Tuesday, January 31, 2012

A couple Band Aids and I’ll be fine


Every year I make a piece of furniture for a charity auction here in Albuquerque.
And I’m basically terrified of my own power tools.
Twice, I’ve seen woodworkers with only three fingers on one hand.  Once would have been plenty, but if you visit woodworking supply stores often enough you run that risk, right?
Anyway, I finished my project without a mishap and used all ten of my fingers to put my tools away.  Then I discovered I needed to make one little extra cut.
Being too lazy to re-set everything, I did it with a handsaw.
And chewed up the skin on one of my fingers in the process.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Happy all the time could make one angry


The thing about being happy is that it’s different from being normal, or sad, or angry, or any other emotion, right?
It’s good to be happy, really good, but not all the time.  If one were happy all the time wouldn’t one eventually forget what other emotions felt like?
Eventually happy would become the norm and there would be no place to go when something good happened so that one could be, you know … happy.
That would be sad.
And that would make one angry, wouldn’t it?

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Doctor time


Many of the nice doctor folks have changed the time they’re asking you to come for an appointment.  Instead of asking you to come in fifteen minutes early they’re now asking you to come in twenty minutes early.
There’s some paperwork and a co-pay, or a credit check, or the bartering of your car, or the surrender of one of your children, so it seems a certain amount of early time is required, but twenty minutes?
Okay, okay, it might take twenty minutes to sign away one of your kids, but that rarely happens, right?
Nothing’s changed of course.  You still check in and wait in the waiting room.  The nurse can’t take you into an exam room because there isn’t one available or the doctor isn’t able to see you yet.
That’s okay.  You’re early, right?
So, you sit waiting, along with ten or twenty other people, sharing germs via coughs and sneezes, touching stuff and generally breathing each other’s air.
Ten or twenty minutes later someone calls your name and you’re ushered back to an exam room where you’ll wait another ten or twenty minutes for the doctor.
That’s okay, too.  I guess.  There’s interesting stuff to look at and read on the walls of course: What your urinary tract looks like, your arteries and veins, what part of your brain explodes when you go nuts waiting, your testicles, all kinds of interesting stuff.
Eventually the doctor comes in.
He or she is usually smiling, but clearly overworked.  There’s a pleasant greeting and he or she buries his or her face in the computer.
Once he or she has you “up” on screen the business of doctoring can commence.
If you glance at your watch you’ll notice that your one o’clock appointment started at roughly one thirty-five.
That’s okay.  It’s doctor time.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

I worry about my attention span


I don’t know about eternity.  It seems like a long time.
I mean a really loooooooooooonnnng tiiiiiiiiiimmmmme.
And I can barely stay interested in anything for more than twenty minutes.

Friday, January 27, 2012

The cat thinks she’s invisible


When there’s too much commotion in the house, the cat slips up under the bedspread on our bed.  It’s kinda funny to walk into the bedroom and see a big lump in the middle of our bedspread.
I’m pretty sure she feels safe, and thinks she’s hidden under there.
I’ve been tempted to go over and pet her through the spread, but I think it might really freak her out, so I don’t.
What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?

Thursday, January 26, 2012

We’re not all Frank Sinatra


The problem with being stubborn, no, strong willed, and doing it your way is; if you’re an average person, you’re probably only going to be right about half the time.
Doing it your way probably means you’ll have a fifty-fifty chance of being wrong and screwing up.
Or maybe not being completely wrong, and only screwing up a little.
On the other hand, you have the exact same odds of being right, and being successful.
Or maybe of being almost right and being somewhat successful.
That’s good.  Or at least not bad.
If you’re in the half that make it, you’re probably pretty happy, or should be.
If you’re in the other half?  Well, you’ll take the blows, as Frank would say.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Nobody wants to be vanilla


I’ve heard it said that vanilla ice cream is the most popular flavor.  Well, it’s certainly used more.  In more recipes I guess.  But does that make it the most popular?
I’ve never actually heard anybody say “Mmm, vanilla!”  Have you?
Vanilla is used to describe the ordinary, isn’t it?  As in: “He’s nice and all, but he has such a vanilla personality.”
We all know what that means, and nobody wants to be that guy.
I believe strawberry comes in second, but I’d put chocolate ahead of both.  After that, I’d put chocolate marshmallow.  And mint chocolate chip would be in a tie with fudge ripple for third.  Black cherry with little bits of chocolate gets an honorable mention, then every other flavor, and in any order you choose.
Did I mention I like chocolate?