Life as The Janitor class

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Like many topics that swirl around in my head that I think about writing a post about, there are times in which I feel like I have to be in the right mood and/or headspace to optimally write about a particular one.

Considering #1 peed all over her bed because we’re still in the process of night potty training her, and #2 decided to obliterate her night-time diaper, probably because I’ve let the kids eat some fairly rich foods over the holiday weekend, which meant I had to clean everything up in the tiny window of time in which is usually spent ushering the girls downstairs for breakfast, I think I’m in the right frame of mind to write about this one finally.

A long time ago, my friends and I played this one board game; I think it was Nemesis Lockdown, because it’s the only board game that I can Google that sounds like what I’m trying to recollect.  Among the playable classes was The Janitor, and that stands out because I’d never heard of a game that took such realism into consideration to where they’d force a player(s) to take on the role of an actual custodian.

And it wasn’t a case of where it was a class in name, and that The Janitor was more a metaphor in that they CLEANED UP THE OPPOSITION or anything remotely more audibly interesting than what actual janitors do.  No, The Janitor class was an actual janitor, where their primary action is to, eliminate waste, that other players and the monster classes leave behind in their wake.  Like, the typical turn for The Janitor was, movement phase towards a tile where waste was, and action phase, the act of cleaning up said waste.  No cool special talent, no hidden bonus to where they could one-shot a baddie, their sole existence in the game was to shuffle around the board, cleaning up after everyone else.

Here’s the twist to the game – if The Janitor were ever to be eliminated, the clock in which the game comes to an end would accelerate to an insurmountable speed.  The game was set up to where there was no way for The Janitor to ever stay on top of the amount of waste that other players and enemies generate, and required tactical management and prioritization of waste disposal.  Smart, cerebral players learn and know how to manage waste disposal to where it doesn’t hinder the survival cause too much.

But if The Janitor were killed, there is no more player who can eliminate any waste, and after every player phase, more and more waste accumulates in the base, and eventually the map becomes immovable.  Either players trap themselves in a prison of waste, or they’re forced to evacuate the base to where monsters would more than likely overwhelm and kill them, but either way, the game ends much faster after the elimination of The Janitor than if they live.

That’s basically what swirls through my head on a daily basis when I spend an absurdly inordinate amount of time of my life cleaning up after other people.  I try not to think about it too much, but the reality is that so many people in my life are basically slobs.  Family, friends, my own household, it’s like everyone I know has way more shit than they know what to do with, and as a result, it’s just piles of said shit all over the place.  And it’s like I’m not only a player who has my own set of tasks and duties to do, but I’m also The Janitor on top of it all, and having to do all of the tasks and duties of The Janitor, except I still only have the number of movement and action moves of one player.

It’s often overwhelming and always frustrating, and I try on a daily basis to keep my head above water over the endlessly growing piles of waste that accumulate and clog up my board in an endless cycle.  More often than not, I don’t get to do any of the actions of my primary class, because I’m using all of my actions being The Janitor, cleaning up the endless shit that keeps materializing around me, while having to be tactical and cerebral on what has to go versus what I can push off onto a later player phase.

And if I were to ever be killed or eliminate from the game?  There’s absolutely no doubt that the same thing would happen to my home as what would happen in the game when The Janitor is removed from play.  Shit would start to accumulate and accumulate, and with nobody to give a shit about actually cleaning up and eliminating some of it on a regular basis, the home would eventually become overwhelmed, and I don’t even want to think about what would happen if that were the case.

In the past, I used to be critical of Marie Kondo and her whole spiel of get the fuck rid of everything.  I criticized her Netflix show but watched more episodes than I care to admit, and then laughed when she had kids and admitted to being just like all of us other parents who get overwhelmed and start accumulating more shit than she knew what to do with.

But as my life has progressed through the 2020’s, the more I wish my life were closer to being able to pulling a KonMari than not.  I’d probably need an entire dumpster to purge my home of all the shit that I know we don’t need, and pretty much only then, would The Janitor be able to take a backseat to whatever class I’m really meant to be, I don’t know fucking know anymore, because I’ve been The Janitor for so long now that I guess I don’t really have another player class anymore.

lol, I love to see the Dodgers lose

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

In case you missed it because I did too: the Disney Anaheim Angels of Southern Orange County Los Angeles sweep the Los Angeles Dodgers over the weekend

Unsurprising, this is what happens when a team gets good, succeeds, spends boatloads of money, signs all the notable free agents and becomes the internal darlings of the league they’re in – they mostly become reviled by fanbases that are not supporters of them in the first place.

I mean, I wasn’t really ever a Dodgers fan at any point of my life with the closest thing to support being when Chan Ho Park was there, but for the most part, I just never really cared about them.  They were a fringe team that played in a weak division and never seemed like they were any threat to actually succeed, especially when the Phillies bounced them every time they ran into each other in the playoffs.

But then they eventually got their shit together, started making the playoffs every single year, basically bounced the Braves from them every time they encountered each other except for 2021, and had been enjoying a renaissance of sorts.  I started to dislike them.

Then, they poached Freddie Freeman from the Braves, which wasn’t entirely their fault as much as the Braves being the Braves, meaning the cheapskate fucks that absolutely will not spend money on a free agent that isn’t at their peak, but for all intents and purposes, the Dodgers took the heart out of Atlanta, and I really disliked them.

And then their organization deployed a pelican strike on the league by exploiting deferred money deals to avoid luxury tax penalties while at the same time securing massive money deals on just about every notable free agent on the market, most notably getting Shohei Ohtani for $700 million dollars, en route to committing over a billion dollars on free agents.

By this point, if baseball fans that weren’t Dodger fans already didn’t dislike the Dodgers, this is where they really began to.

It’s not that they’re cheating or doing anything at all that’s not legal, it’s just that they’re really driving home the reality of the importance of spending money, and there’s a lot of misguided frustration and hatred for their own teams, being directed at the Dodgers, but the bottom line is that the Dodgers have basically become the most hated team in the league, even more than the Yankees depending on whom you ask.

So that’s why it’s so satisfying to see when the Dodgers perform like anything other than the team that outspent the rest of the league to construct an uber-roster, and not just get swept at home, but get swept at home to their in-city archnemeses, in the Angels.  And not just the Angels, but the lowly Angels who have 2/3 the payroll of the Dodgers, as well as have a living leech on the squad in Anthony Rendon who is getting paid $38M to not play at all. 

And to top it off, the Angels were without superstar Mike Trout, who is also on the disabled list, and they still took the Dodgers behind the toolshed to shellack them, in their own house no less.

I didn’t catch a single game, much less even know about it after the fact, but I just fucking love it all the same, and it does bring me great joy to see the Dodgers fuck up in such a monumental manner.  It’s just so hilarious because the TL;DR of the whole thing is that the Angels suck and the Dodgers don’t, but the Angels still swept them. 

It’s as big of an upset as the Pistons beating the Lakers in 2003, whenever Tom Brady had a brainfart and lost to the Dolphins, or when the Honda Civic beat the Ferrari in a drag race in that one video clip that was ever only available on fucking RealPlayer.

When the season is over, the Dodgers will still most likely be in World Series contention, while the Angels probably won’t even be close to even the play-in series, but for one weekend in May, the Dodger-hating contingent of baseball fans can all collectively point and laugh at the Dodgers and all their shitty soft-ass fairweather fans.

Nobody feels bad for the Dodgers when they don’t succeed, and it is always joyous to see them lose, but getting swept at home by the rival Angels, is probably going to be the lowest point for the squad this season.  And I love to see it.

Shitty game alert for parents: Donut Dash by Goliath Games

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

My kid begged and whined for us to get this game.  And seeing as how it was on deep discount at the death row of JoAnn’s, we acquiesced, because nowadays, anything that can occupy and entertain my children for more than two seconds is considered a win, and which is why my house feels like a future episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive, is because it’s so full of shit like this.

Mythical wife has this funny habit, where she’ll buy things for the kids, but then just kind of hand them off or leave them for me or the au pair to give to the kids, or in some cases, just kind of give the things to the kids and let them tear into the boxes and packages because they love to do that kind of shit.  But in most cases, that’s not always the best idea, because games aren’t made to be immediately played right out of the box, now more than ever, and this fucking game, Donut Dash, is among the worst I’ve ever experienced.

The above image I made pretty much gets right to the point on why this game blows, because there are no batteries included, and worse off, there are a ton of stickers in the box that need to be affixed to very specific things, like the little car, as well as decorating each and every single one of the 22 donuts included in the game.  And my kids love fucking stickers, and it took less than 10 seconds for them to start peeling them up and affixing them to absolutely anything but their intended objects, and I spent an inordinate amount of time, obviously annoyed, trying to carefully peel and correct sticker placement onto the bullshit donuts that couldn’t possibly have been bothered to have that kind of shit printed on, on perhaps cardboard instead of shitty plastic.

And when I read how the game actually played, I could already see in my head upon reading that the car shot the discs out in random directions, that this game wouldn’t last five minutes before we lost one or more of these stupid donuts.

That is, if the dumb car didn’t jam immediately, because of the donuts that my kids put stickers on themselves poorly stuck to the inside of the well, clogging immediately, once again requiring parental intervention to fix it.

I actually didn’t stick around for the actual play of the game, but when I came back home later in the afternoon, I found at least three donuts randomly on the ground, and I imagine that there’s probably others underneath the refrigerator, under the area rugs, and undoubtedly underneath the couch.  And the kids were completely uninterested in it any further, and I opted to just box it back up, and put it away, because as far as I’m concerned, Donut Dash is a colossal piece of shit and a waste of money, even if it was down to just $8.

The point is, this is an awful fucking game, not just for the kids who will lose interest in a fifth of the time it takes to properly set it up, but the parents who not only will pay for it, but are also the ones who will be responsible for said proper set up, lest the kids like my own fuck it all up from the on set, which I would highly recommend not allowing to be the case, if one was still so inclined to want to give this turd a try.

Dad Brog (#150): Next stop, kindergarten

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I blinked a few times, and now my eldest daughter has graduated pre-K, and is en route to starting kindergarten the next school year.  I still have a hard time digesting that, considering that the last five years have soared by, where my kids were born the generation of COVID babies, and the world has gone through a whole lot of hoopla to get to where we are today.

Like, it didn’t feel that surreal when #1 began 2K and went onto 3K while #2 started a year later, but more recently, it dawned on me when I went to the last Friday sing-along of the year, that this was also the final Friday sing-along for #1 outright.  Very soon, the school year was going to come to a close, and all the classmates she’s mostly had over the last three years, almost all of them are going their separate ways, since being a private pre-K, kids are from all over the place, and despite the fact that this school is zoned for a specific elementary school, almost none of them will actually be going there.

Obviously, #1 doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that she’s not going to be seeing a lot of her classmates again with any regularity very soon, and instead it’s me the parent that feels sentimental for her that she’s not going to be seeing her friends, some of whom she’s grown quite close with over the years, and we as the parents can all tell each other that this doesn’t have to be the end, but much like our own adult relationships, it basically is.

Such is the relentless passage of time and the journey of life, and my first kid has completed one of the first stages of life, being preschool.  She’s a whip-sharp, intelligent and observant kid, that has a beautiful imagination, loves to draw and paint, and I’m often floored at the academic development she’s shown over the last three years of preschool, and it’s going to be all sorts of emo-dad emotions in the future to see what she does next, starting elementary school.

As most parents aside from myself probably opine at similar circumstances, I just can’t believe that time has flown so fast, and I’ve already got a kindergartener on deck.  Aside from the financial alleviation of having one less kid in a private pre-K, it’s going to be exciting to see what lies ahead in the future as #1 takes the step into the next stage of life, entering contemporary education.

Cute, but not accurate

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

OutKick: Tampa Bay Rays have their first rain delay in the franchise’s history, commemorative ponchos handed out to all 17 of their fans in attendance

I haven’t written much about baseball this season, but then again, I don’t really feel like I’ve written that much over the last few weeks but I digress.  But because a hurricane obliterated Tropicana Field, the dump of a venue that housed the Tampa Bay Rays, the team had been forced to play the entirety of their home games in the 2025 season, at of all places, the Yankees’ Spring Training facilities, Steinbrenner Field.

That being said, seeing as how the Trop was an indoor ballpark, and Steinbrenner Field is very much outdoor, it’s actually kind of amazing that it’s taken this long for the weather to come into play in Florida of all places, and the Rays to deal with a rain delay.  But for all intents and purposes, the franchise has declared it as the first rain delay in Rays history, and to commemorate the tongue-in-cheek occasion, all 17 fans in attendance were given commemorative ponchos, which is actually kind of cool and definitely clutch because rain at pretty much any other ballpark in the country is an instant cash-grab for the venues to be able to hawk overpriced trashbags and umbrellas on the bad luck of those not prepared for potential rain.

However, I’m going to piss on this little parade and go all well actually, because not only was this not the first time a Rays game has been delayed on account of the rain, I can actually say that I was there when it had happened.

It was in 2009, when I was still freelancing, and was having kind of a chill summer vacation on account of being in between assignments and coasting off of a giant payday I made from a project I had completed earlier in the year.  I had money, I had time, I had my Delta flight benefits, and I didn’t want to let the entire summer go by without capitalizing on my advantages at being able to tackle some baseball parks on my quest to visit all 30.

I got to Tampa Bay and basically went straight to the Trop since I didn’t have any time to tourist around like I normally like to do on my baseball trips.  I lucked into a paper World Series of a pitching matchup between Roy Halladay, then with the Blue Jays, and David Price, when he was still the man in St. Pete’s.  Long story short, the game went about six innings of a matchup as good as it was on paper, but unbeknownst to me, the skies had opened up and it was absolutely pouring outside the ceiling of the dome above me.

And then suddenly, there was an announcement over the PA system, and security started going onto the field, and players started coming off of it.  Apparently, on account of the weather, there was a power outage somewhere in the Trop, and despite the fact that nobody could tell where it was, the ballpark felt it prudent to stop the game until the technical difficulties could be resolved.

Despite the fact that the baseball game was being played indoors, the rain had affected something mechanically in the venue, and the venue chose to halt the game in order to fix it.  And there we have it, a rain delay – at an indoor park.

I have no idea if this was the first time that such had happened, but I’m going to assume probably not.  But the point remains is that just because rain isn’t pouring all over the players and fans doesn’t mean that a rain delay couldn’t not happen.  Perhaps if the Rays commemorated something not named the first-ever rain delay, it would be more accurate, but as cheeky as this little “celebration” was, it was very much not accurate.

I know this for fact, because I was there when it happened before, almost 15 years ago.  Shit, Jerome.

The peace of mind of the long way

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I hate commuting.  I often lament that among the great things that happened during the pandemic was the dramatic reduction of traffic across the board, and when I was one of the poor unfortunate souls who had to begin returning to the office, commuting wasn’t so bad because there were still a whole lot of lucky schmucks who were still allowed to work remotely and didn’t add to the cars on the road.

Nowadays, traffic is right back to the same shitshow things were before the pandemic, and unlike the days when I wasn’t married and didn’t have kids, I can’t be an early bird, and willingly head out to the office at a nice early time in order to have a more peaceful commute.  No, I have to leave at a strict time, determined by how long it should take me to get to the office, and basically into the teeth of the morning rush hour.

Honestly, I actually have it kind of good, in terms of mileage.  My commute is basically 7-8 miles each way, no highway driving, but it still takes the better part of 30 minutes to traverse it, because of fucking traffic.

Worst of all is the final mile of my drive, where there are some mornings where that last mile takes as much time as all the other distance before it, just because of the sheer overpopulated massive of human existence that clogs up the roads, right in front of my god damn building.  Frankly, this daily malady of the final mile is largely in part why I’m so salty about commuting, and why the thought of driving into the office four days a week is always met with a sneer.

My office park is made up of several buildings and has about four entry points.  However, it’s also close enough to the interstates to where the main roads just outside of the complex are often completely clogged by hordes of assholes trying to subvert the highway, preventing people who are just trying to get into the complex from being able to get in, not without waiting through numerous lights and taking some creative detouring just to get to work.

But recently, I accidentally came across an alternate route, that perhaps it’s still too early to tell, but in the few times that I’ve used it, has been a refreshing breath of fresh air, and has alleviated a tremendous amount of commuting anxiety from my daily list of grievances.

One of the access points has a two lane left turn into the grounds, but everyone camps the right lane, because there’s a fairly immediate right turn upon turning in.  Anyone who is in the left lane is obviously a supervillain akin to Thanos who will definitively try to force their way into the right and cut in front of others like the galaxy’s biggest dick.

The other day, I got in the left lane, solely because I wanted to just make the light, and the time math dictated that it would be more efficient to make my left, camp in a parking lot for a minute while the mass of humanity that wanted to make their immediate right turns made their right turns, and then leisurely hop in the back of the line.  But I also had the wherewithal to give a quick glance to Google Maps, and I saw that even if I didn’t make the immediate right everyone was preparing to bully me out from making, the road would ultimately loop and eventually connect to a road that I needed to get on anyway, so I thought, hm, let’s just see where this takes us.

It’s slightly longer, maybe adds a minute or three to my overall drive, but so far, has shown to be sparsely used, no speed bumps to further stress out my 13-year old whip, and by virtue of taking this road instead of the routes that 95% of other commuters that work in my office park take, seems to get me out of the traffic light rhythm from all the other clusterfucks of entry points, so I’ve been able to leisurely cruise into the parking garage without any slow fucks trolling in front of me or any tryhard assholes tailgating behind me.

But most importantly, it has completely removed the mentally stressful need to fight and battle to get into the office complex, which is a tremendous weight lifted off my mind.  I’m often time the guy who will take back roads and alternate routes that might be longer, but if it keeps me moving and is less stressful, they’re worth it.  I’m just very pleased to have found an alternate route on my tedious commute to the office, and I’m hoping it continues to be the refreshing change of pace that will help calm down the stress of commuting for years to come.

The joy-not of driving the third car

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

In another episode of overlooked dad things, I’ve mentioned before how in my household, I have the permanent short straw, well in most cases, but in the context of this post, when it comes to the cars we drive.

Technically, I have two cars in my name that I am paying for, and then we have mythical wife’s old car that is free and clear, but is also 13 years old, and comes with all of the anxious hangups that go along with driving around in a 13-year-old vehicle.

This post doesn’t exist if I actually got to daily drive one of the two cars I pay for, which means my daily commuter car is the third car in our household, which on paper really isn’t bad, as it is small and compact, making it ideal for my parking garage that has the smallest fucking parking spaces in existence and gets very good gas mileage, to which my daily commute of maybe 12-13 miles round trip means I’m filling up maybe once a month.

However, like I said, it’s a 13-year-old car.  With the overwhelming majority of those years being not mine, which means there’s a lifetime of history and little things that I’m unaware of, service and maintenance that I don’t know how well has been maintained other than the time in which I began to oversee it.

Whereas it was a sturdy, peppy car when mythical wife was mythical girlfriend and we first got together, the car is now 13 years old, and definitely feels its age.  Lots of the mechanisms feel tired, the transmission feels slippery and I permanently drive it in manual shift mode to get around all the wonky gear spacing and super revs when sneezing on the gas pedal. 

I don’t have the power to overtake anyone that isn’t standing still and have to concede my position way more often than I sometimes care to, and I spend admittedly more time than I probably should, lamenting on the day in which I don’t have to be the one in the third car and might actually get to permanently drive my own car that I don’t have share and adjust every time I get into it.

If it’s idled too long, something overheats or otherwise happens where the revs take on a higher pitch.  The tires in the rear are balding and should really be replaced, and the car’s at its time of life in which it’s always a question on whether or not these are the last new tires for them or not.  And of course, there’s all sorts of rattles and creaks that even Batman couldn’t identify.

But the absolute worst part of the third car is the horrendous lines of sight for probably anyone over 5’2, because mythical wife had had the car before I drove it regularly and she has no idea what I’m talking about.

The photograph above is what I see when I’m at a stop light – which is not the stop light at all.  I have to crane my neck at an uncomfortable angle in order to see the stop light, which really fucking sucks when a light stays red forever, necessitating me to keep my head in an awkward position to ensure that I see it turn green and begin driving accordingly.

At 5’9, I am not as tall as I wish I were, but I wouldn’t classify myself as someone who could be referred to as tall.  And yet, even when the seat is as far back as I can and adjusted to be as low as it gets, I’m still in a position to where if I ‘m not the third or further back car in a line of cars, I probably can’t see a traffic light in front of me without craning my neck.  Which sucks doubly because I always want to be the first car in a line so that I can drive with nobody in front of me because the existence of other commuters is what ruins the otherwise enjoyable act of driving cars, so I’m often in a position to where I concede sitting behind others, or put myself to where I have to crane my neck in order to monitor the light.

It’s every time I have to sit at a light craning my neck that this post has materialized in my head.  It doesn’t happen all the time, and some commutes I’m lucky to where it doesn’t happen at all, but then there are some days and some intersections where I just don’t get so lucky, and I have to sit there looking and feeling absurd as I how I often feel about the whole notion that I’m the one who always seem to have to make all the sacrifices in life for the sake my family.