jr conlin's ink stained banana

i'm never really sure how to react when someone says "You got a new job? Congratulations!" i mean, i appreciate the thought (i assume it's along the lines of "You're pursuing your preferred career option! i'm happy for you") but being highly paranoid and overwhelmingly pessimistic, i can't help think that they're harboring other thoughts:

• "Wow, you managed to convince someone else you're actually worth hiring? Good Job!"
• "Oh Cool! You're Leaving!"
• "Yay! i get to ransack whatever you leave in your cube and put it up on ebay! Ca-CHING!"

There are others that use "Congrats!" as a mild expletive regarding their sudden burst in work load you're not going to be doing anymore, or somewhat pleading entre to hide in one of the boxes you're loading into the back of the car as well, but those are to be expected.

Thing is, when i find out someone is leaving, i'm a lot like everyone i'm usually fairly bummed about it. Sometimes for the workload/paranoid reasons, but mostly because it means i won't be able to bounce ideas off of that person as freely as i once was able to. i certainly wish them the best of luck, but i dunno, it just seems so.. well… prescriptive.

That's why i'm going to wish folks "Sheboygan!"

Granted wishing someone the tidings of a major lakeside city in Wisconsin is a tad unorthodox, and it may just be that someone recently traumatized by the residents of the 2005 13th ranked safest metro (possibly involving a rogue late trout, two under age co-eds, and a Jackie Mason impersonator) may not take it all that well, but it's just random enough that folks might appreciate not having to overly think it. They'll just presume (and rightly so) that i'm out of my mind and walk on to other adoring accolades and hardy Fare-Thee-Wells.

Well, unless they're equally insane and reply with something like "And a pleasant Muncie to you!".

No, i've not completely fallen of the face of the earth (although, i am mighty close to it). Unfortunately, "Paradise" does not include "plentiful free wireless connectivity". Some folks have such low standards for perfection. Add in the requirement that i interface with family members in a slightly more analog manner (Seriously, you wouldn't believe the reaction when i was sitting screeching 96K baud at them over the dinner table) and things are a bit off line.

Ah well, off to deal with the bright, yellow glowy thing in the sky that burnses the skins… (Hey, i'm a celtic guy in the tropics. We're not used to those levels of radiation and it's mighty hard to find an Aloha Burqua at the ABC shop.)

Sorry that i've been running silent lately. i've been busy with a bunch of things, with some interesting things coming down the pike.

That said, sitting at a mexican joint not too long ago, i realized that there was something i missed. Something that i haven't had in my life for years. i missed public access TV.

Ok, so it's not 100% "good" thing, but hey.

i've got satellite, which while it has lots of channels, it never had to strike a bargain with local government exchange stringing poles with wires for a channel where anyone with $50 can show up and have a show. i love those shows. Mostly because, let's face it, there's absolutely no other reason they have any sort of reason to be on.

My personal favorite of these are the "Current Event"/ talking heads kinda shows. Inevitably, these are a bunch of guys sitting around having an earnest discussion about the issues that matter.

"On my left, Professor Thomas Johnson, senior associate fellow at the Simmons Institute for Middle East Studies. On my right, Dr. Michael J. Phelps who just published the book 'Studies in Microbial Dynamics'. Thank you gentlemen for coming tonight. On to our first topic: How Can We Get Teenagers to Stop French Kissing Grizzly Bears?"

"Wait. What?"

"i agree, it's shocking. Teens locking lips and looking for caniform kanoodling. i blame the teddy bear manufacturing industry to drive unholy ursine desires. i can't see the fascination with pining for pinnipeds, but those teens are out there! Right Now! Their tongues thrust down salmon flavored throats!"

"Can… Can i talk about my book?"

Yeah, i miss that sort of quality TV.

Having seen this come up a few times, i'd like to spend some time defining a bunch of arbitrary measurements:

starting from the singular:

1. one
2. couple
3. few
4. some
5. handful
6. bunch
7. group
8. several
9. lot
10. mess
11. pile
12. ton
13. metric ton
14. crapload
15. assload
16. sh!tload
17. f#ckload*

Note, the -load suffixed groupings can be magnified by factors of ten by using the following prefixes:

1. holy
2. mother
3. gi-normous
4. f#cking*

Note that these prefixes can be applied in a non repetitive manner to further emphasize the magnitude of the grouping. (* at this level, any appropriate swear based conjunctive is equally valid and may be assumed to be "a surprisingly large amount.")

Allow me to provide some examples with translations:

We hope that this has aided your sense of abstract and arbitrary measurement.

Every day, i'm starting to dread four o'clock.

You see, at five o'clock, my wife calls me so we can head home (we car pool, partly to save the planet, but mostly so that way i can speed down the HOV lane laughing at the idiot in the Lamborghini stuck behind a Ford Fiesta). Those deep in valley culture who wish to deride me for leaving at five and are jealous that i have a life that doesn't involve cubical walls or dining on pop-tarts at 3AM instead of sticking out and getting the job done at work should be reminded that i have network access from home and unlike my cubical, i can play my home stereo as loud as i damn well please.

i look forward to the driving home, the laughing at slow moving people in expensive Italian penile enhancements, the eating of non-poptarts and other joys that come only from having a balanced work life. Of course, Murphy, realizing my penchant for such things, always sees fit to remind me who is in charge.

Inevitably, come the mid afternoon, something explodes. Well, something if i'm lucky. Quite often, it's more like "somethings" in multiple levels of combustion often reserved for expensive slow-motion reels for summer blockbuster releases. The sort of things where you fully expect to meet St. Peter by waving as you pass by, inverted, on-fire, and possibly leaving a smoking trail of once recognizable electronic bits. This, of course, culminates with the arrival of the blessed hour of departure denoted by the pleasant ring of my cellphone accenting the dulcimer tones of panic one reserves for being struck by an asteroid covered in dinosaurs armed with thermonuclear lasers.

Quite possibly on fire.

Both you, and the asteroid.

Hi JR.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!*rarr*bzzap*

i'm down in visitor parking.

AAAAAAH! FIRE!*bzzap*bzzap*OHGODHE'SGOTALASER

*sigh* Ok, well come down when you're ready

Ok, give me ten minutes or so. Love you.

Love you.

*rar*AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!*bzzap*

Does make one appreciate what Sam and Ralph used to go through.