Today is June 29th, and if you’ve been living under a rock for the last few days, today’s the day that Apple’s iPhone is unleashed upon the general public.  It also happens to be the day that Disney/Pixar’s newest movie, “Ratatouille”, opens.  Just to make sure that everyone understands the connection, Steve Jobs is the CEO of Apple, Inc., and he was the CEO of Pixar before Disney bought them not too long ago.  Mr. Jobs is currently the largest shareholder of Disney stock.

This leads me to wonder…which of Mr. Jobs “babies” will have a bigger opening weekend in terms of dollars?

According to Box Office Mojo, the biggest opening weekend of all time is “Spider-Man 3” at just over $151 million.  The biggest opening weekend for an animated movie is “Shrek the Third” at around $121.6 million.  The biggest opening weekend for a Pixar animated movie is “The Incredibles” at $70.5 million.

Let’s assume that “Ratatouille” will beat “Spider-Man 3” as the largest opening weekend for a movie and will do so at $155 million (I don’t think it will, but we’re just going to use that as a round number).  For the iPhone to beat $155 million, Apple/AT&T needs to sell 310,000 of the 4GB ($500) model, or 258,334 of the 8GB ($600) model.  Since I suspect that the sales ratio of iPhone models will be 60% 8GB and 40% 4GB, Apple/AT&T needs to sell 155,000 of the 8GB model and 116,000 of the 4GB model, with a grand total of 271,000 combined.

Based on the line at the Apple Store on 5th Avenue, which I can now see from my office on Madison Avenue, I’d say that the iPhone will beat “Ratatouille” in the opening dollars game.

Update: Posted a wrap-up of the amount of money each made based on analysts reports.

Since I’ve been a little sick recently and spent a lot of time around the apartment, I decided to straighten up a little bit and throw out some stuff that I didn’t need cluttering up my spacious Manhattan apartment.  Several books that didn’t make the cut are going to be dropped off on the windowsill in the lobby in case someone else would enjoy reading short stories and poems that I read in high school, The Soul of a Butterfly by Muhammed Ali, or The Hunt for Red October by Tom Clancy.

It was during this clean-up session that I noticed something that disturbed me.  Next to my nightstand, on the floor, was a pile of about eight to ten books.  This pile was of books that were on the short list to read, or worse, were already started and set aside for something else.  Once I saw this pile, I realized that something drastic needed to be done.

My problem when it comes to reading books is that I don’t have a lot of time to do so.  Most people I know read during their commute.  Since I walk to and from work, that’s not really an option for me.  In general, the only time I read is after I get into bed, right before I go to sleep.  Since I generally go to bed when I’m dead tired and can’t stay awake anymore, I only get about two minutes of read time before nodding off.  If I get two pages read before giving up, it’s a good reading session.

Yesterday, I decided to change that.  I’m going to try a new attitude as it applies to going to bed and reading.  First of all, I’m going to attempt to get at least 15 minutes, but more preferably 30 minute, of reading each night that it’s possible (i.e. if the room is spinning due to alcohol, then reading is not only not possible, it could be dangerous).  This also means that I will need to head in to bed before I’m dead tired and nodding off in the living room.

Secondly, I will not start a new book until I have finished the current book.  There will be exceptions to this rule, such as when a book needs to be read by a certain time, for example, for work, or when a particularly tough book hits a major section break.

I started my new plan last night, and I enjoyed over 20 pages of Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut before closing my eyes and dreaming of whatever it is that I dream about.

Truth be told, it was really a rib eye sliced like London Broil, but that really doesn’t matter. You see, the supermarket didn’t have flank stake, and even if it did, I didn’t really have enough time to marinate it tonight, so I went with rib eye instead.

I also decided to try the balsamic vinegar and shallot sauce that Chef Jane taught us about in class. It came out great, even though the first reduction basically spattered all over the place when the vinegar hit the pan.

I had a little bit of trouble timing everything out, as usual, but I was able to shut things down and turn them back on as the steak got close to finishing.  Was it perfect? No. Was it acceptable? More than definitely. Was it good? It was delicious!

Update: As I was washing the dishes, I realized something…I cooked everything based on “doneness” rather than just on time. Even though the George Foreman people said to cook the steak six minutes, I poked it after six and “felt” that it needed a little more. When it felt right, I did cut it just to make sure, but I was pretty sure it was right. That’s a huge improvement for me. In addition, the sauce and the broccoli were done without measuring and timers, and just cooked based on visual and a taste test to make sure it was good.

Forget the fact that they’re changing my zip code.  Ignore the fact that they keep changing the stamp costs while I still have a boatload of the $0.39 stamps.  Now they’re invading my private life.

I got home tonight and picked up the mail.  As is my normal practice, I had my briefcase in my hand and put the mail in the same hand without looking at it.  I do the briefcase and the mail in one hand, the left, because it allows me to use the keys in my right hand to open the vestibule door and, once I get to my apartment, my apartment door.  It’s worked very well for me for years.  Never had a problem until today.

When I hit the third floor landing, I bumped into the cute girl that seems to live on that floor.  We exchange pleasantries, and I noticed her eyes darted downward, toward my left hand.  I tried to make a little bit of small talk, and I noticed that her eyes kept darting between me and my left hand.

After saying our goodbyes, I finished the climb to my apartment.  As I was opening the door, I noticed what she might have kept glancing at in my left hand.  There, at the top of the bills and a promotion for Best Buy, was a postcard from Playboy.  It didn’t just say “PLAYBOY” on it.  No, this postcard had a naked woman on it, covered barely in appropriate places, and large letters that proclaimed that I, JOSHUA MADISON, have been “selected to enjoy PLAYBOY for just $1 an issue”.  In addition, I could also get a free DVD.

The only positive thing that can come out of a cute girl in my building seeing that postcard is that it lets her know that I don’t already subscribe to Playboy.

Playboy postcard (sorta NSFW)

This was the last class and the chef threw us for a little bit of a loop…when it came time to cook, she told us that we wouldn’t be allowed to look at our recipes…she would post a list of ingredients and we would have to mix them based on experience and taste.  I’ll go into why that is almost the worst thing Chef could have done to me in another post, but for now, I’ll just say that I went into this class with an open, but cautious, mind.

The lecture portion included how to make a marinade and why certain ingredients are necessary in one depending on what type of food is being prepared (i.e. chicken, lamb, pork, beef, etc.), how to make mayo and when you should versus using store bought, how to properly carve London Broil, and how a restaurant broiler is different than the average home kitchen broiler.

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I’m far from the best writer out there, and my excuse for not learning a second language is that I’m still trying to learn my first.  However, when I see an article on a major news outlet (ABC News) written by someone who is supposed to be at the upper echelon of news reporters (Barbara Walters), I expect them to understand the different between “proscribe” and “prescribe”.

In her article describing a jail house interview with Paris Hilton, Ms. Walters writes:

She wears the proscribed prison garb: an orange or brown jumpsuit.

If that sentence is correct, then Ms. Hilton is getting preferential treatment since she is wearing garb specifically forbidden by the prison, which is in contradiction to Ms. Walters implication in the rest of the article that Ms. Hilton is not receiving any preferential treatment.

In our version of the English language, “proscribe” is a verb which basically means, “to denounce or condemn.”, while “prescribe” is a verb which means, “to set down as a rule or guide; to order the use of.”  In this case, Ms. Walters got confused.

Many businesses have dress guidelines.  In many cases, they specify that you must wear appropriate attire, and proscribe, for example, that you can’t wear shorts, t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers.  However, there are many jobs out there where you must wear a provided uniform.  In that case, they prescribe that you must wear a UPS approved uniform, for example.  Which verb you use depends on which subset is smaller and easier to define.

Prisons almost always have a prescribed dress code for inmates, usually something along the line of a bright orange jumpsuit, to make it easier for law enforcement officials to spot if someone makes a break for it.  I’m guessing that the language police will put out an A.P.B. on Ms. Walters shortly.

Update: The error has been fixed in an updated version of the article.

Today was egg day!  Everything we learned revolved around eggs in some way.

The lecture portion started off by going over some of the technical ways to cook the items we were going to be cooking later in the class, such as the temperature the water should be to properly poach eggs, how to properly peel hard-cooked eggs, and how to make clarified butter.

Chef then demonstrated how to peel tomatoes, how to add eggs to water to poach them, how to scramble eggs (in a sauce pan, of all things), how to make omelets (both American and French style), and how to separate eggs whites and yokes.

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