Er...

As many of you probably know, I'm the kind of guy that likes to understand things. I can't just accept as fact something that somebody tells me. For some people, it's enough to give them a cord and tell them to plug it into an outlet and their device will work. For me, I like to know every function that device has, how it's accessed, what functions can be done with it outside the scope of its intended purpose, and what problems may arise with its use. I also like to know how the electricity powering the device is being produced and how electricity itself powers things.

It was so much easier to be a kid and just believe that some things worked by magic. Now, this post has nothing to do with electricity, or with electronic devices. To be honest, I'm not sure why that first paragraph is there. Today's topic is "words". "Words."

Where do words come from? What do they really mean? Does their meaning change over time? Most people don't care, and for good reason: it's really boring stuff. Unfortunately, I can't help be think about them.

One class of words that has intrigued me recently is words that describe an action, but have evolved into a motionless word. Take the word "Movie", for example. We talk about movies a lot, we go to movies, we watch movies, we make movies (in some cases we make movies we wish we hadn't).

So what is a movie? I'll give you a hint: they pre-date "Talkies". That's right. They're called movies because they're pictures that move. Most everyone in the world probably knew that before they turned 27. Not me, though. To me, a movie was a movie just as a frog was a frog. That's just what it was.

I saw a sign today above a garbage can saying that "wrappers" belong in it. A wrapper. That's the stuff that's on candy and stuff. The stuff that "wraps" around something else. Is it odd that, at 32 years old, I'm just now starting to understand these things?

How about a "Shutter"? You know those things; they hang out on windows. Sure, most of them are decorative and no longer "shut" the way you'd think they would, but they're still there.

How did these words make it into our vocabulary? Seriously! Why aren't shutters called "openers" because they also open or movies called "Changies" because the picture changes?

But it brings up questions about how butter got its name. Was it originally made by goats butting their heads against a milk jug, or by some other less hygienic method?

Flowers? Did they used to be more liquid than they currently are?

Mister? Did men used to spray a lot when they talked? If so, I'm glad most of us have evolved out of that stage.

Number? Did people hate math so much that they felt it was numbing to their brains?

Sewer? Were the things that people used to sew really so bad that they were good for nothing but to be sent down the drain? Who knows.

Summer? I guess I enjoy counting how many summers I have left rather than how many winters, but is that really how the name came about?

I'm not offering any answers. I'm not even sure what my questions are. My point (if there is one) is that there are a lot of words that are really, really strange if you stop to look at them closely. Maybe it's best if we don't.

The Soundtrack to my Life

I just saw this on my brother Russell's blog and figured that with the crazy, eclectic mix of music I have that it would be a crime against posterity not to participate.

What you do is this:
1:Open iTunes, or other music library, put it on shuffle, press play
2:For every question type the name of the song that is playing
3:When you go to a new question push next (or skip)
4:Don't lie to pretend you are cool

The Questions are as follows (my answers are in these())

Opening Credits:(Big Time)
Waking Up:(The Show Must Go On)
First Day at School:(Savage Blue Sky)
Falling in Love:(Meet Virginia)
Fight Song:(I Am...I Said)
Breaking up:(Songbird)
Prom:(Us and Them)
Life's Ok:(You Ain't Goin' Nowhere)
Mental Breakdown:(The Icicle Melts)
Driving:(Another Picture to Burn)
Flashback:(Subliminal)
Getting Back together:(Crowdpleaser)
Wedding:(What Do You Want From Me)
Birth of Child:(Proof)
Final Battle:(Pretty Fly For a Rabbi)
Death Scene:(Napule Ca Se Ne Va)
Funeral song:(All This Time)
End Credits:(Shine On You Crazy Diamond)

Stamps

Hey, it's been a little while since I last posted. It's not that I don't have anything to say, it's that I don't have anything GOOD to say. Life is pretty mundane sometimes and I'm sure nobody wants to waste time reading about which shows I watched on TV or how many crossword puzzled I did, even if I did them really well.

The only really big thing going on with us right now is that Annie and I have made the transition from passive letterboxers to active letterboxers. No longer do we just go out and find boxes other people have planted; we now plant our own boxes.

We're starting out small, though. We started with two boxes in Ophir, one at each end of town. You can read the clue here. You can even go out and try to find the boxes if you ever find yourself near Ophir. It's a long drive, but the stamps are pretty cool.

Next on the list: a series of Great Salt Lake themed letterboxes. I hate to reveal my plans, but we're planning to put that sailboat (below) near the marina, the seagull by Black Rock (west of the marina) and the picture of the old Saltair Pavillion somewhere--I can't remember where, but it'll come to me.

We'll probably have to wait for the snow to melt, but we'll get them planted.

These pictures also include other stamps I've carved but haven't yet found a home for. If you've got any ideas where they could go, let me know. And, if you haven't at least looked into finding some letterboxes, you should check out www.AtlasQuest.com or www.letterboxing.org. You'll be glad you did. Or, as Lavar Burton used to say on Reading Rainbow, "Don't take my word for it." But, I don't have a bunch of literate kids here to tell you what you're missing, but the websites will explain things...

Homers...

They may not be able to get married, but at least Twizzlers has them covered!

Oh, Please Be Careful

I understand that they were probably saying that foreign objects going down the toilet would have a good chance of plugging things up and would have to be removed manually, but this sign really conjures up images of a toilet attached to the center of a 2x12 laid over the top of a giant open septic pit. I also picture toxic green bubbles percolating at the bottom of the pit and noxious fumes rising in plumes from the abyss. It seems to suggest that actually using the toilet would require Indiana Jones-like skills to avoid adding too much weight to the potty pending perilously above the poisonous pit.

Fortunately it was much less sinister than that. Maybe I shouldn't have flushed down that kid's shoe I found in the parking lot...

Hey Man!

Everybody has a "Hey Man", don't they? I would assume so. I have several "Hey Men". This is not to be confused with a "Hay Man": the kind of guys who are suited for very little else besides standing in a field scaring birds away.

No, a "Hey Man" (I promise to stop using " " after I define the term) is that guy at work or at school that you don't really know, but for some reason, at some point in the past, one or both of you started saying "Hey" every time you passed each other in the hall. Sometimes it's not a formal "Hey", but rather just a nod or a head "up-jerk", or, in rare instances, just a mouth click with an awkward half-wink.

You can't even remember when you started saying Hey to the guy. It may not even be a guy, though it usually is. If you have a "Hey Woman" (it's a different term), and you're single, that can be a good thing (if she's also single). You can eventually work that Hey into a Howzitgoing?, which, over time, can lead to a Youbuzytonight? If you have a "Hey Woman" and you're married, or she's married and you're single, it can lead to some very awkward silences if you're ever stuck in an elevator together.

Was it you that initiated the Hey, or was it the other guy? You don't know. He doesn't know. Neither of you have any idea. You may have occasionally said more than Hey; that doesn't automatically advance the Hey Man into an "Acquaintance". Of course, you try to avoid any conversation longer than Hey, but occasionally you find yourself walking the same direction as your Hey Man. Usually, you're able to remember something you forgot to do back the way you came and you can avoid extending the conversation past Hey.

Sometimes, though, when you're just not on your game, or the group of people you're walking with suddenly dissolves into the surrounding cubicles and you find yourself alone with your Hey Man, you have to extend the conversation to the next level, which usually involves mention of some local sports team, unusual weather phenomena, or, if you're really lucky, a big news story like a tsunami or a hurricane.

However the conversation progresses, though, at your next meeting you once again become "Hey People".

It's possible to have multiple Hey Men. In fact, in larger offices, it's pretty common. If you have a well-established routine, you get thrown out of your groove when any of your Hey Men are on vacation or out sick. If you expect to say Hey to your "before-lunch" Hey Man, it can really ruin your lunch if he's not there, returning from the break room, holding his warm smelly soup in his old tupperware container.

Sometimes, a Hey Man will be unfamiliar with the unwritten rules of Hey Men (they may be unliterate (think about it)). Sometimes a Hey Man will try to engage in conversation, especially on elevators and other places where office workers tend to settle. A good Hey Man will be respectful and stare at the floor indicator (in an elevator), the microwave readout (in a room with a microwave), or just at the ceiling (anywhere else, or if the microwave isn't being used).

Yep, good Hey Men are hard to find. And sometimes, even after you've found a good Hey Man, your good Hey Man will turn to the dark side and start trying to converse. Maybe a mutual friend will introduce you, or he'll just have a sudden attack of loneliness. Nobody truly knows what turns a good Hey Man bad. But the question remains: how do you behave around a good Hey Man gone bad?

Your first instinct might be to just ignore the unwanted conversation, and for some Hey Men this can be effective. For others, it may cause them to get all sorts of disgruntled, and they might think that YOU're the one being rude, not realizing that THEY're the one disregarding centuries of unwritten Hey Man Comportment. Some people just don't like admitting they're wrong.

Your second instinct (can you really have a second instinct? It seems to me it would be more appropriate to say "Your second conditioned response") might be to confront the Hey Man. This must be handled delicately, and most people lack the skill to be able to pull off this conversation. Most people find that, with their failure to properly execute #2 (referring to the instinct or conditioned response, you sicko), they have to jump straight to #3, described below.

The third option, and typically the only one left to you, is to drastically change your daily routine. It's hard, but it can be done. It's usually best to do it after a long vacation, or an extended holiday season (there's one coming up, if you need to execute this option). You may need to change your work hours--that's the easiest. Just start your day 30 minutes earlier and you'll be 30 minutes early for every Hey Man encounter you used to have.

If changing your work schedule isn't an option, you may need to change your lunch habits--mayb start going out for lunch, or staying in for lunch if you currently go out. Again, it's a big change and may not always be 100% effective. Maybe your former Hey Man will change his schedule, too, in an attempt to avoid you (especially if you unsuccessfully executed a #2 (again, referring to the instinct)).

If all else fails, you may just have to find another job. A disgruntled Hey Man isn't likely to follow you to a new company. It sometimes happens, but not often.

Hopefully, this little guide will help you keep good relationships with all of your Hey Men (or Women). Remember: there are always options if your Hey Man goes bad. But be aware that if your current Hey Men start changing their schedules, going out for lunch, and terminating their employment, maybe YOU are the bad Hey Man.

I'm back...

It's been a little while since I posted. It would be nice to be able to report about the crusie we took to the Caribbean last week, but, since we didn't take a cruise it would be hard to say much about it. In fact, I spent most of the week in bed trying to shake this cold. Still no luck, but I'm back at work anyway so I don't get too far behind.

While sick, though I managed to make it to the Aussie Pink Floyd concert Thursday night with some guys from my ward (imagine rocking out to Pink Floyd with your Bishop and Elders' Quorum President...) I'm not sure if it was the cold medicine I was on or just something in the air, but the show was excellent. If you don't know much about Pink Floyd, there are some songs to the right (and down a little bit) on my blog that you can listen to. It's not as good as being at the concert, but not bad.

In other news:

• My hearings for both today and tomorrow have been cancelled, which is good.
• I spent last Monday and Tuesday touring natural gas pipeline plants all over the state of Utah. It was interesting to see it all, but it was really good to be back home, too.
• I have to give a 15-30 minute presentation to all the county assessors in the state next week. Maybe I should start preparing for it...

Mmm

So this is what Annie's been doing while I'm at work...

Coincidence?

I'm not sure it was coincidence that this turned up on a bulletin board at work the same day Obama won the election...

Either way, I was relieved to see that they're just selling posters, not the originals.

Rome Temple

I'm pretty sure that if you didn't hear the conference announcement of the Temple in Rome, Italy, you've heard about it since then.

Well, through the miracle of the internet I can show you where it's going to be and what the site currently looks like. Unfortunately I can't tell you what it will look like when it's completed; you'll have to rely on your imagination for that.

Here's a screen-shot from Google Earth of the area:

The site is in the Northeast section of the city, just inside the Grande Raccordo Anulare (the ring road around Rome). The pushpin at the bottom of the screen is La Villa (the Mission Home).

The lot that the church owns is beautiful. There are many trees that I hope will be kept and incorporated into the finished product. Those tall trees in the background are Stone Pines, also called Umbrella Pines 'cause they look like giant umbrellas. They're all over the place in Italy, and really give the area a cool feel. The trees below the pines are Olive trees.

Apparently there's a small building on the site currently. I don't know what the plans are with it, but I imagine it'll probably be in the way.

Can't you just imagine a temple there?

Here's a close-up of the olive grove. My sources tell me the trees are protected and can't be removed--they can be moved, but can't be REmoved.

Annie and I both are excited to attend the dedication of the temple. It'll be great for the members over there to have a temple so close... and great for us to be able to attend the temple on our vacations over there.

Revisions

Annie mentioned to me last night that the 7 random things about me in the last post weren't the 7 things SHE would have listed. Here's her list:

1) I write computer programs for fun. Yes, it's true that I write them, but perhaps less true that I finish them. Of the 30 programs I've started, there are only 8 that I would call "finished". It's nice to be able to create something that obeys my rules without question. I can create entire worlds and set my own laws; if I want someone to be able to jump twice their height, that's okay. If I want space ships to be the size of planets, that's okay too.

2) I have a concealed carry permit. Yep, that's true too, but perhaps it's not quite accurate to say that I carry concealed firearms. There are certainly occasions where I'll strap on a 357 magnum--walking after dark is one of those occasions--but it's usually just too much of a hassle.

3) I have the exact same routine every morning. Really, though, who doesn't? I wake up, walk into the bathroom, take a shower, dry myself (being careful to use the correct areas of the towel for the correct parts of my body), get dressed, put on my shoes sitting on the couch, put my lunch together, and head out the door. Nothing too magical, but if anything gets in the way it can really throw me off.

4) I taught myself to play the guitar. Well, in reality I've taught myself to do most things that I do. I found out early on that it was easier to ignore the teacher and just teach myself the stuff from the book. The teachers in school just made it harder than it had to be. I've also taught myself a few languages, although with the limited opportunities I have to use them I've been losing a lot of my language abilities.

5) All my shirts have to face the same way in the closet. Am I really in the minority here? Doesn't everyone enjoy having their shirts face the same way? A shirt should be hung such that you can pull the hanger out with your right hand and have the shirt facing away from you. You can then grab the shirt by the left edge of the collar with your left and it's ready to be thrown on. You should be able to just count on that.

Not only that, with collared shirts you don't want the collars in the front to be smashing each other. It's bad enough that they have to touch at all.

6) I never push the snooze button (we had this discussion in the bedroom, which is why most of these refer to things there). I used to push snooze a lot, but realized that I wasn't feeling any more rested. Not only that, I was training my body to turn off the alarm without bothering to wake me up. It got to the point where I'd occasionally sleep right through an alarm. That just can't happen.

When my phone's alarm goes off (I use the phone because it doesn't lose the time when the power goes out, and because you can use whatever ringtone you want to wake you) I grab it, turn off the alarm, and hold it in my hand. There's a second alarm that goes off a couple minutes later to make sure I'm on my way. If I happen to fall back asleep, that next alarm (paired with the vibrate mode) wakes me up just fine.

7) I still remember a lot of item numbers from Costco, 3 years after I quit working there.

20 - Regular Coca Cola
44004 - Kirkland Tortilla Strips
419927 - Halloween costumes (maybe it's changed by now)
77666 - Iceberg Lettuce

I could go on, but I won't.

These Are a Few of My Randomest Things

I've been tagged. That takes on a slightly different meaning with it being deer hunting season and all, but maybe it's not all that different. Here the tag: "Share 7 random facts about yourself on your blog."

Now, I'm pretty sure I post random facts about myself on a regular basis, but I've probably never had 7 things in a single post. So here we go:

1) For a long time I thought I had a good false advertising case against M&Ms candy. They're supposed to melt in your mouth and not your hand, right? Well, my sticky 5-year-old hands would always turn colors whenever I held them. Somehow it took a really long time to eat them.

Fast forward 25 years. I finally decide to look into the feasibility of filing a lawsuit against M&Ms, complete with pictures of colored candy coating in the palm of my hands. And then I realized their loophole: the MILK CHOCOLATE melts in your mouth, not in your hands. I didn't have any milk chocolate on my hands. None. I was devastated. There went my multi-million dollar idea.

1a) This would probably qualify on its own, but I used to eat M&Ms (and sometimes Skittles) in order. But not just any order; it had to be a mirrored order. In other words, I had to eat (B)rown, (T)an, (R)ed, (Y)ellow, and reverse that to finish, eating (Y), (R), (T), then (B). Of course, if there were ever an odd number of M&Ms, they'd fit in the middle. If there was more than one color with an odd number I'd have to eat some quickly so that I could make the pattern correctly. This might be why M&Ms always melted in my hand.

1b) I still do this when I'm alone.

2) I love watching infomercials. At least some of them. I'd never consider buying anything, but it's usually some pretty good entertainment. They have those miracle blade knives that look pretty good, but I really have to hold a knife in my hand before I buy it. It has to have a certain feel to it. I prefer the knives that have the one-piece metal going clear to the back of the handle.

Ron Popiel always had some good commercials. The RonCo food dehydrator was one of my favorites. Of course, with every purchase you'd get the RonCo Dial-a-matic vegetable slicer, so it was a good deal. And you could be sure that you wouldn't be paying 99.99, or 89.99, or even 79.99. Would you believe it's not going to cost you 69.99? 59.99? It'll cost under $50 for sure! And you'll get two or three other things to go with it. You can't beat that.

3) I don't drive with my hands at 10 and 2. Now, with the proliferation of airbags (I'm specifically referring to the ones in cars) they recommend putting your hands at 8 and 4. The logic is that you'll be able to maintain control of the steering wheel if the airbag deploys. Chances are, though, there won't be much left to maintain control of; not to mention the fact that you'll have a giant airbag in your face and acidic powder floating around the car to deal with.

Nope, no 10-and-2-er am I. Nor am I a fan of the 8-and-4. I prefer 9. Not only is it easier to drive that way, it's easier to say, though people often don't put it in the context of driving unless you're on the subject. If I were to say "I keep my hand at 9" out of the blue, you'd wonder about me. Whereas if someone says, "I keep my hands at 10 and 2" everyone knows what they're talking about.

It's just so much easier to rest my left arm on the top of the door and grab the wheel with my left hand. That leaves my right hand free to manipulate the radio and air controls, or communicate with other drivers. It's much safer to drive "at 9".

4) I love pop-tarts (at this point I'm just looking around at my desk for ideas). They're pretty tasty. I've only ever toasted one, though, and that was enough to convince me they're better cold. You have to wait for them to cool down before you can eat them anyway.

Not only do I like them, I have a very specific way of eating them (you're surprised, I know). I like to eat each "tart" in three separate pieces. You'd think the easiest way to do that would be to just break it into 3 pieces in series: [][][]. You'd be wrong, though. It just doesn't break well that way, and you don't have an outer edge on the middle piece so it crumbles all over the place.

To effectively break a pop tart into three pieces you have to break off the first third: [][ ], and then break the remaining 2/3s in half the other way (I can't show that with brackets). That way each piece has a long-side of outer edge and they can each be eaten without any hassle.

4a) I don't waste time with fruit-based pop-tart varieties. The nutrition information is the same for "Cookie Dough" pop-tarts as it is with "Strawberry" poptarts. Why eat Strawberry when you can eat Cookie Dough for the same number of calories?

) I'll get to the really good stuff in a minute as a reward for anyone who actually reads all of this. (I probably won't; I'm just killing time while I think of something else). I'd like to take this opportunity to note that the tag doesn't say anything about "interesting facts", just "random facts".

5) I prefer to stay unaffiliated. Although politically I lean to the right I hesitate to affiliate myself with the Republican party. Even though I'm an advocate for 2nd amendment rights I've never seriously considered joining the NRA. I cheer for the Jazz because it's easy and convenient, not because I have any real emotional attachment to the team. There's not a single sports team, professional, college, or otherwise, that I care about so strongly that I'd get into an argument with someone over the team's performance.

Does this reveal a fear of committment? I doubt it; there are many important things to which I'm completely committed. Annie, for one. The Church, for another.

I think it's primarily a fear that, as time goes by, those other organizations may not continue to represent my views--whether it be my own views that change, or the policies and ideas of the organization. Maybe I'm afraid that, in affiliating myself with an organization, I would change my opinions to match theirs. Either way, I think I'm better off just trusting in the things I've already committed to and leaving the rest alone.

6) I'm too nice. I could really get some mileage out of using my size and overall "scary" appearance to intimidate people. I usually don't, though. Being taller and stronger than almost everybody else isn't my fault--I don't even work out.

There are times, though, when I think it would be fun to scare people; sort of like how twins can trade places without people knowing. Just, generally speaking, using an inherent, unique characteristic to achieve something most people are unable to do. Maybe I should work on making my voice louder...

7) Is this the last one? I would have been happy to just do five. Or four; #5 was pretty stupid too. My #7, I guess, is that I taught myself Morse Code. I love codes and ciphers and all of that stuff. Morse Code may seem to have outlived its usefulness, but you'd be surprised how often you see it, if you know it.

There are songs that have Morse code playing in the background; strategically placed dots and dashes in architecture; dots and dashes in all sorts of pop-culture places. It's a forgotten art--in fact, I've forgotten quite a bit of it myself... I should refresh my knowledge of it.

Hopefully this has been illuminating for my readers and all my stalkers. I refuse to tag anyone; mostly because almost everyone I know has previously been tagged, or is currently tagged, or will be tagged by someone else in the near future. The madness has to end somewhere--why does it always end with me?

Hey Kool-Aid!

I don't need to lose a LOT of weight, I just want to lose enough weight so that kids don't yell "Hey, Kool-Aid!" whenever I break through a wall. OH YEAH!

Aliens

If aliens are watching us, which species do you think they think is running the show down here--the dogs, or the people cleaning up after the dogs?

It wasn't in my head...

It was in my thumb.

Can you see the size of that thing sitting near the bottom joint of my thumb? (Not the bump near the top knuckle.) That thing, just short of 1/4 inch, has been embedded in my thumb for the last 2 months. My thumb has been swollen and sore since. Nobody believed me that there was a piece of wood in there, but Annie squoze (is that a word?) it out today. My thumb still hurts like you wouldn't believe, but now maybe it can heal.

Thanks for popping it out for me, Annie! TVBA.

Rocky Mountain Hi!

Or, more formally, Rocky Mountain Hello!

Greeting from Greeley. Just kidding, we're in Colorado Springs. I had to come out here to audit a couple pipelines and was able to fit Annie in my carry-on.

We flew into Denver on Sunday morning and got our rental car. Guess what kind of car they gave us? I'll give you a hint: it's in the picture below:

It's a Mitsubishi Eclipse. It's a little more sporty than you'd expect a state property tax auditor to be driving. And it seems a little small for a guy that's 6'5" and nearly 300lbs. It's okay, though, because the front seat slides back until it touches the beck seat. It's just really hard to get in and out.

On the plus side, it turns around really quick when you accidentally turn the wrong way on a one-way street.

We met up with Annie's sister, Liz, and her family. They drove in clear from Eagle (about 2 hrs away, for those of you playing at home) just to spend a few hours with us. It was great to see them and explore downtown Denver with them. I'd never considered Denver a tourist destination before, but there's a lot of neat stuff going on there.

Sunday night we made the drive down to Colorado Springs and found our hotel. It's not too bad; just off the freeway and pretty similar to every other hotel I've ever stayed at. They do have a good breakfast, though, and a nice exercise room. And most of the toilets work.

For Monday's dinner, we'd heard about this place called the "Salt Grass Steakhouse". It sounded good. Actually, it sounded like they served steak with rock salt and shredded grass on it. It turns out they don't. It was a pretty good steak, as seen below:

It was tasty, but still not as good as the Texas Roadhouse. I would put it #2 on my list of good steaks; above Sizzler, but far behind Texas Roadhouse. There are plenty of Texas Roadhouses around here, though, so we'll still get a good steak before we leave.

Anyway, things are going well here. We'll see you all Friday (if you happen to be somewhere near us that day after we get home...)

Eights

You'll all be happy to know that I'm changing the way I write the number 8.

That's right--you heard me. Growing up, I used to have some really pretty 8s. They were done in one fluid motion and had a cool edge to them. They were pretty exciting 8s, as far as 8s go.

Then something happened. I don't know what, so sorry if you were expecting a great traumatic story about how I could no longer write my 8s. I think it just got to the point where I could no longer read them. Of course, I couldn't read anything that I'd written. It's just that the 8s were worse than other letters.

So I decided it was time to change them back. Instead of writing an 8 like in the left up above (making two circles that sometimes didn't touch, and more often than not overlapped to the point that they looked like a bold 0) I now, once again, write my 8s like the one on the right. One fluid, beautiful motion.

I know I won't ever be perfect, but at least fixing my 8s is a step in the right direction, right?

Quotes

I know I usually post funny things (or things that I intend to be funny), but I've been in a serious mood lately and need to try to be serious for a while. While doing so, though, I intend to try to be funny.

Over the last couple weeks I've been working on a computer program. It's pretty simple. I love to do those Cryptograms like they have in the newspaper. I love to try to figure them out. And, I'd have to say that I'm getting pretty good.

The problem is that I don't have a pencil in my nightstand (I do them at night), and it's really hard to erase pen. Not that I ever really have to erase anything, but it would be nice to know I could if the need ever arose.

So, rather than try to find a pencil, I've decided to write a program that fills in the letters at your command; you don't need any style of writing implement--just your fingers. And, if you need to erase, you just hit the backspace and it erases everything for you. I've considered making a "pen" game mode and a "pencil" game mode, but I'm not sure it'd be worth the trouble.

Anyway, I told you that story to tell you this one:

In order to be able to make the program challenging, I needed quotes (the quote part of "Cryptoquote") that weren't already in my head. If I'm too familiar with the quotes it won't be much of a challenge at all. So I had to find a source of quotations. And, where do you go when you need information? The Internet!

I was hoping somebody out there would just have an excel spreadsheet set up the way I needed it, but I guess nobody got my e-mail. In the end, I had to copy and paste thousands of quotes (most of them in groups of 100 or more) and then write macros to go through and "massage" the data into a format I could use.

There are a lot of quotes; some good, some really stupid. I weeded out the stupid ones, too; and the ones that contradict my beliefs (it's my program, after all). While reading through them I noticed that many of the same quotations were attributed to more than one person, so I took out all the author names (hey, it's my program, I can do with it as I will). Besides, the author's names in the quote make it too easy to solve them (who doesn't know that "F.P. KLESP" is C.S. Lewis?)

The end result of going through all the quotations is that I read some that really spoke to me, and I would like to share some of them with you. I'm not saying they're good, just that they spoke to me:

• "In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." (that's not a plea for comments; it just made me realize that I often don't support my friends (and family) the way I should)
• "Try to learn something about everything and everything about something." (this has been my motto for as long as I can remember; I just haven't yet found the something to learn everything about)
• "The only difference between me and a madman is that I'm not mad." (some would argue this)
• "Talent does what it can; genius does what it must."
• "If you are going through hell, keep going."
• "The difference between 'involvement' and 'commitment' is like a ham-and-eggs breakfast: the chicken was 'involved'; the pig was 'committed'."
• "I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter." (He'll probably make me use the back door... and wipe my feet really good before coming in.)
• "If you can count your money, you don't have a billion dollars." (I'd like the opportunity to try to prove this one wrong)
• "The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good." (I broke up with many a girl when I saw how they treated servers at restaurants)
• "Education is a progressive discovery of our own ignorance." (If you graphed a line showing what I think I know, and a line showing what I actually know, they would have crossed about 10 years ago)
• "I have often regretted my speech, never my silence." (If I'm confused about something, chances are somebody else is. I like to let them ask the question and sit back pretending I knew the answer all along.)
• "If everything seems under control, you're just not going fast enough." (Isn't life better when you're just hanging on by the fingernails hoping to not get bucked off?)
• "Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names."
• "The graveyards are full of indispensable men." (which reminds me of the demotivational poster: "Just because you're necessary doesn't mean you're important.")
• "Always do right--this will gratify some and astonish the rest."
• "A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."
• "Better keep yourself clean and bright; you are the window through which you must see the world."
• "We learn from experience that men never learn anything from experience."
• "Every man I meet is in some way my superior." (Some peoples' greatest accomplishment is to serve as a warning to the rest of us)
• "Unless you try to do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow." (I guess maybe I could find something...)
• "Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect."
• "Every day I get up and look through the Forbes list of the richest people in America. If I'm not there, I go to work."
• "If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?"
• "When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before."
• "Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."
• "Success usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it." (My actual philosophy is to find the right place and wait around for the right time...)
• "Knowledge speaks, but wisdom listens."
• "I've had a wonderful time, but this wasn't it." (I really want to have the guts to say that sometime.)
• "In theory, there is no difference between theory and practice. But in practice, there is."
• "Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed."
• "The trouble ain't that there is too many fools, but that lightning ain't distributed right."
• "Never hold discussions with the monkey when the organ-grinder is in the room."
• Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm."
• "Where are we going? And why am I in this handbasket?"

Anyway. There were some good ones. I didn't even have to break out the Jack Handey (but you can be sure he'll be featured in the program when it's done). Let me know if you'd like a copy of the program when I finish it. Also, let me know any favorite quote you have that you want to be sure gets in the rotation.

The Sword of Justice

As Annie and I prepare for our trip to Italy (yeah, it's in a couple years; we can plan now, right?) I'm reminded of Italy in almost all that I see.

For example, this picture of the plunger in the restroom at work: Some clever person wrote "Sceptr of Power" on it with a Sharpie. Of course, they spelled "Sceptre" wrong, but the idea is still there; they're trying to show that wielding a plunger gives you power. How does this tie to Italy, you ask?

Well, it starts with a fundamental difference in toilet shape. In the USA we have toilets with a bowl that's, well, bowl-shaped. It Italy it's a little more complicated: their toilets are bowl shaped near the top, but then funnel down into a small hole (3" around or so). The water in a US toilet is substantial, covering most of the bottom of the bowl. Not so it Italy: the water is limited to that 3" round hole in the bottom, leaving you susceptible to "skidmarks".

(For the record, I don't know why there are waves in my toilet sketches. Maybe these toilets are on a boat?)

As you probably can't tell from my crude drawings, the US toilet lends itself well to a plunger--the water level is high enough that you can get a good seal around the plunger, allowing it to plunge. On the Italian toilets, however, you can plunge all day long without making anything move. That's where the Sword of Justice comes in.

The Sword of Justice was a crude device fashioned of a wire coat hanger, often quickly in times of need. The Sword of Justice had a handle made of the write being doubled over on itself a couple times, and a "business end" that was made from the end of the unraveled hanger that has the twisty bit at the end.

The Sword of Justice would be gripped by the handle and ... Well, it's probably not necessary to explain in detail. This post's already on the edge of being too crude (that's the third time I've used that word). Needless to say, if the wielder of the Sword of Justice fought a good fight the toilet would be be rendered useful once more.

I may not have made the connection: the Sceptre of Power reminded me of the Sword of Justice because they both serve the same general purpose, and because they both have cool names.

The corollary to this description of the Sword of Justice is that, given the Italian diet, a Sword of Justice is seldom necessary.

And, if you ever get tired of using either the Sceptre of Power or the Sword of Justice you can always just install some "Moon Boots" in your house:

Just watch your step.

Life's Been Good to Me So Far

I've recently realized that I've skated through life pretty well so far. That's not to say that I haven't had my share of minor troubles, irritations, and problems, but for the most part I've gotten off easy.

I don't want to jinx myself here (I really hope my desk is made of real wood) but I just wanted to take a minute to reflect on the problems I haven't had, especially since getting married (i have a hard time remembering anything before that...maybe things were so bad I'm repressing those memories?)

Our house is still standing, and is still very comfortable for us. I'd like to thank everyone again who helped us fix it up when we moved in. For anyone unfamiliar with the story, with the help of friends and family we were able to fix (and build) walls, retexture some of the walls, paint every square inch of the interior, remove and replace the carpet, and dozens of other things in under a week. We've continued to fix it up and it's really turning into a nice home.

Our vehicles are still running relatively well, and one is paid for. Annie's Malibu has about 130,000 miles on it, and still hasn't had any major problems (a water pump went bad last year, but that's about it). I know that repairs are on the horizon, but we've gotten over 2 payment-free years out of it. That's great. The Jeep's still running well, but it still sucks down gas like... well, about like you'd expect. It's fully insured, though. Are there any good cliffs in Tooele?

I have a job that I enjoy. And, on top of that, my bosses are glad to have me. How often does that happen? Sure, I'd leave if the right offer came along, but for now I enjoy it and have no complaints.

Even after all these years, I still get along with my family. From what I hear, that's pretty rare, especially considering how many of us there are. We still get together on a semi-regular basis and get along fine when we're all together. No complaints.

We have enough money to pay our bills, and even a little extra each month. Sure, I'm not able to engage in my expensive hobbies as often as I used to, but I'm okay with it. I'm sure that one day I'll have the means to make up for all the fun I didn't have now. If all I have to do to get ahead for the future is give up some golf and guns (not at the same time) it's probably worth it.

We have enough clothes to wear; we never even have to go around naked. Sometimes I will just for fun, though.

We've never been forced to miss a meal. Sure, we've skipped a meal or two here or there, but, generally speaking, we make enough to keep food on the table. Not only that, but both of us cook pretty well. No mac and cheese for us, no sir. Well, unless it's Farfalle with Pecorino Romano cheese. I guess that counts.

We haven't had to live out on the street. That's always a plus. And, unlike some people, we don't even have to sleep in a tent in our back yard, though we could if we chose to.

Our lawn's green. Whoever would have thought I could bring our lawn back from the dead and actually make it sort of look good? Not me.

I guess the thing I appreciate most is my wife, Annie. Even if I had all of this and more it wouldn't make up for not having her. It's so much easier to enjoy the simple joys of life when you have someone to share them with.

Pass

Well, it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be, but I'm still really glad I studied. There were 165 questions (5 more than they'd said) in two parts. The first part was 83 questions and I was allotted 3 hours for it. The second part was 82 questions, and I was allotted an additional 3 hours. In between the two sections I was allowed a 30 minute break (I could take longer than that but it would cut into my time).

After signing in, they took my picture, then informed me that every square inch of the testing room was covered by their dozen cameras at all times. Then they make me take everything out of my pockets--wallet, keys, cell phone (which had to be turned off), change, guitar picks, chapstick-- and remove my watch. The only things I was allowed to keep with me were my clothes, belt, shoes, wedding ring, and glasses. Next time I'll know which items to write the answers on (you can fit a lot of answers on a belt my size).

The first section was pretty tough. There were a lot of calculation questions, and there were very few questions that I instantly knew the answers to. Of the 83 questions, i was completely sure about 20 or so, somewhat sure about 40, and crossing my fingers on the other 23.

Since I'd only been in there an hour and 15 minutes when my break came up, I decided to just keep plugging away, and was surprised to find the second half much easier. There were about 30-40 that I was sure about, and reasonably sure about most of the rest. And, of course, by the time I got to the last 20 or so I was pretty sure I'd passed anyway so I didn't spend too much time worrying about them.

There were about 40 questions that I would not have known the answer to if I hadn't studied the weeks before, and I was really surprised at how well the things I studied matched up to the test.

I know there are a lot of people who have a hard time taking tests, so in a way I feel bad passing things so easily. However, just so you don't think I'm a total jerk about it, I produced a study guide while I was doing my studying that I plan to share with the other 8 guys that will be taking the test later this year. Maybe that study guide will be the difference between some of them passing or failing. See, I'm not a total arrogant jerk, am I?

Thanks for the thoughts and prayers. It was certainly more of a challenge than I'd anticipated. I'm just glad it's over.

Crammit

Well, as some of you know, and most probably don't, I'm taking my Appraisal Licensing Exam tomorrow morning. It should just be loads of fun.

Before you ask, yes I'll be licensed to appraise homes; and no, I won't appraise yours (not that I don't want to, just that it's an ethics violation. (That's not entirely true. I don't want to. But not because of you, just because I wouldn't even know where to start with a residential appraisal)).

I've spent the last 2 weeks studying pretty much all day for this test. Yes, that's officially more studying than I've ever done in my life. The difference is: I get paid to study for this test. And, if (when) I pass, they bump up my salary.

Before you start thinking that I've lost my test-taking abilities and I'm worried that I won't pass, I have to explain the situation: This test has absolutely nothing to do with what I do at work. Okay, "absolutely" nothing is a bit harsh; "virtually" nothing would be better.

The concepts are similar, but the actual execution is completely different.

But, regardless of similarities, I've been studying for a test for which I have no background. I have to retrain my mind to do things this other way, but just for a day.

Here's the breakdown of the test:

• I'm supposed to allow for 6 hours to take it. I'm predicting 3 1/2 (I want to finish by lunch time).


• There are 160 questions, 10 of which don't count (but, unfortunately, they don't tell you which ones).


• The test is done in two halves, each with 80 questions.


• I have to arrive 30 minutes early so they can train me to use the computer system that the test is done on. Are they serious? ("Hey man, what's this mousey thing with the buttons?)


• They tell me immediately upon completion if I pass, but will only give me my score if I fail. I'm half-tempted to try to fail just so I can get my score. I sort of see their point, though: you don't want to feel inferior to your co-workers if they scored higher than you. But, on the other hand, it would be nice to feel superior to your co-workers if you scored higher.


• I need to bring a financial calculator, one with funky buttons, but not too many buttons. If I show up with the wrong kind of calculator they confiscate it and hand me an abacus.


• They want two forms of picture ID. I hope they'll accept my Concealed Firearms Permit.


• I'm not allowed to bring any scratch paper with me, but they'll provide some for me when I get there. I was just planning to use my arm and a Sharpie, but I guess I'll use their paper. It's probably that recycled stuff that tears on every other word.

Hopefully I'll be able to pass the test; I'm a little more worried than I probably should be. How hard could a multiple choice test be? Especially when I only need 75% to pass! Back in my school days I could pull an 80% on tests for which I didn't even attend class.

But the stakes are high. Failing the test would cost me the price of the test and put my job in jeopardy (I'd have one more chance to take it). Plus, it'd be really embarassing to have to tell people that I scored less than 75% on a multiple choice test. At least I'd be able to get my score, though.

Life's Good

How can I complain with a beautiful wife and a prize-winning toilet to come home to every night?

Something New, Used, Borrowed, and Purple

Y'all (y'all. I am country) might like this. It's an ad made by the ImprovEverywhere people.

Elevator Music: Tanda @ Yahoo! Video

Rnodam Ttohguhs

Do crazy people know they're crazy?

This question came up while chatting with Annie last night. I've found that any conversation taking place after 11pm is automatically really deep or really silly, or a combination of the two. This was a silly question that was brought up from a serious discussion, and, after its initial silliness, I started to consider it more in depth and it changed from silly to deep.

The discussion that spawned this question was about one of my biggest fears, which is: what if I'm really not as intelligent as I think I am, and I'm too stupid to realize that I don't actually know anything?

It's like with little kids. They don't understand the sarcasm in your voice like a normal adult would, and assume that everything you say to them is serious. Seeing kids respond to adult conversation I've started going back through my childhood memories trying to pick out all those things that people told me that I just didn't understand.

Like when I made a "guitar" out of an old pencil box without a lid and a number of rubber bands. My parents said they liked the music I was playing. I doubt that now, but I was pretty proud of myself then for creating a new, aurally-pleasing musical instrument.

I don't blame anyone for humoring me when I was that age. The more I see people interact with their kids the more I realize it's a necessity. But it lends support to my argument that maybe I'm too stupid to know I'm not smart, or too crazy to realize I'm crazy.

So the question becomes: How can I know that I'm intelligent?

You'd say, "Well, you can know if you're intelligent if people tell you you're intelligent." And I'd say, "Yeah, but if I'm not smart enough to detect sarcasm or deceit, then how can I really trust what anyone says? Maybe they're humoring me the way I would humor a child." We both make pretty good arguments, and because I'm me, I'm going to side with myself and say that external input isn't reliable.

You'd probably counter with the argument, "You could examine your own thoughts and compare them with your own standard of intelligence." You'd probably word it differently, but however you word it, I'd respond like this: "What if my own standard of intelligence is limited, but I'm not smart enough to see the limits? Over 90% of people (I just made that up, but I wouldn't admit that in a debate) believe that they are of above average intelligence. Sorry to tell you, people, but 30% of you are wrong. What if I'm nearing the limits of my intellectual capacity? If I've learned 90% of everything I'll ever be capable of learning, I'd consider myself pretty smart. but, conversely, if I had a much higher capacity for learning, and had only learned 20% of what I could, I'd feel really stupid."

Again, point for me.

You'd then come up with a good question: "What about standardized tests? Aren't they good indicators of intelligence?"

"You make a good point," I'd say, "but whose standard are they testing? I could write a test that caters to my strengths and call it a 'standard'. Anyone taking the test would then have to conform to my way of thinking to score well on the test. Isn't that how all standardized tests are? And, really, who's writing these tests? If the people writing the tests aren't smarter than me, then how can they really test my intelligence?"

At that point you'd throw your hands in the air and say, "You're just crazy." At least that's what Annie did last night, and I don't blame her. I'm exasperating (this word reminds me of "Sasparilla" and makes me thirsty) enough in small doses. I can't imagine having to deal with me on a daily basis.

But, that leads me to my next topic, which is really the first topic (but it got hijacked by the rest of the conversation. Actually, it was just easier to find pictures of crazy people than it was to find pictures of stupid people. Well, I have a lot of pictures of stupid people, but I'd hate to post their pictures here, just in case they still believe they're in the 90%).

How would you possibly know if you're crazy?

I mean, if you're a werewolf you at least have some pretty good clues that you're changing form every full moon: dirt under your fingernails, scratch marks all over your house even though you don't own a pet, an irrestistible hankering for dog food, and having to shave 3 times a day.

But, for being crazy, there are no real symptoms. Well, there are plenty of symptoms, but it seems to me that, if you're acting a certain way, you're acting that way because it seems normal to you, so, by default, nothing you do would seem strange.

I guess you have to rely on people you trust to let you know if you're crazy or not. But that comes with its own set of problems: How do you know that people are actually trustworthy? What if it's in their own best interest to convince you you're crazy, or have you institutionalized (that's a fun word). I would imagine that if you're crazy, you're not really competent to make that kind of a determination.

So, I guess all you can really do is move forward through life hoping not to get locked up in an insane asylum. Although, maybe if you really were crazy, you'd have a lot more fun there than out in the real world. Sometimes I think I would.
Of course, you could go your whole life as mad as a hatter without ever being institutionalized.

Oh, if you're wondering about the title, there's research (some guy with too much time on his hands) that shows that the human brain can figure out what a word is if the first and last letters are correct and all the other letters are in there somewhere. It's actually pretty amazing how well your mind can pick up on things like that. Maybe my next post will all be written that way...

The Mastermind

As many of my long-time readers know, I'm an INTJ personality type (known both as "The Scientist" and "The Mastermind"). You can read my earlier synopsis of what that means by clicking here.

The bottom line is that the few INTJ's out there (less than 1% of the population) are very often misunderstood. I feel like I should join a support group or something.

Recently I've been reading up on some additional sources of information about INTJs and have found some great stuff. It fits me pretty well.

Here's a good snippet:

"Masterminds do not feel bound by established rules and procedures, and traditional authority does not impress them, nor do slogans or catchwords. Only ideas that make sense to them are adopted; those that don't, aren't, no matter who thought of them. Remember, their aim is always maximum efficiency."

Or there's this:

"Problem-solving is highly stimulating to Masterminds, who love responding to tangled systems that require careful sorting out. Ordinarily, they verbalize the positive and avoid comments of a negative nature; they are more interested in moving an organization forward than dwelling on mistakes of the past."

I even found a likely physical description of a Mastermind:

"Masterminds have a characteristic ascetic face. There are two reason for this. Firstly the facial structure itself is often reminiscent of ancient portraits because of its angularity and composition of the features, like cheekbone and eyebrow arcs. Secondly their facial expression is often accepted as emotionless and severe. Their face is usually pale or bloodless. Males often have a short haircut.


In many cases INTjs are slim. Their stomach is usually placed ahead of the chest giving them their characteristic posture. Their gait is somewhat unsure, wavering slightly. Sometimes it seems like they are not sure where they are going. This becomes more obvious in moments of excitement. Their clothes are not usually very striking. INTjs do not like to attract excessive attention to themselves and most of the time they stick to simple clothes, often wearing the same style and composition for a long time."

And some generalizations about diet:

"They are often indifferent to food and its presentation. It can be simple but must be fresh. When involved in something interesting they can completely forget that they need to eat. In everyday matters INTjs are modest and are happy to have a minimum degree of comfort."

Anyway, I guess this post is more for me than for anyone else. I need to reassure myself every now and then that there are other people out there like me, even if nobody understands me.

Of potential benefit to people who know me, I found a list of ways to deal with INTJ's:

1. Be willing to back up your statements with facts - or at least some pretty sound reasoning.


2. Don't expect them to respect you or your viewpoints just because you say so. INTJ respect must be earned.


3. Be willing to concede when you are wrong. The average INTJ respects the truth over being "right". Withdraw your erroneous comment and admit your mistake and they will see you as a very reasonable person. Stick to erroneous comments and they will think you are an irrational idiot and treat everything you say as being questionable.


4. Try not to be repetitive. It annoys them.


5. Do not feed them a line of bull.


6. Expect debate. INTJs like to tear ideas apart and prove their worthiness. They will even argue a point they don't actually support for the sake of argument.


7. Do not mistake the strength of your conviction with the strength of your argument. INTJs do not need to believe in a position to argue it or argue it well. Therefore, it will take more than fervor to sway them.


8. Do not be surprised at sarcasm.


9. Remember that INTJs believe in workable solutions. They are extremely open-minded to possibilities, but they will quickly discard any idea that is unfeasible. INTJ open-mindedness means that they are willing to have a go at an idea by trying to pull it apart. This horrifies people who expect oohs and ahhs and reverence. The ultimate INTJ insult to an idea is to ignore it, because that means it's not even interesting enough to deconstruct. This also means that they will not just accept any viewpoint that is presented to them. The bottom line is "Does it work?"
   
10. Do not expect INTJs to actually care about how you view them. They already know that they are arrogant with a morbid sense of humor. Telling them the obvious accomplishes nothing.

Which reminds me of one of my favorite deep thoughts: "A man doesn't automatically get my respect. He's got to get down in the dirt and beg for it."

PS - The pictures on the side are of other suspected INTJ's, not just random pictures I found. The first picture isn't suggesting that ALL the ghostbusters were INTJ's; it's just Dan Akroyd (I liked the Ghostbuster's picture better than the one of him just standing there).

Do you ever feel like Ensign Ricky?

What's My Name Again?

On my ride up in the elevator this morning (no, I didn't get a fritter... there weren't any left) I noticed a sign announcing the retirement of some lady that's worked her for 31 years. That's a long time. That didn't stand out to me nearly as much as her name, though: Marge.

Tell me honestly: does anyone reading this blog not instantly think of "Large Marge" when you hear the name Marge? I do.

And it got me thinking about how we make associations with names. I've met this woman before; in fact, I see her on a pretty regular basis. She's really nice, and not at all "large". But admit it, every one of you thought "Large Marge" when you saw the picture of her name (or you at least laughed when I mentioned it).

I've run into the same thing with my name, though maybe to a lesser degree. If I had a penny for every time someone, when hearing my name, has said "Hey Dan, Dan, the Maytag Man" I'd take those pennies and shove them down the next guy who says it's throat. Well, maybe not, but I'd certainly have a lot of pennies.

It's one of those things you just have to get used to. I'm pretty sure there isn't a single name out there that doesn't have some connotation, association, or rhyming taunt. I'm sure you can all list a half dozen things that people have called you.

Another name that comes up a lot for me is "Big Dan", though it's usually only applied to me when people meet me in person; not so much on the phone.

I don't mind being called Big Dan; it's a lot better than "Large Marge", anyway. There are more positive connotations with "Big" than there are with "Large". Plus, it's much more advantageous for a guy to be "Big" than for a girl to be "Large". As a result, "Big Dan" has always been fine with me.

Growing up, I was always "Daniel Boone" or "Dapper Dan" (which I didn't understand until the movie "O Brother Where Art Thou"). There were also rumors that I combed my hair with a wagon wheel and died with a toothache in my heel. I can't say I was ever a big fan of being called any derivative of my name, especially when I didn't understand the reference.

On the other hand, I always felt pretty good about having my own book in the Bible.

...But I didn't appreciate Elton John singing about me...

...And definitely have never, ever, enjoyed being called "Danny Boy", especially if it's done in song. I've listened, but have never heard the pipes calling me (oddly, though, I really like the song)...

...Never enjoyed answering to "Danielle" on the first day of school (on a related note, I always seemed to get a cold on the first day of school, making it hard to correct the teacher ("Just call me 'Dan'")...

...On the positive side, it's nice that there's a song about me ("Dan, I Wish I Was Your Lover") that wasn't sung by Elton John...

...It has come in handy for some personal slogans: "I'm Dan if I do and Dan if I don't" and "Well, I'll be Dan"...

Really, though, there's no name that would be immune from being associated with other things, both positive and negative. And, at the end of the day, I feel relieved to have the name that I do. Just--please--unless you see me wearing blue Maytag overalls, just stick to "Dan".

BO

It's lunchtime here and somebody just went and cooked a rubbermaid dish full of stinky, sweaty towels.

What? They didn't? That was actually some sort of food that they were planning to eat?

What? They're eating it?!

It really stinks in here, as it does every day around lunch time. The problem is that there's really no good lunch eating area. Well, yeah, I guess there's that big room downstairs with all the tables and the guy with the grill cooking things up. But, aside from that, it's just a lot easier for everyone to just eat at their own desk.

Which is fine. I fully support it. There's not enough room for everyone downstairs in that big room with all the tables anyway (in fact, I get pretty bent out of shape if there are so many people that I can't get my usual table). The problem is that all leftovers are not created equal.

Some people just don't know how to cook. And you can be sure that if the food wasn't good at its premiere, it's not going to be any better at its encore (the same goes for puking up said food). Some people just don't know how to cook, and their spouse is too polite to say anything. That's how the office ends up smelling like a chinese (nothing against the Chinese people, but the resultant odor typically smells more oriental than anything) locker room.

Good lunches can be bad too. There's nothing worse than being hungry and smelling barbecue sauce-drenched ribs when you're waiting for the hot water in your styrofoam cup to make your noodles pliable.

I've been pretty lucky. Annie's a great cook. She doesn't think that she is, but only because she's not here smelling the interesting concoctions that pass as food here. Were she to smell what I smell, and compare it to the aroma of her own creations, she'd readily agree that she's ready for her own TV show.

Whenever Annie doesn't cook and we don't have coupons at Arby's I whip up some pasta or a risotto. It usually comes out pretty good. If nothing else, it smells really good. However good my lunch leftovers are, though, I have to eat them downstairs away from the various smells around my desk. The odors permeating my cubicle change the taste of my food to such a degree that I have to continually watch the food to make sure it doesn't transform into the gym socks it smells like.

Which bring up another question: do people smell differently depending on what they eat?

When I first arrived in Italy I was startled by other missionaries' requests to sniff their arms and tell them what they smelled like. It was kinda creepy. Their theory was that I would be used to how Americans smelled and could therefore detect a change in odor in Americans who had long been exposed to an Italian diet.

The short answer is that I didn't detect any difference in smell in anyone. It's amazing, though, how much different everything smells over there, especially around lunch time. When we were out knocking doors we always knew when lunch time was coming up because we could smell pasta cooking. The streets were filled with the aroma of pasta cooking (it's a great smell, isn't it? It's as good as how rain smells, in my book).

I've heard unsubstantiated rumors that a diet high in garlic will actually scare off mosquitoes (or mosquitos?). I've never done a study of my own, and I'm too lazy too search the words "garlic repel mosquito" in google (on a related note, it's funny how rustic our vocabulary becomes when we do an internet search), but I believe that it's probably true, based on nothing but my own belief (or desire to believe?).

Back to the main point (which is really the subsidiary point), do people smell different based on what they eat? Probably, but only a dog would know for sure.

Recently, I read an article somewhere about how medical researchers are using odor to detect disease. The theory is that the gases and chemicals produced and expelled (not necessarily that kind of expelled) from the body, and in what proportion to each other, can diagnose some conditions. I guess they're already able to "sniff" someone's skin to determine if they have skin cancer. That sure sounds better than just hacking out bits of skin to test them.

This is a really long post, and it doesn't even say anything worthwhile, and I'm not even going to go to the trouble of putting in pictures or links (imagine that there's a picture of a "Cup'o'Noodles" up near the top, and maybe some Chinese athletes about halfway down). My point is this: don't bring a smelly lunch to work.

926

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 926 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

The real question is: How many of those people look just like me? I'd say at least 1.

Up and Down

Hello again. Sorry about that last post. That was me bordering on the very edges of sanity. While I was spinning away into a parallel universe, though, I caught a glimpse of something that needs to be discussed: Elevators.

I don't think we give elevators enough thought. Can you imagine life without elevators? Maybe in most places it doesn't make much of a difference, but in some places life would cease to exist without elevators; or at least people wouldn't go out as much.

A couple recent experiences have reminded me of just how creepy elevators can be sometimes. Today as I was returning from my fritter run, before I'd even pushed the elevator button, an elevator opened right in front of me--and nobody got off!

It's creepy to see an elevator just spontaneously open like that. Was there someone on it at the beginning of the ride, and they've met with a mysterious end during the ride? I didn't know, and because of that I was a little hesitant to get on. Then, when I did, and pushed the button, the elevator immediately closed its doors and it started moving.



That may not seem strange unless I tell you that usually after you push the button the elevator sits there until someone passes in front within arm's reach, then it starts to close its doors, just in time to let the person squeeze on. Then it'll wait again until someone else walks by. So, needless to say, to have an elevator immediately leap into action is pretty strange.

Then a couple weeks ago I was waiting for the elevator (probably also when coming back from a fritter run) and the elevator doors opened revealing a swirling blue fissure in the fabric of space and time. Okay, so it wasn't that bad, but the lights were all burned out.

I don't know what it is, but it's difficult to get in a dark elevator. It's like a Coke machine with a burned out light in the front; you know it's working because the little display on the dollar bill slot is lit up telling you how refreshing the product is, but you still hesitate to put your money in because something's just not right.

It's that same way on an elevator with no lights. It's not going to kill you. You won't end up in another dimension (let's hope). But, regardless, it's creepy.

It did, however, bring back some good memories of riding around in elevators in Italy. Over there the elevators were usually an afterthought, being stuck into whatever small space they had available. That meant that they were usually big enough for 3 italians or 1 1/2 americans. They're all about the size of phone booths, often with doors that open inward (and don't expect the doors to open for you; what do you think this is, America?) They're driven by lawnmover engines up on the roof and their speed is inversely proportional to the weight on board.

Most of the elevators smelled like urine (gangs over there don't spray paint to mark their territory... oh wait, they do that too). The only elevators that didn't smell like urine were the ones that required payment. It was only about 3 cents to ride them, but if you didn't have change you were out of luck.

My favorite elevators were in the government-subsidized housing outside of Napoli. The buildings were 14 floors tall and had 2 elevators - only one of which ever worked. More often than not the lights were burned out, the sensors were weak (so you had to jump up and down when you got to your floor to trigger the doors to open), and not only did it SMELL like urine, you could usually SEE the urine on the floor.

Good times.

My real point to this post is that elevators are kind of creepy sometimes, and often inefficient, but they sure save us a lot of climbing up and down stairs. Please share your own elevator horror stories, or just discuss how much you enjoy riding in elevators.