Thanks to Ed Kohler at The Deets. This lecture by Mary Roach, author of Stiff and Bonk, is ostensibly about orgasms, but about 11 minutes in, I think we get a clue about the origins of H1N1 in humans.
Here comes the sun!
Finally, sunshine. I was beginning to think that I had somehow tripped up the weather patterns with my retirement new career adventure and put us into a permanent chilly monsoon. This turn of meteorological events gave me the impetus to start working on one of my primary Post-Dex goals, getting in shape.
One of these days I’ll post the whole sad story in detail, but the short background story is that, in 2007 I had my right knee, ravaged by a too long pick-up basketball career, replaced. A strep infection lead to a nightmarish sequence of complications that included 6 weeks with no knee at all, a broken hip and a total of five surgeries. Basically I was off my feet for most of six months. Not conducive to physical fitness. Continue reading Here comes the sun!
Doubtless
Updating today’s earlier post. I’ve been hired. I start next week. Do you think there’s time to get a hearing aid and pick up some shreddies?
Doubt
Maybe it’s the constant rain and gloom since I began my Post-Dex life. Maybe a former boss was right that I lack self confidence. Whatever the reason, nagging doubt has been creeping in. One of my freelance possibilities fizzled out last week, another lead hasn’t panned out. Did I do the right thing? I’m glad to be gone from Dex, because the job was killing me. Am I going to be able to bring in enough money to float the boat without finding another full time job? And if that becomes necessary, would I even be able to find one? But all of these I can chalk up to natural anxiety for a person in my position. I have some very specific doubts about my immediate future.
Remember the job at Caribou? I’m going in for an interview today. It sounds like it’s a mere formality and the manager wants to hire me. I’m still a little curious how she came to the conclusion I’d be a good hire. She says she’s talked to me enough, but I can’t remember much conversation other than “good morning” and “have a nice day,” and that’s usually at 6:50 am when I’m not exactly at my cheerful best, plus I’m the kind of person that, in a line of people waiting for service, tries to make the transaction as quick and simple as possible out of consideration for others. I try not to strike up any conversation with the person behind the counter, other than the occasional lame witticisms. Â I’m OK with that though, actually I’m kind of flattered, I never really thought anyone there even noticed me.
But over the weekend I started having some serious, specific doubts about being able to function as a barista. One, my knees. I’m not entirely sure I can be on my feet for even four hours. I figure that’s worth a try though, good shoes and maybe my knee braces might be enough support to keep the pain to a minimum.
Secondly, I can’t hear. Yesterday I went to get coffee at the store in my neighborhood, and the woman who gave me Beck’s drink asked me,”mghphf grgh gorfrth?” Â “I’m sorry.” “mghphf grahfuf hlmaf?” “excuse me?” “flemoof garfph mhlorfr?” “I’m sorry, my hearing is really bad.” “DO YOU NEED A CUP CARRIER?” “No thank you.” My hearing sucks and it even sucks more when there’s background noise, like in a busy coffee shop. A service worker can hardly demand that a customer, “SPEAK UP PLEASE!” This may be the motivation I need to get a hearing aid, but that won’t happen before I would start work. Plus that would mean I would lose my ongoing debate with Beck as to who’s more deaf and who should get a hearing aid first.
And thirdly, an most importantly, would I be able to stifle my outrageous flatulence behind the counter for four hours. They might have to take the “Breath” signs down? I don’t even think that the aroma of brewing coffee would overcome the stench that seeps out of me on occasion. Sometimes they’re such silent little puffs that I don’t even notice what I’ve done until the people around me are turning green and gasping for breath. And other times a sudden movement will rip one off that sounds like someone is kick starting a small bore motorcycle. This could have a chilling effect on retail business. Maybe I can get some of that fart absorbing underwear.
I am going to the interview today, I might bring up the hearing thing, but I don’t think I’ll discuss the gas issue. What to do, what to do?
Monday Monday
The fact that this is the first Monday of my post Dex life is significant because my lovely wife, Rebecca has had Mondays off for the last fifteen years. So it’s an extra day to spend with her and a extra chance to sleep in. The morning got off to a very Bob like start and continued to unwind from there. I was deep in REM sleep dreaming about, you guessed it, work. Barb and Laura and Feven were present and the office appeared to be chaotic, as if we were going through yet another move. The scenario involved a discussion of office supplies that were left out for the taking as people vacated their cubes. For some reason I was sorting through a stack of staplers. That’s when the phone rang. Not in the dream. Strangely I didn’t have that post nightmare sensation of “Oh, God, I’m so relieved that that was only a dream!” Continue reading Monday Monday
They must have been Yankee fans
Workers at an Arizona cryonics facility mutilated the frozen head of baseball legend Ted Williams – even using it for a bizarre batting practice, a new tell-all book claims.
via New York Daily News.
I…. uh….. wtf!!! Too sick for even me to make fun of.
Another sinister plot by the Fun Police
According to this article on Shrink Rap children who eat candies and chocolate every day are more likely to be violent as adults. Now that certainly explains a lot. It’s interesting that “Researchers from Cardiff University found that 69 per cent of the participants who were violent at the age of 34 had eaten sweets and chocolate nearly every day during childhood, compared to 42% who were non-violent.” The theory was that children who were given what they wanted on a daily basis never formed an appreciation for deferred gratification and therefore would resort to violence if there immediate wants were stifled.
I have another theory. Of course the a high percentage of kids who didn’t eat candy every day were non-violent. They were a bunch of ninnies and twits. In my memory of childhood, violence was hardly necessary to obtain a daily dose of Hershey’s. Not if one had an ounce if charm, guile or perseverance. I mean if you couldn’t pinpoint where Mom was hiding the stash of Mike ‘n’ Ikes within fifteen minutes of it’s being hidden, you were just plain off your kid game. And if you include cookies into the category of sweets, the survey becomes meaningless. Cripes, not being able to cadge at least one cookie with a glass of milk after school has got to be a predictor of total failure as an adult. Given the fact that a glass of milk and about a half a bag of Oreo’s was a daily ritual for me, I should be spending my golden years in San Quentin.
And what about that 42% of badasses that didn’t eat candy every day. They were just pissed off all the time. I wonder how many of their violent acts were perpetrated against their Moms. There is clearly a need for more research here. Did I mention that the study was done in England. How many of the participants were shipped off to boarding schools where they NEVER got any candy and grew up to be uptight civil servants and wore bowler hats and little, neatly trimmed moustaches? Answer that one. I’ve read Lord of Flies. “He began to dance and his laughter became a bloodthirsty snarling.” Tell me those nut bags had candy every day. In fact, we know they had NO CANDY. And how did that work out for Piggy?
My favorite candy brand, Squirrel Nut Zippers.
Show me some love!
It’s getting lonely out here, no comments but for the spambots. Don’t be afraid to leave a comment… please.
Change in the weather
After an incredible run of spectacular late summer and fall weather, my first day of retirement is remarkably dreary. It’s 5 pm and it looks like 10. I hope this isn’t an omen.
So how’s retirement so far? Well it’s wet. It’s been raining almost all day. I did demonstrate to Becky that there were benefits to having a retired spouse. I drove her the one block to the bus stop so she could stay dry while she waited for her bus. I think I might be winning her over to the idea, and I haven’t even done any laundry or cooked any fabulous meals yet. The meals thing is going to have to wait because she’s in the middle of a three day run of going out with her various women friends. To this I usually say, “I wish I had friends,” but that doesn’t work because I had lunch with my buds Steve and Lon today and tonight I’m meeting Mike for dinner and tomorrow, lunch with a musical buddy and former coworker who’s also gone off to entreprenuerate*. Ah the social round.
I did achieve one of my goals today. I got to be one of those guys that sits in coffee shops and surfs the net. Although that almost didn’t happen. The wi-fi was down at the coffee place and I couldn’t get on. I didn’t say anything because I thought I was just being the clueless old guy. Turns out the other three people were similarly unwilling to expose their ignorance.
But the real story of this trip to the coffee shop started yesterday morning as I headed into work. I stopped by for my daily dose of dark roast and ran into the woman who I assumed, correctly, was the manager. “You won’t be seeing much of me anymore, this is my last day at work.” She looked concerned before I reassured her I was retiring. Continue reading Change in the weather
Holy Shit….
Now what!