My favorite post from the Internets today. A Japanese man takes a picture daily of a local beverage vending machine. He notes changes and draws diagrams, announcing when colas change positions in the machine; when cans are switched to new brands or new branding; or when the cold drinks switch to hot beverages.

According to CScout Japan, the name of the blog translates to I take a picture of the vending machine every day (or so). I’m very sorry.

I reviewed some comments on message boards regarding this blog. A few are claiming he doesn’t have a life.

This man shouldn’t be sorry. It shows dedication and attention to detail. What difference is this hobby to the crossword puzzle fanatic who obsessively covets the Life & Arts section of the daily paper (you know these people exist. I am one of them). What difference is this than the Fantasy Football Freak, scouring stats daily, maybe hourly, as if any move he makes in this game he’s playing makes a difference in the grand scheme of things.

At least the time the vending blogger spends on this can help others in some strange way. Thanks to this guy, now we know the hot beverages will arrive in mid-October. That’s news you can use.

Besides, I love blogs that have a sole purpose, not the airy, breezy go anywhere the writer wants (like mine, for instance). Another favorite Lunch Studio (thanks to Ray for alerting me to this gem). Two New York architects blog daily about what they eat for lunch (where do you think I got the idea of writing about dinner?).

(Hat tip to Gizmodo)

Don’t you hate it when work gets in the way of the fun stuff? Like blogging, for instance. That’s how today was, otherwise I would have posted earlier.

A favorite game of mine is to ask the husband, “What’s your dream car?” and variations of this question. What’s your dream car for around town? What car do you buy when we win the lottery? (Shocked, shocked that we didn’t win the $380 Mega Millions lotto last week). This past weekend I posed a new variation of the question. I tested it on some friends first and received good feedback. Here it is:

What’s your dream car from any time period, disregarding mechanical issues, availability, and the usual price point that normally affects our purchasing decisions. Don’t worry about gas mileage or wear and tear, etc. The only caveat is you have to drive it everywhere; it’s not sitting in your garage waiting for a Sunday stroll or a cruise on Chuckanut Drive.

Eva from the vanpool suggested an older European vehicle, like an old Citroën or Karmann Ghia. Cathy also from the vanpool followed a similar path and mentioned she liked the old Mercedes two-seater convertibles (according to the husband, she probably meant the 350sl, like what sexy Richard Gere drove in “American Gigolo“).

This weekend I posed the same question to the husband. Without hesitation he said the Jaguar XKE (E type). See the red one on the left.

Eva asked what I’d want. I wasn’t sure at first. At long last I think the BMW 2002tii would be pretty sweet.

I find it funny we all chose vehicles from another time. What does that say about today’s cars? I won’t get into the husband’s complaint that the latest model of the Jetta looks just like a Toyota Corrolla or myriad other Japanese sedans.

The cars that we’ve chosen all have character. Spunk. I love spunk.

BTW, generally when I pose to myself the dream car question (for newer cars), I tend to prefer the Saab. I love Saabs, despite their mechanical nightmares. The husband finally asked, “Why the Saab?” and I had to admit that the most recent versions… actually I don’t like them all. Like so many carmakers, the Saab has become as vanilla as everything else on the market. I’m not talking performance or aerodynamic-ness or whatever (if you can’t tell, I don’t know much about cars). I’m talking looks. And I do love the look of the old Saabs … the ones that the cool kids used to drive in high school. And, therein lies the answer to “Why the Saab?”

Saabs, much like Volvos (though old Volvos are ugly) remind me of the New England preppy that I used to wish I was. The snotty upper-class Connecticut citizen that I wanted to be. Why would anyone want to be that? Live in a wealthy suburb your entire childhood, but without the extraordinary wealth; attend a New England prep school through loans and scholarships; wish what I wished for and the answer is pretty obvious.

I like to think I’ve grown out of that, thank goodness. All except for the coveted Saab.

Update – I had some images found on the amazing Inters-Web of the cars described here, but half of them broke over night. I’ll have to find some more that later on, when I’m not doing my real job, that is.