iffageek falls

-Playing the "if you were a romance writer, what would your name be?" game.

-Every time i saw the novel The Green Berets, and the lorne greene song, "ballad of the green berets," ran through my head...

-How the nora roberts' series "the McCade brothers" always made me think of THE MCQUADE BROTHERS! (HAH!)... if you don't know who tom hansen and doug penhall are, you must be under 25 or you spent your childhood doing better things than watching tv.

-the license plate i saw on a minivan today -- VLDEMRT

-The fact that i could make a pun using the word 'paramecium' and people got it. they may not have liked it, but they got it.

yeah. i'll miss this job.

m

In honor of the great Swartho and the Cable Guy, here's a poem I wrote a few years ago.


Close, but no DeLorean

A week ago, a teenager of thirty-ish
swaggered into the place I was working.
He wore a muscle shirt so badly faded
that the ghostly Pantera logo was only
an echo of its former metal glory. His jeans,
once acid-washed, were giant rips surrounded
by faded denim. Bleached blond hair fought losing
battles against itself – the back was long
and feathered, the top was short and hairsprayed into
place, the spiked-up row along one side a
defiant relic of bygone days. He came to
the counter with something small, a purchase I didn’t
really register, I was so bemused
by the tarnished silver cross that dangled down
from one earlobe. And as he sauntered back out
to the gutless 80’s pony car – the custom
soft-top faded but still badly clashing; the flames
upon the hood and the stripes along the sides
all pointing back to massive exhaust pipes of battered
chrome, and out-of-state plates that stated
‘DARYLSGT’ for all to see – amusement
and pity rampaged across the face of my face.
But as he started the engine and revved it thrice,
a tiny smile quirked the tip of my lips,
and as he buzzed away from me and back to
the 80’s, back to sparkling chrome and silver –
back to a time when he was the Baddest Man in
His Whole Damn Town, a tiny guy from somewhere
inside me nodded his tiny head, raised
his tiny fist in salute, and raised his tiny
voice to say merely, “Right on, dude!”

MM
08/29/00

i've been thinking about a lot of things related to my job, some good, most bitter or angry with the way i let things turn out. when i started, i thought that this was the ideal job for me. lately, i've been losing so much of the enjoyment that i first had, and the job has left me feeling drained, and yet stressed and frustrated (no small feat). i keep wondering what i could have done differently, wondering where i lost the fun, and playing the wonderful "if i had only" game. after quite a while, i finally remembered this story. no jokes today, no puns, no silly pseudo-questions. this is an actual buddhist parable, from japan (i think). however, like many jokes, i remember the basic setup, the main elements, and the "punchline," as it were; the actual wording (and any subsequent loss of meaning) are mine.

Two monks, master and student, are walking through the woods, when they come across a swiftly moving river. a woman is sitting on the near bank, crying. The older monk walks up to her and asks her why she is crying. She replies that she needs to get across the river, but it's too deep and too fast for her to cross. Without hesitating, the older monk tells her to climb on his back and proceeds to carry her across the river. Once on the other side, she thanks him profusely, and the travelers continue on their separate ways.

The younger monk is obviously outraged, but manages to hold his tongue for quite a while. His master is amused, but merely walks on in silence, waiting for the explosion. Finally, unable to control himself, the student bursts out, "Master! How could you do that? That was wrong!!"
"What was wrong?"
"What you did with that woman!"
"When I helped her, it was wrong?"
"Yes, master."
"So it is wrong for us to help people in need?"
Big silence. "Of course not, master, but you carried her!"
"So?" the old monk asked, still amused.
Even more upset, his pupil continued, "You touched her! You broke your vow of chastity!"
The older monk became serious, "Not so, for we did nothing improper. I merely helped someone do what was impossible alone. Had it been a young child, an old woman or man, or a cripple, I would have done the same. However, by your standards, you are even more corrupt than I."
Thoroughly confused, the pupil looks at the older monk, and asks, tentatively, "What do you mean, master?"
"Well, I merely carried her across the stream and left her there. You've been carrying her around with you the entire afternoon!"

whew! finally got the big application done. because it's a public library job, there was a huge (9 pages plus instructions!) application, a disclosure form (one of those things that contains phrases like "if yes, list date(s) and circumstances of conviction(s)" a whole bunch of times), a supplemental questionnaire (more on that in the near future), and a permission form for a background check. this for an entry-level job.

anyway, whew!

m

kftd -- if a geek falls in the forest (get it now?), and there's no one around to hear, does he still say, "i meant to do that..." and laugh really loudly?

Again, trying not to give too much away, that is the first new poem I have written (aside from a couple to my wife) in years. part of it, i'm sure, is that i write a lot when i have feelings of discontent or other such darker things to express. Since I've spent the last few years seeing my family a lot (and getting along well with them), finding the woman I love, and getting married, well, i'm sure you see the problem... ;-) also, i haven't had the time or energy lately to really listen to the things i could have been trying to express.

this is something that i've been feeling for a while and trying to put into words, but the impetus to create was provided just now as i was reading posts by a friend. since i still don't know him that well, I won't link directly to his site, as i'm not sure if he'd want me to or not. I'll just say that I feel much better now.

so thanks, Jer...

Putting   on my coat; packing up things forgotten when I found

myself   a new home, I wonder how things have changed since I

first   moved in.  Was this place really so great, or

is   it that the sparkle of new belonging has faded and it is

harder   to appreciate the strange foyer and “charming façade” 

than   it once was?  Did I make it seem so wonderfully unique so

I   could rationalize my decision to settle here?  At the time, I

thought   that I could live here for the rest of my life.  How is

it   that the same place, so open and inviting at the time,

would   now seem only dark and confining?  How can it

be,   that my seeming place of safety has become a trap

after   only a few years?  Am I doomed

all   my life to wander, staying only long enough for

those   first sparkles to fade into discontent, forgetting after

years   or even months how excited I was that I had found a place

of   solace, a secret fortress from whence my heroic attempts at

chasing   what I really wanted to.  Therein is the key: focus on

what   I want, not on the trappings of normalcy the faceless

others   have decreed that I shall have.  I guess I always

thought   too much about how everyone else saw me, and

I   never gave the important things the time or energy I

should   have.  Perhaps that is why I feel this gaping, tearing

want.





Still,   it is hard not to wonder if

I   am chasing ephemera, if I

just   have to accept that the things I think I

need   will remain always out of reach, and it is better

to   appreciate what life has given me; to

take   refuge in “good enough” and stop waiting for

the   fairytale ending.  Why can’t I accept that I can’t ever be

first   in anything?  Yet my stuff is packed, and waiting on the

step.   Hat in one hand, magic beans in the other, I close the door.

just realized that my comments were set to "only registered users;" since i figure that very few people care about this page's sorry existence, i changed that. if you couldn't comment before, you can now. of course this means that i'll be more depressed for a while, since now i don't have that excuse for the dearth of thought provocation apparent in the lack of commentary...or something like that.

m

KFTD* -- Why hasn't anyone publicized the shocking statistic that a full 100% of all home accidents are likely to occur at home?


(*Koan For The Day)

...even her jeans had neat little creases. ;-)

So eenyhoo, tired, dehydrated, and need to actually watch the last 30-40 minutes of 'underworld' before i have to take it back again without finishing it, but eric and i were hanging out in seattle (much much much much fun, by the way), and i saw something that i haven't quite ruled on yet -- it was either funny, or sad, or both. you decide. presented, for your consideration...

we started out the evening by hitting elliot bay (books) so eric could pick up the next few books in the series he's reading (completely disregarding the increasing pile of books i keep building into a fort around him: "here eric, read this... and this... ooh, you'll like this... and this one, you'll probably hate, but try it anyway..."). on the way there, he treated me to his new social consciousness spending theory, in which he tries to support the independent media retailers, because the big conglomerates are the embodiment of all that is evil in this most evil of all possible worlds, or something like that (i don't know. you live in SF for a while, you get some sun, you get some fog, you get some funny ideas); all the while blithely ignoring the fact that since i work for [major retail chain], as he expounds this crackpot theory, i am slowly developing a pointy tail, a cool evil mr spock goatee, and a 2nd degree sunburn. but i digress...

so. gressing onward, we went to todai (mmm. all you can eat japanese food...), then did some shopping and dropped the stuff in the car. after walking (wait for it) THREE-QUARTERS of the way around the block because neither of us remembered where it was, we went and played video games at gameworks. (really, we went up 6th, crossed pine and went right along pine, then went right cause we saw the sign, thus crossing pine again and walking along 7th, then had to go all the way to pike and take a right to find the new entrance halfway between 6th and 7th on pike street)

See, now you think that the sad part is the fact that two guys in their late twenties (sorry eric, but you had your birthday, so now you're closer to 30 than 20; how does it feel?) spent so long playing video games, but it's not. however, i have to say that spending that much time in an arcade was nice, especially since i got to play games like missile command, dig dug, and robotron 2020. it was just like being in high school again, which i think was the last time i was actually in gameworks, but i regress...

and now you might be thinking that the funny part is that since eric said elliot bay and dinner downtown, then the fact that i was wearing slacks and a work shirt in an arcade was pretty funny. i'll admit that i definitely could have been more comfortable, especially in the game that actually required you to duck and hide like your character, but that could have been my knees creaking, too. definitely, if i had known we might go to gameworks, then i would have worn some jeans and a t-shirt, maybe with a casual button down that would have... but i redress...

(wow. i can hear eric screaming all the way from tacoma... all right. i'll stop with the jokes and get to the story.)

yes. i was feeling a bit overdressed, but then i saw a group of kids standing near the entrance in TUXEDOS and PROM DRESSES... yep. i joke you not so much. there's something to be said for watching girls in formalwear play video games, which i'd definitely say if i wanted to be 'creepy old guy.' i'd start in like the voice in my head which noticed the ones in the group that didn't really look thrilled to be there, and the moment when they really should have left because a number of them were just sitting around bored, but i won't because at the time i was inexplicably CHANNELLING MY MOTHER.

No. the irony, the sad, the funny... the part that i wish i had my camera to capture, because i could have won so many photo contests... i looked up from a game we were playing to see three of them standing around watching the fourth play Dance Dance Revolution... You heard me. They were spending time at an arcade instead of a dance to stand around watching somebody pseudo-dancing (alone), on a simulation...

If i had written that into my movie script, i could have sold it to miramax -- they love clever stuff like that (but not TOO clever, isn't that right Mr. award-winning, critically-acclaimed director-type Michael Moore?). Ooh. or a video game -- SimProm!

never mind. i laughed, i cried, i didn't hurl... it was a good day.

m

without further ado... (well, without any ado, really)

The top 10 things you want to say that may signal that it's time to get out of retail (with apologies to the great DL & co.)...

(items in italics are the opening customer question/comment if i thought it made more sense, but *all* of these are in response to questions/queries, etc, that we get on a frighteningly regular basis.)

10) (over telephone) what time do you open? what time do you close? what is your address?
Well, we ...[answer question]. That's an awfully good question. In fact, so many people want that information, that we should really put that information on that three minute recording you just listened to, instead of the boring stuff about our hours of operation and location...

9) (over telephone) Oh, this is the [location] store?
No, we just like to say "thank you for calling [retail chain] at [location]" on the recording and when we answer the phone because we think it's more fun...now will this be for takeout or delivery?

8) Isn't this in paperback?
Yes, but we like to push the large stacks of hardcovers because we're paid on commission...

7) Sir, at some point you have to decide -- are you a dummy, or do you want to learn quantum mechanics?*

6) Even though it's labeled "Alphabetical by author" right at eye level, this section is actually organized by the third word of the author's bio, since we thought that would be easier...**

5) Do you work here?
Yes, but unfortunately, i don't actually know where anything is, they just pay me to walk the books once a day.***

4) Where's your non-fiction section?
See this part labeled 'fiction'? see the other 3/4 of the store?...****

3) Where's the 'self-help' section?
It's right over here, labeled 'irony'.

2) I'm looking for a book...
Oh good. Here's one! Thanks for coming in!

and, the number one comment running madly through your head that signals that it may be time to get out of retail?

I saw this book on TV (heard it on the radio, just plain looking for this book, etc.), but I don't remember the author or title. Can you look it up for me?
Sure! Would you like me to use my computer or my ouija board?


*Really, i've had people asking me for anything from astrophysics to microeconomics for dummies. when i tell them that no such books exist, they will often say, "oh, well the 'idiot's guide' would be ok, too, i guess."

**this becomes even funnier for those book geeks out there who realize that the third word of an author bio is almost always 'is,' 'lives,' or 'writes' -- the few exceptions are those authors with a title (Dr., or Reverend, etc), and steven brust, who writes some of the funniest, least conventional author bios ever. go ahead, check -- we'll wait.

***granted, sometimes this is actually a good question to ask, since I can't count the number of times i've been asked "where's the [merchandise]?" in any number of different retail stores in the last few years -- apparently, i now put off 'retail pheromones' or something (even wearing grubby sweats and running a fever of 102 -- seriously). the problem is just that the timing usually leaves something to be desired. Case in point: I had a pen behind my ear, a scanner in my hand, a clipboard in my other hand, and a large stack of books balanced between them getting caught on my nametag, and somebody asked me that question. I was gratified when his friend immediately went into convulsions trying to snort and drink coffee at the same time.

****why is is that people asking for the 'nonfiction' section are almost always looking for true crime or self improvement? strange, but true.

m

ps -- koan for the day -- what is the sound of one brain popping?

why is it that age can be such a concrete value (as in, i just turned 27), and yet such a relative? As i get older, i find that people my respective age continue to look, well, "not old," but i have a harder and harder time accurately figuring out the age of anyone younger than me by more than a few years (they just look really young...), and people up to 10-15 years older than me no longer look as "old" as they used to.

today i visited the community college i previously attended about 8 years ago. in addition to finding out that it's going to be a lot easier than i thought to go back to school, i discovered the phenomenon of "instant aging." It's scary, and works like this:

when i first walked into the college, i was struck by how familiar it was. The offices looked the same, the hustle and bustle of students changing classes, and the kids trying to grab a quick nap on the sofas and chairs in the main lobby were all familiar enough to make me feel as though i was just coming back to class after a few days off. then it happened. i don't know what sparked it at first -- it could have been a bit of overheard conversation, or the way someone was walking, but all of a sudden, i really looked at a couple of the students, and i felt the 8-10 years of reality slam down between who i am now and what i had felt when i first walked through the door this morning.

i don't know that all of them are as immature as they appeared on the surface, or even that where i'm standing is a much better place, but what i did feel was the difference in perspective that the intervening decade gave me. it was definitely an unusual feeling, but it also gave me a sense of pride, since despite some of the setbacks i've felt in the past few months, i have accomplished a lot and experienced a lot that i never even imagined when i was 18 and trying to figure out who i really was. yes, a lot of it flat-out sucked, and there are still moments when i feel like a fumbling, embarrassed teenager, but i still wouldn't trade my experiences for the path i thought i was going to follow at that point.

ok, i did notice one other thing -- the energy that most of these kids exuded (the ones not comatose -- it was, after all, only 10:30AM) was almost scary. i felt like an aged, winded antelope that had accidentally staggered into a pack of young cheetah cubs. *that* made me feel OLD. but that's ok. i may not have as much energy as i used to, but i have dedication, a goal, and a sense of commitment that i didn't have 10 years ago... and there's always caffeine. lots and lots and lots of caffeine.

m

How to search for a job:

1) find a job posting
2) realize that despite all warnings to the contrary, you have become complacent and not updated your resume within the last two years
3) panic
4) begin updating resume
5) realize that since current job (which you have held for the last 3.5 years) is for a company with a strict neutral reference policy. (for those of you that don't know, this means that representatives of the company may not provide information about current/former employees other than dates of employment and job title, etc. this is great for the company, as it reduces risk and liability, but it sucks because most potential employers want current employment references.)
6) panic
7) begin coming up with a list of former coworkers who may be willing to provide at least a personal reference.
8) as you begin contacting them, notice a link in a signature file (802.heaven), follow it to friend's blog, read while laughing uncontrollably, and think, "hey, i've been thinking of posting something again... maybe i should start one some time"
9) start searching for former web page address to use address again. fail to find. think, "hey, i bet i e-mailed it to some of my friends at some point." start searching 4+ years of e-mail archives. fail to find. furthermore, get "lost" re-reading old e-mail threads from friends you haven't talked to (despite repeated sincere promises) in months or even years. feel warm fuzzies and guilt at same time. observe how odd that particular combination is -- much like the hazy nostalgia/burning shame of your edited recollections of high school. realize you're way off track.
10) throw up hands and finish creating blog.
11) post.
12) realize that you have now wasted over 2 hours and you still have a half-finished e-mail to contact in step 8.
13) panic
14) throw up hands in disgust, write the evening off as a loss, and promise to do better tomorrow.

off to finish up steps 11-14. more soon