my girlfriend and I researched the availability of Plan B in this state. We knew there might some puritanical problems with purchasing it here in Mississippi — we have all kinds of arcane alcohol laws and only one abortion clinic in the state, after all — and from what we could tell, a pharmacist can refuse to sell Plan B to a woman on religious/moral grounds. But otherwise pharmacies do carry it, and it should be available to a woman as long as she can prove she is over age 18. As this is a university town and a top-ranked party school, we supposed it wouldn’t be as hard to get Plan B as in other really small, ultra-conservative rural towns. And we also figured that a corporate pharmacy such as Walgreens would be less troublesome to deal with than a mom-and-pop one.

Well, the other day we decided to be extra-safe and to get the Plan B pill from Walgreens here in town. My girlfriend went and requested Plan B, equipped with the knowledge that it’s a non-prescription drug available with ID. She said the pharmacy worker started asking for proof of insurance in order to get the pill. My girlfriend refused and asked to speak to someone in charge. The pharmacist then came, and my girlfriend told him she simply wanted Plan B and that her ID should be good enough. The pharmacist then went about getting the pill, but they also seem to have a policy, a la abortion clinics, of forcing a waiting period of an hour and giving adoption literature to the person requesting the contraceptive. Now, Plan B is just an additional spermicide, not an abortion pill, but that’s another can of worms. In the end, my girlfriend demanded the Plan B immediately, and she got it, but not without a fair amount of interference on Walgreens’ part. They also insisted on writing down her driver’s license number.

I’m wondering how much trouble other people may have had with Walgreens (or any other pharmacy) over acquiring Plan B. There are several other Red States that make allowances for the pharmacists’ “moral concerns” to get in the way of getting Plan B. What are our rights in getting this pill right away? Walgreens’ website didn’t indicate that they could possibly get all high-and-mighty with her when she went to make the purchase. Could they also get uppity when you buy other kinds of contraception?

One thing jumps out at me: Plan B is not actually a spermicide.

Mississippi is, I understand, one of four states which allow pharmacists to refuse to dispense “emergency contraception” of this sort on moral grounds.

On the other hand, several states, including Oklahoma, routinely jerk you around should you wish to purchase stuff that theoretically could be used in a meth lab. (And I have to show my driver’s license to buy Ambien, fercrissake.)

I’m not quite sure what I think about all this just yet, so I’m throwing it out here. I do, however, have an ongoing policy of avoiding Walgreens on general principle.

Fashionista and snarkmeister Tavi, twelve, explains how she got to where she is:

The three things that got me interested in fashion are all pretty much the anti-fashion. And I don’t mean in the cool Comme des Garçons way. Seventeen magazine, America’s Next Top Model, and the nu rave trend (aka hipster culture and neon colors) were what sort of kickstarted my curiosity in editorial and runway. I know none of these really have anything to do with fashion — Seventeen is mainly composed of a bunch of BS about “a pop of color!”, ANTM is pretty much centered around Tyra and using the word “fierce”, and big-lettered, neon, Henry Holland knock-off tees that say things about Going Green and Peace and Partying worn by people who don’t know they’re wearing a knock-off speaks for itself.

Aside: Who was it who said, “If Booth Tarkington had written Seventeen today, he’d have had to call it Twelve”? I’m thinking Meredith Willson for some reason.

Isn’t that always the response?

Two days after a mob of impatient shoppers trampled a Wal-Mart worker to death at a Valley Stream, N.Y., store, a Queens, N.Y.-based lawmaker announced plans to propose a new law aimed at controlling future Black Friday crowds, according to the Chicago Tribune. Long Island officials said they were considering similar measures. New York City Councilman James Gennaro recently held a news conference to announce his plans to craft a “Doorbuster Bill” that would require retailers to enact greater security measures during major sales. The new law was proposed in the wake of the death Friday of Jdimytai Damour, a seasonal employee who was killed after a crowd of 2,000 broke down store doors and ran over him.

Best comment so far, by Techie:

I’d also like a law against icy overpasses, while we’re at it.

Damn straight.

Doug Ross presents “Six Easy Steps to President Hillary in 2012,” as conceived by Larwyn.

What’s scary is that it doesn’t require any strain to the Suspension of Disbelief glands.

(Via American Digest.)

Trini reports spotting a new black-on-black-with-black-accents Nissan GT-R around our fair city over the weekend.

Since it’s probably not too likely that this is one of the Lost Ogle guys on a joyride, I’m going to assume that the owner is on the Thunder roster and has the seat cranked way back. (Unless it’s Earl Watson, who is barely taller than I am.)

So I open up this LCD screen and there are maybe three stuck pixels out of … let’s see here … 1680 x 1050 x 3 = 5,292,000.

As I see it, there are three alternatives:

1. Box it up and send it back and hope a replacement is better;
2. Try out one of the dozens of recommended “solutions” which may or may not work;
3. Learn to live with it.

This being me, though, I found an Option 3½: maneuver some icons into position so that they conceal the offending points of light, all of which are located near the very top of the screen. At least one of them now looks like part of the icon that sits over it.

Recent Woot contest:

Show us a label for a wine marketed by another tech or web company.

I’m not quite sure this met the strictest standards for entry, but it was my favorite:

Although you really should see the whole thing in its full glory.

It looks and works pretty much like the old search box in the sidebar, except now it goes through Scroogle’s “scraper” instead of directly to Google, and it uses SSL to encrypt the transmission. If you use it, let me know what you think of it. (On the 404 page, there is also a site-specific search powered by WordPress, but it’s not in the sidebar.)

The Dodge Challenger has returned from the dead, and most of them, yes, will have a Hemi. Chevrolet is due to ship actual Camaros any day now. And the Ford Mustang never quite went away. Which means that we have, if not necessarily bona fide muscle cars, certainly worthy pastiches of the obviously well-remembered breed, from the three manufacturers that mattered back then. (I don’t see a revised AMC Javelin on the horizon, but you can’t have everything.)

Certainly there’s some sort of market for new versions of the old: Volkswagen is officially perplexed at our fondness for the New Beetle, but keeps cranking them out, and niche retro models like Chrysler’s PT Cruiser and Chevrolet’s HHR survive still. In fact, there’s one niche retro brand: Mini, which originated in the deep, dark days of 1959.

At some point, though, you have to wonder how far it can go. I saw this over at the Car Lust Blog:

The 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air is an American icon. It may be the single most recognizable American car ever produced. Why isn’t there a 2009 Bel Air in Chevy showrooms, with 1957 styling cues and the new Malibu’s suspension and drive train? GM is foolish not to be doing something like that.

I have my doubts. For one thing, anything with the name “Bel Air” ought to have a small-block V8 engine, and while GM’s Epsilon platform, which underlies the ‘Bu, can probably accommodate a V8, GM Europe, which is in charge of Epsilon development, wouldn’t dream of such a thing.

And what styling cues would work? The General actually showed a Bel Air concept in 2002, and it was restrained, even tasteful, which the ’57 really wasn’t.

Still, “iconic” has a lot to recommend it. I remember seeing several ’56 Chevys in Turkey, of all places, circa 1974, making me wonder if GM had sold the old sheetmetal tooling to the Turks, who otherwise were spinning out recycled Britmobiles with names like “Anadol,” which over here would be a brand name for ibuprofen.

That’s me in the spotlight, losing my social skills.

(Provoked by Sarah.)

If you were wondering “When’s the next time we get to look at some more weird search strings?” the answer is “Right about now.”

hedge against car depreciation:  Don’t ever drive it. In fact, don’t even buy it.

haggis gummi bears Angry Scotsman:  Well, no wonder he was angry.

flux capacitor tattoo:  Most needle artists don’t have the 1.21 gigawatts it takes to make this design.

By hook or by crook, obtain an IQ of a minimum 75. Advice – go to the library and play some games!  Yeah, that’ll pile on the points in no time.

makeup that stays on during makeout sessions:  You’d think Cover Girl or Revlon or somebody would have addressed this need by now.

unicorn dick tattoos:  Has anyone actually seen one long enough to make a design from it?

He stated that she never once balked at the full-frontal nudity:  At which time the alarm went off and he realized that he’d dreamed the whole thing, from tryouts to trial.

does braums cook hamburgers all day:  Until three minutes before you walk in.

Pedestrian mohel orange county california:  A zoning variance for a drive-through was denied.

i think i’m correct therefore i am correct:  This mantra has kept Paul Ehrlich alive for over thirty years.

“quaaludes government controversies in the 70′s”:  Nothing controversial about ‘ludes. You just pop a couple and … zzzzzzzz …

I’d mentioned somewhere along the way that I was getting a new indoor grill from the George Foreman collection, and today seemed like as good a day as any to crank it up.

The first order of business, of course, was to detach the detachable grilling surfaces and give them a washing. This proved easier than I expected, though I discovered that it is possible to reinstall them incorrectly. Fortunately, things did not get to the point where I was shooting hot burger juice out the back of the unit instead of down into the plastic collection trough at the the front.

While this grill has a separate power switch, which the old one did not, the old one had a built-in timer, which this one lacks. Not that there was any major advantage to having the timer, since all it did was beep: it didn’t shut off the grill after sounding.

Otherwise, this is canonical Foreman grilling, with stupidly-easy cleanup. And this wasn’t any kind of day for outdoor grilling, what with nearly-constant 30-mph winds and the threat of rain, so I count this as a success.

A local store (Mark’s Shoe Room in Edmond, if you’re interested) has been featuring this shoe in its newspaper ads this week, which prompted me to look it up.

This is Violet by Corso Como, an oxford with a three-inch wooden heel and a cutout for your presumably impeccably-varnished big toe. I’ve never quite understood the idea of an open-toed oxford: it’s just enough frivolity to upset the whole Very Serious style of the shoe. I admit, this could be my own personal history talking: I remember a seventh-grade teacher who was fond of oxfords, and I can’t for the life of me imagine her wanting something with a peep-toe. (Then again, the next year, there was another teacher whose preference ran to simple flats that she could step out of at a moment’s notice. I am nothing if not the child of my influences.)

“Violet,” you should know, is not available in violet: besides this mustard color, there are chocolate and black variants. And all of them, apparently, are green:

Ever open a shoebox and find a pamphlet outlining the company’s commitment to the environment and fair labor practices? Neither did we, until we got our Corso Como platforms. Hand-assembled in Brazil (by fairly paid workers in a safe, healthy workplace), the shoes are free of artificial coatings and use leathers that have been treated only with natural vegetable dyes. Boxes are made with recyclable paper — saving around 2,000 trees per year — and a portion of every sale goes to women’s and children’s charities.

This shoe runs about $175; Mark’s is presently having an Anniversary Sale, where everything is 20 to 50 percent off. If you’re not near Edmond, Piperlime has “Violet” for $119.99.

I’ve printed my own auto-insurance cards before when I couldn’t wait for the packet to arrive in the mail: I emailed the company, and they sent me a PDF, and all was well.

It was understood, though, that I already had the policy issued and the payment arrangements in place — unlike, say, this guy:

Chris Woodruff used his computer printer to create his own insurance certificate when he was stopped by police but made a basic error with the date.

The certificate he presented to police looked perfect but for one vital detail — its expiry date was listed as the non-existent “31/02/08 at 23.59hrs”.

Yep. February only seems that long.

And in fact, it was worse than that: he’d set the start of the term to the first of February 2007. Does anyone sell auto insurance on a 13-month basis? Prosecutor David Gittins told the judge: “It was probably the worst forgery you have ever seen.”

Judge Francis Gilbert, QC, jailed him for 10 months, suspended for two years, ordered him to do 150 hours of unpaid community work and banned him from driving for six months.

After which, presumably, he’ll hire on at CBS News.

Sensibly enough, Doc Searls chose to repair the old buggy rather than buy a new one:

A few days ago I took in my old Volkswagen Passat to get the water pump replaced. Turns out lots of other stuff was worn out or broken and needed fixing too. The final bill came to around $5000, which is what I paid for the thing three years ago.

For a minute I thought about getting a new car. They’re cheaper than ever, with lots of good deals, and guarantees that would relieve me of the need to pay much for upkeep. But I decided to fix the old car instead, because it’s good enough. Spending $5k is better than spending $20k, especially if I don’t have to borrow the difference.

I can endorse this premise: I can buy a whole lot of maintenance for Gwendolyn’s original $31,000 sticker — or, for that matter, with the 70 percent of it the previous owner had to eat in depreciation.

I’m not so sure, though, that he’s spotted a major trend here:

New car purchases are impelled mostly by advertising and fantasy. Drive a lot of rental cars and you get hip to the obvious: the differences between cars, especially fairly new ones, isn’t large.

Now, what happens if an absence of new car fantasy prevails for the duration? What if the whole automobile business has jumped the shark, and the problem isn’t just Detroit’s?

If you view a car as primarily a means to get from Point A to Point B without having to ride the M.T.A., then yes, they’re all fairly interchangeable. I don’t think Searls himself fully subscribes to this notion, if only because, in my experience anyway, people with this viewpoint tend not to drive Passats, which offer a sort-of-premium driving experience at a sort-of-premium price. (As always, your mileage may vary.) I would not at all be surprised to hear, though, that others have reached this conclusion on their own, bruised by four-dollar-plus gas or five-grand repair bills, and vowing never to go down that road again.

We do, however, expect a lot more from our cars than we used to, and the level of standard equipment has grown tremendously: air conditioning is now pretty much universal, as is the stereo sound system with CD player, as is the multiplicity of air bags. There are times when I think that there aren’t any handy automotive gadgets yet to devise. And then here comes a Ford Flex with a fridge, or any number of wagons with backup cameras, and I have to admit I’m wrong again. Tyranny of the new, to be sure; but I don’t think we’re going to conquer vehicular lust in my lifetime. Not mine, anyway.

So we win two games in November, after all. After falling behind by double figures early on — it was 54-43 at the half — the Thunder put some actual hurt on the Grizzlies: they caught up halfway through the fourth, and just kept on going. Final: Oklahoma City 111, Memphis 103.

Which is not to say that the Griz weren’t playing their hearts out. Rookie of the Year contender O. J. Mayo knocked down 30 points, nine of them on treys, and picked up seven rebounds. The other youngsters starting, Rudy Gay and Marc Gasol, got 16 points each. What’s more, Memphis outrebounded Oklahoma City, 36-30, and the Griz shot a stirring 57.7 percent.

But the Thunder didn’t bring flatware to this gunfight. Scott Brooks’ eight-man rotation has become a nine-man rotation to accommodate Desmond Mason, and D-Mase was a defensive powerhouse in the second half while Kevin Durant and Jeff Green raced to the basket — or, towards the end, to the foul line. The Thunder hit 32 of 38 from the stripe, Durant getting almost half of them (14/16) by himself on the way to a 30-point game. Jeff Green came up with 22 again, including 8 of 8 free throws. The experimentation continues: Russell Westbrook started at the point but occasionally moved to the two to make room for Earl Watson, and Chris Wilcox started at center but got into foul trouble early, with Joe Smith and Jeff Green (!) swinging in and out of the middle as needed. After shooting very poorly early on, the Thunder figured out the location of the FedEx cylinders, and finished with a respectable 52.1 percentage.

A few things went wrong, but hell, it’s a win. We aren’t going to get lots of them this year, so we may as well enjoy them, especially with a three-game road trip coming up. (They’ll come home first and rest a bit before heading off for Charlotte.)

I was listening to the Thunder game on the radio last night and noticed that the Sports Animal station ID had grown by one: the last station listed was WKY, Oklahoma City.

Does this mean that Citadel is giving up on the Jox 930 format? (And did we need a fourth sports station at all?)

There exists a rumor of a new country station coming after Christmas, but do we need a fourth country station at all?

“There are some athletes who need New York,” says Arash Markazi. “They need to be in a big city and play in a big market to validate their legacy and marketability.” LeBron James is not one of them:

If James were shopping for a penthouse or looking to start a magazine, this move would be a slam dunk, but he’s trying to win basketball games.

The Knicks haven’t had a winning record since the 2000-01 season, finishing with fewer than 40 wins for seven straight seasons, a streak that will likely stretch to nine when James becomes a free agent in 2010. They’ve only won two championships in their history, with the last one coming in 1973. Their last trip to the Finals came a decade ago. This isn’t the Yankees or the Lakers, two storied franchises in big cities littered with championships. If the Knicks didn’t play in New York, they’d be the East Coast version of the Sonics (except for the whole relocation thing), a decent team that had some success in the ’70s and ’90s but fell on some hard times.

Would James sign with the Sonics, er the Thunder, if they cleared cap room for him? No, and he should take the same stance with the Knicks.

Up to this point, James has been giving mixed signals regarding his plans after his current contract expires. But I figure that Markazi is calling it right: if what LeBron wants most is a championship ring, he stands the best chance of getting one by standing pat.

And one other thing: does anybody really, truly, want to deal with the Knicks’ James Dolan on a regular basis?

I’ve been in this house for five years now, and I was sorting through some of the original paperwork yesterday, including the 2003 appraisal which was prepared for the closing.

This paragraph, on “Market conditions in neighborhood,” was interesting:

The amount of new construction in the metro area is a good indicator of economic improvement and the potential for future property value increases now exists due to the dwindling supply of homes on the market. This economic improvement is anticipated to continue for the near future providing interest rates remain stable with no dramatic increase. Marketing time in the subject’s immediate area is within the 90-120 day range and is anticipated to remain in this range for the near future for actively marketed, reasonably priced homes in average or better condition. Predominant financing appears to be FHA, VA and conventional type loans with interest rates ranging from 6% to 8%. Seller’s concessions are seldom necessary to stimulate sales and excessive seller contributions (if any) are removed from sales.

That last statement stung, since I did indeed ask for a concession, and was rebuffed. The rest of it, though, seems to be pure boilerplate.

And I can’t complain so much: while the seller got every cent she asked for, the sales price was a couple of grand short of the selling price.

The taxman reports that the value of this place has risen a modest 25.5 percent in those five years. Again, I can’t complain: I’m not stuck on the roller-coaster ride that has affected some markets, and I have a fixed-rate note (6.25%) and don’t have to pay mortgage insurance.