Egos and Stoplights

Story circa 1994.

I was sixteen years old and in high school. I was not dating Patricia at the time. During high school Patricia and I spent a lot of time on and off, off and on. I would swoon and pursue after her and eventually she would cave in. We would date for a number of months; she would then see the error of her ways and dump me. This was a very normal routine and we had both grown accustom to it.

So here we go again…

I was driving down the road in my pickup and saw an attractive girl in the car next to me. I smiled. She smiled back. She accelerated and I accelerated. She slowed and I slowed, all this time we stole glances at each other and she continued to smile at me, even a giggle or two. During this time I trying to look casual and still smile and look interesting. Teenage boys are easily some of the stupidest creatures on the planet. Not that this is a revelation to anyone. So we both pull up to a stoplight.

I turn towards her car and give her the big charm smile. When from the passenger seat pops into view a very stern face. She started laughing…and he continued to stare through my eyes into my quickly shrinking ego. I believe we sat at that stoplight for three hours and seventeen minutes, with her laughing, him staring, and me pretending to be preoccupied with my windshield.

Adolescence, such an enchanting phase.

Give it Up

Thursday I had to go to the dentist. As I mentioned in the post The Dentist Wants Your Teeth I thought Mr. mouth had an abnormal need for my munchers. Well it turns out I was right. He’s decided that all my wisdom teeth should come out. Does your dentist smile when he gives bad news? Mine does. What is that all about? Anyway after I finished my twenty three x-rays he sent me to see the oral surgeon.

So I dropped my paper work off at the oral surgeon. Beware if your doctors’ office is nicer than the oval office. You can bet your not going to get any bargains. After an engaging conversation with the receptionist, where they said that I would owe them $120 the next time we met, and I said, then lets not meet till the end of summer, I left.

I decided after all this discomfort I should go the blood bank and finish the day off right.

This started off as a joke in my head and pretty soon I was coming up with lots of reasons why this would be a good idea and few as to why it wasn't. The only compelling reason not to go was I really need a haircut. If you can believe that I would rather give blood than get my hair cut, you’d be right. But that’s for another post.

So I finished off the afternoon by giving a pint of blood for someone I do not know and will probably never meet. It felt good, and I liked knowing it might help someone in need. Last April my daughter needed blood for her heart surgery. An army of people stepped up and drained their veins for her. It was amazing, we were blown away by everyones willingness to give. Its been that long since I donated and I not sure why. I’m not scared of needles and can take the small amount of pain involved. To be honest it isn’t a painful process, and you get free juice and pretzels. What more could you ask for?

The truth is there is always a reason not to go, I’m busy, I don’t like pretzels, I don’t want someone to pump a pint of my blood into a bag. Anyway it worked out today and I hope that in eight weeks I go back. It wasn’t bad and I know someone needs it.

Additionally the blood bank will stop calling my house for the next eight weeks. That fact alone is easily worth a bucket of blood, and an hour of my time!

Lazy Thursday Blues: Take 7

Okay some cool stuff today!


Games-

Here is a new game called Flow... The point is to eat other things smaller than you. There is also one called Cloud but I havent checked it out yet.

Pictures-

Real etch-a-sketch drawing. Thanks to Matt Boyd for the link.


Video-

For those of you who missed this on the "Persimmons Are Falling" post.

Garden Gnome

Or this one!

Mario on Stage

If anyone has something cool they found. Feel free to share!

Of Cars and War

I'm the god of war. The Greeks called me Aries, the Romans referred to me as Mars but you can take your pick. I'm the symbol of virility, weapons, bloodshed and masculinity. I reap vengeance on the enemy and require reverence and fear from my followers. Why am I driving around with a bumper sticker that reads "Arms are for Hugging”?

For a number of years I have been pointing out to people who care to listen that I find the symbol used on Volvo’s quite ironic. It's difficult concept to grasp. Why would a car manufacture pick it? I've never really been sure.

The majority of Volvo drivers tend to shy away from the whole war thing. I believe that most people who drive the Swedish automobile are rather left leaning. It might have to do with the socialist bent of the Swedish government, the companies green manufacturing ideals, or it might just be a strange coincidence. Either way the stereotype, seems to hold. You don’t see many gun toting hillbillies driving Volvos. Most people that I point this symbol out to are astonished. Surprised by the fact that it has the nerve to sit there, insulting their beliefs and ideology.

So what were they thinking?

“…The symbol for Volvo's cars was the sign for iron – a circle with a diagonal arrow. The idea was to associate with Swedish steel, renowned for its durability...” Taken from volocars.com

So that's the story, but it's still pretty funny. When I'm driving down the road and see a Volvo I have trouble not snickering. As I sit in traffic I find my self putting Aries in the car with a ponytail and tie-dye shirt singing Credence Clearwater Revival.

I wonder what the Greeks would say?

Persimmons Are Falling

Persimmons are falling
They drop fast to the ground
The backyard is laden
With fruit all around

We've a number of fruit trees
They're in our side yard
An apple, plum, and persimmon
The last one I hold in little regard

We've lived in this house
Well over a year
The dropping of fruit
Is frequent 'round here

I mourn for each apple
I pine for each plum
We could have made pies
Or jam out of some

But persimmons are different
They aren't juicy or sweet
They're mealy and sod like
They're not great to eat

Persimmons are falling
Right outside my home
I'll cut the tree down
And add a lawn gnome!


-Peter Brown 2006

David and Marlene

We were living at our last house here in Santa Rosa. This probably occurred in 2003 if I had to guess.

I was out mowing the lawn, and one of my neighbors had come over to chat. Larry and I used to talk a lot as we had both been off work for a number of months. I'd grown very used to him and his company. I was apologizing for being the worst kept lawn on the block when another neighbor came out.

David and Marlene were new to the block, a few months or so. Patricia and I didn't know them that well, but the were both very nice. Additionally Marlene knew my name.

"Hello Peter" She smiled, "how are you?"

"See Larry," I quipped "Everyone comes out to celebrate when I finally mow the lawn!"

We laughed and Larry went back to his garage.

"Peter," Marlene said "I baked a cake and thought you and Patricia would like some of it."

"Thanks Marlene, that's very nice."

"Larcy..." She seemed a little surprised. "My name is Larcy. Like larceny."

Oh boy, here we go again. I have trouble leaving well enough alone. I wanted desperately to fix the problem and prove that I did like them, and didn't just picked a name at random. I suppose Larcy isn't terribly common and I could have just apologized, but that isn't my way.

"Oh... I'm sorry," I stammer, "I knew your husbands name was David, and I thought..."

"Michael." Now she looks hurt "Michael... Like Michael J Fox."

I turned the color of a beet.

"Sorry." I take the cake out of her now limp grip. "Thanks again for the cake."

I don't recall too many more conversations with Larcy or Michael.

As fate would have it my current neighbor hasn't got one clue what my name is. He'll call me Jerry, or Derek, or whatever comes into his head. I really don't care. I always respond, and don't correct him. Maybe someday I'll tell him, but probably not.

Lazy Thursday Blues: Take 6

Where's George Really cool dollar bill tracker... Where's your been?
Subservient Chicken He's here to do your bidding!...I liked die personaly...
License Database Check if your license is online.
20 Questions Online! Just like the new toy.

Still here?

Here's a Etch-A-Sketch FAQ

This is a very useful guide which can save you hours - just in case your unit does not behave correctly or you are having trouble creating a new Etch-A-Sketch document.

Q: My Etch-A-Sketch has a distorted display.
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: My Etch-A-Sketch has all of these funny little lines all over the screen.
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: How do I turn my Etch-A-Sketch off?
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: What's the shortcut for Undo?
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: How do I create an empty New Document window?
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: How do I Exit without Saving?
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: How do I set the background and foreground to the same color?
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: What is the proper procedure for rebooting my Etch-A-Sketch?
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: My Etch-A-Sketch has lines that prevent me from doing my art project.
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: How do I delete a document on my Etch-A-Sketch?
A: Pick it up and shake it.

Q: How do I keep from losing my Etch-A-Sketch documents in the middle of my work?
A: Stop shaking it.

Frisbees are Evil

Over the 4th of July a number of us went to Spring Lake and had a picnic. It was nice, I got some sun, Dew and fried chicken. I also gained a valuable bit of information. Frisbees do not follow directions well, and they seem to have a nasty bent on making people suffer. I can only conclude that Frisbees are evil.

My Father-in-law is a very nice man, but even he is unable to correct the evil nature of these discs! While we were playing a seemingly happy game the disc attacked the group of female spectators for no apparent reason. It was particularly interested in the younglings. It identified the smallest baby and flew at it. Luckily the women deflected it. Back in the hands of my father-in-law the Frisbee again wielded its power and went back to the babies for revenge. My father-in-law was rebuked, which is what the evil saucer was really after.

My Frisbee is manic depressive. I can only attribute this to the design on the top. It’s a yellow disc with a large smiling face. It’s hard to be evil with a large smiling face on your top. We would get an hour or so of very nice behavior followed by thirty minutes of sheer terror. Flying at small dogs, children playing, or people sitting on park benches minding their own business. It also tried to make me go into the womens restroom half a dozen times or so to retrieve it. Luckily Frisbees aren’t good at corners. It’s hard to guess what a Frisbee is thinking, but it can’t be happy thoughts.

One of the players stopped the Frisbee, that I had thrown, from knocking all the teeth out of his little girls head. This was done quite expertly, and in just the nick of time. I had no evil in my heart when I tossed the toy, but it knew exactly what it wanted. Costly dental X-rays. Evil Frisbees are so like that.

Email Fascist

I'm an email fascist. In fact its one of my primary duties. I process SPAM. My office receives about 4000 emails a day. Of those messages 70% are blocked as SPAM by our servers. My job is to go through and find all the ones that slip through the cracks. I process about 1000 messages a week.

I just got paid to spend the last TWO HOURS sifting through other peoples SPAM. I find that *Your Rolex at Rolodex Prices!*Sorry.. it sort of permeates into my being. Anyway I was saying... I find that *Get the recognition you deserve! Fire your BOSS!* So for the next hour or so I'll have these SPAM messages floating around in my head. I'm already a very easily influenced person. I mean, I own a Ginsu Knife. I have the amazing Ice Shaver! I was very close to calling Carton Sheets and making Millions. I don't need 100+ emails a day trying to convince me I can make money on E-Bay.

"I believe you," I say "but my boss told me to get rid of you... I'm sorry, you'll have to go."

It's a good thing we don't have cable anymore, or I would be calling into every late night infomercial and purchasing Tony Little products. Or an amazing knife set I'll never use. I want to have cookware that I can burn an egg on, just so I can peel it out and throw it away. SPAM is like the stupid cousin of infomercials. At least with infomercials you get a full 30 minutes of programming *Hoodia will change your life!* *Get your fr33 HoT PINK RAZOR PHONE!!* I've never met anyone who has ever admitted to purchasing anything from a SPAM email. I suppose If you ever did solicite a spammer you wouldn't want tell the rest of the world.

"I'm the reason someone in Nigeria wants to be your friend!"

Bee Calm

So I'm driving down the freeway on the way home from somewhere. I have no idea where.

PAUSE

I should let you all know that I'm not afraid of pain, needles, meetings or speaking in public. Bugs scare me, especialy bugs that can fly. There is something about a repulsive creation that can fly at your face at full speed. Add extra fear for the ones that are armed. Bee's are amoung the most scary insects.

UNPASE

I look over and what do I see sitting on my shoulder but a yellow jacket. What do I do? I break into a nice chorus of "Mr Blue bird on my shoulder!"

I Scream! I scream like death is knocking on the door. I flail my arms and manage to pull the car over. I jump from the car slam the door and run around the car checking my body for stinger weilding menaces, with no regard for freeway trafffic. What would you think if you saw some maniac on the side of the road? Right... no one stopped.

After I calmed down I looked in the window and to my shock there was a very unhappy black and yellow fuzzy caterpillar smeared over my drivers seat. I apologized to him for the mistake and then wiped him off my headrest.

The only thing worse than this would be publishing this story on the web