Opened up Word here just to see what I would write. This is purely an exercise in “creative” writing. Not terribly creative so far, huh? Well, I always remembered this exercise from back in probably Junior High School, where you were just supposed to write whatever came into your head, even if it was total nonsense…which this obviously is. Was writing a blog entry on Michael Golden, and while words were coming out, and many things were being added to it, I just wasn’t feeling it. There didn’t seem to be anything inspired in it at all. It was a mere recitation of facts (second time in 2 days I’ve used that phrase, and spelled ‘recitation’ right each time too!), nothing exciting. Even listening to Hendrix and now vintage Sup-Pop era Soundgarden isn’t really inspiring me, although at least it’s good stuff to hear. And again, while this isn’t what one would term “creative“, at least I’m flowing with it, and it is coming out naturally. None of this is forced. None of this is any good, either, but…
Blog Post Soundtrack; Jimi Hendrix, Soundgarden
Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Suspicious White Powdery Substance
Working for the Post Office at the time of 9/11 was an interesting experience. As part of my morning wake-up routine, when the alarm goes off, I shut it off, grab the remote, and turn on the TV. Flipping thru the channels and seeing nothing but crap and garbage on channel after channel usually annoys me enough to wake me up fully and get me out of bed. For whatever reason, on that particular morning I never once turned on the TV. Bizarre but true. I had no knowledge of anything amiss until I got to work and heard everyone else talking about it. I spent the next few days on the phone back to New York trying to locate everyone and make sure they were OK. I’m pretty sure had I turned on the TV that morning and seen what was going on I never would have gone to work.
The next few days were very unusual. Las Vegas has one of the busiest airports in the world. With no tall buildings outside of The Strip, it’s possible to see for miles in any direction. Consequently, any look to the east usually shows 4 or 5 planes making there way here with many potential bankruptcy filers. However, in the aftermath of 9/11, with all air traffic grounded, the skies were eerily empty and quiet. It was very odd and disturbing to be delivering routes with neither sight nor sound of a jet.
Fast forward a little bit, and we suddenly had the anthrax scare going around. Coming right on the heels of the World Trade Center attacks, everyone had instantly become uber-paranoid about everything, so now we were all going to die from anthrax poisoning. We had a safety talk in my office about anthrax one day, so I came in the following day wearing a t-shirt from the thrash metal band Anthrax along with a tape of one of their albums for my Walkman (yes, this was that long ago). I told one of my supervisors I had some Anthrax as I showed him the cassette…yes, I showed it to a supervisor who I knew would appreciate the joke…
Well, the paranoia hadn’t quite been quelled yet. The main processing plant for the Post Office in Southern Nevada is right next to McCarran Airport. A huge facility with dozens, probably hundreds, of employees on any given day. On this particular given day, the entire plant had to be evacuated and everyone had to mill about in the parking lot for a couple of hours twiddling their thumbs due to the discovery of a suspicious white powdery substance. This meant that no mail for the entire valley could be processed or sorted, no trucks could be loaded or unloaded, and that a giant metaphorical monkey wrench had been thrown into the works of the Post Office. A HazMat team was called in, and eventually came to the stunning conclusion…
…that the suspicious white powdery substance…
…that had been discovered…
…IN THE BREAK ROOM…
…was Coffee-Mate.
Ladies and gentleman, I’m sure all of you were given a brain. Please try using it.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Morphine, The Hives, Van Halen, Fu Manchu, Blur, Mudhoney, AC/DC, Bad Radio, A Perfect Circle, John Lee Hooker, System Of A Down, Prong, Pearl Jam, Desert Sessions, Rollins Band, Henny Youngman, Queens Of The Stone Age, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Nick Oliveri, Pink Floyd
The next few days were very unusual. Las Vegas has one of the busiest airports in the world. With no tall buildings outside of The Strip, it’s possible to see for miles in any direction. Consequently, any look to the east usually shows 4 or 5 planes making there way here with many potential bankruptcy filers. However, in the aftermath of 9/11, with all air traffic grounded, the skies were eerily empty and quiet. It was very odd and disturbing to be delivering routes with neither sight nor sound of a jet.
Fast forward a little bit, and we suddenly had the anthrax scare going around. Coming right on the heels of the World Trade Center attacks, everyone had instantly become uber-paranoid about everything, so now we were all going to die from anthrax poisoning. We had a safety talk in my office about anthrax one day, so I came in the following day wearing a t-shirt from the thrash metal band Anthrax along with a tape of one of their albums for my Walkman (yes, this was that long ago). I told one of my supervisors I had some Anthrax as I showed him the cassette…yes, I showed it to a supervisor who I knew would appreciate the joke…
Well, the paranoia hadn’t quite been quelled yet. The main processing plant for the Post Office in Southern Nevada is right next to McCarran Airport. A huge facility with dozens, probably hundreds, of employees on any given day. On this particular given day, the entire plant had to be evacuated and everyone had to mill about in the parking lot for a couple of hours twiddling their thumbs due to the discovery of a suspicious white powdery substance. This meant that no mail for the entire valley could be processed or sorted, no trucks could be loaded or unloaded, and that a giant metaphorical monkey wrench had been thrown into the works of the Post Office. A HazMat team was called in, and eventually came to the stunning conclusion…
…that the suspicious white powdery substance…
…that had been discovered…
…IN THE BREAK ROOM…
…was Coffee-Mate.
Ladies and gentleman, I’m sure all of you were given a brain. Please try using it.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Morphine, The Hives, Van Halen, Fu Manchu, Blur, Mudhoney, AC/DC, Bad Radio, A Perfect Circle, John Lee Hooker, System Of A Down, Prong, Pearl Jam, Desert Sessions, Rollins Band, Henny Youngman, Queens Of The Stone Age, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Nick Oliveri, Pink Floyd
Sunday, January 31, 2010
I Told You Never To Call Me Here
When I first transferred out to Henderson, NV, 10 years ago now (!), this was the fastest growing city in the United States. Not that Las Vegas had run out of room, but there was definitely more undeveloped area in Henderson that was very quickly BECOMING developed. Builders couldn’t put up houses fast enough. Everything was sold for months before it had even had a foundation poured. And if you had an existing home for sale, most of the time you couldn’t plant the “For Sale” sign in the ground, because it was already sold before you ever got that far. New streets were being opened every day, and the mapmakers were in a tizzy with the incredibly rapid change in the topography.
This made for interesting times as a mailman. You had no idea how long a route would take you, because each day you came to work, another dozen or so deliveries were suddenly on your route, because a new section had been finished, and people were already moving in. Often, mail would start showing up to addresses that didn’t even exist yet, but sooner or later would. Since every day was a journey of address discovery, it was difficult to gauge how late you’d be working. With this being a desert and all, and it tending to go over 110 degrees on a regular basis for most of June, July and August, many people weren’t interested in working beyond 8 hours in a day, and so opted not to be on the overtime desired list in the summer months.
As a new transfer, you go to the bottom of the seniority list, as far as within that office. You keep your Post Office time, you’re just at the bottom of the barrel where you are now. Consequently, you don’t have a choice as far as wanting to work OT or not. So there were a dozen or so people at any given time who were Part Time Flexible (PTF) employees whose hours were pretty much limited by Federal laws that say you can’t work over 60 hours in a week. Very often, I’d be carrying until 6PM after starting at 7AM, then coming back to the office and doing some clean-up work on mail that needed to be forwarded, returned as attempted unknown, insufficient address, etc.
The office I work out of is huge, as it currently houses nearly 100 different routes in it. When it was late at night in the office, and there were maybe 8 PTF’s and a supervisor left in the building , you could easily hear the doors open signaling the return of another weary carrier. Especially on this one night…
Having only been there a few months at the time, I was working late one night when the doors burst open and in came a carrier screaming at the top of his lungs. Many of the carriers in my office are of Filipino descent. This one in particular had a very thick accent. I, along with anyone else remaining in the office, looked up to see what was going on. The man continued walking into the office, and he was yelling into his phone, “I told you NEVER to call me here, Goddammit! You fu@$%ng bitch, I going to KILL you! You stupid woman…”
We collectively stopped breathing, let alone working. Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, we all sat there stunned as the raving and ranting continued for a few more seconds. He walked further into the office, continuing to yell into his phone, until…
…his phone RANG…
…because he hadn’t actually been ON it…
…and before anyone could even figure out what had happened, let alone have time to say anything, in mid-stride he instantly slipped into a lovey-dovey voice, complete with thick Filipino accent, and sweetly said “Hi Honeeeeeyyy…”
As soon as we realized we’d all been reeled in like a bunch of fish in Lake Mead, our respect level for him went thru the roof.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Soulfly, The White Stripes, The Doors, Minutemen, Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix, Corrosion Of Conformity, Fear Factory, Tricky, Little Richard, Booker T. & The Mg’s, Bjork, Nick Oliveri, Foo Fighters, Metallica vs. Britney Spears, Dead Milkmen, Beastie Boys, Fugazi
This made for interesting times as a mailman. You had no idea how long a route would take you, because each day you came to work, another dozen or so deliveries were suddenly on your route, because a new section had been finished, and people were already moving in. Often, mail would start showing up to addresses that didn’t even exist yet, but sooner or later would. Since every day was a journey of address discovery, it was difficult to gauge how late you’d be working. With this being a desert and all, and it tending to go over 110 degrees on a regular basis for most of June, July and August, many people weren’t interested in working beyond 8 hours in a day, and so opted not to be on the overtime desired list in the summer months.
As a new transfer, you go to the bottom of the seniority list, as far as within that office. You keep your Post Office time, you’re just at the bottom of the barrel where you are now. Consequently, you don’t have a choice as far as wanting to work OT or not. So there were a dozen or so people at any given time who were Part Time Flexible (PTF) employees whose hours were pretty much limited by Federal laws that say you can’t work over 60 hours in a week. Very often, I’d be carrying until 6PM after starting at 7AM, then coming back to the office and doing some clean-up work on mail that needed to be forwarded, returned as attempted unknown, insufficient address, etc.
The office I work out of is huge, as it currently houses nearly 100 different routes in it. When it was late at night in the office, and there were maybe 8 PTF’s and a supervisor left in the building , you could easily hear the doors open signaling the return of another weary carrier. Especially on this one night…
Having only been there a few months at the time, I was working late one night when the doors burst open and in came a carrier screaming at the top of his lungs. Many of the carriers in my office are of Filipino descent. This one in particular had a very thick accent. I, along with anyone else remaining in the office, looked up to see what was going on. The man continued walking into the office, and he was yelling into his phone, “I told you NEVER to call me here, Goddammit! You fu@$%ng bitch, I going to KILL you! You stupid woman…”
We collectively stopped breathing, let alone working. Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, we all sat there stunned as the raving and ranting continued for a few more seconds. He walked further into the office, continuing to yell into his phone, until…
…his phone RANG…
…because he hadn’t actually been ON it…
…and before anyone could even figure out what had happened, let alone have time to say anything, in mid-stride he instantly slipped into a lovey-dovey voice, complete with thick Filipino accent, and sweetly said “Hi Honeeeeeyyy…”
As soon as we realized we’d all been reeled in like a bunch of fish in Lake Mead, our respect level for him went thru the roof.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Soulfly, The White Stripes, The Doors, Minutemen, Black Sabbath, Jimi Hendrix, Corrosion Of Conformity, Fear Factory, Tricky, Little Richard, Booker T. & The Mg’s, Bjork, Nick Oliveri, Foo Fighters, Metallica vs. Britney Spears, Dead Milkmen, Beastie Boys, Fugazi
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
I'm The Easter Bunny
As a mailman, I have to wear a uniform every day. Not exactly the height of fashion, but it seems to serve it's purpose as far as letting people know just who I am and what I do. Well, most people...
I was delivering a part of town that I hadn't been to in at least 5 years. I was carrying part of someone else's route in addition to my own route this particular day. It was a residential area, so it has one of those cluster boxes for every 10 or so houses. I pulled up to the box driving my rather conspicuously marked postal vehicle, and got out wearing my rather blatantly marked uniform. I then proceeded to spend 4 or 5 minutes delivering mail at the box. Seems dull and drab so far, right?
The entire time this was going on, right across the street sat an older woman. Her garage door was open, it was a nice sunny day, and I just figured she was watching the world go by and enjoying life. As I finished locking up the box and walking around the truck to get back in and drive off to the next one, she walked halfway down her drive and got my attention. She looked at me, and in all seriousness, asked, "Are you the mailman?"
I stopped dead in my tracks. I can be a little forgetful at times, so, just to be sure, I looked down and, lo and behold, I had indeed remembered to put my uniform on that day...both shirt AND pants...so as I looked back up at her, with numerous responses running thru my head, I went with what seemed the safest (i.e., least offensive), which was, "I sure hope so!" There was a bit of a hesitation on her part, which I took as my cue to get in the truck and drive off to the next box. I figured if that was how the conversation began, it wasn't going to get any better...
One of the things I DIDN'T say to her was, "No lady, I'm the fu%@#n' Easter Bunny!"
Blog Post Soundtrack; Cheech & Chong, Pearl Jam, Zeke, Bow Wow Wow, Iron Maiden
I was delivering a part of town that I hadn't been to in at least 5 years. I was carrying part of someone else's route in addition to my own route this particular day. It was a residential area, so it has one of those cluster boxes for every 10 or so houses. I pulled up to the box driving my rather conspicuously marked postal vehicle, and got out wearing my rather blatantly marked uniform. I then proceeded to spend 4 or 5 minutes delivering mail at the box. Seems dull and drab so far, right?
The entire time this was going on, right across the street sat an older woman. Her garage door was open, it was a nice sunny day, and I just figured she was watching the world go by and enjoying life. As I finished locking up the box and walking around the truck to get back in and drive off to the next one, she walked halfway down her drive and got my attention. She looked at me, and in all seriousness, asked, "Are you the mailman?"
I stopped dead in my tracks. I can be a little forgetful at times, so, just to be sure, I looked down and, lo and behold, I had indeed remembered to put my uniform on that day...both shirt AND pants...so as I looked back up at her, with numerous responses running thru my head, I went with what seemed the safest (i.e., least offensive), which was, "I sure hope so!" There was a bit of a hesitation on her part, which I took as my cue to get in the truck and drive off to the next box. I figured if that was how the conversation began, it wasn't going to get any better...
One of the things I DIDN'T say to her was, "No lady, I'm the fu%@#n' Easter Bunny!"
Blog Post Soundtrack; Cheech & Chong, Pearl Jam, Zeke, Bow Wow Wow, Iron Maiden
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Smiley Sam, Ross Noble, And Twitter
I find myself taking full advantage of Twitter as a place to put down all those wacky random thoughts I have as the day goes on. Some of them have had many occasions to be repeated over the years, and I'm finally having a place to put them. Having an iPhone with me at all times makes it easier to save these little "gems", and I use that word wrongly, for posterity. No longer will these nuggets of insanity be blurted out and instantly lost in the ether, now they can be saved so historians can analyze them to see just how insane I really was. Por ejemplo, one of my favorites over the years has been, "Why do they call it common sense when it's so UNcommon?" Working for the Post Office, I usually have several occasions on a daily basis to utter this, either aloud or internally. Now, thru the magic of the iPhone and Twitter, I just posted it the other day. Wasn't long after that an artist whose work I've enjoyed over the years, Jill Thompson, retweeted my post, as she must have found it amusing. Always nice to have that sort of validation from someone whose talents you admire. Seeing as how she has illustrated works from the likes of Neil Gaiman (Sandman) and Grant Morrison (The Invisibles), as well as dozens of others over the years, yeah, it made my New Year's Eve pretty nice. Thanks Jill!
Fast not-too-far-forward to New Year's Day, and comedian Ross Noble, who I had mostly known for years from Just A Minute until recently, was encouraging people to make interesting pictures with his Smiley Sam The Smiling Ham (the explanation would take too long...read about it on his Twitter page http://twitter.com/realrossnoble --I'd give you an actual link, but for some reason I can't seem to do that on Blogger, and I've been trying for the last 10 minutes to figure it out; it just won't let me do it, despite following their instructions). So I printed out a pic of Sam, cut out the face, and taped it to the head of a really cool hand made clown my Mom had given me for X-Mas. She makes these herself, and they get sold in the gift shop of the local hospital she volunteers at. For some reason, the orange one hadn't moved (all the others come and go pretty quick), so I had mentioned to her she should send it to me for X-Mas (she still lives in New York, while I'm coming up on 10 years out here in Las Vegas). The funny thing is, even though she makes these herself, she's a little creeped out by them. I think it's terrific, and it sits proudly on an entertainment center/bookshelf here in my home office. She knew I really liked it based on the fact that it sits next to a picture I took of deceased race car driver Greg Moore and his still alive father Ric, that both had signed for me many years ago. I even presented both with their own copies of the photo, just because I thought it was a nice shot of the close pair.
After taping Smiley Sam's ham-face to the clown's head, I snapped a picture of it (again, using the iPhone; damn thing does everything...), and sent it to Ross via Twitter. This is another thing I enjoy about Twitter. People I admire that I normally would have no other means of ever having any contact with are suddenly reasonably accessible. Ross lives in the UK, but spends a large amount of time travelling the Eastern Hemishpere, be it the rest of Europe, Australia, New Zealand, and so on. He's got various travel programs available, as well as tour documentaries on his stand-up comedy DVD's (of which I have a few now, thanks to Steve!).
Maybe an hour after tweeting the picture, I see a post from Ross that says, "This Is no question the most scary thing I have ever seen." That was followed by a link, which I clicked, seeing as how I was curious as to what could have a mind as brillantly unstable as his running scared. The link caught me completely by surprise, as it led to this;
http://img129.yfrog.com/i/rxs.jpg/
Needless to say, seeing that it was my own picture that had scared him made me laugh quite hard. I was quite pleased that I'd apparently made an impression on him. Not really sure how my Mom is going to react when she reads this, though...
When Ross does shows, at the intermission, people often leave objects on the stage, so that when he comes back on, he just starts commenting on whatever interests him. His shows are filled more with off the cuff stream of consciousness than actual material, which is his true genius. The man is just funny, with nothing prepared. He HAS very funny material, it just gets relegated behind the tangents he goes off on, which are also extremely funny, and that's why he's so good on Just A Minute. So, if he ever does any shows in the United States (and I'm not sure if scaring him like this will help...), I'm bringing the clown with me to leave on stage in the interval. Not sure if I should re-tape Smiley Sam's face on or not...
Thanks Ross, and thanks/sorry Mom! (BTW, as of this writing, Ross' posting of my pic has had nearly 4,000 hits, in less than 24 hours...lotta weirdos out there...)
Update; it's now about 5:45 AM on Sun the 3rd of Jan, and it seems Ross is still enjoying Smiley Sam The Clown Ham. A comedian friend of his, Jason Manford, was apparently distressed about gaining some weight. Ross, in an effort to make him feel better, started tweeting him pics of Smiley Sam, including mine...
twitter.com/realrossnoble @Jason_Manford how about this http://yfrog.com/3gbd3cj
Twitter is so much fun...
Blog Post Soundtrack; Allman Brothers, The New York Dolls, The Doors, The Smiths, Fear Factory, Faith No More, Fu Manchu, Orange 9MM, Pantera, Black Sabbath, Son House, Corrosion Of Conformity, Prong, a track from Mel Brooks' 1968 movie The Producers, Les Claypool Frog Brigade, Clutch, Public Image Ltd.
Fast not-too-far-forward to New Year's Day, and comedian Ross Noble, who I had mostly known for years from Just A Minute until recently, was encouraging people to make interesting pictures with his Smiley Sam The Smiling Ham (the explanation would take too long...read about it on his Twitter page http://twitter.com/realrossnoble --I'd give you an actual link, but for some reason I can't seem to do that on Blogger, and I've been trying for the last 10 minutes to figure it out; it just won't let me do it, despite following their instructions). So I printed out a pic of Sam, cut out the face, and taped it to the head of a really cool hand made clown my Mom had given me for X-Mas. She makes these herself, and they get sold in the gift shop of the local hospital she volunteers at. For some reason, the orange one hadn't moved (all the others come and go pretty quick), so I had mentioned to her she should send it to me for X-Mas (she still lives in New York, while I'm coming up on 10 years out here in Las Vegas). The funny thing is, even though she makes these herself, she's a little creeped out by them. I think it's terrific, and it sits proudly on an entertainment center/bookshelf here in my home office. She knew I really liked it based on the fact that it sits next to a picture I took of deceased race car driver Greg Moore and his still alive father Ric, that both had signed for me many years ago. I even presented both with their own copies of the photo, just because I thought it was a nice shot of the close pair.
After taping Smiley Sam's ham-face to the clown's head, I snapped a picture of it (again, using the iPhone; damn thing does everything...), and sent it to Ross via Twitter. This is another thing I enjoy about Twitter. People I admire that I normally would have no other means of ever having any contact with are suddenly reasonably accessible. Ross lives in the UK, but spends a large amount of time travelling the Eastern Hemishpere, be it the rest of Europe, Australia, New Zealand, and so on. He's got various travel programs available, as well as tour documentaries on his stand-up comedy DVD's (of which I have a few now, thanks to Steve!).
Maybe an hour after tweeting the picture, I see a post from Ross that says, "This Is no question the most scary thing I have ever seen." That was followed by a link, which I clicked, seeing as how I was curious as to what could have a mind as brillantly unstable as his running scared. The link caught me completely by surprise, as it led to this;
http://img129.yfrog.com/i/rxs.jpg/
Needless to say, seeing that it was my own picture that had scared him made me laugh quite hard. I was quite pleased that I'd apparently made an impression on him. Not really sure how my Mom is going to react when she reads this, though...
When Ross does shows, at the intermission, people often leave objects on the stage, so that when he comes back on, he just starts commenting on whatever interests him. His shows are filled more with off the cuff stream of consciousness than actual material, which is his true genius. The man is just funny, with nothing prepared. He HAS very funny material, it just gets relegated behind the tangents he goes off on, which are also extremely funny, and that's why he's so good on Just A Minute. So, if he ever does any shows in the United States (and I'm not sure if scaring him like this will help...), I'm bringing the clown with me to leave on stage in the interval. Not sure if I should re-tape Smiley Sam's face on or not...
Thanks Ross, and thanks/sorry Mom! (BTW, as of this writing, Ross' posting of my pic has had nearly 4,000 hits, in less than 24 hours...lotta weirdos out there...)
Update; it's now about 5:45 AM on Sun the 3rd of Jan, and it seems Ross is still enjoying Smiley Sam The Clown Ham. A comedian friend of his, Jason Manford, was apparently distressed about gaining some weight. Ross, in an effort to make him feel better, started tweeting him pics of Smiley Sam, including mine...
twitter.com/realrossnoble @Jason_Manford how about this http://yfrog.com/3gbd3cj
Twitter is so much fun...
Blog Post Soundtrack; Allman Brothers, The New York Dolls, The Doors, The Smiths, Fear Factory, Faith No More, Fu Manchu, Orange 9MM, Pantera, Black Sabbath, Son House, Corrosion Of Conformity, Prong, a track from Mel Brooks' 1968 movie The Producers, Les Claypool Frog Brigade, Clutch, Public Image Ltd.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Action-Figureophobia
The movie Arachnophobia was on some channel the other nite, stopped and watched a couple minutes between periods of some hockey game I was watching. While not anything I'm ever going to own on DVD, I do remember liking it. I had gone to see it in the theaters with some friends, which reminded me of the following story.
There was quite the marketing push for this film in the summer of 1990. A quick check of IMDB reveals it came out almost exactly on my 19th birthday. For weeks we kept seeing commercials for this 'comedy' film about a bunch of spiders and the people who were freaked out by them. Seeing as how it starred Jeff Daniels, who I like as an actor (except for Dumb & Dumber; how could he stoop so low?), it seemed like something good to go see.
Either late the nite before the official opening, or one-nite-only a week before the actual opening weekend, there was a sneak preview showing of the film. This is important only from the standpoint of up until the actual release weekend of the film, it was constantly being billed as a comedy. The commercials were edited in a way as to make this look alomst like a goofy 50's horror flick, with that edge of silliness to it that would make the horror aspect seem quaint.
Upon actually seeing the film, in a very dark theater, turns out the comedy aspect was extremely minimal compared to the creepy-crawly horror aspect. I'm not afraid of spiders, but I don't particularly enjoy them either. My friend who had driven us to the movie that nite, however, apparently had an extreme dislike of the creepy little guys, so much so that he was a little tense upon exiting the theater.
We had all enjoyed the movie, we just felt that we might have enjoyed it more had it been properly billed as the horror-first film that it really was. As we get into the car, with me in the seat directly behind the driver, I happen to look down and see a little G.I. Joe type action figure on the floor, and the brain spots an opportunity for comedy. Well, comedy for me, anyway...
While conversation continues about the film as we prepare to drive off, I carefully position the arms and legs of the figure so as to be as outstretched as possible, roughly resembling the size of the angry oversized spiders of the film we'd just seen. Just as my friend is about to start the car, I subtly placed the figure on his shoulder right at the nape of his neck, so that some of it was actually touching his skin. As for his reaction, let's just say it's a good thing I didn't do this while we were moving along on the road. Upon further reflection, it's possible the car might have jerked LESS violently had we actually been moving...
Oddly enough, immediately after the official Friday opening nite, the marketing campaign was switched to emphasize the fact that this was more of a straight-up horror flick. I like to think my little escapde in the parking lot had something to do with this.
Blog Post Soundtrack; The White Stripes, Metallica, Brant Bjork, Prong, Faith No More, Deftones, Rage Against The Machine (love that they got the X-Mas #1 in the UK, BTW)
There was quite the marketing push for this film in the summer of 1990. A quick check of IMDB reveals it came out almost exactly on my 19th birthday. For weeks we kept seeing commercials for this 'comedy' film about a bunch of spiders and the people who were freaked out by them. Seeing as how it starred Jeff Daniels, who I like as an actor (except for Dumb & Dumber; how could he stoop so low?), it seemed like something good to go see.
Either late the nite before the official opening, or one-nite-only a week before the actual opening weekend, there was a sneak preview showing of the film. This is important only from the standpoint of up until the actual release weekend of the film, it was constantly being billed as a comedy. The commercials were edited in a way as to make this look alomst like a goofy 50's horror flick, with that edge of silliness to it that would make the horror aspect seem quaint.
Upon actually seeing the film, in a very dark theater, turns out the comedy aspect was extremely minimal compared to the creepy-crawly horror aspect. I'm not afraid of spiders, but I don't particularly enjoy them either. My friend who had driven us to the movie that nite, however, apparently had an extreme dislike of the creepy little guys, so much so that he was a little tense upon exiting the theater.
We had all enjoyed the movie, we just felt that we might have enjoyed it more had it been properly billed as the horror-first film that it really was. As we get into the car, with me in the seat directly behind the driver, I happen to look down and see a little G.I. Joe type action figure on the floor, and the brain spots an opportunity for comedy. Well, comedy for me, anyway...
While conversation continues about the film as we prepare to drive off, I carefully position the arms and legs of the figure so as to be as outstretched as possible, roughly resembling the size of the angry oversized spiders of the film we'd just seen. Just as my friend is about to start the car, I subtly placed the figure on his shoulder right at the nape of his neck, so that some of it was actually touching his skin. As for his reaction, let's just say it's a good thing I didn't do this while we were moving along on the road. Upon further reflection, it's possible the car might have jerked LESS violently had we actually been moving...
Oddly enough, immediately after the official Friday opening nite, the marketing campaign was switched to emphasize the fact that this was more of a straight-up horror flick. I like to think my little escapde in the parking lot had something to do with this.
Blog Post Soundtrack; The White Stripes, Metallica, Brant Bjork, Prong, Faith No More, Deftones, Rage Against The Machine (love that they got the X-Mas #1 in the UK, BTW)
Sunday, October 4, 2009
You Do What You Gotta Do
Here's another Post Office story. It may be in slightly-off taste, so it's remotely possible that this may bother someone, in which case, I suggest doing two things. 1.) Don't read any further, and 2.) take a look at the world around you and realize that life's too short to be offended by petty stuff. Now then, on with our show!
I've been a mailman for quite a while now (14 years this month, matter of fact...happy anniversary to me!), so I've encountered many different situations. In talking with a gentleman a couple days ago at one of the apartment complexes (complecies?) I deliver to, I was reminded of this incident.
I started out carrying mail in Roslyn Heights, which is on Long Island, a fairly affluent suburb of New York City. It's a predominantly upper middle class residential area, with each house being kinda large, and a little bit of property as well. While my office only had about 15 routes in it, it covered a decent amount of territory geographically speaking.
Since this was an area of New York, we were subject to the phenomenon known as winter (something basically unheard of out here in the greater Las Vegas area). With a 7AM start time, you were generally leaving the office to go to the street at 9:30 or so, on average. With an 8 hour day ending at 3:30PM, this meant roughly 5 and change hours out in the cold, damp, NY winter weather. Sounds like fun so far, right?
And don't think the vehicle offered any solace from the elements. While you may have been shielded from any falling rain or snow, the little tin LLV's (Long Life Vehicles, as the small boxey-shaped Postal Vehicles are known) are practically incapable of generating any heat. You needed to have the vehicle running for a good 10 minutes before the engine (and I use that word loosely) started to produce anything remotely resembling warmth in the cabin. But you never had to drive for more than a few seconds at a time to get from a parking spot to your next delivery section's parking spot. Only the trips to and from the routes in the mornings and afternoons involved a journey of a few minutes or so.
Now, with this being a mostly residential area, and really no business section anywhere within range of the routes, finding a place to go to the bathroom during the day, if necessary, could be interesting. You couldn't just drive for a minute and pop in the local Target to use their restroom. And it was even more of a challenge for someone with my particular assignment. I didn't have one permanent route, I had a set of 5 that I filled in for on those carrier's days off. And if that person came in on their day off to work overtime, I got bumped to a different route. Consequently, doing a route at most once a week, it was difficult to get to know anyone on the routes well enough to be comfortable with asking to be able to use the bathroom in their home.
Basically, you had to just do your best to make sure you weren't going to have to do anything over the course of the day. Or, you had to be somewhat resourceful if you did need to do anything. Most of the "male" carriers (yes, we've all done that joke a thousand times...) would just carry a bottle around in the truck, for the occasional time that it was necessary. The women were pretty much forced to go to someone's house, I guess. I'll have to ask in my current office if any females are from cold weather regions, and what they did in those situations. 95% of our office is from somewhere else. Very few Vegas-area carriers started here. We're all from somewhere else.
Anyway, in filling in for one of the guys, one day I got in the truck in his route, and found the bottle he kept in it, with a small sample of liquid in it, that he must have just forgotten to take out of the truck the day before. I just smiled, tucked it under the seat, and spotted an opportunity for comedy.
Upon this carrier's return to work the following day, I told him, across the workroom floor, with a very serious and straight face, that I hoped he didn't mind, but I'd gotten real thirsty at some point yesterday, and I had some of that lemonade he kept in that bottle in the truck. In the midst of everyone else laughing, shaking their heads, and/or having disgusted looks on their faces, this carrier's eyes got very wide, as he knew immediately what bottle I was referring to, and was very afraid I'd actually done this! I kept that straight face for a few seconds, as he stood there open-mouthed, then let him off the hook, informing him that while I may look stupid, that's only because I am...wait, that's not right...
Blog Post Soundtrack: Probot, The Dandy Warhols, Pink Floyd, Kyuss, The Minutemen, The Doors, Queens Of The Stone Age, Monty Python, Led Zeppelin, Zeke, Fu Manchu
I've been a mailman for quite a while now (14 years this month, matter of fact...happy anniversary to me!), so I've encountered many different situations. In talking with a gentleman a couple days ago at one of the apartment complexes (complecies?) I deliver to, I was reminded of this incident.
I started out carrying mail in Roslyn Heights, which is on Long Island, a fairly affluent suburb of New York City. It's a predominantly upper middle class residential area, with each house being kinda large, and a little bit of property as well. While my office only had about 15 routes in it, it covered a decent amount of territory geographically speaking.
Since this was an area of New York, we were subject to the phenomenon known as winter (something basically unheard of out here in the greater Las Vegas area). With a 7AM start time, you were generally leaving the office to go to the street at 9:30 or so, on average. With an 8 hour day ending at 3:30PM, this meant roughly 5 and change hours out in the cold, damp, NY winter weather. Sounds like fun so far, right?
And don't think the vehicle offered any solace from the elements. While you may have been shielded from any falling rain or snow, the little tin LLV's (Long Life Vehicles, as the small boxey-shaped Postal Vehicles are known) are practically incapable of generating any heat. You needed to have the vehicle running for a good 10 minutes before the engine (and I use that word loosely) started to produce anything remotely resembling warmth in the cabin. But you never had to drive for more than a few seconds at a time to get from a parking spot to your next delivery section's parking spot. Only the trips to and from the routes in the mornings and afternoons involved a journey of a few minutes or so.
Now, with this being a mostly residential area, and really no business section anywhere within range of the routes, finding a place to go to the bathroom during the day, if necessary, could be interesting. You couldn't just drive for a minute and pop in the local Target to use their restroom. And it was even more of a challenge for someone with my particular assignment. I didn't have one permanent route, I had a set of 5 that I filled in for on those carrier's days off. And if that person came in on their day off to work overtime, I got bumped to a different route. Consequently, doing a route at most once a week, it was difficult to get to know anyone on the routes well enough to be comfortable with asking to be able to use the bathroom in their home.
Basically, you had to just do your best to make sure you weren't going to have to do anything over the course of the day. Or, you had to be somewhat resourceful if you did need to do anything. Most of the "male" carriers (yes, we've all done that joke a thousand times...) would just carry a bottle around in the truck, for the occasional time that it was necessary. The women were pretty much forced to go to someone's house, I guess. I'll have to ask in my current office if any females are from cold weather regions, and what they did in those situations. 95% of our office is from somewhere else. Very few Vegas-area carriers started here. We're all from somewhere else.
Anyway, in filling in for one of the guys, one day I got in the truck in his route, and found the bottle he kept in it, with a small sample of liquid in it, that he must have just forgotten to take out of the truck the day before. I just smiled, tucked it under the seat, and spotted an opportunity for comedy.
Upon this carrier's return to work the following day, I told him, across the workroom floor, with a very serious and straight face, that I hoped he didn't mind, but I'd gotten real thirsty at some point yesterday, and I had some of that lemonade he kept in that bottle in the truck. In the midst of everyone else laughing, shaking their heads, and/or having disgusted looks on their faces, this carrier's eyes got very wide, as he knew immediately what bottle I was referring to, and was very afraid I'd actually done this! I kept that straight face for a few seconds, as he stood there open-mouthed, then let him off the hook, informing him that while I may look stupid, that's only because I am...wait, that's not right...
Blog Post Soundtrack: Probot, The Dandy Warhols, Pink Floyd, Kyuss, The Minutemen, The Doors, Queens Of The Stone Age, Monty Python, Led Zeppelin, Zeke, Fu Manchu
Friday, September 25, 2009
I Like Some Noise While I'm Sleeping
Over the course of my working day I get to see many cool people, and in talking briefly here and there, I get reminded of stories. Don't ask me how this one came up, but here's a good one...
Back in the summer of 1994, I was working at Barnes & Noble in the stockroom. I unloaded trucks, entered inventory into the system, did some light maintenance work too. Two of my favorite bands were touring concurrently, and of course both were going to be in the vicinity on consecutive nights.
Soundgarden was playing in Manhattan on a Thursday evening. I worked that day, then went home, changed, picked up my friends, and we drove into the city for the show. I was living in Queens at the time, so although it was geographically close to Manhattan, NYC traffic is, well, NYC traffic.
So we get to the show, which of course we were looking forward to. They were playing at The NY State Armory, which none of us had ever seen a show at before. No one could remember a show ever being there at all. Turns out, there was a reason for that.
When you go see shows in clubs, it typically is hot. Lots of bodies jumping around in a small, dark, confined, not-very-well ventilated space, usually produces an excess of warmth that tends to be uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Of course, that same description applies to any summer day in NYC as well, so just imagine it that much more uncomfortable, but still tolerable. It's easier to put up with when there's a good band onstage.
As to the reason no one could remember a show ever having been done there by anyone; there wasn't. Why? Because part-way thru this Soundgarden show, it was becoming increasingly apparent that this venue was not designed to hold this many bodies in it at one time. After the initial burst of energy from the band hitting the stage, the crowd became rather subdued, due to the oppressiveness of the heat. There really wasn't much movement from anyone on the floor, because it was kind of exhausting just standing there. I'm pretty sure there was even a cloud forming above us in the venue due to all the heat and humidity. At one point, even Chris Cornell, Soundgarden's singer, thanked the crowd for being at the show, remarking something to the effect of they knew it was ridiculously hot, even for a concert.
Having seen Soundgarden a couple years earlier with some of the same friends, we knew that when Kim Thayil, their guitarist, propped his guitar onto the backdrop, feedback reverberating loudly and repeatedly throughout the venue, it was our cue to go. Last time they did that, the lights stayed out, so everyone expected the band to come back onstage for more. A good 5 to 10 feedback-filled minutes later, the house lights came up, and we let out a collective groan as we now knew the show was over. Having learned our lesson, as soon as he propped up the guitar and left the stage this time, we left the sauna we were in and bolted for the (relatively) cool air of a NYC summer night, leaving behind most of the crowd who, like us the previous concert, were hoping for more. Never had we been so happy to get into 85 degree air with 85 percent humidity, because it was an Arctic breeze compared to the interior of the NY State Armory. Drained and dehydrated, we made our way back to the car for the journey home. I must have made it to bed sometime after midnight, maybe closer to 1AM. The only problem was, this was Thursday night, and I still had to go to work on Friday.
Now, having been at work since 8AM (maybe earlier, I can't remember) Friday, I left around 3PM to go get a different friend. Him and I, along with 2 of his buddies, were going to see Metallica in Middletown, NY, that night. Suicidal Tendencies and Danzig were opening, so we kinda wanted to see the whole bill, as we liked all of them. Getting to Middletown involved a drive of between 90 minutes and 2 hours, and if I'm sitting still for that long, especially having worked and been up half the previous night at a physically exhausting concert, I'm gonna fall asleep. Even if I'm the one driving.
Somewhere along the gently winding, soothing, calmingly flat road that is the Taconic State Parkway, I know I woke up at about 60 MPH, and was quickly startled to full alertness when I realized I was not driving in the same lane as I had been prior to falling asleep at the wheel. Since all 3 of my passengers were completely passed out, no one but me noticed this, so I was the only one who had a heartbeat racing at breakneck speed. While I was still very tired, the rush of adrenalin from this incident was enough to keep me awake for the rest of the journey.
We weren't in time to catch Suicidal Tendencies from the beginning. In fact, I think we walked into the Orange County Fairgrounds near the end of their set. It was time to decide where we wanted to be for the show. As this is a horse racing track, the stage was set up on the infield of the track, the home stretch was the floor for the crowd, and the seats lining the home stretch were also available for those who wanted to sit. Say, me, for instance.
Even though this was an outdoor, open-air concert, and we were sitting about 20 rows up, plus had the width of the track between us and the stage, the noise level was still plenty high. Danzig came onstage, and gave a great show, performing all songs that I really liked, including a couple of fairly obscure ones from his catalog. I was eventually able to get a recording of this show later on, so I can still enjoy it today on my iPod.
After Danzig left the stage, I was still feeling pretty good all in all, and was fairly psyched to be seeing Metallica. We were having a good time, enjoying the show, the weather was nice, our seats were pretty good, things were fine. Metallica were 3 years on from their self-titled radio-friendly megahit album, which I personally found extremely disappointing. At the time it came out, I nearly chucked the tape I made off the CD out the window of my car upon first listen. I gave it more of a chance, but to this day, there's really only 3 or 4 songs from that album I can listen to, and those rank at the very bottom of a "songs I like the most from Metallica" list, were such a list to be made. However, in their live shows, they've always been very good about mixing in a healthy dose of things from every album, both in an effort to keep the old fans happy, and to show the new fans they've got some other cool stuff too, and those newbies should run right out and buy those CD's right now, so the incredibly greedy members of Metallica can make even more money (a subject I will leave for another post someday, for it will require even more space than this one...).
I can't exactly remember when during the show it was (probably when they were playing some of the drippy new stuff that I didn't like), but I finally had to just sit down. As the song went on, I felt myself starting to drift off, and as loud as they were, I started to feel myself going to sleep. My eyes were closed, and I didn't even try to fight it at this point. I could still hear everything, I knew where I was, and I knew what was happening, but I was definitely getting some much needed sleep. Since I was now asleep, I can't remember for sure, but I think I woke up sometime in the middle of the following song, feeling a little groggy and out of it, but relieved at the same time. I slowly got back into the swing of things, and by the end of whatever song it was that I woke up during, I was pretty much back in the real world. The rest of the Metallica show passed by without further incident, and when they were finishing Enter Sandman, their big single from that self-titled album, we made our way out back to the car, figuring this was the last song...only to hear them, from the parking lot, kick into So What, a cover song by The Anti-Nowhere League that was probably the best thing to come out of Metallica's Black Album sessions, and a song I had yet to see them perform live. I looked at my buddy, who understood the significance of what was going on, shrugged, got in my car, and started on the long drive home.
Amazingly, by this time (again, post 11PM as we left the Fairgrounds), I was actually feeling quite good. My 5-10 minute power nap thru 100+ decibels must have been enough to recharge the batteries, for I actually enjoyed the drive home thru the misty late-nite wilderness of upstate New York. And upon reaching New York City, there isn't any time to be sleeping while driving. Driving in NYC is too much of an extreme sporting event to be doing anything other than paying 100% full-on attention. I must've gotten into the house around 1AM or so, and thankfully it was now early Saturday morning, and I didn't have to be at work until Monday morning. And I took full advantage of that, going promptly to bed, waking up sometime after 2PM Saturday afternoon. I'm fairly certain I didn't wake up once during that 12+ hour block of time. Ah, to be young and stupid...
I've since acquired both video and audio copies of the Metallica portion of that show, so I have both seen and heard anything I may have missed while dozing during their performance.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Led Zeppelin, P.J. Harvey, Eagles Of Death Metal, Iron Maiden, Shootyz Groove, The White Stripes, The Misfits, Clutch, Portishead, A Perfect Circle, The 5, 6, 7, 8's, Metallica, Nirvana, The Doors, The International Noise Conspiracy, Ike & Tina Turner, Tricky, Apocalypse Now Soundtrack, John Lee Hooker, Pearl Jam, and probably other stuff that I'm not sure if I was writing or not when it played...
Back in the summer of 1994, I was working at Barnes & Noble in the stockroom. I unloaded trucks, entered inventory into the system, did some light maintenance work too. Two of my favorite bands were touring concurrently, and of course both were going to be in the vicinity on consecutive nights.
Soundgarden was playing in Manhattan on a Thursday evening. I worked that day, then went home, changed, picked up my friends, and we drove into the city for the show. I was living in Queens at the time, so although it was geographically close to Manhattan, NYC traffic is, well, NYC traffic.
So we get to the show, which of course we were looking forward to. They were playing at The NY State Armory, which none of us had ever seen a show at before. No one could remember a show ever being there at all. Turns out, there was a reason for that.
When you go see shows in clubs, it typically is hot. Lots of bodies jumping around in a small, dark, confined, not-very-well ventilated space, usually produces an excess of warmth that tends to be uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Of course, that same description applies to any summer day in NYC as well, so just imagine it that much more uncomfortable, but still tolerable. It's easier to put up with when there's a good band onstage.
As to the reason no one could remember a show ever having been done there by anyone; there wasn't. Why? Because part-way thru this Soundgarden show, it was becoming increasingly apparent that this venue was not designed to hold this many bodies in it at one time. After the initial burst of energy from the band hitting the stage, the crowd became rather subdued, due to the oppressiveness of the heat. There really wasn't much movement from anyone on the floor, because it was kind of exhausting just standing there. I'm pretty sure there was even a cloud forming above us in the venue due to all the heat and humidity. At one point, even Chris Cornell, Soundgarden's singer, thanked the crowd for being at the show, remarking something to the effect of they knew it was ridiculously hot, even for a concert.
Having seen Soundgarden a couple years earlier with some of the same friends, we knew that when Kim Thayil, their guitarist, propped his guitar onto the backdrop, feedback reverberating loudly and repeatedly throughout the venue, it was our cue to go. Last time they did that, the lights stayed out, so everyone expected the band to come back onstage for more. A good 5 to 10 feedback-filled minutes later, the house lights came up, and we let out a collective groan as we now knew the show was over. Having learned our lesson, as soon as he propped up the guitar and left the stage this time, we left the sauna we were in and bolted for the (relatively) cool air of a NYC summer night, leaving behind most of the crowd who, like us the previous concert, were hoping for more. Never had we been so happy to get into 85 degree air with 85 percent humidity, because it was an Arctic breeze compared to the interior of the NY State Armory. Drained and dehydrated, we made our way back to the car for the journey home. I must have made it to bed sometime after midnight, maybe closer to 1AM. The only problem was, this was Thursday night, and I still had to go to work on Friday.
Now, having been at work since 8AM (maybe earlier, I can't remember) Friday, I left around 3PM to go get a different friend. Him and I, along with 2 of his buddies, were going to see Metallica in Middletown, NY, that night. Suicidal Tendencies and Danzig were opening, so we kinda wanted to see the whole bill, as we liked all of them. Getting to Middletown involved a drive of between 90 minutes and 2 hours, and if I'm sitting still for that long, especially having worked and been up half the previous night at a physically exhausting concert, I'm gonna fall asleep. Even if I'm the one driving.
Somewhere along the gently winding, soothing, calmingly flat road that is the Taconic State Parkway, I know I woke up at about 60 MPH, and was quickly startled to full alertness when I realized I was not driving in the same lane as I had been prior to falling asleep at the wheel. Since all 3 of my passengers were completely passed out, no one but me noticed this, so I was the only one who had a heartbeat racing at breakneck speed. While I was still very tired, the rush of adrenalin from this incident was enough to keep me awake for the rest of the journey.
We weren't in time to catch Suicidal Tendencies from the beginning. In fact, I think we walked into the Orange County Fairgrounds near the end of their set. It was time to decide where we wanted to be for the show. As this is a horse racing track, the stage was set up on the infield of the track, the home stretch was the floor for the crowd, and the seats lining the home stretch were also available for those who wanted to sit. Say, me, for instance.
Even though this was an outdoor, open-air concert, and we were sitting about 20 rows up, plus had the width of the track between us and the stage, the noise level was still plenty high. Danzig came onstage, and gave a great show, performing all songs that I really liked, including a couple of fairly obscure ones from his catalog. I was eventually able to get a recording of this show later on, so I can still enjoy it today on my iPod.
After Danzig left the stage, I was still feeling pretty good all in all, and was fairly psyched to be seeing Metallica. We were having a good time, enjoying the show, the weather was nice, our seats were pretty good, things were fine. Metallica were 3 years on from their self-titled radio-friendly megahit album, which I personally found extremely disappointing. At the time it came out, I nearly chucked the tape I made off the CD out the window of my car upon first listen. I gave it more of a chance, but to this day, there's really only 3 or 4 songs from that album I can listen to, and those rank at the very bottom of a "songs I like the most from Metallica" list, were such a list to be made. However, in their live shows, they've always been very good about mixing in a healthy dose of things from every album, both in an effort to keep the old fans happy, and to show the new fans they've got some other cool stuff too, and those newbies should run right out and buy those CD's right now, so the incredibly greedy members of Metallica can make even more money (a subject I will leave for another post someday, for it will require even more space than this one...).
I can't exactly remember when during the show it was (probably when they were playing some of the drippy new stuff that I didn't like), but I finally had to just sit down. As the song went on, I felt myself starting to drift off, and as loud as they were, I started to feel myself going to sleep. My eyes were closed, and I didn't even try to fight it at this point. I could still hear everything, I knew where I was, and I knew what was happening, but I was definitely getting some much needed sleep. Since I was now asleep, I can't remember for sure, but I think I woke up sometime in the middle of the following song, feeling a little groggy and out of it, but relieved at the same time. I slowly got back into the swing of things, and by the end of whatever song it was that I woke up during, I was pretty much back in the real world. The rest of the Metallica show passed by without further incident, and when they were finishing Enter Sandman, their big single from that self-titled album, we made our way out back to the car, figuring this was the last song...only to hear them, from the parking lot, kick into So What, a cover song by The Anti-Nowhere League that was probably the best thing to come out of Metallica's Black Album sessions, and a song I had yet to see them perform live. I looked at my buddy, who understood the significance of what was going on, shrugged, got in my car, and started on the long drive home.
Amazingly, by this time (again, post 11PM as we left the Fairgrounds), I was actually feeling quite good. My 5-10 minute power nap thru 100+ decibels must have been enough to recharge the batteries, for I actually enjoyed the drive home thru the misty late-nite wilderness of upstate New York. And upon reaching New York City, there isn't any time to be sleeping while driving. Driving in NYC is too much of an extreme sporting event to be doing anything other than paying 100% full-on attention. I must've gotten into the house around 1AM or so, and thankfully it was now early Saturday morning, and I didn't have to be at work until Monday morning. And I took full advantage of that, going promptly to bed, waking up sometime after 2PM Saturday afternoon. I'm fairly certain I didn't wake up once during that 12+ hour block of time. Ah, to be young and stupid...
I've since acquired both video and audio copies of the Metallica portion of that show, so I have both seen and heard anything I may have missed while dozing during their performance.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Led Zeppelin, P.J. Harvey, Eagles Of Death Metal, Iron Maiden, Shootyz Groove, The White Stripes, The Misfits, Clutch, Portishead, A Perfect Circle, The 5, 6, 7, 8's, Metallica, Nirvana, The Doors, The International Noise Conspiracy, Ike & Tina Turner, Tricky, Apocalypse Now Soundtrack, John Lee Hooker, Pearl Jam, and probably other stuff that I'm not sure if I was writing or not when it played...
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Man Bites Dog
Okay, so I'm a mailman. I enjoy it, I've got a lot of cool people on my route, including fellow blogger Mollie. But it is a government agency, meaning no one in power has any clue as to what they're doing. Case in point, today's adventures.
Roughly once a year, this private company, whose name I won't mention to avoid completely embarrassing them, is hired by the Post Office to give the carriers a training talk/demonstration on how to avoid dog bites. A team of about a half-dozen people and 3 dogs come in their Winnebago. The dogs are trained to attack for demonstration purposes (the fact that they're wearing electric shock collars doesn't help either). The main trainers/speakers spend plenty of time throughout the demo telling us that dogs in general, while somewhat predictable, can never really be trusted, because this could be the time that the dog goes from barking only to maybe this time finally biting. Except, of course, for their dogs, who are completely under their control, and only bite when they're told to (they were very insistent about this point, being sure to repeat it several times over the course of the demo).
So they asked for 3 volunteers amongst the 100 or so carriers in my office (I work out of the largest office in Henderson). The 3 volunteers were brought into the Winnebago to, one at a time, put on the protective dog bite suit. It's the kinda big, puffy, multi-layered thing that makes the person wearing it look like Ralphie's little brother Randy in his snowsuit in A Christmas Story, except they're also wearing a full cage helmet like college hockey players wear. The sort of thing you'd love to be wearing in the middle of the desert in late summer.
The first victim...sorry, vlounteer, has a German Shepherd released from about 10 yards away. It comes bearing down on him, makes a flying leap, and bites the suit as it's supposed to. Pretty scary if you're in the suit, I imagine. I say "I imagine" because I'm not one of the volunteers. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid...
Now we move on to the next person. We have a similar attack, except he was told to stand with his arm extended. A different dog again covers the same 10 yard distance in the blink of an eye, and built up enough speed and momentum to actually knock this carrier over. There was a trainer-guy standing behind the suited-up carrier, and he did his best to keep him from completely falling over upon being mauled. So as he helps the carrier back to his feet, the main trainer comes over, puts a doggie toy in front of the dog to attract its attention, and starts to walk him back towards the Winnebago, showing and telling us that this is really a friendly dog, and again, will only attack and bite when told to...
...or when the dog can get a look at, or smell, exposed fingers. You see, the suit has long sleeves on it, long enough that you can retract your hands within the sleeves. But as the dog was being walked around the carrier on its way back, it turned its head away from the doggie toy and started to look at the sleeve. And then he stuck his snout into the sleeve. And then he bit down on what he was able to get a hold of in the sleeve, which turned out to be the carrier's hand. He was quickly yanked away, so no one was quite sure if anything had happened. And then this dog was given 2 more runs at this same carrier in the suit. Now the carrier is brought over to the Winnebago to remove the suit while the trainers continue talking to us. It's only when the sleeves were removed, and the carrier's right hand was exposed, completely covered in blood, that anyone realized just how serious this was.
After a couple minutes, with frantic Postal managers running around getting paper towels and things, the third volunteer to be brought before the firing squad emerges from the Winnebago, all suited up for his impending demise ("I regret that I have but one life to give for my Post Office..."). But I noticed something interesting, in that this time, the carrier was wearing what looked like boxing glove mittens that completely covered his hands, which I thought was odd, seeing as how neither of the first 2 volunteers had these on when they were presented as raw meat for the dogs. I asked the bite victim about this later, and he told me that the trainer guy who dressed him for the slaughter was fairly new, and had forgotten to put the gloves on him. Can you say, "lawsuit"?
So what have we learned at todays' dog bite class, children? Well, we learned how to get bit by dogs and have blood drawn, that the Post Office only works with the best, and that you should never trust anyone, no matter how many legs they stand on.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Brant Bjork, P.J. Harvey, The Police, Anthrax, Megadeth, S.O.D., Infectious Grooves (covering David Bowie), Jimi Hendrix, Rollins Band, Clutch, Blondie, The New York Dolls, The White Stripes, The Misfits, Louis Jordan, The Bakerton Group
Roughly once a year, this private company, whose name I won't mention to avoid completely embarrassing them, is hired by the Post Office to give the carriers a training talk/demonstration on how to avoid dog bites. A team of about a half-dozen people and 3 dogs come in their Winnebago. The dogs are trained to attack for demonstration purposes (the fact that they're wearing electric shock collars doesn't help either). The main trainers/speakers spend plenty of time throughout the demo telling us that dogs in general, while somewhat predictable, can never really be trusted, because this could be the time that the dog goes from barking only to maybe this time finally biting. Except, of course, for their dogs, who are completely under their control, and only bite when they're told to (they were very insistent about this point, being sure to repeat it several times over the course of the demo).
So they asked for 3 volunteers amongst the 100 or so carriers in my office (I work out of the largest office in Henderson). The 3 volunteers were brought into the Winnebago to, one at a time, put on the protective dog bite suit. It's the kinda big, puffy, multi-layered thing that makes the person wearing it look like Ralphie's little brother Randy in his snowsuit in A Christmas Story, except they're also wearing a full cage helmet like college hockey players wear. The sort of thing you'd love to be wearing in the middle of the desert in late summer.
The first victim...sorry, vlounteer, has a German Shepherd released from about 10 yards away. It comes bearing down on him, makes a flying leap, and bites the suit as it's supposed to. Pretty scary if you're in the suit, I imagine. I say "I imagine" because I'm not one of the volunteers. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid...
Now we move on to the next person. We have a similar attack, except he was told to stand with his arm extended. A different dog again covers the same 10 yard distance in the blink of an eye, and built up enough speed and momentum to actually knock this carrier over. There was a trainer-guy standing behind the suited-up carrier, and he did his best to keep him from completely falling over upon being mauled. So as he helps the carrier back to his feet, the main trainer comes over, puts a doggie toy in front of the dog to attract its attention, and starts to walk him back towards the Winnebago, showing and telling us that this is really a friendly dog, and again, will only attack and bite when told to...
...or when the dog can get a look at, or smell, exposed fingers. You see, the suit has long sleeves on it, long enough that you can retract your hands within the sleeves. But as the dog was being walked around the carrier on its way back, it turned its head away from the doggie toy and started to look at the sleeve. And then he stuck his snout into the sleeve. And then he bit down on what he was able to get a hold of in the sleeve, which turned out to be the carrier's hand. He was quickly yanked away, so no one was quite sure if anything had happened. And then this dog was given 2 more runs at this same carrier in the suit. Now the carrier is brought over to the Winnebago to remove the suit while the trainers continue talking to us. It's only when the sleeves were removed, and the carrier's right hand was exposed, completely covered in blood, that anyone realized just how serious this was.
After a couple minutes, with frantic Postal managers running around getting paper towels and things, the third volunteer to be brought before the firing squad emerges from the Winnebago, all suited up for his impending demise ("I regret that I have but one life to give for my Post Office..."). But I noticed something interesting, in that this time, the carrier was wearing what looked like boxing glove mittens that completely covered his hands, which I thought was odd, seeing as how neither of the first 2 volunteers had these on when they were presented as raw meat for the dogs. I asked the bite victim about this later, and he told me that the trainer guy who dressed him for the slaughter was fairly new, and had forgotten to put the gloves on him. Can you say, "lawsuit"?
So what have we learned at todays' dog bite class, children? Well, we learned how to get bit by dogs and have blood drawn, that the Post Office only works with the best, and that you should never trust anyone, no matter how many legs they stand on.
Blog Post Soundtrack; Brant Bjork, P.J. Harvey, The Police, Anthrax, Megadeth, S.O.D., Infectious Grooves (covering David Bowie), Jimi Hendrix, Rollins Band, Clutch, Blondie, The New York Dolls, The White Stripes, The Misfits, Louis Jordan, The Bakerton Group
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