Red Light

There were a few things I wasn’t sure how I would adjust to once I moved to the Twin Cities, such as the vast numbers of people, the traffic, the weather, etc. However, after about a month of living here I can say with confidence that I’ve managed to adjust rather well.

Well, there is that one little thing. It’s no big deal, really, besides the fact that that it is most likely going to drive me completely insane within the next week or so. I am referring to, of course, the stoplights. They’re everywhere! It’s not just that, though. It’s the fact that they regularly last longer than a standard nine inning baseball game! So, when I'm sitting at one for what seems like hours it quickly wears on my last nerve, and I soon find myself wondering if walking wouldn’t be a less stressful option, not to mention faster.

In order to better illustrate my frustration, I now present to you a slightly over dramatized, complete with stilted language, version of the thoughts that run through my head when I have to stop at a red light on my way to work. You tell me how stretched thin my sanity is.

Red light! Dang it! Oh well, judging from the amount of cars in front of me, it’s been red for a while. Good. It’ll turn soon.

Hmmm, the song on the radio is pretty good, albeit slightly overproduced, like so much out of Nashville these days.

Whoa, the guy in the car next to me looks like Gargamel from the Smurfs!

I’ll bet most people nowadays wouldn’t even get a good Gargamel reference. Sad for them, I guess.

Time to close the ol’ window, now that somebody blaring rap has pulled up next to me.

All right stoplight, you can turn green any decade now!

Huh. I wonder if by using unnecessarily high-handed language in my blog I am unintentionally turning off potential readers because they see it as a symptom of a superiority complex?

Uh-oh. Did I forget my lunch? AAARRRGGGHHH! I cannot imagine anything worse happening right now! Why me? WHYYYYYY!!??

Oh wait, its right here. Phew! Good ol’ P B & J .....I’m glad you’re here... I’ll see you later...

Good grief! I may run out of gas if this light doesn’t change soon!

I wonder if my constant references to the 80’s are being found as witty and charming by the younger folks, or if I’m just viewed as being weird because of them? I don’t care, though! MacGyver must live on forever! Also, the A-Team.

Amarillo by morning.... up from San Antone... Everything that I’ve got... Is just what I’ve got onnnnnn.... Man, I should learn to play the fiddle. Or hire somebody to walk around behind me playing the fiddle.

Are you kidding me!? I think my best bet of moving is to hope for a freak tornado to form so it can pick up my car and toss me across the intersection!!!

Wait a minute... waitaminute! Am I losing my hair?... let me look in the rearview....Nope! Good as ever! Boy, was I worried there for a minute! What a relief!

Wow. That old lady in the walker in the walker on the sidewalk is moving faster than I am right now.

THAT’S IT!!!! If this doesn’t change in the next few moments I’m going to lose it! I’ll jump the curb and shoot across the intersection! I won’t even look for cars!! Who cares??!! Ha ha! It’ll be fun!!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

{The light turns green}

Oh thank goodness! I think I almost went crazy there. Oh well, here we go again. Wow, this is so much better. Boy, I’ll bet my blood pressure is through the roof! Double wow, my hands are sweaty and I’m shaking uncontrollably! Good thing I’m done with that ordeal! Soon I’ll be tucked away in my cubicle and I won’t have to worry about stuff like this for a long…. Hey! Why is everybody stopping up there? Oh no!! It can't be! Another stoplight? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Things I Cannot Say

There are some things a person just can’t say. I’m not talking about anything inappropriate, mind you. I’m just saying that there are some words of phrases that a person can’t say without appearing completely out of character. For example, nobody but Spock can say, “That’s highly illogical.” It would just seem forced and out of place. (My first Star Trek reference! I don’t know if I’m happy or embarrassed.)

With that in mind, I’ve compiled a short list of things I wish I could say, because it would be fun, but I can’t, just because it wouldn’t seem right. They are as follows:

“Dern Tootin!”

“Blimey!” and “Rubbish!”

“Jumpin’ Gosh Almighty!!”

“They may take our lives, but they’ll never take…… our FREEDOM!!!!!”

“Your eyes are as blue as window cleaner.” (Redneck pick-up line)

“Woot, woot!” (I know that’s not said much anymore, but I never could say it when everybody else was.)

“Aarrgghh!” (My friend Jeff is the only person I know who actually says that word, and as far as I know, he’s the only one that can pull it off.)

“Saddle up!”

“Let’s touch base on this tomorrow, and then, depending on our bandwidth and what’s on everybody’s plates, we’ll make a final determination of how to allocate the work load, and it goes without mention that we will also make sure everything is documented properly.” – Wait a minute! That’s not something I wish I could say. It’s something I almost could say! Aarrgghh!

Any additions?

The Ultimate Farmer's Tan, And Other Topics

I have a farmer’s tan.

Now, that in itself would not typically be newsworthy, but you have to understand one thing: it is a truly impressive farmer’s tan. In fact, it’s my best ever. The contrast between the tan and un-tanned portions of me is truly astounding, to the point where if I went shirtless it would, without a doubt, blind you, not to mention cause you to squeal in terror as you swerved off of the road in self-defense, assuming you were driving a car at the time, of course.

While I normally have a decent farmer’s tan, this is one I’m truly proud of, and I owe it all to moving to Minnesota. You see, I’ve gotten more sun in the last three weeks than I probably have in my entire tenure in Wisconsin, simply because of the multitude of opportunities I now have for outdoor activities.

(At first I felt like a vampire when I saw the sunlight. I would cover my eyes and growl ferociously, which is what a person naturally does when they expect to burst into flames. However, I’ve gotten used to it, which is good, because coffins are quite expensive and my black cape is not very comfortable.)

That is not the only thing that’s changed. Another example is that I don’t read anymore. I used to. A lot. Now, I haven’t read a book in quite some time, mainly because I’m too busy being outside. In fact, I still haven’t found a library in Minnesota yet, which wouldn’t be surprising if I was just getting lost, but it’s because I haven’t even yet tried.

I also used to follow the news, mainly because there wasn’t much else to do. It got to the point where I was actually following politics. I got to know all of the talk show hosts and their varying personalities, which can be boiled down to the following sample set: loud and obnoxious, loud and obnoxious, loud and obnoxious, insightful and balanced (but soon to be cancelled). I also figured out that pretty much all politicians are useless, mainly because they are, by definition, politicians. However, now, I’m falling behind on current events. For example, I have no idea the specifics of how one political party is undoubtedly taking something completely out of context just to try and smear the other, all in retaliation for the other party doing the same thing to them at some earlier point in time. Heck, I also haven’t even flipped over to MSNBC lately just to watch Keith Olbermann go into a barely-controlled rant, just to see if this was going to be the time where his head would actually explode.

Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Everything I’ve given up are things I can do when I’m an old geezer, wandering around aimlessly because I lost my car keys weeks ago and have no idea where I live. Now, it’s time to live for the moment. For example, playing volleyball, which I’ve been able to take up again after roughly a seven year sabbatical. I’ve even expanded my game this summer, so now I’m ambidextrous up at the net. (I can spike just as weakly with either hand!!)

So, to put it shortly, I may be regressing as a person, but I’m having a lot of fun doing it. Just don’t invite me to a pool party. You may burn your eyes out.

Rip Off The Knob And Beat On The Dash

Living in the Twin Cities brings with it some negatives, such as the ridiculous summer heat, the ridiculous traffic, and the general ridiculousness that stems from the total amount of people there. However, there are also benefits to being in such a busting area, such as having a much better chance to see wacky people.

For example, I was just in a gas station and 'Country Roads' by John Denver was being played over the radio and throughout the store. I was singing along in my head and enjoying it, but not as much as the young man who wandered by. He was singing the chorus out loud, at a high volume level, and not at all well. Still, he did not care if anybody was listening, or what they were thinking, because he continued to wander and sing, apparently without a care in the world.

Now, while that was mildly entertaining, it luckily got better.

After I left the gas station, I was stopped at a red light that lasted for approximately a presidential administration. Long red lights are normally another annoying thing about the cities, but this time I happened to look in my rear view mirror and saw the same guy behind me in his own vehicle. This time he was really fired up by whatever music he was listening to. He was basically dancing fervently in his seat. His arms were all over the place: swinging back and forth, banging on the dashboard, clapping together, etc. He was also singing, and although I couldn’t hear him, I believe it must have been quite loudly.

I watched this for a good twenty seconds, until he paused to take a swig of an energy drink, which did not surprise me one bit. He started up again, and only stopped his routine later on in order to light up a cigarette. The light then turned green and he followed me for a few blocks, puffing contentedly, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had started to rock out again at any moment.

My point is that I'm adjusting the Twin Cities, and like the old saying goes, you just have to learn to take the good with the bad. And I guess it doesn’t hurt to get your groove on once in a while, too.

Shout-Out To An Inanimate Object

There are very few things in this world you can count on, besides the often-heard ‘death and taxes’. Besides that there isn’t much, except for maybe the fact that the backup quarterback is always more popular until he plays or that nobody ever hears Don Williams and says, “That was some terrible music!”

But then there is my clock radio. I’ve had it since middle school, if I’m recollecting right. It has woken me up for probably more than half of my life, and it shows no signs of slowing down. (You could say that it appears that it’ll just keep on ticking. Har!) It’s rousted me out of bed for just about everything, including school, work, church, and morning hikes.

It is neither sleek nor aerodynamic, like so many products in today’s I-Pod era. Instead, it is like a car from the eighties: built entirely out of right angles. The radio doesn’t work very well on it anymore, but I only use it for an alarm clock, and that is where it excels.

It has been with me everywhere: From Fulton, Michigan to Stevens Point, Wisconsin, to Plymouth, Minnesota. It has been a constant, stalwart, quiet companion who does not talk back except for the annoying beeping it emits every morning when I need to wake up. Still, it’s only doing it for my own good, so I hold nothing against it.

My favorite story about my clock radio was the morning when it woke me up andI was still so groggy that I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to shut it off, even though I’d pressed the same button to turn it off for many years prior to that. After staring at it stupidly for what seemed like hours, my brain finally came up with a solution, and so I unplugged it, just so it would stop the incessant beeping. (Note: I didn’t say it was a good story. It is just the best one I have.)

I’m not sure why I’m writing about a clock radio. There is nothing inherently exciting about it, but maybe that’s part of its charm. It just goes out and gets the job done every time it's called upon without frills or need for recognition. It’s basically like getting the Cal Ripkin Jr. of electronics, and, now that I think about it, perhaps more things in this world should be like that.