Photograph

Last Friday I went to the opthamologist. The waiting room was hilarious. I sat down amidst a bunch of old folks with dark sunglasses on (to help with the pupil dilation part) waiting for their name to be called. I'm hardly ever the youngest person in a crowd anymore, but I certainly wasn't in the majority there.

The beauty about the elderly is that they don't have to sit around fiddling with their gizmos and talking on phones all the time. They don't mind sitting and chatting with each other or looking around, looking out the window, sitting in the waiting room listening to the repeated slow pounding of the pile driver breaking ground on a new wing of the hospital next door. Besides, there was a brown placard on the desk that said NO CELL PHONES with a picture of a cell phone and the international NO symbol (circle with a slash through it) on top.

The waiting room became sort of lively when a 70s-ish couple came in to drop some records off. The husband wore a tan jacket and matching fedora/safari hat and he held a stack of his files in his hand. His wife hobbled in on a cane and told him to drop them off on the counter. The man held them above the counter like he was about drop them off, but the staff were running around not noticing him. The wife told him again to drop them off . He looked around and told his wife nobody would see the records. She assured him they would be seen at some point. He turned away from her and stood patiently waiting for the staff to notice him.

A blond boy who was probably 9 years old wearing glasses with coke-bottle lenses came running into the room followed by his mother and father. She was decked out in brown camouflage pants or shorts (I couldn't tell because they seemed too long for shorts and too short for pants) and brown Chuck Taylors, and she had a hairstyle like Bon Jovi from the early Bon Jovi days. She yapped on her pink cell phone while her son jumped around her asking for money. The kid wore a t-shirt that said I'M ONLY PRETENDING TO LISTEN. His dad's t-shirt read OLD GUYS RULE.

Kid: "Can I have a dollar? Can I have a quarter?"
Mom: "What happened to your cell phone?"

The father had a cane that looked like one a blind person would use (he definitely wasn't blind), but the cane wasn't as long and it had a rounded end that the dad repeatedly prodded the back of the kid's knees with.

The kid ran out and back into the waiting room.
Kid: "Can I have a quarter?"

The old man in the fedora handed him a quarter and said "Here's a quarter."
Mom: "He just gave you a quarter, what do you say?"
Kid: "Thank you"

The kid ran off again.

After many minutes, the waiting room cleared one by one until I was the last one there. The woman working behind the counter finally asked me for my health insurance card. I handed it to her and noticed that she looked like she could be a superhero in her green jumpsuit and ridiculously long black boots. She told me she'd see what was taking so long. I took my seat again, 60 minutes after I had first taken my seat.

20 minutes later I would experience what it probably feels like to have a searing cattle prod burnt into the back of my eyeballs as they took photographs. Pupil dilation is only good when you're on drugs. Thankfully I had remembered to bring my sunglasses.

Journey

My apologies for not posting last week and not even having the decency to leave a note that I wouldn't be posting. I had this really elaborate plan in mind that probably would have been the best blog ever, but well... shit happens.

We went to Spain last week, which included a stop in London for a day. Really nice. I won't bore you with details of sunny days by the pool and the beach, or experiencing historically important places, or anything of the sort. But I must say that the Europeans can teach us stupid Americans a thing or two about livin. Here's a few:

- taking a siesta
- throwing the standard architectural city plans out the window and building areas with winding streets meant only for foot traffic
- making the standard driving test far more difficult thereby taking at least half the morons off the road
- 2 dollar coins
- topless beaches
- allowing the purchase of Cuban cigars

Here's a few things they could learn from us:
- coffee to go
- putting more cupholders in cars
- there are sports other than "proper football" and cricket, and they should be shown on television 24 hours a day
- automatic transmission

Funny how most of the things they could learn from us kinda revolve around living on the go. Maybe they know something we don't.

Fake Tales of San Francisco

This week I'm in San Francisco. One of the things I miss about this city is the ability to take a taxicab to wherever you want to go. Not that you couldn't take a cab in LA, but that would be ridiculous and expensive.

Each day I walk out of the hotel and cross the street to the taxi stand. Twice now I've walked up to the driver and said "you available?" And they've replied "where are you going?" Usually, the "where are you going" question happens AFTER they've replied "yes, I'm available."

The first time I got the question, I replied "11th & Folsom". And the driver said something like "I'm not going in that direction". Funny, I thought taxicabs were ALWAYS going in your direction. That's because their main function is to drive you in whatever direction you're going. Not whatever direction they're going in, unless they happen to be going to pick up a fare, and they really oughta be more concerned with picking up that fare than wasting their time stopping for random people who just might be going to where their future passenger is waiting.

So the next time I go up to the taxi driver and ask "you available?" And the driver asks "where you going?" And I reply "you available?" The driver says "yes" and I get in the cab and tell him "11th and Folsom."

I think they'd rather hear me say "wherever the hell you want to drive so's to get a huge fare and relative tip. So let's just drive around until you're tired and I'll get the fuck out." Right. That would be like me asking a potential client how much editing they want to do before I decide to take the job. Please.

TV Party

I'm gonna bring a TV set to work and watch it. (If you know me or if you know what I do for a living, then you know that there's always a TV at work. But just go with it.) Yes, I've decided that it's time for me to be able to sit in my work chair and just kick back and watch the tube.

I could watch some home videos, or maybe tune in and watch some music videos. Perhaps an episode of a classic television show I used to enjoy as a kid. Right there on my personal TV at work. Sounds fun right? Nothing wrong with watching a little TV at work, right?

But wait, I don't need to lug a big ole TV to work at all. I've got YouTube to do my TV viewing already. And all my co-workers are doing it too! No more guilt about watching TV at work at all. In fact, several of my co-workers regularly send me links to watch videos on YouTube. And they're not just 2 minutes vids or whatever. Last week I recieved a link to a video that's over 20 minutes of a guy playing Super Mario Brothers and swearing a lot whenever Mario gets killed. If co-workers are watching over 20 minutes of a guy playing Super Mario Brothers and swearing a lot whenever Mario gets killed then it must be okay for me to watch a little TV at work, right?

Wake Up

It's been easy waking up lately. Not easy like "Eyes slowly opening, outside birds gently singing, I glance at the clock and it's late but that's okay" easy. Easy like "Those fucking seagulls better shut up or I'm gonna throw an Alka-Seltzer feeding party. Aw shit, might as well drag my ass out of bed" easy. With all the noise you hear in our neighborhood before the alarm clock goes off, it's a breeze waking up.

The garbage trucks. The seagulls squawking at the garbage left behind by the garbage trucks. The sirens. The cars racing down Grand Blvd. The downstairs neighbors turning on the bathroom fan and slamming the toilet seat in either direction. The gardeners with their lawnmowers and their weed whackers. The sirens. And the occasional neighbor starting their car, rolling down the windows and blasting some otherwise relatively benign indie-pop like The Shins or Death Cab for Cutie. Caring is Creepy. Right. YOU'RE creepy. Fuck off and give me back my last hour of sleep.

There's also our unpredictable roommate. Sometimes he wakes up before I do and makes a bunch of noise. Other times he gets up in the middle of the night and makes a racket, which makes it impossible to sleep much less get back to sleep when the racket is over. And then there are the times when I wake up and look at the clock and I think he's gonna make some noise soon, therefore I can't sleep anymore I might as well drag my ass outta bed.

But I know of a way to solve the problem: If you can't beat 'em, drink more coffee.

I Don't Like Mondays

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Guided by Voices

The phone rang. It was the friendly folks at my cellular service provider who had decided to give me a 2nd line with a free phone too.
Her voice was loud and instructional, and I could tell she was reading from the printed page.

voice: Hello this is a complimentary call from Sprint Nextel and we'd like to let you know that in addition to our free offer, this call will not count against any of your minutes.

me: Great

voice: I'd like to speak with Mr. Gardner

me: This is Mr. Gardner

voice: Because you've been such an outstanding customer blah blah blah we'd like to offer you a 2nd line and a free flip phone blah blah blah

me: Great

voice: Would you be interested in that?

me: I'm interested

voice: So are you saying yes, you'd like to accept our offer?

me: Let me ask you this: Can I take the extra line and make it my wife's phone number and give her the free phone?

voice: I'm not sure. Are you interested?

me: I'm interested

voice: Would you like to accept our offer?

me: Well, I can't really make a decision whether I'd like to accept or not until I have information as to whether I can make the extra line my wife's phone number and give her the free phone.

voice: (pause) Can I put you on hold for a minute to see if I can answer your question?

me: Sure

A minute goes by, and the voice returns

voice: Hello? Mr. Gardner?

me: Yes

voice: I'm not really sure if we can do that or not.

me: Hmmm

voice: So would you like to accept our offer?

me: Well, I can't really make a decision whether I'd like to accept or not until I have information as to whether I can make the extra line my wife's phone number and give her the free phone.

voice: So is that a yes or a no?

me: It's neither. I can't really make a decision based on the information I have.

voice: Well thank you for your time and thank you for choosing Sprint together with Nextel.

me: Okay, bye.

The next day the phone rings and it's the same voice and the same offer is offered as if the prior conversation never happened. I explained that we'd had this conversation before and I couldn't make a decision until she could tell me whether I could make the extra line my wife's phone number and give her the free phone.

voice: Can I put you on hold for a minute to see if I can answer your question?

A minute goes by, and the voice returns

voice: Hello? Mr. Gardner?

me: Yes

voice: I have my supervisor on the line, could you repeat your question?

me: Can I take the extra line and make it my wife's phone number and give her the free phone?

voice (not the supervisor's voice): Can I put you on hold for a minute to see if I can answer your question?

me: Sure.

A minute goes by, and the voice returns

voice: I'm not really sure if we can do that or not.

I tell the voice that I can't really spend any more time on this, and she says thanks for choosing Sprint together with Nextel. The next day the phone rings and it's a different voice offering the same plan. I give my same spiel and this time the voice tells me I need to call customer relations, and that he can't do it for me. That was easy.

Money

I'm a "click here to save the environment" kind of guy. There's a mail folder I've created in my favorite e-mail program to separate all those "click here to save the environment" kind of e-mails. I feel like I'm doing my part. Clicking to save polar bears and baby seals. Clicking to save the trees from the loggers and the Bush administration. Clicking to bring the troops home. Click.

Sometimes I give money to these organizations as well. Hell, if the lobbyists for destroying the planet are throwing their money into the furnace, then I oughta be throwing my money into buying some water to put the fire out. One organization I give money to is Environment California. They do all sorts of good stuff like making sure there's no rocket fuel in our drinking water. And they use my money to stop the oil companies from putting up a zillion oil drilling platforms off the California coast and having us swim in slimy water at the beach I don't even wanna swim in. It's the least I can do.

But my favorite thing about giving money to Environment California is the fact that when I see their young minions out in front of REI or wherever asking for money, I can tell them I already give every month to their organization. Then their faces fill with glee and they thank me and back off.

One such minion started walking up to me to ask for "a moment of my time"*, but I stopped him in his tracks by telling him I'm already a member and I give every month. He then smiled and made an arm gesture rotating at the shoulder right angle bent elbow with fist moving in front of his torso toward the other shoulder. If that doesn't make sense, it's kind of a "hooray" or hoisting beer stein or "shucks" kind of motion. If that still doesn't make sense, come see me and I'll demonstrate it for you.

Well, he did that and I immediately thought "whoa, that was the dorkiest motion I've seen in quite a while, I can't believe he just did that" and I looked at his cohort standing on the other side of me like "can you believe he just did that?" The other guy was smiling too. Now I wanna give my money to some other cause, because apparently they're using my money to supply these kids with drugs. Click.

*money

Lady

My apartment manager's been making more than the usual amount of visits lately. No specific reason. Not like we're late with the rent. Just this or that, and it's way too much interaction than I'm comfortable with. Borrowing the laundry key, returning the laundry key. Bringing her granddaughter over to visit Judah. Telling us about her new roommate.

It's not that I mind her personally, it's more about the startle I get when anybody knocks on our door. So unexpected. So eerie sounding. And she usually knocks at times when I'm fully settled into "home" mode with "home clothes" on and doing something mundane like cleaning the kitchen after dinner.

The latest surprise visit was Monday morning after I got up and was milling around getting some orange juice. It was an unusually quiet morning for this loud neighborhood. I was probably thinking that it must be nice for Lily and Judah to get some sleep then KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. It felt like a bucket full of ice cold water was dumped on my head.

I opened the door and saw my apartment manager standing there with that face that looks like the "embarassed" emoticon, and I'm sure I answered the door with that face that looks like the "gasp" emoticon. Or maybe I just looked blank and not awake yet. Anyway, my apartment manager proceeds to tell me that we were supposed to get our windows replaced on Tuesday morning at 8 am, but the window replacer guys were here on Monday at 7:20. Nice.

She asked me if I wanted to reschedule and before I had a chance to say something kind like "excuse me, I'm not awake yet, what the hell did you just tell me?" I told her I wasn't aware that the window guys were even coming and that the rest of my family (still sounds weird to say that) was still asleep. She said okay and I closed the door.

I could hear her scamper down the stairs and tell the window guys to come back tomorrow. At least I knew she'd be knocking again in the next 24 hours. Surprise visit duly noted.

It's More Fun to Compute

I've used Apple computers for some time now. Although I call myself a Mac user, unlike a lot of Mac users I have really no hatred toward PCs or the Windows platform. In fact, I really like the Windows feature that allows your window to lock to the entire screen. And I wish that were an option in Macs. So there ya go. Don't hate PCs.

But a PC user recently told me "Macs suck" and I felt compelled to find reasons why they don't suck. And the number one reason they don't suck is the thumb. Macs don't make you use your pinky for the main modifier key. Macs use the thumb.

Just try holding down CTRL with your pinky on a PC and reach for T or Y. Weird fingering, right? Now try holding down CMND (this would be where the ALT button is on PCs for those of you using a PC keyboard) with your left thumb and reach for T or Y. Not so weird, right? Weird with the PC. Not with the Mac. There ya go. PCs are for weridos. You don't want to be a weirdo, do you?