Never Perfect Radio

Thing #96: National Public Radio is a liar.

It's true. Yesterday our local station reported that we would be getting eight to sixteen inches of snow this weekend. I despaired. I went back to the office at the end of the day and told Dan what I'd heard. He didn't believe me. He was smart. It turns out we will be getting no snow this weekend. I'm glad for that. Still, I'll feel pretty dumb when I go back to work Monday. Dang NPR.

Kiwifruit.

Taxes: "Just Say Hold"

Thing #95: There is something worse than being on hold . . . being on hold with the IRS.

It's true, I had to call the IRS recently. And when you have to call the IRS, you HAVE to call the IRS. So I called. Then I spent the next 20 minutes on hold listening to what Katherine suspected was "The Nutcracker Suite." I could not verify this. My favorite part though, what the pleasant, generic sounding voice which would chime in every so often and remind me that all associates were busy with other customers. Customers?! Seriously?

Don't get me wrong, I understand this is probably just a generic message, but it just seems a bit wrong. Having the IRS refer to me as their "customer" seemed akin to having the guy who just mugged me thank me for my business. Weird.

At this point I should say that I fear the tone of my posts have been getting more and more negative. Several months of winter will do that. So here's some positive stuff.

I'm going to see my family in Alabama at the end of next week. Woohoo! Also, my in-laws are letting us house sit for them this weekend. They have good cable. Woohoo! I also still love racquetball and am getting better at it. My favorite moment from last nights game was when Rob had me analyze what I did wrong when I missed. The second one, I swung at, or so I thought, but was nowhere near it. My analysis for what I did wrong? "I didn't hit the ball." Duh. At least it got a laugh. I love laughing. I'm going to go laugh with my wife now. Funny movie. Steve Carrell. Enjoy life. Say no to drugs (unless your doctor prescribes them.) This post is quickly devolving into chaos. I'm ending it now.

Kiwifruit

Will Someone Please Remove This Month From the Building

Thing #94: If March goes out like a lion, February has to be dragged away by security, kicking and screaming.

Every month has its theme, its motif, its, dare I say, personality. You know what I mean. July is the patriot, waving flags and testing us with its heat. May is the NHL playoff timme and someone's birthday is (just in case anyone forgot). And February is the month that, at least up here, clobbers us over the head with snow and then drops to below 0 temperatures to freeze us under an immovable floor of ice. Not a very friendly month. Then there's March.

March is normally the month that smiles warmly on us, thawing the snow and ice, so April showers can bring May flowers (and playoffs). March is benevolent, kind and friendly. Maybe that explains what has happened. See, when it came time March showed up, smiling and preparing its warmth, then BAM!!!! February clobbered March over the head declaring it would never give up, and cackling maniacally.

As you may know, we up here in the North Country had a rather sizable winter storm this past weekend. This explains why I spent an hour and a half shoveling to get the car loose so we could get to church Sunday. Then, another 30-45 minutes when we got home so I could get the car back in. I didn't mind. It was March. It would melt soon. Then I got up this morning. It was -10. No problem, it'll pass. Then I saw the weather today. Next weekend low 20's and 30's. I'm so glad we're going to Alabama.

Kiwifruit

Whilst Playing Racquetball . . .

Thing #93: I have good hand-eye coordination.

At least that's what Rob said . . . while beating me 15-3 at racquetball. It was a good time though. In between games he taught me some tips regarding where to stand, correct postures, and how not to slam into walls at high velocity. Also, I learned that concrete walls are hard. Really hard. So is the floor. After diving for the ball at one point, Rob congratulated me on getting the hit. I responded that I was too late and he agreed, but was apparently impressed with my willingness to sacrifice my body for the point. My body was not so impressed, as it has reminded me several times since.

After Rob left, I went to the exercise bike to wait for Katherine, who was grocery shopping. There's nothing like reading about the hotly contested Democratic race, whilst pedaling at an average speed of 17 MPH. There's a good reason there's nothing like this. Also, I like using the word, "whilst."

Afterwards, Katherine picked me up, and asked what we had talked about. The rest of the conversation went something like this.

Katherine: So what did you guys talk about.
Me: Racquetball. You know, proper stances, ect.
Katherine: Oh. You didn't talk about life and stuff?
Me (giving it thought): No, just racquetball.
Katherine: But, what about when you were volleying.
Me: We just volleyed. That's all.

Truth is, it's hard to discuss life and love and what-not in an echo chamber. Not that I'm against trying. It's just not what guys do I guess. Not like a hard and fast rule, just not really something we would think of. That's all for now. I'm lucky I haven't fallen asleep on the keyboard.

Kiwifruit.

Now, All I Need Is Some Milk

Thing #92: The best way to get instant name recognition in a group, is to bring cookies.

Katherine and I went a photo shoot today . . . As models. I have to admit it was a strange thing to get used to, responding when people said things like, "Models over there," or "You're one of the models, right?" A friend of our, Mabyn, who does photography in Syracuse was involved in a shoot with a bunch of photographers and we volunteered to help. In exchange we got two free meals and, eventually, a CD of pictures from the shoot.

Katherine thought it would be nice to bring cookies, which I volunteered to make. Thus, while we were all finishing a lunch of bowling alley pizza, it was announced that Phil had brought cookies. The rest of the day every so often someone would come up to me and say, "Hey, your Phil, right?" I would, for the most part, respond in the affirmative, which would be followed with some comment about the "good cookies." And they were good cookies. I'm so glad Katherine talked me out of making the oatmeal raisin.

At any rate, it was a good day, long, but good. Can't wait to see the pictures.

Kiwifruit

Directions, Por Favor

Thing #91: You can effectively Google directions from Barcelona, Spain to Oslo, Norway.

You cannot however get to Beijing, China. Darned Communist era information bans. It all started simply enough. I looked at some streets, got directions to and from pertinent places. Then, I just got curious. Also, I ate dinner on a cardboard box tonight. It was good.

Kiwifruit

Happy Leap Day!

Thing #90: No one really cares about Leap Day.

So, today is February 29th. This only comes once, like, every four years. Amazing. So, why are there no major celebrations, no festivals, no choirs singing. Well, I guess some choirs may have sung, but not in honor of the day.

Well, I care. So, in honor of 'Leap Day,' I'm have work tirelessly fabricating outlandish facts about the day. I would have used real facts, but I only know one (the odds of being born on said day are 1 in 14,000 or 1,400 I can't remember which), and I'd rather not go through the work of actually looking them up. Hey, if it works for the Times . . .

Here they are:

In 1983 the Senate passed a bill attempting to move the Presidential Inauguration to February 29. The House quickly squashed the bill pointing out that, as inauguration doesn't fall on a leap year, future presidents would have to wait over three years to be inaugurated, thus crippling the system.

In ancient Greece, being born on February 29th was considered a great blessing. Children born on this day were exempted from military service and given first choice in goats and Monopoly pieces.

In 1843, France officially declared that all people born on the 29th would be allowed to age every year regardless of whether or not thier birth date fell in it. French women everywhere protested.

There you have it. I'm going to go have a festival or something now.

Kiwifruit

File Under Procrastination

Thing #89: I can give my blog labels.

I guess I'm a bit of an organizational freak. I just love the though of all 89 and counting blog posts being neatly sorted by subject, ect. I promised myself I'd be off by 7:20. I haven't made it. Now, if only I could organize my real files this well.

Kiwifruit

P.S. Katherine, I am also getting the list of things you left me done. (Insert innocent smile here.)

Like An Aqueduct, Eh?

Thing #88 (YEAH LINDROS!!!!!): Before removing the LED from an FS-C5016 (This is a color printer) you must "sufficiently do let escape the static electricity which is electrified in the human body concerning the metal part and the like of the aqueduct faucet, after that do work.*" (sic . . . DUH!)

See, now it's funny running across something like that. It is not however funny running across something like that when you're trying desperately to get a job done without causing any problems. Then it's just terrifying. I think it means you have to ground yourself first. You gotta love poor translations.

Kiwifruit

*- Kyocera KM-5016 Service Manual (Rev. 1.4)


Just giving credit where credit is due.

Mr. Freeman, I Presume?

Thing #87: The barber cannot make me look like Morgan Freeman.

Sad, but true. I learned this after Katherine noticed a man who looked suspiciously like the actor walking out of Vinny's Clean Cuts. I commented that Vinny must be one good barber, and that's when Katherine explained that no matter how good a barber might be, there are certain obstacles which cannot be overcome.

It also made me think, "What if it had been Morgan Freeman?" Granted I have no idea what he would be doing in Northern New York, but I would've been cool. Or not. I mean, in theory I think it would be cool to meet someone famous, and I do enjoy Freeman's work, but, seriously, what would be the point? I would probably just act the same as if I met anyone else I don't know. I'd say hello and introduce myself, stand there awkwardly, and then slip away and go find someone I actually know. And, of course, ask him who his barber is.

Kiwifruit

Just Aim For the Wall

Thing #86: Racquetball is a great sport.

I have to admit, I've never known much about racquetball. Most I knew that it was play with a ball, a racket, and rich people. Then my wife discovered they have racquetball courts at our local YMCA, where we're members. Turns out, she has some history with the sport, so we tried it. I love it.

There are several reasons I love this sport. For starters, hitting the wall is a GOOD thing. If you hit the wall in any other sport it's a bad thing. Think basketball, baseball, stock car racing, bowling, darts . . . the list goes on. Now, hitting a tiny goal, or a series of pins, these are problematic for me. I can sure as heck hit a wall . . . most of the time anyway.

In addition to the great size of the target, you get a reward when you hit it. THWACK!!!!!! Yes, the sound of the ball smacking the wall is my great reward. Just for fun, I like to see how many walls/ceilings/floors I can hit it off . . . or I'm just too lazy to go after the ball.

Finally, practically the entire room is an echo chamber. This certainly made the instruction phase more interesting. By the time Katherine was on the fifth word, I could still here the first four. This is my excuse for having no idea how the game is played, other than hitting the wall with the ball. Maybe I'll look into that later. For now, I'll just aim for a wall . . . any wall.

Who's Bright Idea Was That?

The green lettering on this blog is too bright. I need to change that. I have no earthly idea, why I thought anyone would or could read that. This blog is dead . . . well . . . mostly dead at least. Fortunately I know CPR. Unfortunately, I don't really have time for that now.

I'm going to sleep. Maybe I'll post again. Maybe not. Maybe the world will implode tonight. This last possibility is extremely remote. Did I mention I'm going to sleep.

A Little Light Reading

Every journey begins with a step. Like this one:

The night was dark, and seared forever in Ian Elliot's mind. What had started as a beautiful evening with friends erupted into chaos and tragedy, as men, women and children rushed to escape Silent Mountain, the lavish estate of Chester Winfield.Three years later, life has returned to normal . . . or has it?

Strange new abilities and recurring visions slowly draw these same people back to Silent Mountain, in search of answers. But, the place that once brought them together threatens to divide them again as fear and paranoia set it in. Will life ever be the same for those changed by Silent Mountain?

I'm writing a novel on another blog. Check it out here ----> http://silentmountain.blogspot.com

Flaming Kiwifruit

The Coca-Cola Currency Exchange

Coke machines are more than just blatent commercialistic attempts to get our cold cash for a cold drink. They are also magical boxes of transformation for change.

I was going to do my laundry today. I dug through my change jar, sorting through loads of useless nickels and dimes, desperately seeking quarters for this endevour. Two loads, at $1 for washing and another for drying comes to 16 quarters total. I had nine.

So, I went and started washing with the 8 quarters I did have and plotted my next move. I would go down to the cafe in one corner of campus and take out some cash as I had none. Then I would go to the other corner of campus and turn that cash into change at Environmental Services, the location of the only coin changer on campus.

Now, granted, this all hinged upon the assumption that the coin changer was operational, which is a very big assumption. It never seems to be operational, when I need it. I've heard rumors that at times it does work, but they are as of yet unconfirmed.

The final leg of my journey would bring me back to the laundry room at the other corner of campus. So, I entered my room, grabbed my wallet and keys, and headed out, locking the door behind me. That's when I saw Ian, my roommate.

Ian, you see, always has loads of change in his drawer, so, I asked him if I could borrow some and give him cash in a little bit. He kindly obliged, but was low on change for a change. I told him I'd be fine but he insisted.

So, he gave me the last of his quarters and two dimes and a nickel.

"Just put these in the Coke machine and press the coin return," he said, "It'll give you back a quarter."

"Really?" I replied.

"Yeah, but don't use the Pepsi machine. It doesn't work. Confounded new-fangled technology."

I swiftly returned Ian's change and went back to the change jar. I counted out 8 sets of dimes and nickels, for good measure, and rushed down to the laundry room.

I arrived and shoved two dimes and nickel in. I pressed the coin return and like magic a quarter came out. I proceed with the rest of my change, transfixed with childlike awe on the process. It was amazing . . .

Flaming Kiwifruit.

This Is Why I Can Never Take Snowboarding Seriously

Just because a sport is in the Olympics, doesn't mean you have to take it seriously.

Take snowboarding. It may be part of the Olympics but here's why I can never take it seriously.

1. Competitors who get points for completing moves such as the McTwisty.

2. Sound bites such as, "Yeah, the gold medal it's like heavy . . . Like, winning it . . . I mean, like, physically."

3. And finally, the gold medalist . . . The Flying Tomato!

I rest my case.

This Changes Things

Life is very unexpected. And I do mean very unexpected. In a good way.

In case anyone doesn't know I've recently entered a relationship with a beautiful, vibrant young woman (Oprahesque, I know). This was unexepected enough in itself. More unexpected is that this particular young woman, Katherine Widrick, lives in Upstate NY. I currently attend college in Florida.

And it gets crazier. You see, I've never met Katherine in person. She was friends with my cousin and we met through his message boards. Tomorrow is her birthday, and so I thought I would post and let everyone know that I'm in love with this girl.

Makes me understand this song better.

All things considered
We're both, certifiably insane
And I don't miss my mind

I don't miss the driving
And I'm always driving in my mind
And wearing out the road that gets me there

I may never find the sleep
I've lost all feeling in my hands and
Feet may touch the ground but
My mind's somewhere north of here

Happy Birthday Katherine!

Chicken Heads and Other Items

Severed chicken heads can be cute. Just trust me on that one.

I'm back at college, which means writing reports. Which means I don't like typing anymore. That's not true.

Anyway, since I've been here I've written a report, cleaned up on the "Weather" category on Jeopardy, implemented my "5-Color Diet," and done a lot of other things that I can't remember because of the cold/cold medicine.

And, just for the record, this Monday . . . VENGANCE WILL BE MINE!!!!! AND DAVID'S!!!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! (Let's just say, it involves a certain board game known as Risk.)

Flaming Kiwifruit.

Living Up to the Name

There's a reason they call them "Exhaustive Concordances." Try lugging one around for a while. Oh, well, it gets the job done.

Flaming Kiwifruit.

You Will Be Assimilated

Sometimes, you just have to take matters into your own hands. Yes, freind there are times you must look in the mirror, and after admiring your good looks for a while, point at yourself and say, "It's up to you!"

I had one such moment. I have to do something. "About what," you say. World hunger? World Peace? Obnoxious TV personalities? No. None of the above. All are noble causes, which I would love to help with. Rather I am going to solve the problem of the dying forum.

You see, looking back on the glory days of the Djere forums, I remeber times when you would log on and there would be far too much activity for one to keep track. All of it led to mass amusement. Sort of an "I amuse you, you amuse me" deal. Now, I go on and get excited if there are 4 live threads. I revive threads. I start new ones. Everything dies.

So, I have decided what the forums need is an infusion of fresh blood. And, where will I get this blood? The blood bank! No, what I need is figuritive blood, and, sadly, there's a shortage of that at the blood bank.

No, that new blood is you! Yes, you. No, stop pointing at the person next to you. I'm talking to you.

Here's all you have to do.

1. Click Here

Wait, no! First, read the rest of the instructions.

2. Read. I can suggest some good points.
3. Sign up.

You don't even have to post, ever! There are plenty of people who have never posted. The key is you'll have the account in case you ever do want to post. Now, wouldn't you say that's worth it.

Flaming Kiwifruit.

Contractions: They're Dangerous

Words are tricky. They are dangerous little things that just try to get you in trouble. For instance, I'm writing this script the other day and I want a character to say, "Who are you?" Well, logically, this would be the perfect place for a contraction. They are = They're. We are = We're. Who are = . . . Well, you see the problem. Okay, maybe you don't. Just finish the equation on your own. Then delete it before anybody walks by and sees it. Don't want anyone getting the wrong idea, you know.

And contractions aren't the only offenders. Take the word "assistant." A perfectly innocuous, innocent-looking word, if taken on its own. Then, you try to abbreviate it, and WHAM! You hit a wall. This is why you don't abbreviate while your driving. Current reports suggest that if the current "Abbreviation Driving" trend continues, there will still be no reports of such an accident, but you can never be to careful.

No, no, a more common problem when abbreviating "assistant" is the "three-letter problem." You see, the easiest way to abbreviate a word is to grab the first three letters. Colonel = Col. December = Dec. May = May. Ralph Nader, President in Exile = Ral. Assistant = . . . Again, you get the point. Again, if you don't do what I said before. Clearly this will not work as a viable option. Unless of course your assistant has displeased you and you wish to wreak vengeance upon him or her <----- (See Borghy, I'm not a sexist jerk. I'm learning!) in a subtle, yet not so subtle way. I wouldn't suggest this.

Also, gender relative terms can be troublesome. I'm not refering to aunt/uncle, mom/pop, Sonny/Cher, fishherder/fishherdress type words. Nope, this is about his and hers or him and her or he and she, well, you get the point. The man problem is that the English language has not gender nuetral pronoun. Well, there's it, but use of it in regards to a human being tend to be somewhat offensive to the target. Trust me, I know.

So, thanks to this oversight, by the crafters of the English language, poor innocent males, completely oblivious to the complexities of gender relations in our modern world, say phrases such as, "If you have an employee who won't work, you should discipline him." When the correct phrase should be, "If you have an employee who won't work, you should pummel him mercilessly with frozen peacocks."

No, no, that not right. I in no way condone violence with or against frozen poultry. The correct phrase would be, "If you have an employee who won't work, you should discipline him or her." The poor, unwitting men, who say such phrases, are then pummel with frozen peacocks, by all of the women, and more "sensitive" men in the room. (No there is not a story in this, and if there were I would not tell you about. It's just a coincidence that I get all jumpy when I walk through the poultry department when I walk through the grocery store.)

Well, as Mark said in the most recent script I wrote:

Look, I ain't wanna hurt ya' . . . Well, maybe I did, but I ain't gonna,
now. So, just come on out and I'll be all nice.

Actually, that has nothing to do with anything, but I just loved the line. Talk about grammar infractions. Somebody, get that guy a dictionary, for crying out loud! I'm tired. I had to write this twice because my finger slipped and I delete this whole post the first time. Good night, or morning, or whatever it is when you read this.

Flaming Kiwifruit