Sunday, March 21, 2010

2907 Mental Rambles

Sunday, March 21, 2010

"If the automobile had followed the same development cycle as the computer, a Rolls-Royce would today cost $100, get a million miles per gallon, and explode once a year, killing everyone inside."
-- Robert X. Cringely --

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I keep saying this journal is my diary. Today I accidentally rediscovered this post, from January 19, 2006: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2006/01/533-realization.html. If you haven't been following the blog that long, please go read it.

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The Boston photos today are of people trying to get into the Guinness book of records. Those things are getting ridiculous. Ok, it's kind of neat to know about the smallest or oldest person, or the biggest horse, or the fastest runner. But these days it's the biggest cream pie, or meatball, or number of people jumping up and down at the same time. That's stupid. "Oh, you got 300 exercise bikes into a room? Well, we'll get 302." Big deal. One photo shows bakers seaming regular-sized gingerbread bricks together with icing to make the biggest gingerbread cake. Big deal. Just take a week's output from a commercial bakery, and schmush them together.

One photo got me remembering something from long ago. It's a photo of a rubber band ball (I think he cheated because he didn't use regular rubber bands, and there's a lot of space built in), and it reminded me of when The Company banned rubber band balls. In the space of about a month, there had been three fires in desk drawers caused by rubber band balls. When they get very tight, and if there's a lot of "cheat" air space built in, the pressure causes spontaneous combustion in the center. They think there was something odd about the composition of the rubber bands purchased during that time period, too.

If you have an old rubber band ball lying around, take it apart some day. There's a good chance you'll find the core is melted and fused.

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Several thoughts from the tour bus trip yesterday:

I hate roadside rest areas with the toilets that automatically flush, especially when you're not finished yet, and it sprays your nether regions with who knows what.

I hate when the bus driver lets the only kid on the bus, a 9ish-year-old sitting in the front seat, choose the movies for the trip. We were treated to an Alvin and the Chipmunks movie, "Kung Fu Panda", and "Fat Albert". There were 21 paid adults on the bus, and that's what we get?

The fat kid was sitting in the front seat, his mother was behind him, and I was behind her, so I was treated to several hours of their exchanges. As we neared the destination, the two of them were pointing out to each other every fast food joint we passed - making notes of where they were, as if they might be forced to actually walk to them. All of them.

The mother frequently told the kid to do this, or not do that. Every single time, he asked "Why?", and every single time without exception she replied, "Because I said so." I consider that very poor parenting. At some point the kid is going to decide she's "not the boss of me", and rebel. And expecting obedience to "Because I said so" implies some kind of punishment for disobedience.

When Daughter was small I always explained why, in terms she could understand. Sometimes she'd come back with, "But what if I blah blah, would that make it ok?" If not, I'd explain why not. If so, I'd remind her that she really does have to blah blah. I think it led to a Daughter who listened, accepted my reasons, learned to negotiate, and ultimately was better able to make considered decisions for herself.

The guy sitting behind me was good looking, about my age, and I think he was dating the woman sitting in her own pair of seats across the aisle. He was an idiot. He complained constantly, most about riding on a bus. He'd ask the woman, "Do you have a gun?" "No, why?" "If you do, please shoot me." I got to hear that charming exchange four or five times. "If I ever suggest anything like this again, kill me." "Whatever made me think I'd enjoy this?" On and on. I was about to do the woman a favor and strangle him.

We passed two accidents that caused traffic jams. At the first accident, several voices on the bus rose to opine that it was some idiot on a cell phone. Guy behind me declared they were obviously texting. And also that no one in this state knows how to drive.

As we passed cars in the next lane over, I looked down. Slow. Barely moving. Seems reasonable that a lot of people were going to be delayed. I expected to see most people on a cell phone. I was very surprised that only about one in ten drivers was on the phone. In a few cases, the passenger was on the phone. I was marveling at that when the idiot behind me spoke up and observed to everyone that "Eight out of ten of the cars we're passing, the driver's on the phone!" Did he really think that no one else was looking out the window? I didn't say anything.

A little later we came upon the second accident. Same chorus of "Idiots texting!" I had to grit my teeth to avoid wondering loudly if there were ever any accidents before cell phones. I hate it when people jump to conclusions, cast aspersions, like that. Maybe someone got clipped by a car changing lanes. Maybe the steering whatsis broke. Maybe the driver had a heart attack. Get your heads out of your asses, please.

We were dropped at the aquarium at 11 am, and picked up at 2:30 to go to the seaport museum village, arriving at the ticket counter at 3, where we found out that the museum village closes at 4 pm. You can wander around until 5, but then you get chased out. There's nothing else nearby. The bus driver had said we'd be leaving at 6. Um, huh?

So at 5:30, everybody was sitting on the curb in the parking lot. The driver agreed we could leave early --- except --- four people had known about the closing time at the museum, and had elected to stay at the aquarium. It also closed earlyish, but there was a fancy strip mall with restaurants etc. next to the museum. They expected to be picked up at the aquarium at 6:30. So we all got on the bus, went to the closed and shuttered aquarium, and waited.

The guy behind me wailed, "The aquarium? We're at the aquarium again? Holy shit! Shoot me now!" (I wished I could.) "This is ridiculous! I'm already composing the letter I'm gonna write tonight!" And on and on. Finally I turned around and explained to him why we were waiting here. Believe it or not, it shut him up for a while. I guess it hadn't occurred to him that there might be a reason.

I think there may be a reason I'm not very social....

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Some of the cars I've been looking at have heated front seats, standard or as an option. I wrinkle my forehead at that. I don't really need heat there. That's not where the cold is, or, at least, not where it lingers long. It sounds like a nifty thing to brag about, but ultimately not so useful.

Now, massaging seats! That's something I could appreciate! Or chilled seats for the summer. That sounds a lot more useful.

The Jaguar has cooled seats. No convertibles, but chilled seats.

Cool.

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Note to women wearing straight skirts: When the skirt makes horizontal wrinkles at the top of your thighs, IT'S TOO TIGHT!!! It should hang smoothly, even when you walk.
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2 comments:

the queen said...

I think it's better to kill your love by trying to help than to let him live by neglect.

Chriz said...

Suffering is much more unbearable than death. I think all caregivers feel guilty following a death. "What if..." and so on. We must take heart in the fact that we did the best that we could in the moment. We sacrificed a part of us to ensure our loved one was as comfortable as possible while in our care. No one could have provided the level of comfort and care for Jay the way that you did. He is honored to have someone who loved and sacrificed so much for him. I'm sure he would tell you death was inevitable and love you profusely for being you, but that will have to wait until you perhaps meet again...