Ways Not To Look Cool

As you all know, I am an expert in how not to look cool. I've perfected such maneuvers as the casual nose-pick, tripping over nothing, and of course the "Gee I *hope* that's a coffee stain on his trousers."

It's rare that I see a fellow dork truly elevate the art form. When I do, it's pretty special.

Last week I saw a guy cruisin' on a Harley. It was one of those crazy ones with handlebars so high that you arrive at your destination with bugs in your armpit hair.

The poor guy had an itchy ankle. So he tried to scratch it with one hand while steering with the other. The result was a comedy of rapid "bike tip" "over-correct" "bike tip" "over-correct" wobbling that had him taking up multiple lanes of traffic with his two-wheeled vehicle.

It was a Wobbly Harley. I can just imagine him as the subject of a children's book... "The Little Wobbly Harley." It would fit on the shelf between "The Little Engine That Could" and "Dianetics".

It was a hilarious sight, but because he was a leather-clad tattoo'd bearded monster of man, I dared not laugh.

Instead, I'll just blog about him. And hope he doesn't find out.

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Business Plan

Lunch with Captain Silver Lining is always pretty wonderful. Recently a large group of us went out to lunch, and the good Captain shared his amazing business plan with us.

"Puppy Pile" sounds like something you
don't want to have to clean up

"I want to rent out space in the mall," he said, "and fill a room with kittens. There might be a second space as well that I'd fill with puppies. Because who wouldn't want to drop a few bucks and then go lay in a room with a bunch of puppies flopping around and cuddling them?"

We were all stunned at the brilliance and simplicity of it. "I have to admit, I would totally do that," I said. "I'd be walking around, 'I am a confident, logical, emotionally secure man who... PUPPIES!!!' Then I'd jump into the pile and never come out."

"The only flaw with my plan is what to do with them when they get older," Captain Silver Lining said. "I'd need a steady supply of kittens and some way to get rid of them when they age."

"You'd need a lot of Crazy Cat Ladies," P-Ziddy suggested.

"Pile of Kittens" would be an hysterical
name for a rock n' roll band

That sparked an idea in me. "Just get a sign-up sheet for all the Crazy Cat Ladies. They can volunteer to adopt your older cats."

There was general agreement with the wisdom of my plan. It was time to bust out the "little old lady" impersonation. In a warbly voice I said;

"I'm only interested once they develop arthritis."

Much laughter. M16 joined the fray. In his own warbly old-lady voice, he said;

"Do you have any with broken legs?"

I waved my hand around like a second-grader who knows the answer to the teacher's question.

"Oh! Oh! Dibs on the incontinent ones!"

Captain Silver Lining asked how much we'd had to drink before lunch. I swear, that glass only had tea in it. (hiccup!)

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Red Light

In the middle of a rambling office conversation, I learned something interesting about M16.

"I had to check my voicemail right away so the red light would go away. I can't stand little red lights."

This caused considerable comment. "Little red lights? Seriously?" "I just can't stand them. They make me... ug! I had to make it go away."

My mind was on fire with possibilities. "You realize now that I'm gonna put red lights all over your desk." "Oh, don't do that! I just can't stand little red lights!" "You're not exactly discouraging me, you know."

That day, M16 left the office at 5. At 5:01, I picked up my phone and dialed his desk. At the voicemail prompt, I started a happy little song:

"YOU've, got a reeeeeed light!
A red light on your PHONE!
YOU've, got a reeeeeed light!
A red light ON your phone!"

I repeated the whole thing... second time through I let my voice go crazy-high and squeaky. Think "Alvin the chipmunk on Helium" and you've got the idea. It was loud.

When I hung up, Big Dawg was staring at me. His look of utter bafflement caused me more joy than my heart could contain.

"Now he'll have a red light on his desk!", I happily shouted. I even threw my arms up in the air.

"Oh, that's genius," Big Dawg agreed. He picked up his own phone. At M16's voicemail prompt, he quickly shouted "Red Light!" and hung up.

M16 has stopped telling me things. It's a defense mechanism, I think.

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Cold

A short one for your Friday.

I bought a soda for Big Dawg. He was in one of those wobbly gleeful caffeine-deprived deliriums, so I thought I'd try to help out. Besides, if he were to actually fall over and go to sleep, I'd have no other option but to grab a pillow and blanket for him. This seemed more cost-effective.

When I presented his soda to him, he cuddled the bottle like it was a teddy bear. "Oooohhh... it's COLD!"

I couldn't resist. "It should be... I carried it over here in the void where my soul used to be."

Big Dawg laughed so hard that he curled up a bit and closed his eyes. His entire body shook. There may have been some drool.

I guess the soda came just in time.

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Bruised

Here's another one to add to the never-ending list of "Things that are wrong with Jeff".

My hip pain is not just a symptom of Bursitis. No, that would be too simple. I have "I.T. Band" troubles as well.

Given that I work in Information Technology, I was pretty sure I was being mocked ("Your I.T. Band is defective... you need a new vocalist"). But no, it's actually a thing. It's a long band of "fibrous tendons and stuff" that goes from the hip down to just below the knee.

The best part is how they fix it. It's a procedure called ASTYM. I'm pretty that's an acronym, and that at least 3 of those letters stand for "ow".

The link, "What's the treatment like?", is actually quite fascinating. However, they do leave out three important words... "Hurts like ####".

They take a device that looks like a miniature pizza cutter.



Dramatization. Not a real medical device. Do not attempt at home. Pizza sauce will stain.

Then, they scrape that thing HARD up and down the IT Band, to smooth out the lumpy bits. Once the IT Band is all smooth and good, it can stretch normally and the pain goes away. In the meantime...



Yeah... that's a downward motion. It's a bit uncomfortable. "It's normal for the skin to bruise," the lady told me. It's also normal for the patient to cry. At least, I hope.

She did this to me on a Monday. That Wednesday, I came back for a second round of treatment. I was really hoping she'd go easy on me. "Look," I showed her. "The bruises haven't quite faded from Monday."

"That's OK," she cheerfully replied. "I'll just run right over the top of them again!"

That was NOT the answer I was hoping to hear. *sigh*

I may never walk again.

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Hired

So, after SpanFan's tear-jerker farewell, we had a position open at work. One of the applicants was most unexpected and extremely welcome... P-Ziddy.

That's right, my old buddy, long-ago coworker, and high-profile blog personality P-Ziddy! When his interview was scheduled, our mutual friend V nearly lost her mind.

"Can I suggest interview questions?!?" It would have crushed her soul to say no. "Sure!"

Her list was quite good, actually.

1) What do you want to be when you grow up? Acceptable answers:
  - Taller.
  - Jedi Knight
  - Able to leap medium to large objects.

2) What super hero most personifies your coding abilities?

3) Superman was Clark Kent to the Daily Planet. What is P-Ziddy to his employer?

4) You have a room to pack and three sizes of boxes. Large, medium and small. Which boxes do you pack with beer?

V also suggested that we all wear fake mustaches, give him an ASCII-art Ink Blot test, and make him sing "White and Nerdy".

Ultimately, none of those interview questions came up. I did hit him with, "This next question accounts for 49.5% of your overall score.... Kirk or Picard?"

P-Ziddy sniffed out the trick question and correctly answered, "Sheridan." We hired him on the spot.

Holy buckets! I work with P-Ziddy again! What have I DONE?!?

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Father's Day Card

I don't usually post on Sundays, but I thought I'd show you the Father's Day card I got for my dad. :)

The original outside of the card said "Sammy", but I personalized it a bit.



"Jeffrey's dad told him he could be anything. Jeffrey decided to be awesome."

The inside reads:



Now you all know who to blame. :)

Happy Father's Day!

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