Source Jockey

Silly, short anecdote:  My brother was putting on a pair of socks, and one didn’t fit.  ”This must be yours,” he grumbled, as he handed it back to me.  I gave it back, and jested, “Gross, man, you just put it on!  You’ve got dirty feet.”  He laughed, “No, I just took a shower.”  I challenged, “Well, if your foot’s so clean, lick it.”  He did; I immediately said, “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I pee in the shower.  Who knows what [one of our other brothers] does in it!”  His facial expression was priceless.

After owning a basic Samsung phone for about six years, my mother finally wanted to get a new phone “with a Bluetooth”.  But she also wanted to check her email.  As you all well know, I’m a fan of Apple products, and suggested that she switch to AT&T to grab iPhones.  After all, it’s one of the easiest phones to use, and does everything she wants out of a phone, without being complex.

Well, Dad didn’t want to switch from Verizon.  So she asked for a Blackberry Storm, the antithesis to the iPhone.  With a “clickable touchscreen”, the Storm was touted to be an iPhone killer from the get-go.  Unfortunately, either due to patent issues, poor hardware or software engineering, or sheer arrogance, the Blackberry Storm is actually not a very good phone.  Yes, it works for what it does–but it doesn’t work well.  Transitions aren’t smooth, fast, or consistent.  The keyboard clicking is actually a hinderance, and tracking isn’t precise.  I actually became frustrated while using it, not because of its inherent complexity, but because it kept clicking in the wrong spot.

Anyway, my mother has been calling me almost constantly while trying to figure out how to use the phone.  ”How do I silence it?  What’s a profile? Why does the screen go dark after 30 seconds? How do I write and email? How do I send it?  How do I know it sent?  How do I change my ringer?  Can I go online?  I don’t understand this keyboard!”

Please, people, don’t buy something you’re not going to understand.  It makes OTHER peoples’ lives more difficult.

Wait, hurry up, wait, and hurry up.  That was my experience last night at Claim Jumpers in Monrovia.

I decided to call Claim Jumpers and make a reservation, as I don’t really like waiting around with a bunch of fat people to get my food.  After all, when I get hungry, my stomach growls a little.  When THEY get hungry, they eat whatever they see.  So when Alan and I got there at 8:30 last night, they made us wait anyway.  And there was some 450lb. guy eyeing me.  Maybe he thought I’d look good with an apple in my mouth, tied to the rotisserie.

After the wait (it was only a few minutes), the maître d’ showed us to our table.  On the way, she asked me if I knew her.  I looked at her name tag, then her, and said, “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize you.”  Expecting to get slapped, she instead said, “Oh–I know–you’ve been here before…  I asked you if you played basketball, and you asked if I played miniature golf.”  Yes, she definitely remembered me.  Too bad it was for the wrong reasons!

So we waited a while, and finally, our waiter came by.  Alan got soup & a sandwich, I got salad and a steak.  In the normal world, his soup and my salad would come at the same time.  Not last night.  Alan was DONE with his soup about 10 minutes before my salad arrived.  (I guess they had to uproot an entire lettuce patch for my salad.)  So I began eating my salad, wondering WHY it was so HUGE, when about 2 minutes later, our main courses arrive.

This is one of the few things about dining out that aggravate me.

When I’m out, at a restaurant, my goal is to dine.  But when I feel rushed (eg, my steak is getting cold while I finish my salad), it ruins the experience.  I realized something, though–bigger portions are training us to eat faster.  In conjunction with the training most of us get (“Finish your plate, there are kids starving in Japan/China/Afghanistan/Africa/South Pasadena”), we’re being trained to power down a meal ASAP so they can turn the table.  I’m convinced of it.

Maybe I should think this one through more, though.

Either way–the next time you go to a Claim Jumper, I want you to look at the chairs–the legs are like 4″ in diameter–like miniature trees.  I believe they are designed to hold at LEAST half a ton.  For obvious reasons…

People greet each other in a wide variety of ways; from nods to flying tackles.  One common form of greeting is a hug.

Most people know how to hug as a greeting.  They don’t usually last longer than a second or so, but how someone hugs conveys so much.  The normal, two arm hug works pretty well in most instances, and if they’re men, a pound on the back (as if to say, “hey, we’re not gay, and here’s proof; I’m beating the shit out of this guy”) shows the right amount of greeting.

But some people don’t know how to hug.  Sometimes, the hug will start out well, but it will go on too long.  Conversely, the hug can awkward; a one armed hug usually means “ok, I’ll hug you, but I don’t really want to,” or the dreaded shoulder-in-the-chest variation–as if to say, “I hate you, and I’ll make your solar plexus pay for it.”

Either way, it’s too bad that people can’t hug right–it can really screw up a moment.

Apparently I missed my chance.

Out of the blue, someone I chatted online with several years ago sent me an IM.  I reached into the back of my recollection, and yes, I remembered her.

So we chatted a bit, and after a few minutes, she told me she got married.  I congratulated her, and she proceed to tell me how wonderful marriage is.  And then, she says something…silly:  ”Adam do you want the truth?  Really? I would have given you a chance. We would have been a great match.”  Oh, thanks!  You’re the best…  How do you know I would have given you a chance???  Hmmm…

Just as a warning, this post is going to be more about me than usual.  So sorry in advance…  One of my best qualities is also one of my worst qualities–I’m extremely straightforward.  Sometimes it throws people–sometimes it’s refreshing.  Either way, sometimes I don’t have the best judgement as to whether or not to just keep my mouth shut.  Tonight was one of those nights…  Oh well.  Someday, I’ll learn.