Regular reader and accidental acquaintance, Kelly Garland and I shared an exchange today on Facebook about the weather. Not so much about the weather so much as the 24 hour news cycle and the tendency of the news to do everything in its power to assure you that death is imminent, it will be painful, and you can only be saved if you watch their news program at five, five-thirty and six-because even though the news cares deeply about you and saving you from the thing that will surely kill you, it will not give you the whole story at one time.
My local news says it is "on my side", though you wouldn't know it by the way they mete out information like a reluctant pimp being shaken down a la a seventies cop show. By which I mean in little bits, only after you've paid dearly for it.
After getting the tease at five, you get the tease and the footage at five-thirty and the promise of an interview with someone close to the investigation six. So you wait and watch at six and there is some sketchy person with their faze fuzzed out saying they were quietly smoking their bong when the event unfolded and they are "shocked" and "can't believe it."
Give me a break. At five you tell me there is a polygamous serial murdering arsonist who will gain entry into my home posing as a gas company official at which time he will rape my pet force me to marry him and then will burn down my house. You tell me only you know the information pivotal to my safety and you are going to wait until six to tell me?? How is this being on my side? What if he is on my street right now? Maybe he is at my door! I am powerless against him! You haven't given me the tools I need! It's only five-forty-five!
And the weather! Every day, weather is out to get me. It's either too hot, too cold, too sunny, too much rain, el nino, la nina, hurricane, killer water spout, malevolent jet stream, pernicious sand storm or the greatest snow storm in a thousand years and it's all happening, right now! The forecast is replete with graphics and dramatic music and a very serious sounding man with an impressive bass voice telling me to hang the on, Sloopy the weather is coming. Now! If they could find a way to put in Bam! and Zow! and Wang! graphics on the screen and not make it too much like an old Batman show, they would.
Why does everything need to be so damn dramatic? Especially since if you were telling the truth you would at the very least include a disclaimer explaining that statistically, you couldn't predict sunset at noon.
Right now, the worst winter storm since ninetee-diggity-three is barreling down on us here in the midwest. That's right, cities like Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, Minneapolis and Pittsburgh are expecting snow. In February. No shit? This is unprecedented! Run to the store and buy three weeks worth of food, it's gonna snow a lot! Seriously, we mean it this time! It's not like the snow contains tiny daggers, or is radioactive or heat seeking and pissed off that you kissed its sister. It's snow. It's winter. Get over it. If on February 1st you don't own a shovel and boots and a coat, you are in trouble, however I submit that if you are in this predicament, you probably don't own a t.v., either.
And why do people go crazy at the store? Do you expect every plow in your city to break or be swept away by some unforeseen force and thereby will starve to death in your own home? Don't you have neighbors? Do they like you? If it's that bad, we are all truly screwed. Buying every loaf of bread on the shelf isn't gonna put you in any better stead than the rest of us. Especially because I bought all the tuna! Even the stuff that says it's mostly dolphin and is packed in whale oil! Now who's laughing? I guess we're gonna have to work together here, partner.
So, as Kelly and I mused earlier, for those of us in the path of this great freight train of the angry killer storm that will surely end the world, throw another log on the fire, uncork a bottle of wine, don the snuggie crack open a book and relax. It's a snow storm. That is not news.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday Morning Miscellany
Apologies to Danny Glover
"I'm too old for this stuff [sic]!" was the line Danny Glover made famous in the Lethal Weapon movies as Sergeant Murtaugh a guy who was seemingly always only days away from retirement. It's a line that pops through a chaperone's mind a time or two on an overnight event with a bunch of kids. I know it went through mine.
We got together with a couple youth groups from some local African American congregations in an attempt to explain to our children that there are other people than white people and Asians adopted by white people. I joke, our kids go to diverse schools and are all very inclusive people, but our youth group is pretty monochromatic, much like our congregation. We went sledding, had a meal, played games and did a worship service. It was great.
Sledding is terrifying, which is why it's fun I guess. It certainly is only fun half the time. the other half you are dragging yourself back up a slippery hill with other sledders aiming for you like they were trying to pick up a spare. Not exactly as life-threatening or dramatic as storming the beaches on D-day, but exciting none-the-less. You want a big hill so that the down portion is more fun. The bigger the hill, the bigger the climb. It's a vicious cycle. We had our share of wipe-outs and whitewashes. Getting snow up your nose is now called Snowt (a mashup of snow and snot). I decided it would be best to slide down the side of the hill to the car, rather than hike down. The problem was the trees. I almost did a Sonny Bono into a white pine. Pine is a soft wood, but somehow, I think it would win. I rolled off the sled instead and starfished the rest of the way down, narrowly avoiding the tree.
Then I got to watch all the kids, who had just seen me almost die, do the same thing, the whole time trying to remember where those signed indemnity wavers were. I am not a role model.
The retreat was a good idea and went well. Though, like salad dressing, the kids tended to separate into their component groups and needed a little shaking up here and there. The adults had no such problem. I dare say we had at least as much fun as the kids and I got to know some fine people.
Two, Two-and-a-half hours sleep tops, on an air mattress with chaos swirling around you is not the best setting for a good hard rest, but you find a way to make it through and you hope the kids have a good time. Even in college I was never the stay up all night type. I was almost always the first one to bed.
Your reward for all this is to get up before anyone else and cook breakfast and then to clean up after them. I thought I said no to parenthood! But, it is all fun and keeps me young, because I am sure I nary would have left the house if it weren't for the retreat.
Sitting through church after was really hard. The sermon was, how to say, technical, rather than inspiring and the pacing of the whole thing was sort of like swimming through nacho cheese. If you get anywhere it's gonna be slowly. Blessedly it was over after an hour.
I took a nap Sunday before the Hockey All-Star game and that was surprisingly refreshing, sustaining me until the ripe old hour of 9:45, when in the middle of a chapter, my body said "Sleep NOW!" in a very serviceable Charlton Heston as Moses voice. Who can argue with Moses? Come to think of it, it was more of a Phil Hartman doing Charlton Heston as Moses voice. For me, equally effective.
Thankfully, I am feeling normal today. Stiff from sledding, which I haven't done in an eon, but normal. It is a Monday and there are a lot of things going on professionally so this could be a great day, or a frustrating day. I have no idea what the weather brings and since there is travel in my forecast, I am sure that will be of some influence on my day as well.
The Winter Ooooohs
Yesterday was gorgeous, y'all. Sunny and crisp, with a nearly fresh blanket of snow on the ground. It was light until almost six o'clock, which makes me nostalgic for the long days ahead. I have been cruising through Corvette magazines and websites again, planning what projects will be done this season. Corvette fever, a regular yearly relapse for me is a sure sign that spring is on its way. January never visited upon us the expected onslaught of snow. It was cold, but it was also often sunny. The snow all year has been powdery, light and shiny. The pretty stuff. Bad for snow men, good for skiers. And it hasn't fallen in feet at a time, only inches. It has been, manageable.
No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
I stopped short of a driveway the other day to let a woman out who was trying to make a left turn onto a busy street. I saw a car coming on my left and I put my hand up to stop the woman from leaving the driveway. She looked at me and smiled and waved and went for it... con brio to coin a musical direction.
And so now, three feet off the front of my car is a tangled mess of late model sedan and two very angry people. I was on an emergency call myself and had to get out to my client in 25 minutes. I had an hour by contract, but I was eating lunch so 25 minutes was all that was left. Anyway, in good weather is would have been a stretch to get there in that time and the roads were sort of bad this day, so I sneaked around them and went on my way once I saw there were no injuries. I went to the police station after and gave my statement. I haven't heard anything back, but as of then, there had been no call to an accident. Probably another example of a couple customers from the Doantgott/Enny Insurance agency, featuring the popular affordable "Yo Fault" insurance program for thousands of drivers in the Michigan market.
That's what you get for trying to be nice.
"I'm too old for this stuff [sic]!" was the line Danny Glover made famous in the Lethal Weapon movies as Sergeant Murtaugh a guy who was seemingly always only days away from retirement. It's a line that pops through a chaperone's mind a time or two on an overnight event with a bunch of kids. I know it went through mine.
We got together with a couple youth groups from some local African American congregations in an attempt to explain to our children that there are other people than white people and Asians adopted by white people. I joke, our kids go to diverse schools and are all very inclusive people, but our youth group is pretty monochromatic, much like our congregation. We went sledding, had a meal, played games and did a worship service. It was great.
Sledding is terrifying, which is why it's fun I guess. It certainly is only fun half the time. the other half you are dragging yourself back up a slippery hill with other sledders aiming for you like they were trying to pick up a spare. Not exactly as life-threatening or dramatic as storming the beaches on D-day, but exciting none-the-less. You want a big hill so that the down portion is more fun. The bigger the hill, the bigger the climb. It's a vicious cycle. We had our share of wipe-outs and whitewashes. Getting snow up your nose is now called Snowt (a mashup of snow and snot). I decided it would be best to slide down the side of the hill to the car, rather than hike down. The problem was the trees. I almost did a Sonny Bono into a white pine. Pine is a soft wood, but somehow, I think it would win. I rolled off the sled instead and starfished the rest of the way down, narrowly avoiding the tree.
Then I got to watch all the kids, who had just seen me almost die, do the same thing, the whole time trying to remember where those signed indemnity wavers were. I am not a role model.
The retreat was a good idea and went well. Though, like salad dressing, the kids tended to separate into their component groups and needed a little shaking up here and there. The adults had no such problem. I dare say we had at least as much fun as the kids and I got to know some fine people.
Two, Two-and-a-half hours sleep tops, on an air mattress with chaos swirling around you is not the best setting for a good hard rest, but you find a way to make it through and you hope the kids have a good time. Even in college I was never the stay up all night type. I was almost always the first one to bed.
Your reward for all this is to get up before anyone else and cook breakfast and then to clean up after them. I thought I said no to parenthood! But, it is all fun and keeps me young, because I am sure I nary would have left the house if it weren't for the retreat.
Sitting through church after was really hard. The sermon was, how to say, technical, rather than inspiring and the pacing of the whole thing was sort of like swimming through nacho cheese. If you get anywhere it's gonna be slowly. Blessedly it was over after an hour.
I took a nap Sunday before the Hockey All-Star game and that was surprisingly refreshing, sustaining me until the ripe old hour of 9:45, when in the middle of a chapter, my body said "Sleep NOW!" in a very serviceable Charlton Heston as Moses voice. Who can argue with Moses? Come to think of it, it was more of a Phil Hartman doing Charlton Heston as Moses voice. For me, equally effective.
Thankfully, I am feeling normal today. Stiff from sledding, which I haven't done in an eon, but normal. It is a Monday and there are a lot of things going on professionally so this could be a great day, or a frustrating day. I have no idea what the weather brings and since there is travel in my forecast, I am sure that will be of some influence on my day as well.
The Winter Ooooohs
Yesterday was gorgeous, y'all. Sunny and crisp, with a nearly fresh blanket of snow on the ground. It was light until almost six o'clock, which makes me nostalgic for the long days ahead. I have been cruising through Corvette magazines and websites again, planning what projects will be done this season. Corvette fever, a regular yearly relapse for me is a sure sign that spring is on its way. January never visited upon us the expected onslaught of snow. It was cold, but it was also often sunny. The snow all year has been powdery, light and shiny. The pretty stuff. Bad for snow men, good for skiers. And it hasn't fallen in feet at a time, only inches. It has been, manageable.
No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
I stopped short of a driveway the other day to let a woman out who was trying to make a left turn onto a busy street. I saw a car coming on my left and I put my hand up to stop the woman from leaving the driveway. She looked at me and smiled and waved and went for it... con brio to coin a musical direction.
And so now, three feet off the front of my car is a tangled mess of late model sedan and two very angry people. I was on an emergency call myself and had to get out to my client in 25 minutes. I had an hour by contract, but I was eating lunch so 25 minutes was all that was left. Anyway, in good weather is would have been a stretch to get there in that time and the roads were sort of bad this day, so I sneaked around them and went on my way once I saw there were no injuries. I went to the police station after and gave my statement. I haven't heard anything back, but as of then, there had been no call to an accident. Probably another example of a couple customers from the Doantgott/Enny Insurance agency, featuring the popular affordable "Yo Fault" insurance program for thousands of drivers in the Michigan market.
That's what you get for trying to be nice.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The Origin of Minutiae
Good morning, blog sphere. Sorry it's been a while since I signed on to share a Grandiose Rumination. I haven't had too many as I have been all button-down and work lately. I hate when that happens. Life would be so much better if we all just hung around and traded what we needed with people we liked instead of working for it. We would actually have to form bonds and reciprocate kindness and live in relative peace... like the first few days in college before classes started. I loved the first few days of college before classes started. It was all just fun and laid back getting to know people, figuring out who you want to know and who you want to avoid and forging your groove. Then the classes start as does the studying that accompanies them and you have to limit your partying and socializing to three nights a week. Bummer. Of course, I went to a public school, so for all you ivy-leaguers and trust-fund babies that went to private school I don't know what your life was like. I had friends who went to some pretty highfalutin institutions and they always seemed to be partying.
But in reality adult world, we are already here on Thursday morning and I am only just catching my breath. There is quite a bit more of this frenetic activity to come on the horizon, which I guess is a good thing. It beats the alternative, which is being homeless and cold with nothing to do. I guess it is futile to complain.
A former colleague of mine was not especially well-spoken, but with what words he did know, he was creative. He had a young son and so was working hard at not swearing. He would say other words in the place of curses, but words that made him feel better nonetheless. Chief among them was 'minutiae'. Though I don't think he knew what it meant, and certainly couldn't have spelled it if he had a dictionary and a tutor on hand, he could bring the room to stitches with a well placed 'minutiae.'
"Man this new form we have to fill out for these things, it's just more minutiae, keeping us from doing our job!" was a typical thing he would say. Or after he got off the phone with a client or an employee (he was not especially well liked by either) he would slam the phone down and look at it and say "Minutiae!"
Going back and re-reading this, it is not funny. You had to be there, you had to know the guy, but my blog would later be based in minutiae. His kind of minutiae. I thank him for his gift.
I have had a lot of wonderful and interesting people to work with over the years. The current crop of managers is really excellent. We have a symbiotic understanding... I will give any of them the shirt off my back, but if you leave your shirt lying around, and I need it, I am going to steal the hell out of it.
We have limited resources and we will not hesitate to get ourselves out of a very bad situation by putting each other into a slightly bad situation. It is the only way we get anything done in our world. It is the cowboy support network and it is the only support network. It is, oddly, an honor system, placing limits on 'unauthorized reallocation' and without it, the whole place would come crashing down. I am proud to work with people who can make an honor system work, well, honorably.
I have never been turned down help when I have asked from these fine people. I do not turn them down. We are all of a piece and no one outside could possibly understand the level of minutiae we face. Hell, most of the people inside can't fathom. At least I have these good and honorable people to prop me up. This fact alone keeps me going when the minutiae is hip-deep.
When the minutiae is falling from the sky, you better have a good raincoat. When it is accumulating on the ground, your boots better be high and tight. And when you are living and breathing nothing but minutiae and it has overcome your ability to repel it, make the best of it by growing some Grandiose Ruminations. They grow well in the highly fertile soil of minutiae.
Book Progress
Down so far in 2011:
Naked Airport
My Lobotomy
Dexter by Design
A Walk in the Woods
In the middle of Jet Age and soon to take an unplanned detour through the book that Em got for me. Even being very busy I am keeping up my goal of 40 books in 2011! I am keeping you posted only because it keeps me honest and on my toes.
Toodles!
But in reality adult world, we are already here on Thursday morning and I am only just catching my breath. There is quite a bit more of this frenetic activity to come on the horizon, which I guess is a good thing. It beats the alternative, which is being homeless and cold with nothing to do. I guess it is futile to complain.
A former colleague of mine was not especially well-spoken, but with what words he did know, he was creative. He had a young son and so was working hard at not swearing. He would say other words in the place of curses, but words that made him feel better nonetheless. Chief among them was 'minutiae'. Though I don't think he knew what it meant, and certainly couldn't have spelled it if he had a dictionary and a tutor on hand, he could bring the room to stitches with a well placed 'minutiae.'
"Man this new form we have to fill out for these things, it's just more minutiae, keeping us from doing our job!" was a typical thing he would say. Or after he got off the phone with a client or an employee (he was not especially well liked by either) he would slam the phone down and look at it and say "Minutiae!"
Going back and re-reading this, it is not funny. You had to be there, you had to know the guy, but my blog would later be based in minutiae. His kind of minutiae. I thank him for his gift.
I have had a lot of wonderful and interesting people to work with over the years. The current crop of managers is really excellent. We have a symbiotic understanding... I will give any of them the shirt off my back, but if you leave your shirt lying around, and I need it, I am going to steal the hell out of it.
We have limited resources and we will not hesitate to get ourselves out of a very bad situation by putting each other into a slightly bad situation. It is the only way we get anything done in our world. It is the cowboy support network and it is the only support network. It is, oddly, an honor system, placing limits on 'unauthorized reallocation' and without it, the whole place would come crashing down. I am proud to work with people who can make an honor system work, well, honorably.
I have never been turned down help when I have asked from these fine people. I do not turn them down. We are all of a piece and no one outside could possibly understand the level of minutiae we face. Hell, most of the people inside can't fathom. At least I have these good and honorable people to prop me up. This fact alone keeps me going when the minutiae is hip-deep.
When the minutiae is falling from the sky, you better have a good raincoat. When it is accumulating on the ground, your boots better be high and tight. And when you are living and breathing nothing but minutiae and it has overcome your ability to repel it, make the best of it by growing some Grandiose Ruminations. They grow well in the highly fertile soil of minutiae.
Book Progress
Down so far in 2011:
Naked Airport
My Lobotomy
Dexter by Design
A Walk in the Woods
In the middle of Jet Age and soon to take an unplanned detour through the book that Em got for me. Even being very busy I am keeping up my goal of 40 books in 2011! I am keeping you posted only because it keeps me honest and on my toes.
Toodles!
Tuesday Morning, Please be Gone, I'm Tired of You
Bill's Book Club
It has been cold lately here in the great north. Not really cold, frigid. It is the kind of cold that you would scarcely notice if it were 10 degrees colder. It all becomes relative after a certain point and we have reached that point. It is perfect reading weather.
The toilet in the half bath has been rendered inoperable due to a frozen supply pipe. I almost forgot last night and was actually in situ before remembering I could not avail myself of that particular facility. A quick jaunt up the stairs fixed my predicament so all was well in the end.
I am almost through A Walk in the Woods, which will be my 4th book of the year. Bill Bryson is so amazingly good. I can't describe how much I appreciate and aspire to his quality of writing, ability to tell a story and present difficult facts in a way that is palatable and meaningful without being forced and sort of nebulous. Thank you, Mr. Bryson. I look forward to the 3 other of your books I have selected for future reading.
Em bought me a book by a local man, a former columnist for the Grand Rapids Press by the name of Tom Rademacher. I look forward to reading it, too. I believe it is a collection of columns and stories about normal people from around here. I like that kind of thing very much and it was thoughtful of Em to buy it for me.
I think, though, I will take a break from the first person story-telling genre for a book or two just to keep it lively. Not sure what I will read next, but I will have to choose soon.
Something Good This Way Comes
I got a hold of the woman I used to work with and she is going to help me out. We haven't done anything substantive, yet, but anything is something and something is almost always better than nothing and since nothing is what I have had a whole lot of, I will take anything as a positive sign. See how I did that?
Re-connections
I am very pleased to have re-connected with a couple buddies with whom I used to work. Barnes and Noble is a place filled with a wide variety of people. They range from merely odd, to mentally very ill, but almost all of them are kind and wonderful people. You can see why I didn't fit in there.
Every unit I worked in, in every state was filled with enjoyable people of above average intelligence and certainly above average wit. Lew, regular reader, was the only source of sanity for me in New Jersey. When he got moved to another store, I knew it was time to leave. So I moved. Not solely on account of Lew leaving, but it didn't hurt. Lew was one of those with uncommon wit, like a restless whip in the hands of a dangerous man. Mike and Clayton fall into the that category nicely as well. I worked with them in Muskegon and we got through some pretty interesting times together. When I left the company, you know, we just had a hard time maintaining closeness.
Well, now we are at least making an attempt, so just like with the above item, even though nothing has happened per se, it is happening and I'll take it! Can't wait to get together with the guys and riff on some highly intellectual movie scenes or to reminisce. Whatever we do it will be time well spent. This much I know.
Furious 'D'
I am spending a lot more time in Detroit ('Angry fist shake here'). I am not happy to be on the road so much, especially in crappy weather. We all know about my feelings toward winter and driving in winter and snow and cold and winter. I don't like you, winter. Anyhow, I keep going back to the good things... let's hope they come! Soon!
It has been cold lately here in the great north. Not really cold, frigid. It is the kind of cold that you would scarcely notice if it were 10 degrees colder. It all becomes relative after a certain point and we have reached that point. It is perfect reading weather.
The toilet in the half bath has been rendered inoperable due to a frozen supply pipe. I almost forgot last night and was actually in situ before remembering I could not avail myself of that particular facility. A quick jaunt up the stairs fixed my predicament so all was well in the end.
I am almost through A Walk in the Woods, which will be my 4th book of the year. Bill Bryson is so amazingly good. I can't describe how much I appreciate and aspire to his quality of writing, ability to tell a story and present difficult facts in a way that is palatable and meaningful without being forced and sort of nebulous. Thank you, Mr. Bryson. I look forward to the 3 other of your books I have selected for future reading.
Em bought me a book by a local man, a former columnist for the Grand Rapids Press by the name of Tom Rademacher. I look forward to reading it, too. I believe it is a collection of columns and stories about normal people from around here. I like that kind of thing very much and it was thoughtful of Em to buy it for me.
I think, though, I will take a break from the first person story-telling genre for a book or two just to keep it lively. Not sure what I will read next, but I will have to choose soon.
Something Good This Way Comes
I got a hold of the woman I used to work with and she is going to help me out. We haven't done anything substantive, yet, but anything is something and something is almost always better than nothing and since nothing is what I have had a whole lot of, I will take anything as a positive sign. See how I did that?
Re-connections
I am very pleased to have re-connected with a couple buddies with whom I used to work. Barnes and Noble is a place filled with a wide variety of people. They range from merely odd, to mentally very ill, but almost all of them are kind and wonderful people. You can see why I didn't fit in there.
Every unit I worked in, in every state was filled with enjoyable people of above average intelligence and certainly above average wit. Lew, regular reader, was the only source of sanity for me in New Jersey. When he got moved to another store, I knew it was time to leave. So I moved. Not solely on account of Lew leaving, but it didn't hurt. Lew was one of those with uncommon wit, like a restless whip in the hands of a dangerous man. Mike and Clayton fall into the that category nicely as well. I worked with them in Muskegon and we got through some pretty interesting times together. When I left the company, you know, we just had a hard time maintaining closeness.
Well, now we are at least making an attempt, so just like with the above item, even though nothing has happened per se, it is happening and I'll take it! Can't wait to get together with the guys and riff on some highly intellectual movie scenes or to reminisce. Whatever we do it will be time well spent. This much I know.
Furious 'D'
I am spending a lot more time in Detroit ('Angry fist shake here'). I am not happy to be on the road so much, especially in crappy weather. We all know about my feelings toward winter and driving in winter and snow and cold and winter. I don't like you, winter. Anyhow, I keep going back to the good things... let's hope they come! Soon!
Friday, January 21, 2011
Friday Miscellany
Car Show!
We will be second-homeward bound later today. It is the highly anticipated weekend we go to the car show with Greg and Dave. I love the car show. I wish I had enough money to shut the thing down for 2 hours so I could just go through it alone with my friends, but that ain't gonna happen. It becomes hard to look at the cars critically when people are traipsing here and there and everywhere, but it is worth it nonetheless.
It isn't really so much the people in general as it is the children. I don't mean teens, I mean the young ones. It seems as if there is some tacit understanding among them that they must touch everything. I believe it is a well-organized conspiracy to take out the weakest among us by foisting child-borne disease upon them. It's almost like a contest. Who can leave more finger prints?
I like to touch things, too, to gain a further appreciation of the quality of the surface. Say a paint job, or the materials used for the interior. But I doubt these kids are touchy-feely for purposes of making a rational decision based on perceived quality. They just want to touch.
And sit and play car. In every car. This never gets tiring. To them. I am tired of it already and I won't be there for another 24 hours yet. I understand I have to wait in line to sit in a particular model. Maybe there is heavy buzz, it's a new introduction or there is a change from the previous year or something. I am critically evaluating these machines based on a specific list of wants and needs and the hope that someday, I can drop this Fisher Price company I work for and get a big boy job with a big boy paycheck. And no, I do not want to work at Big Boy.
I think there should be a rule that you have to have a credit rating over 700 to touch or sit in the cars. After all, most of us finance our cars so shouldn't we be required to show ability (if not intent) to purchase? I reckon that would knock out a bunch of people. Especially the kids. Let's face it, most of the adults, too.
Siriusly
As predicted, I am spending most of my time between Channel 30, 'The Coffeehouse', and channel 33, vaguely named 'The Bridge' with some 'Deep Trax' and 'Classic Vinyl' thrown in when I get tired of weepy singer songwriter types and their feelings. I admit, I love mush music, but sometimes it does get a little maudlin, like the later episodes of M*A*S*H when they stopped trying to be funny and started trying to prove a point. But I can change the channel and there is always something on and it is never someone trying to sell me a car. So far? Thumbs up.
Ferry Fairy
Among my many talents is driving and being in the right place this weekend to ferry a van across the state for my company. This is not the first time. Because of my unique situation (that of having and impossibly large area of responsibility through which, to which, and from which I am always driving) I fairly often get pressed into service as livery delivery, and courier. I quipped once to my boss that I am either the most over-paid courier or the most underpaid manager in America. He said I was both and sent me on my way. This means Em will drive back in Large Marge the Barge and I will follow (or attempt to) in some van of unknown origin and condition.
You'll recall we have lost many company vehicles over the last few months to deer and other maladies like the back ends of other cars and some guard rails. So we do the only thing that makes any sense, which is to buy more vehicles to crash. Yeee Haw, we're goin' for a record!
My assessment of some of the issues with our vehicles is that partially the reason for them getting into accidents is because they are improperly maintained. I drove one on a dark winter night and had to go so slow on the highway, not due to lack of power or ability to speed off, but because the headlights were so poor. I could have set the cruise control (oh, wait no I couldn't because that is an option, and options are not an option), so I could have put a cinder block on the pedal, gotten out and run beside the van with two stick candles and been able to see farther than by using the headlights alone. This fails to mention the dreadfully inadequate windshield wipers that barely touched the terribly pocked and scarred windshield. It was no surprise, by the way, that this very van would become the latest casualty of deer strike, (of course I haven't checked my e-mail or read my reports this morning so I suppose I may have spoken too soon), because if you can't see it, it may as well not be there. Anyway, problem solved. The hard way, perhaps, but that's the way we do things.
So, will it be a newer van that is still proud and has life left? Or will it be a sagging, rusty hulk with sunken springs that results in a sort of skyward look as if it were prostrate, begging God himself to smite it and put it out of its misery? I have my guesses. If I were a betting man, it will be a very loud, slow, giggly ride home wrestling a bouncy steering wheel, and squishy brakes that are only vaguely aware of their purpose. I doubt it will even have a radio. If it does, I won't be able to hear it over the din.
Then there's the picture of me driving a van with no windows merrily down the way. The kids call it a 'sketch van', as in 'sketchy'. We used to call it a kidnap van, or a Mister Rogers, (ok, I called it that... he creeped my out!). I hope to God there isn't an Amber Alert because I'll get pulled over and searched at the boarder of every municipality. I have one of those faces as it is... I just look even more guilty and lascivious behind the wheel of a windowless van. It the heater is bad, I'll have to put up the hood of my sweatshirt, which means they will assume I am on my way to blow up... something.
Pray for me, brothers, sisters, well-wishers and friends. It's gonna be a long ride home.
We will be second-homeward bound later today. It is the highly anticipated weekend we go to the car show with Greg and Dave. I love the car show. I wish I had enough money to shut the thing down for 2 hours so I could just go through it alone with my friends, but that ain't gonna happen. It becomes hard to look at the cars critically when people are traipsing here and there and everywhere, but it is worth it nonetheless.
It isn't really so much the people in general as it is the children. I don't mean teens, I mean the young ones. It seems as if there is some tacit understanding among them that they must touch everything. I believe it is a well-organized conspiracy to take out the weakest among us by foisting child-borne disease upon them. It's almost like a contest. Who can leave more finger prints?
I like to touch things, too, to gain a further appreciation of the quality of the surface. Say a paint job, or the materials used for the interior. But I doubt these kids are touchy-feely for purposes of making a rational decision based on perceived quality. They just want to touch.
And sit and play car. In every car. This never gets tiring. To them. I am tired of it already and I won't be there for another 24 hours yet. I understand I have to wait in line to sit in a particular model. Maybe there is heavy buzz, it's a new introduction or there is a change from the previous year or something. I am critically evaluating these machines based on a specific list of wants and needs and the hope that someday, I can drop this Fisher Price company I work for and get a big boy job with a big boy paycheck. And no, I do not want to work at Big Boy.
I think there should be a rule that you have to have a credit rating over 700 to touch or sit in the cars. After all, most of us finance our cars so shouldn't we be required to show ability (if not intent) to purchase? I reckon that would knock out a bunch of people. Especially the kids. Let's face it, most of the adults, too.
Siriusly
As predicted, I am spending most of my time between Channel 30, 'The Coffeehouse', and channel 33, vaguely named 'The Bridge' with some 'Deep Trax' and 'Classic Vinyl' thrown in when I get tired of weepy singer songwriter types and their feelings. I admit, I love mush music, but sometimes it does get a little maudlin, like the later episodes of M*A*S*H when they stopped trying to be funny and started trying to prove a point. But I can change the channel and there is always something on and it is never someone trying to sell me a car. So far? Thumbs up.
Ferry Fairy
Among my many talents is driving and being in the right place this weekend to ferry a van across the state for my company. This is not the first time. Because of my unique situation (that of having and impossibly large area of responsibility through which, to which, and from which I am always driving) I fairly often get pressed into service as livery delivery, and courier. I quipped once to my boss that I am either the most over-paid courier or the most underpaid manager in America. He said I was both and sent me on my way. This means Em will drive back in Large Marge the Barge and I will follow (or attempt to) in some van of unknown origin and condition.
You'll recall we have lost many company vehicles over the last few months to deer and other maladies like the back ends of other cars and some guard rails. So we do the only thing that makes any sense, which is to buy more vehicles to crash. Yeee Haw, we're goin' for a record!
My assessment of some of the issues with our vehicles is that partially the reason for them getting into accidents is because they are improperly maintained. I drove one on a dark winter night and had to go so slow on the highway, not due to lack of power or ability to speed off, but because the headlights were so poor. I could have set the cruise control (oh, wait no I couldn't because that is an option, and options are not an option), so I could have put a cinder block on the pedal, gotten out and run beside the van with two stick candles and been able to see farther than by using the headlights alone. This fails to mention the dreadfully inadequate windshield wipers that barely touched the terribly pocked and scarred windshield. It was no surprise, by the way, that this very van would become the latest casualty of deer strike, (of course I haven't checked my e-mail or read my reports this morning so I suppose I may have spoken too soon), because if you can't see it, it may as well not be there. Anyway, problem solved. The hard way, perhaps, but that's the way we do things.
So, will it be a newer van that is still proud and has life left? Or will it be a sagging, rusty hulk with sunken springs that results in a sort of skyward look as if it were prostrate, begging God himself to smite it and put it out of its misery? I have my guesses. If I were a betting man, it will be a very loud, slow, giggly ride home wrestling a bouncy steering wheel, and squishy brakes that are only vaguely aware of their purpose. I doubt it will even have a radio. If it does, I won't be able to hear it over the din.
Then there's the picture of me driving a van with no windows merrily down the way. The kids call it a 'sketch van', as in 'sketchy'. We used to call it a kidnap van, or a Mister Rogers, (ok, I called it that... he creeped my out!). I hope to God there isn't an Amber Alert because I'll get pulled over and searched at the boarder of every municipality. I have one of those faces as it is... I just look even more guilty and lascivious behind the wheel of a windowless van. It the heater is bad, I'll have to put up the hood of my sweatshirt, which means they will assume I am on my way to blow up... something.
Pray for me, brothers, sisters, well-wishers and friends. It's gonna be a long ride home.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Progress Report
Reading My Way Through 2011
So far, so good. I have read about the history and development of the airports of the world, which was a snooze, but I am glad I read it. I went on to read a book about a man who had a Lobotomy at the age of 12 and his struggles and tribulations and eventual redemption and peace. It was really good and very worth reading. Then, to clear my head, I rammed through the fourth book in the 'Dexter' series which was better than the third one, not as good as the first or second. I get the device, but the guy is supposed to be a serial killer and the body count is always racked up by the other killers. Dex gets in maybe one or two. The whole 'frustrated killer' thing is wearing a little thin. We'll see if this is fixed in the most recent book which I will read later in the year. Right now, I am taking 'A Walk in the Woods' with Bill Bryson following along as he hikes the Appalachian Trail. He has only just begun and I am already there with him. Bryson is a genius. A brilliant observer. An amazing writer. A great humorist.
'Walk...' will take me a little time. It's a bit lengthier and there is much to absorb in Bryson's dense writing. He packs a lot into as little as possible. He manages to get all the subtext of emotion through, too, so the spaces between the writing are important as well. You don't breeze through a Bryson book. You savor it. If you don't you'll miss half of it and that is a shame.
So I am on pace for 40 books. In the summer, I'll start reading two at a time, one for the outhouse, one for the bed side. For now, one is all I can do.
Dreams and Visions
Emily asked me to come up with a dream and outline some steps to achieve it. This as assistance for an exercise the Cool Cats (her hearing impaired student group) are doing. I have so many dreams, I don't know where to begin. But, again for the second time in as many days, goal setting came up as a topic of conversation. So, I shall set some goals and some metrics and go forth. My first goal is to find the time to pluck a do-able dream from the many floating just above my head which are not so tangible (like being a pirate, or owning an airplane, or having abs like the "Situation"), and set some goals. Baby steps.
Emily is focused on a garage. Good dream. Ours is moldering into the ground at an ever-increasing rate. It is alarming, actually. After 4 years of no discernible erosion, the old girl is coming down fast. The door, once nearly impossible to operate is now essentially impossible to operate. A window rotted and popped out of its frame. I think it was a load bearing window. Anyway, it is no longer a weather tight structure and it would be feeble to expend the effort to try and make it so.
The time is growing nigh and so we are talking about it in hushed tones with the vehemence that comes when ones hand is forced and action must be taken. I have offered favors of day labor to several friends who have projects they are working on in the hopes I can cash those chips in before too long because the only way I am going to get a new garage is to build one myself. And by myself, I mean myself and my army of fine friends who have carpentry skills and work for beer. Domestic beer. Cheap domestic beer. From a keg.
I am looking every day at the kit garage website and seeing if there is a closeout model that just went on sale for 90% off, but of course lumber never goes out of style, so that's not likely to happen. And of course the economy is picking up a bit so prices are starting to come alive. Unfortunately, my company hasn't heard of this new-found optimism and I am still operating on a salary reduction.
But even if I wasn't that still would change anything. The line between want and need is going to cross sooner rather than later and something will have to give. Likely that something will be the main support beam of my garage.
One Last Note
Sometimes I am myopic and don't really see what's going on outside my own sphere. I saw Clayton Pauer, who I used to work with at Barnes and Noble in Muskegon in December. It was all me me me me me me me me me me me. Why he didn't punch me in the face is beyond me me me me me me. And so while Clayton was apprised of all aspects of my life, I never stopped to realize he has some big things going on, too. Please go to his web page and read about his quest. He and Mike Spalsbury (who worked with us as well and with whom I was at one point going to try to be on a game show testing out knowledge of pop culture) are doing this together and need support in many forms. Give them a hand if you are able.
Clay-hopefully my plug makes up for my endemic egomaniacal inability to ask the simple question, "what have you been up to?" Best of luck and I can't wait to talk to you in person about your plans and how this all came about. Benne fortuna!
So far, so good. I have read about the history and development of the airports of the world, which was a snooze, but I am glad I read it. I went on to read a book about a man who had a Lobotomy at the age of 12 and his struggles and tribulations and eventual redemption and peace. It was really good and very worth reading. Then, to clear my head, I rammed through the fourth book in the 'Dexter' series which was better than the third one, not as good as the first or second. I get the device, but the guy is supposed to be a serial killer and the body count is always racked up by the other killers. Dex gets in maybe one or two. The whole 'frustrated killer' thing is wearing a little thin. We'll see if this is fixed in the most recent book which I will read later in the year. Right now, I am taking 'A Walk in the Woods' with Bill Bryson following along as he hikes the Appalachian Trail. He has only just begun and I am already there with him. Bryson is a genius. A brilliant observer. An amazing writer. A great humorist.
'Walk...' will take me a little time. It's a bit lengthier and there is much to absorb in Bryson's dense writing. He packs a lot into as little as possible. He manages to get all the subtext of emotion through, too, so the spaces between the writing are important as well. You don't breeze through a Bryson book. You savor it. If you don't you'll miss half of it and that is a shame.
So I am on pace for 40 books. In the summer, I'll start reading two at a time, one for the outhouse, one for the bed side. For now, one is all I can do.
Dreams and Visions
Emily asked me to come up with a dream and outline some steps to achieve it. This as assistance for an exercise the Cool Cats (her hearing impaired student group) are doing. I have so many dreams, I don't know where to begin. But, again for the second time in as many days, goal setting came up as a topic of conversation. So, I shall set some goals and some metrics and go forth. My first goal is to find the time to pluck a do-able dream from the many floating just above my head which are not so tangible (like being a pirate, or owning an airplane, or having abs like the "Situation"), and set some goals. Baby steps.
Emily is focused on a garage. Good dream. Ours is moldering into the ground at an ever-increasing rate. It is alarming, actually. After 4 years of no discernible erosion, the old girl is coming down fast. The door, once nearly impossible to operate is now essentially impossible to operate. A window rotted and popped out of its frame. I think it was a load bearing window. Anyway, it is no longer a weather tight structure and it would be feeble to expend the effort to try and make it so.
The time is growing nigh and so we are talking about it in hushed tones with the vehemence that comes when ones hand is forced and action must be taken. I have offered favors of day labor to several friends who have projects they are working on in the hopes I can cash those chips in before too long because the only way I am going to get a new garage is to build one myself. And by myself, I mean myself and my army of fine friends who have carpentry skills and work for beer. Domestic beer. Cheap domestic beer. From a keg.
I am looking every day at the kit garage website and seeing if there is a closeout model that just went on sale for 90% off, but of course lumber never goes out of style, so that's not likely to happen. And of course the economy is picking up a bit so prices are starting to come alive. Unfortunately, my company hasn't heard of this new-found optimism and I am still operating on a salary reduction.
But even if I wasn't that still would change anything. The line between want and need is going to cross sooner rather than later and something will have to give. Likely that something will be the main support beam of my garage.
One Last Note
Sometimes I am myopic and don't really see what's going on outside my own sphere. I saw Clayton Pauer, who I used to work with at Barnes and Noble in Muskegon in December. It was all me me me me me me me me me me me. Why he didn't punch me in the face is beyond me me me me me me. And so while Clayton was apprised of all aspects of my life, I never stopped to realize he has some big things going on, too. Please go to his web page and read about his quest. He and Mike Spalsbury (who worked with us as well and with whom I was at one point going to try to be on a game show testing out knowledge of pop culture) are doing this together and need support in many forms. Give them a hand if you are able.
Clay-hopefully my plug makes up for my endemic egomaniacal inability to ask the simple question, "what have you been up to?" Best of luck and I can't wait to talk to you in person about your plans and how this all came about. Benne fortuna!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Small Voices and the Claw-Bearing Alarm Clock
First With the Pun
As you all are smart enough to know, I use mostly songs, albums, band names and parodies of those as my post titles and headers. That is the only reason I am writing "The Claw Bearing Alarm Clock" bit, because it is like the 60's one hit wonder "The Strawberry Alarm Clock" of Incense and Peppermints fame. Of course in this case, I am talking about Juliette, who has managed to turn my hair trigger readiness to her advantage.
She sleeps with us and since she and Atticus is restless and doesn't sleep through the night, we close him out. This necessitates having a food dish, water bowl and restroom facilities for the cat in my bedroom about which I expressed my extreme consternation many, many blentries ago. Juliette has taken to using the very expensive carpet in our room as a scratching medium. To stop this, I have to sleep several layer more lightly than I normally would and either snap my fingers or find the energy to admonish her vocally. The latter doesn't usually work since my throat is dry and I was just awakened from a sleep.
Juliette, the dear, now uses this against me. See, she doesn't enjoy being locked in the room, either and in the mornings, when she's really ready to go, she starts scratching the carpet perniciously, knowing it will wake me up, I will look at the alarm and notice it's not worth going back to sleep and get up and let her out.
I open the door and Atticus is always right there in the hall. He wants us to be up, too. She sees him, rears back, looks at me with fear and loathing as if to say "I thought I told you to take care of this!"
This chain of events has played out more or less the same way for much of the last week. I think it Juliette is so restless to get out and play, we need to reinstate the open door policy, or close them both out completely. I am tired of this song by the Claw Bearing Alarm Clock.
Small Voices
Small voices can sometimes have big impact. Driving home from Detroit last night, I got a bolt from the blue. "It said quite clearly call Magna Zimmerman." Actually, it didn't say that at all, but I am not going to put the real name of the person my psyche told me to call as I don't know whether she would appreciate that or not.
Anyhow, we used to work together until one day, she was not there. I still don't know the circumstances surrounding her exit and I frankly never attempted to get a hold of her at the time, which I feel badly about. In a former life she was a head hunter and recruiter and had designs on doing public speaking gigs and was putting some stuff together.
Within seconds, I found her on speakerwiki and sent an e-mail. I hope she calls me. My e-mail was simple, it had to be as it was limited to 100 characters to avoid spammers. The voice was so clear in my head that I have a strong feeling about it. Keep your fingers crossed that if I build it, they will come.
Podcast
So, I have had no time to put real energy into this idea, which sits in an incubated section of my mind where my book is keeping it company. It is safe there, and it will grow, but the process is often slow as this spot is way in the back of my mind. I have to move a lot of things to get there. But I like this idea enough to at least do some poking around and investigating.
In one day since I posted about the possibility, I have had a lot of positive response. I have a person working on instructions for how to make and distribute a podcast courtesy of Heather O. in Illinois. I have a new blog template courtesy of TMcR which will bow sometime next week if all goes as planned and I have a couple spit-ball ideas of what do do and how to format the cast.
First, it will be audio for now, but I hope to include some sort of graphic if possible. I will consult my multi-media friends about this soon. It will be about 1/2 hour max and maybe more like 20 minutes, once per week.
The first segment will be an "In the news" type of segment... perhaps called "Our Messed up World" where I can make jokes about horrible things that happened in the world that week. I'm sure I can't out-daily the Daily Show, or be more Colbertian than Colbert, but I believe I can run behind them and catch the scraps.
The second segment will be me and possibly a guest or guests either telling funny stories we lived through (some of which may be nay, will be, blog repeats) or doing some improv type comedy stuff or bits we have written, or discussions of books or movies or the like that we can make funny. This segment will be the bulk of the podcast.
Segment three will be the close with a random thought or gag and perhaps, if we ever get this advanced, a bit of a preview of the next cast.
I know none of this breaks ground, but I don't know what the heck I'm doing. I think keeping it simple will make it a reality faster. People say you should have a goal when starting an endeavor and that goal should be clearly stated and all decisions you make should be clearly steering you toward that goal. This is good advice and it is where I almost always doom myself because I usually just do things because they sound fun.
In the interest of self-improvement and the betterment of all the free world, I will state a goal.
"The Podcast is meant to be entertaining first and foremost and bring joy to a joyless world. If anyone accidentally learns something, or some wisdom burbles up from the ground like a bubblin' crude, then so be it but I swear it is purely accidental. If anyone gets offended, it is also accidental, however no apologies will be made.
"We will explore the fun side of dark things and do it in a conversational tone that hopefully everyone will be able to enjoy.
"In the end, I hope the thing goes viral and I can stop working for a living and do the podcast, speak publicly and do things I love to do rather than what I have to do and spread that love around and hope it takes root and grows."
Stay tuned peeps. This could be fun!
As you all are smart enough to know, I use mostly songs, albums, band names and parodies of those as my post titles and headers. That is the only reason I am writing "The Claw Bearing Alarm Clock" bit, because it is like the 60's one hit wonder "The Strawberry Alarm Clock" of Incense and Peppermints fame. Of course in this case, I am talking about Juliette, who has managed to turn my hair trigger readiness to her advantage.
She sleeps with us and since she and Atticus is restless and doesn't sleep through the night, we close him out. This necessitates having a food dish, water bowl and restroom facilities for the cat in my bedroom about which I expressed my extreme consternation many, many blentries ago. Juliette has taken to using the very expensive carpet in our room as a scratching medium. To stop this, I have to sleep several layer more lightly than I normally would and either snap my fingers or find the energy to admonish her vocally. The latter doesn't usually work since my throat is dry and I was just awakened from a sleep.
Juliette, the dear, now uses this against me. See, she doesn't enjoy being locked in the room, either and in the mornings, when she's really ready to go, she starts scratching the carpet perniciously, knowing it will wake me up, I will look at the alarm and notice it's not worth going back to sleep and get up and let her out.
I open the door and Atticus is always right there in the hall. He wants us to be up, too. She sees him, rears back, looks at me with fear and loathing as if to say "I thought I told you to take care of this!"
This chain of events has played out more or less the same way for much of the last week. I think it Juliette is so restless to get out and play, we need to reinstate the open door policy, or close them both out completely. I am tired of this song by the Claw Bearing Alarm Clock.
Small Voices
Small voices can sometimes have big impact. Driving home from Detroit last night, I got a bolt from the blue. "It said quite clearly call Magna Zimmerman." Actually, it didn't say that at all, but I am not going to put the real name of the person my psyche told me to call as I don't know whether she would appreciate that or not.
Anyhow, we used to work together until one day, she was not there. I still don't know the circumstances surrounding her exit and I frankly never attempted to get a hold of her at the time, which I feel badly about. In a former life she was a head hunter and recruiter and had designs on doing public speaking gigs and was putting some stuff together.
Within seconds, I found her on speakerwiki and sent an e-mail. I hope she calls me. My e-mail was simple, it had to be as it was limited to 100 characters to avoid spammers. The voice was so clear in my head that I have a strong feeling about it. Keep your fingers crossed that if I build it, they will come.
Podcast
So, I have had no time to put real energy into this idea, which sits in an incubated section of my mind where my book is keeping it company. It is safe there, and it will grow, but the process is often slow as this spot is way in the back of my mind. I have to move a lot of things to get there. But I like this idea enough to at least do some poking around and investigating.
In one day since I posted about the possibility, I have had a lot of positive response. I have a person working on instructions for how to make and distribute a podcast courtesy of Heather O. in Illinois. I have a new blog template courtesy of TMcR which will bow sometime next week if all goes as planned and I have a couple spit-ball ideas of what do do and how to format the cast.
First, it will be audio for now, but I hope to include some sort of graphic if possible. I will consult my multi-media friends about this soon. It will be about 1/2 hour max and maybe more like 20 minutes, once per week.
The first segment will be an "In the news" type of segment... perhaps called "Our Messed up World" where I can make jokes about horrible things that happened in the world that week. I'm sure I can't out-daily the Daily Show, or be more Colbertian than Colbert, but I believe I can run behind them and catch the scraps.
The second segment will be me and possibly a guest or guests either telling funny stories we lived through (some of which may be nay, will be, blog repeats) or doing some improv type comedy stuff or bits we have written, or discussions of books or movies or the like that we can make funny. This segment will be the bulk of the podcast.
Segment three will be the close with a random thought or gag and perhaps, if we ever get this advanced, a bit of a preview of the next cast.
I know none of this breaks ground, but I don't know what the heck I'm doing. I think keeping it simple will make it a reality faster. People say you should have a goal when starting an endeavor and that goal should be clearly stated and all decisions you make should be clearly steering you toward that goal. This is good advice and it is where I almost always doom myself because I usually just do things because they sound fun.
In the interest of self-improvement and the betterment of all the free world, I will state a goal.
"The Podcast is meant to be entertaining first and foremost and bring joy to a joyless world. If anyone accidentally learns something, or some wisdom burbles up from the ground like a bubblin' crude, then so be it but I swear it is purely accidental. If anyone gets offended, it is also accidental, however no apologies will be made.
"We will explore the fun side of dark things and do it in a conversational tone that hopefully everyone will be able to enjoy.
"In the end, I hope the thing goes viral and I can stop working for a living and do the podcast, speak publicly and do things I love to do rather than what I have to do and spread that love around and hope it takes root and grows."
Stay tuned peeps. This could be fun!
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