The Exploits of a TurboGeek!

Hey,

So a bunch of guys from work and I went out last night.  This is becoming something of a ritual, which is alright I guess.  It gets me out of the apartment and I get to meet people and create life stories.  I generally walk downtown when I go, since I don’t want to leave my car downtown overnight or drive drunk (or moderate myself, I guess).  Last night, it was raining like heck, so I thanked myself for remembering to ask for a business card from the last Taxi that drove me home.  I called the cab who whisked me to the bars.

I pulled up, on the walkplatz, as my sodden compatriots were walking in the door as well, grumbling at the jerk who’s cab just drove on the sidewalk to deposit a passenger at the bar.  Then I got out and received a slightly resentful hero’s welcome.  Geek point one:  Tell the cab where you want to go, if he can, he’ll drive there.  My friends gave their cabbie a cross street, and had to walk about 2 blocks in the rain.

Overall, the night was uneventful.  The two funniest points happened in rapid succession, and were both my fault.  First, there was a cute girl sitting by me, trying to signal the server.  So, in an attempt to help her out, I took out my keys and blew my emergency whistle.  Wait, no, that didn’t happen.

Everyone appeared confused when I dug my keys out of my pocket, and reaffirmed to the cute girl that she wanted the server.  Then I flashed my LED flashlight twice to get the server’s attention, and she came over.  All of the cool dudes with me sadly shook their heads at my blatant geekiness.  I still counted it as a victory, as I had come to the aid of a damsel in distress, and I’m all about that.

Then the cute girl turned to me, and flashed me!!! (with her keychain flashlight!)  A cute girl was talking to me because I am a geek!  So of course we had to compare lights…  Hers is blue, mine is white…  Both are LED.  Of course, once we’re comparing LED’s, I had to whip out my laser.  What proper geek doesn’t have one?  And thus, this geek made the jump to turbo; everyone was impressed and the laser was a hit.

Of course, I really didn’t have much to say after the laser, so the conversation faltered and brought about the second funny event.  After a short silence, and a bit of cajoling by my friends, I attempted to resume the conversation with the cute girl…  In the intervening time between when the conversation died, and when I tried to resurrect it (mouth to mouth, baby!) the cute girl’s boyfriend returned.  I know this, because as we were trying to understand why the cute girl has a castle (or the key to one) she realized the resolution could be made more quickly if we had a common language…  “My boyfriend speaks perfect English, he can explain.” she said.

Turns out that when she said “Castle” she meant “Farm”.  Common mistake I guess.  Anyway, I chatted with the both of them for quite some time, and they were very cool.   The rest of the night proceeded without incident, and I was at work bright-eyed and bushy-tailed early the next morning.  I hate this working every day crud.  Ciao!

Y’know,

I’ve said it more than once, I tend to have some really profound thoughts when I’m exercising.  I actually enjoy exercising purely for that experience, when I’m in my zone, not thinking about form, or pushing myself, or why I’m trying so hard to achieve a goal.  The point where the noise in my head quiets down, and I find a pure focus, where I am running, or more likely swimming, and my body takes care of the mechanics, and the drive, and my mind can slip into idle and wander about…

What I wanted to write about today, but forgot because I was singing my head off, was the pretty thing I saw.  As I ran up the overpass near my apartment, the sky was still turning bright blue as the sun rose.  There was a jet, flying past a waning crescent moon, leaving a twin contrail from its engines.  As the jet had recently turned, the contrails were slightly twisted at their origin, and the sun was just catching the remainder of the trail, turning it from a gentle orange to a bright, warm red.

It was just an eerily satisfying moment of quiet beauty and solitude.

Just a-walkin’ down the street…

SIngin’ Do wah DIddy DIddy DUM diDDY dee..

That’s me, this morning, running.  I went running, just about 2 miles, and with me went my mantra.  There she was…  I don’t know why that song is my mantra when I run.  I think it harkens back to the day when I used to run, and that was the same cadence my footfalls went.  Back before I blew out my knee, got old and put on weight.

After my knee surgery, it was a full year before I was able to try and run again, and at least 2 more until I could run something like a normal cadence that didn’t go step-CLOP step-CLOP the whole way down the track.

Nowadays, I can run about 2 miles without praying for a lightning strike to give me an excuse to stop running.  I think it is a bit disturbing that I just want an excuse to stop running.  No one is making me run but me, so I could stop whenever I wanted.  Even if I was mauled by a herd of rabid squirrel, odds are I’d just tell myself that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed (is that possible?) and that I should just gut it out and get home.  That is what I say when my breath gets ragged and my joints start to ache.  That is what I say when the stitch in my side becomes unbearable and I just want to walk if only for a few strides.

And… There she was, just a walkin’ down the street.

Only…  Unlike the age of 17, where I could keep up that pace/cadence for at least a mile, I prefer my stride to be a bit slower these days, and the song that seems to pop in my head as do wah diddies fade into my trail dust…

One-two Freddy’s Comin’ for you..

Three-Four better lock the door…

Five-Six grab your crucifix…

And so on.

Possibly more disturbing?  I know all the words to the Freddy song, and not all the ones to Do Wah Diddy.  Worse yet, until this morning it never once occured to me to make up new words to either song.  Thats like my favorite thing!

There I was just a runnin’ down the street,

stompin’ my heels and grittin’ my teeth

Man oh man I should have stayed a-sleep

’stead o’ stompin’ my heels and grittin’ my teeth

Whoa oa, I’d rather have stayed in bed..

And so on.  Anyway, off to work I go.

So,

My waschtrockner has decided to straighten up and fly right.  3 loads, all dried, and none terribly wrinkled.  And on the topic of ironing, lets get things straight.

Who here likes ironing?  Be honest.

I don’t.  I don’t like it one bit.  I also don’t particularly care for unwrinkled clothes.  I wouldn’t go out of my way to wrinkle clothes that were freshly pressed, but I also don’t have a burning desire (yuk yuk) to press clothes that are moderately wrinkled.  I like that fresh “I just rolled out of bed, baby, and I’m ready to roll right back in; just say the word.” look.  That’s my look.

You’ve all got that conformist “My Mom (dad, shitzu, etc) taught me not to wear wrinkly stuff, so I press my clothes.” look.

But consider this:  You never remember anyone as “That really well pressed chap (or dame).”

Everyone remembers me, I’m that rumpled guy.

Though, lets be honest.  That freakin’ waschtrockner wrinkles the hell out of my clothes, and I have been ironing them.  Though, I’m careful to do a poor job of it, so that I still have my pleasantly tousled look.  If that waschtrockner starts messing up again, straight back to the pound, and I’m getting me a conventional set of washer/dryer.  I can throw stuff into the dryer until it looks unwrinkled enough to pass for sleep wear, or at least until I get bored.

Speaking of sleepwear.  I need new pajamas.  Hard to find men’s PJ’s but there good to have.  Anyone have any favorites they’d like to recommend?

And on the final topic of hot (notice how I subtly snuck in the mental image of me in Pajamas in the “Hot Topics”?  You didn’t, did you?  Maybe you still don’t get it.  Me, in pajamas, that’s hot.)  Anyway, moving on from that parenthetical note…  My router power supply melted last night.   So, if my internet connection continues to be intermittant, you may conclude that perhaps the whole dang place burned down.

(The coroner will be forced to agree with your assessment that it was the router power supply started the blaze, since without pajamas, I’m not nearly hot enough to start a fire…)

Yeeow!

I’m tempted to write an anti-ironing post, but not just yet.  Just you wait…

Instead, here is a post of more geek musings.  I have a super cool shower curtain.  In fact, I have two super cool shower curtains, but this entry is about the one in my downstairs bathroom.  It was a gift, you see, from D#, Jim and Lee Anne, when they came to visit and it suits me perfectly.  It is a shower curtain of the periodic table of the elements.

Now here is a window into my geekdom…

I gaze admiringly at the Period Table, while I’m, ummm, using the bathroom, and here are the thoughts I always think…

“The atomic weights (averaged of course) of several of the elements coincide with the frequencies on the FM Radio Dial…  I wonder why, amongst all the lame call signs, and goofy associations, no radio stations appear to take advantage of that.”

“You could have WRhO, Rocking Rhodium on the air waves, dialed in at 102.9.”

“Silver sounds from those golden oldies, 107.1 KAgS.”

“You’re listening to WZrX, the hardest rock on the radio, Zirconium ROCKS!”

“Finally, even NPR could get into the mix with Strontium to the core, WSrO, we’re the reactive element in everything you dooooooo!”

Yep.  I’m a geek.