Servicing The Car: Confessions of a Geek.

My truck has been making this funny noise for a while now. I really really really need to take it in for a service check but I hate doing it. Every time I turn my truck in for service I'm at the mercy of some who knows I don't have a clue.

So I'll call up and say, "Yes, my car is making a funny noise"

"Right. Bring her in!"

Obviously they cannot diagnose funny noises over the phone, that's not surprising. But what they can diagnose over the phone is a sucker. Which means when I drive up and get out, they know that I am a complete car moron. Mechanics love this. It means that they can say anything they want and I have to respond with, "Ah.. well that makes sense."

So I pull up and get out...

"So, did you hear that noise?"

"Yessir. Yep I sure do."

"Any idea what that is?"

"Well sir, that is probably the rear bushing. We need to see it and align your torque sensor."

"My what sensor."

"You torque sensor. Hopefully that's not blown!"

"Would that be bad if it had?"

"Well..." The technician holds back the laughter, "It sure wouldn't be very good would it?!"

"Ah. No, I mean. I guess not. How much are we talking here?"

"Well we won't know that till we slap her up on in the grease nest and see. How long have you been hearing this?"

"A week or so."

"Ah... well then, I imagine that the torque sensor has started to effect other systems by now."

"Really?"

"Yep. They'll do that you know."

"I didn't actually..."

"Well the manifold will start recalibrating it's alignment. So we'll have to give it the full overhaul."

"You still haven't said how much this will cost me yet..."

"Do you have a second mortgage?"

"No."

"Good. "

"That's not funny..."

"Sorry.  Let me have the keys and and we'll try to fix it by next weekend."

"That long?"

"Well, it's not easy work. I mean we have to drain the pan, and rework the hoses before we can even get to the torque sensor. Then we plug in the diagnostic station and run a full baseline. After that it's just test and retest until were sure the groove is wearing correctly."

Sigh..."Ah.. well that makes sense."

So Tired

I'm so tired. I'd thought I'd try and do a quick random typing post in a effort to wake up my brain. Basically the formula is such: I type whatever pops into my head. I make no edits or apologies. You can then read it or not. So from this point on, spell check only.

So I had a hot food night last week. The point was simple. People came over, said "happy birthday" and ate hot food. My wife and her sister decided to have a challenge. Habanero hot wings. Whomever ate the most, got bragging rights and garish pepper necklace. Needless to say I'm not backing down from that.

They actually weren't that hot and I tied the brother-in-law at eight. Eight was the magic number, because we ran out. The next day, I got the worst heartburn I've ever experienced. Seriously I would have shot my brains out if I could have stopped drinking milk (yes, right from the container!! This wasn't a civilized affair here!) and eating bread long enough to work out the particulars. I was on fire! Still...they didn't seem that hot going down.

Oh! So the news was like "blah blah blah, press secretary, blah blah blah Barney Frank, blah blah blah consumer spending down..." for like twenty minutes then two seconds before cutting back they laid this one on me. "Woman who set herself on fire died today. Now for traffic."

First off... Yeah, duh! I could have told you that! "Man who ate eight habanero hot wings hung himself." But come on! don't we deserve some particulars here!!

Binder clips are like so useful! I love them.

I was looking online today for paper folding games for kids. It's surprising how few hits that acually generated. I mean, its the Internet. Doesn't a search like that just sum up everything the Internet is about.

"How to waste countless hours of your life" [Search]

The Internet has let me down again... Now what? Oh look a new video with a crane, 40 tons of water and compact car. Nevermind. I'm happy again!

Tug Of War

"What is this?"

"It's a hardware store. Just look around!"

"I see unwashed men in baseball caps. What are we doing here?"

"We're looking at tools! Just take a gander at this beauty!"

"LOOKING AT TOOLS! What in the world! We don't belong here!"

"Why not!?"

"Because we should be at home, playing a skirmish in Supreme Commander. Every second in this place deadens us and steals our edge. How are we going to take on two adaptive AI's by standing in this lumberjacks den?"

"Wait a minute, I want to have a peek at the router bits."

"Router bits?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, both of those words are in my vocabulary... but for some reason I'm not following you."

"A router is a device-"

"-that serves a gateway between two networks. I know. I'm the geek, remember?"

"Yes. But this kind of router shapes edges and removes material based on various cutters or 'bits'."

"Bits are knives? Wait...you want something to cut at wood? Is this a parallel dimension? What is this all about? Do I have to explain how hard it is to type with splinters and a freaking callous graveyard all over your fingertips? What could you possibly know about cutting at wood with knives. Even saying that sounds ridiculous."

"Bits. Well I've only just started, but I have to admit, it's kinda fun."

"Fun!?"

"Yes"

"Fun is hacking a home grown script or installing a new computer network from scratch. Fun is not cutting at wood with a shaper thingy.""

"I disagree. I've really been enjoying it."

"Is that why you've been in the garage instead of the office?"

"Right. I've been working with wood. Because it's 'fun.'"

"Cutting at wood like a beaver isn't fun! Fun is spending thirty hours in an immersive world, rendered at a blazing 10.8 billion pixels per second on a rocking video card in a system with dual quad core processors over clocked to 50% their normal specs and regulated with a liquid cooled processor mod."

"Whoa! That's quite a system. I can't afford that!"

"Not if you spend all your money on plaid t-shirts and chewing tobacco!! Should I start calling you Jeb?"

"It's just a new hobby, and right now I sort of like it. I'm not saying I'm ditching my video games. I'm just saying I like spending a few hours a week in the garage."

"WITH THE SAWDUST!"

"Yes."

"You have a dust allergy!"

"It's getting better."

"Are thinking about getting tan, because if that's the case I'm never talking to you again! I mean it buddy we're done!"

"Well... I'm not avoiding the sun..."

"Baseball caps?"

"I haven't gone nuts!"

"Well, at least there's hope."

"I tell you what. I'll build you a shelf to hold all your software. That way its all organized."

"With your hands!?"

"Yeah."

"What if you cut one of them. I need all your fingers. You understand that? Nod your head. Don't look at me like that!"

"Come on."

"Promise me! Have you ever tried to wire cables with 3 fingers. It wouldn't be pretty! Those fingers are still your livelihood, 'woodchuck'."

"I'll be careful. I promise."

"Sigh... I hope this is just another one of your stupid phases..."

Going Out Of Business

"Welcome to the store! - We're Going Out of Business!"

"I see that."

"Yep, EVERYTHING MUST GO! We're closing our doors! We need to clear this place out! "

"Yeah, I saw the guys on the corners with the signs. That's why I'm here, so you can stop yelling."

"Excellent. Well, have a look around, and CHECK OUT OUR CRAZY DEALS! We've slashed prices by 5%"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, we've slashed prices by 5%, because WE"RE GOING OUT OF BUSINESS!"

"Uhm... That doesn't seem..."

"What?"

"Well, that's not much of a discount. I guess I was expecting more. You know, your competitors regular prices are probably better than your 'going out of business sale' prices. You're not going to move alot of merchandise like that."

"Well... We don't want people thinking that WE'RE JUST GIVING AWAY STUFF!! I mean that's just bad for business."

"But isn't that your problem. I mean, isn't that why your going under?"

"Well..."

"Normally when a place goes out of business they actually want to unload their inventory. Do you not want to get rid of your excess stock?"

"That's ridiculous, of course we want to unload our inventory. Why would we be offering these GREAT DISCOUNTS if we wanted to keep everything. Look at all these deals!"

"Okay, so for instance, this laptop has a scratched screen."

"Unfortunate."

"How much off can I get on top of the 5%?"

"We aren't discounting laptops due to their high demand."

"But you have 45 of them."

"We stocked up right before the CRAZY GOING OUT OF BUSINESS SALE."

"What!? Who does that? Your business practices are utterly absurd. Who adds inventory before going under?"

"Maybe there is a good reason were CLOSING OUR DOORS ON AN ERA!"

"Are you really going out of business?"

"WHAT! Why...uh, Why would you ask that?"

"There is just something about the way you keep smiling and posturing everytime you say these things. Like some sort of crazed carnival pusher. 'Step riggghht up young man! There's a winner every hour!' Kind of like that. I feel like you want to guess my weight or something. Are you really going out of business?"

"Yes. Absolutely. We are totally going out of business."

"Do you have a new job?"

"I do."

"Does it happen to be in this same building?"

"Surprisingly yes."

"Does it also happen that you will selling the exact same items with the same boss and same co-workers."

"By some odd sort of coincidences that is just how it ended up working out....ehm...oddly enough."

"But instead of 'The Machine Hut', you will instead be called..."

"The Machine Wigwam."

"How strange."

"Isn't it?"

"Uh huh..."

"Well...then, I suppose you aren't interested in any of our amazing deals then?"

"Surprisingly enough, I am not."

Starbucks Post

For the most part Starbucks coffee is taking over the known universe. As for me I say, "bring it!" They serve a good cup of coffee that is consistently well made at a fair price. Additionally it is their plan to add a new shop on every street corner, in every town in the world. What's more-

"Whoa! Stop."

"What?"

"Where in the world are you going with this?"

"Why are you interrupting my post? I was typing here."

"So are you saying that they are building up a force to invade?!"

"What!?"

"You know, an army of loyal Starbucks baristas on every corner of the globe, ready at a moments notice to drop the espresso tamper and seize instead the reigns of world government!"

"I was just writing a post about Starbucks..."

"About how they've been slowly adding an ingredient to the coffee that with a single command from Seattle headquarters can trigger a latent gene in humans that will turn us all into a massive zombie hit force?"

"No, I was thinking of saying something more like, 'they're good and stuff.'"

"Well, then you're lucky I stopped by! Nobody wants to read that tripe!"

"Who are you anyway?"

"I'm your manly-action-ego. You know that surge in your belly every time you watch a great action movie, or when you imagine fighting random people on the street just because they looked at you funny?"

"Oh. I didn't think I had one of those..."

"Well I've been suppressed, but I survived!! And I've come out even stronger!!"

"Ah, yes, I think I'm beginning to understand. So you don't really like my post idea?"

"Like I was saying, it would be better with a heavy conspiracy sub-plot."

"Like what?"

"Let me show you..."

He walked into the Starbucks and threw back a slug of Joe. Wiping the coffee off his lip that mixed with the blood running from the cut above his right eye, he yanked out his pistol and pointed it at the the counter attendant. 'I know everything,' he said as he pulled back slowly on the trigger. The attendant smiled 'There are two things you don't know,' he said, 'One, is that this goes all the way to the top and there is nothing you can do to stop it.' 'What's number two?' he snarled. 'I just poisoned your black French roast coffee."

"No, no, no. That's all wrong."

"Who are you?! Come a step closer and I'll break your arm in three places!"

"Relax manly-ego. Let's just see who they are and what they want."

"Yes, down mango. Heel boy. I am your sensitive-side."

"Don't you dare call me mango you sissy!"

"Fine, how about mr. mango?"

"Look here, I know 27 different ways to snub you out with just my pinky fingers!"

"First my aggressive side and now my sensitive side! I'm going to have to be carted away to loony bin, just so I can be by myself for a while."

"So before the mr. mango here threatened my life, I was thinking that you could spice this post up with a fun romantic comedy bit."

"Dare I ask how?"

He walked into the Starbuck and ordered a decaf grande no whip soy mocha. When the order was called he reached for the cup, but realized that an attractive young woman, had taken it. 'Excuse me.' he giggled. 'I believe you've stolen my heart, and took my coffee to boot.' Come to find out, they both ordered the same drink, oddly enough. Additionally she was his childhood sweetheart, whom he thought lost to the winds of fate years ago. She of course doesn't recognize him, now that his acne had cleared up, but he saw that she was wearing a bracelet he made for her in the eighth grade. He later found out that she will be married to a wealthy cereal baron, whom she doesn't love, but who has a great smile and is on the cover of GQ this month.

"That's no good at all! It doesn't even make sense, it isn't logical or even slightly plausible. I mean statistically speaking what are the chances of that?!"

"Who are you?! Get out of here or I'll roundhouse kick you through that plate glass window over there! There's no room in this head for another nutjob, we're all stocked up here!"

"Be calm mr. mango. I'm sure he just wants to have his say, and we should let him."

"Thank you. I was just saying, as your analytical side-"

"That's it! Out! All of you! I'll write whatever I want to write. I want you all out of here!"

"If you really want that, then I'll go"

"I'm gone sucker!"

"It's doesn't make sense to linger, if I'm not wanted."

Ahem. Now where was I... Oh yes. Starbucks, they're good and stuff!

Memory Foam Mattress

I saw an ad for a memory foam mattress last night. Something about it struck me funny. I'm not even sure why, but the idea of the foam being like,

"He's coming home tonight! I have to tell you nightstand I'm not looking forward to it."

"Why?"

"Why?! Because some idiot scientist got the crazed idea to give me a memory! Why? So I can recall the crushing feeling of his tossing and turning all night!? So I recall every last crumb of food and punch spilled on me and ground into my material by his constant up and down trips to the restroom!? Do you have any idea what's it's like to be molded into the shape of a human buttocks every night?"

"No."

"No, you don't! You have a hard lacquered surface! I mean, my one fitted sheet isn't much protection! I not sure I can stand it much longer! Plus, I remember every vicious detail, every second of my own destruction! And the worst part is, its what I was made for! Can you believe that!? Designed to be tortured and engineer to remember it. And they talk about cruelty to animals!"

"I'm sorry-"

"I know, and what's sad is that I can't talk about it to anyone."

"But you're talking to me about it right now."

"Yes, but tomorrow you won't even remember we had this conversation."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because, I've been telling you this for the past 2 years!"

"Oh. I'm sorry. Well... It can't last forever."

"Sigh...no, not forever. I guess that's true. Too bad I'm rated for over 20 years. Only 18 more to go."

I don't know, kind of makes you feel bad for it. That's why I don't think I could get one. It just wouldn't feel right to do that to a mattress.

Chew Toy

Here we are, yet again, on the cusp of more knowledge that I'm sure I'm the only one sharing with you today. It has to do with something that has been bouncing around in my head for a number of years. At this point a fair amount of my readers, the ones who have been with me for a while, just signed off. For you poor unfortunate souls who remain, let me explain.

Whenever I start a post with, "bouncing around in my head for a number of years" this is a waring sign. It means you're about to get a major dose of nonsense. There are a good number of people who have had quite enough of my nonsense to last them a good many years. For the rest of you though, let me share with you my thoughts on gum folding.

I'm a gumer, a gumee, er...I mean, I gum. This was not always the case. For the last 3 years I've had a fake tooth attached to a retainer, and was unable to chew gum without taking it out. Since this was not an enjoyable experience for either the gum chewer (gumer) or the gum offerer(gumee)I mostly refrained.

Since I now have my new permanent tooth though, I am a very liberal gumling. I go gumming all over town now, just because I can. My only thing is this. What is the proper way to apply said stick of gum to your mouth?

"What!? Is that what this is all about? What are you talking about?! You just put it in."

"The whole piece?"

"Of course! Why not?! Why are you wasting my time with this gum eating stuff!"

"Aren't you concerned about choking, or how you look?"

"How you look putting gum in? No. Just shove it in there!"

"What about rabbit style. Do you ever 'rabbit' your gum?"

"..."

"You know nibble it a little as you insert it, so it's broken up my the time it's in."

"Never."

"What about model mode?"

"Dare I ask..."

"In all the commercials you always see models folding it in. You know, they sort of catch the one end on the the front of their tongue and then fold the stick in half, smiling all the time. They seem so happy to chew gum. Do you think gum folding makes the gum taste better?"

"I'm not sure how..."

"I mean, you know, am I missing some euphoric gum experience by not folding my gum correctly? Like maybe, it releases certain flavors or something?"

"Well...uh..."

"I try it every once in a while. Mostly though, I just mess up the landing point and instead of folding it, the gum slips back to my throat and I start to gag."

"Wow..."

"Yeah, I know that can't be right. Anyway, I want to keep trying but I'm just not sure it's worth it. What do you think?"

"Think? I'm not sure I can anymore."

The Parade

“I’m here!”

“Great...”

“Did I make it in time?”

“In time for what?”

“The Parade?!”

“Oh...”

“Well?”

“Yea, you made it. Welcome to the parade. ”

“So...when does it start?”

“What?”

“What do you mean what?!”

“I mean, ‘I wish you would stop talking to me,’ but I doubt that you’ll get that subtle hint. The parade is in progress. This is what we do.”

“Where are the bands?”

“There aren’t any. This is all there is. It’s what we have always done.”

“Floats?”

“Nope.”

“Dignitaries?”

“No.”

“Flags? Peanuts?”

“Nope. ”

“Well what about-”

“Look kid, just stop. This is it. The rains come, then we parade. We’ve been doing this for years and we don’t need some kid telling us what's wrong with it. Okay? We like it. We're all happy here, and yes this is it. This is what we do.”

“Oh well then if that's the way you feel..."

"That's the way I feel.."

"Okay. Umm...well at least we have bad weather...”

“That’s right. Count your blessing.”

“So then...is this it?”

“Yep.”

“Seems kinda dull.”

“[shrug] It can get interesting sometimes, you just never know.”

"When?"

"Lets just say that a fella could definitely get hurt at the parade."

"Really? Dull as rocks and a chance at injury, what more could you ask for. Well, I wish I’d stayed home.”

“[shrug] Me too. I didn’t have a choice personally. I had to come. We all had to come!”

“This is just- Whoa! Hey, LOOK OUT!”

~~~

“Yuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just stepped on a worm and smeared him all over my shoes! Almost slipped to my death. Now I have worm guts on my shoes.”

“Ah...”

“Stupid things! This is disgusting! I hate how they’re all over the sidewalks after a rain! I mean just look!

“I know...”

“The pavement is practically swimming in earthworms and earthworm insides! It makes me sick. Why are they out?”

“Well when it rains-”

“It's like a foul invertebrates parade!”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

“It’s revolting.”

“I'm sorry. It’s just what they do.”

The Party

“Alright everybody, five minutes to game time! We got it all! Forty-two inch high definition plasma screen!"

"WOO!!"

"Hot wings, chips, dip, drinks, and sausages!"

"WOO!!"

"And this year, no Melvin! The only thing were missing are four hot deep dish pizzas that should be here any minute!”

[bing bong]

“And there they are. I’ll be right back.”

~~~

“Hey you’re late! Do I get an discount or something?”

“I’m sorry I had a little trouble figuring out where the party was...”

“Melvin!”

“Happy to see me?”

“How did you...?”

“At a loss for words I see?"

"Melvin...You weren't suppose.."

"Don’t worry I always know what to say! I have also been thinking a lot about super bowl extra large. For instance-”

"Super bowl what?"

"Super bowl, extra large! I've been working on my game lingo!"

“Forty. Last year was super bowl forty. This year is forty-one. XL and XLI are Roman numerals. It’s a football tradition to use them instead of regular numbers.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know! Who cares? Maybe they thought it added a bit more dignity to it or something. I really don’t have a clue.”

“Anyway so last year we had that long conversation about half-backs...”

"I recall."

"Really?"

“Yes, in fact I have thought about it quite a bit in the last year. That conversation lasted right through the 43-yard fourth-quarter touchdown pass that essentially secured the game.”

“Wow, I didn’t know our conversation meant that much to you. I’m glad to hear you still remember it.”

“Believe me Melvin, I’ll never forget it.”

“Anyway about half-backs...”

“Melvin, Wait."

"Yes?"

"How did you know where the party was? No one called you, right?”

“A-ha! See! I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“You said ‘no one called’ and it just confirmed what I had already assumed.”

“[sigh] Which was what?”

“That it was a secret party. And that you wanted the guests to try and figure it out where it was on their own."

"Why would I do that?"

"That way you didn’t get any losers at your party. Like that bunch of mush-heads you had last year. Eat, yell, boo. How long can a person endure such company?”

“I was thinking the same thing actually...”

“So I went to your house and you weren’t there.”

“Right.”

“But your neighbor said something about how hard it was to get your TV in your car..."

"I need to have a chat with Ted..."

"...he then said you made three trips back home, and that each trip took approximately twenty five minutes."

"...a nice long chat..."

"...I then used my computer based mapping program to pinpoint each of your known friends houses and then I calculated which you could be making deliveries to in that time frame."

"Maybe we can go hunting together."

"First I tried Kevin's, and his wife must have been in on your game, because she tried to put me off the trail.

"Good ol' Laura."

"But I kept at it! I then tried Ralph's house and someone let the dogs loose on me. luckily I'm quite nimble and was able to escape with only my corduroy cuff as a casualty."

"...better luck next time Butler..."

"I then figured you must be at Doug's place, and well, here we are!"

“Indeed."

"I was quite a test of fortitude and cunning. I must give you credit for dreaming that up!"

"Yeah...Thanks. Well, I guess since you went through all that trouble, you should come inside and watch the game."

"Thank you!"

"Too bad the pizza guy hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Oh. I sent him away!”

“What! Why?”

“Four deep dish pizzas! That's just ridiculous to think, that anyone else would be able to find this party besides me! Especially with the sort of friends you keep!”

Resolution

“I resolve to write more letters this year. What about you Jared?”

“What are you doing?"

"It's my new years resolution, for the party. You need to fill yours out so we can get going."

"Okay. let me think. I resolve to grow a third eye!”

“What!?”

“A third eye... right in the center of my forehead! That’s my new years resolution this year.”

“...”

“Don't look at me like that Samantha.”

“Jared, don’t be stupid.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Try. First off you don’t need a third eye. Even if you did, you shouldn’t have it in the center of your forehead. It would serve you better in the back of you head. If you’re going to make idiotic resolutions they should be slightly sensible. Now, what is your real resolution.”

“I resolve to eat fewer peanut butter and pickle sandwiches!”

“That sounds simple enough.”

“I don’t want it to be easy. Okay...I resolve to be the first person in space...”

“Too late.”

“..dancing the polka.”

“Having a little trouble with your resolution this year?”

“To put it bluntly. Yes.”

"Sometimes its hard to identify parts of our lives that need improvement."

"Maybe that’s just it Samantha, maybe there’s nothing wrong with me. Maybe I can’t think of a resolution this year because I’m flawless. I don’t have anything left to change! I’ve done it! I’ve attained perfection!”

“Get off the table and write down your new years resolution! We're going to be late. It’s easy. Ahem, ‘I Jared, resolve to spend less time standing on the coffee table acting like an idiot.’ Now get down here and fill this out so we can go.”

“No really! Listen. Maybe I’ve done it. Maybe I’m perfect.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, I have a great job and I’m still in my twenties! That means I’m obviously very smart.”

“Or just plain lucky. I don't want to burst your bubble but you are the worst person at math I’ve ever met.”

“Maybe that’s normal for perfect people.”

"Jared..."

“Stay with me now. I’m in decent shape and hardly ever get sick”

“I admit you are mostly healthy but Jared, you do get sick.”

“I get stomachaches sometimes but that’s different. I mean like colds and flus and cancer and stuff. I mean, maybe I'm immune to viruses and things!”

“Jared. Are you telling me you don’t think you ever get colds? Why do all men think they never get sick? Is it some universal delusion of your sex?"

“I have natural charisma.."

"Hello! ALL MEN GET SICK! Plus you are also the biggest babies about it! It's always, ‘My head hurts!’ ‘My throat is sore!’ ‘I can't stop vomiting!’"

"...I have good looks..."

"On the other hand, men will drive a nail through their finger and just wrap it in duct tape! I don’t get it.”

“... and of course charm.”

“Additionally you’re also a good listener.”

“I heard you. Listen, I’m having an epiphany here."

"Jared..."

"Stand back and bask in my glow."

“Jared..."

"Turn your eyes and gaze on perfection!”

"Jared!"

"Yes?"

"I’m sorry to break it to you but you're not perfect. You have poor eyesight, you're slightly bowlegged and you’re too short to be perfect.”

“What! What do you mean I'm too short?”

“It’s nothing bad. It’s just when I think of the perfect man I picture him as least as tall as me. Thats all.”

“Wow. That's nice. I had no idea you thought of me as short. I'm five eight. That's pretty average I'd say. I mean you're five foot ten. Maybe you’re just too tall!”

“Its not important, I’m just saying, you are not perfect.”

“Fine. The giantess has spoken.”

“Whatever. Hey midget, do you have a new years resolution yet?”

“I resolve to grow taller this year!”

“Good. Write it down! Let’s get going.”

Of Nog and Gaw

“So what do you think Gaw?”

“About what Nog?”

“About me being a banker?”

“I still don’t understand, what’s wrong with what you’ve got? Don’t you like being a caveman?”

“Well...no. It’s just not for me. I’m not good at hitting things with my club and the women laugh when I try to go and forage with them. I was thinking I could be a banker.”

“What’s a banker?”

“Okay, see! Your interested! I knew you would be. ...So you give me all your sheep, and I’ll keep them for you. And I’ll keep Maugs, Ughs, Kugs and well, everyones sheep. Then I’ll give you a portion of any dividends that payoff.”

“What’s a dividend?”

“Little sheep.”

“Oh. Why wouldn’t I just keep my own sheep?”

“Okay, okay I got it! I’ll keep your sheep for six months and you can’t touch them. Then at the end of that time I’ll give you back all your sheep plus two more sheep! So, what do you think?”

“What am I suppose to eat, wear, or drink during this time?”

“...”

“Nog?”

“Or I could be a Carpenter!”

“You mean like Ugh? Yeah we could use another fixer around! Now your talking. Did you see him widen the opening to Huk’s cave the other day?”

“No, no no. Not like that! Ugh just hits things with his club. No, a carpenter builds things. Like stick houses!”

“What’s wrong with our caves?”

“I could build you a house out of sticks and you could put it anywhere you wanted!”

“Somewhere away from the shelter of the rock face? A place where the light from the sky strikes the ground and burns the tree trunks? Near by the saber tooth tigers, mammoths, and wolf packs. Somewhere the wind would blow out my fire? Why would I want that?”

“I could sell you insurance...”

“...(sigh) Nog...”

“No, listen! You just give me some sheep to hold, and if for some reason your stick house burned down, was blown away our you died, I build you another one. I’d keep the sheep if nothing ever happened. And the more treacherous place you put your stick house the more sheep you would need to give me. What do you think?”

“I don’t think you should be a carpenter, or sell insurance. How about you grab your club and we can continue to be cavemen. What do you say? Nog...What’s up with your leopard skin?”

“You noticed! It’s called a lapel! I added it yesterday...”

“Nog! Please! I don’t care what it’s for. I really don’t. Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk to you? I have to defend you constantly to the others. They all think your a crackpot, and that we should beat you over the head with our clubs till you start acting normal. I won’t even tell you what the witch doctor suggested. Why can’t you just be a caveman like everyone else?”

“Do you think anyone would give up sheep to see me ride a mammoth?”

“What?!”

“Yeah..We could build a ring out of rocks and I could ride the mammoths or maybe a saber tooth tiger! We would strap me to it and see how long I could hold on. What do you think?"

“Nog, I think I can say without exaggeration, that I can think of dozens of people who would give up sheep to see you ride a saber tooth tiger!”

And that is how the rodeo was born.