Australian Wrestles Kangaroo From Family Home
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
CANBERRA, Australia (AP) -- When a dark intruder smashed through his bedroom window and repeatedly bounced on his bed, Beat Ettlin at first was relieved to discover it was a kangaroo. ''My initial thought when I was half awake was, 'It's a lunatic ninja coming through the window,''' the 42-year-old told The Associated Press on Monday. ''It seems about as likely as a kangaroo breaking in.''
But his relief was short-lived. As Ettlin cowered beneath the sheets with his wife and 9-year-old daughter at 2 a.m. Sunday, the frantic kangaroo bounded into the bedroom of his 10-year-old son Leighton Beman, who screamed, ''There's a 'roo in my room!''
''I thought, 'This can be really dangerous for the whole family now,''' Ettlin said.
The ordeal played out over a few minutes in the family's house in Garran, an upmarket suburb in the leafy national capital of Canberra.
Ettlin, a chef originally from the Swiss city of Stans, said he jumped the 90 pound (40 kilogram) marsupial from behind and pinned it to the floor. He grabbed it in a headlock and wrestled the trashing and bleeding intruder into a hallway, toward the front door.
He used a single, fumbling hand to open the front door and shoved the kangaroo into the night.
''I had just my Bonds undies on. I felt vulnerable,'' he said, referring to a popular Australian underwear brand.
The kangaroo, which Ettlin said was around his height, 5 foot 9 inches (176 centimeters), left claw gouges in the wooden frame of the master bed and a trail of blood through the house. The animal was cut when it came crashing through the bedroom window.
Ettlin, who had scratch marks on his leg and buttocks and was left wearing only his shredded underpants, described himself as ''lucky.''
The kangaroo vanished into a nearby forest from where it likely came. Wildlife authorities confirmed Monday they had received a phone call saying an injured kangaroo had entered the caller's home and left.
Greg Baxter, a Queensland University lecturer on Australian native animals, said kangaroos rarely invade homes but have done so in the past when panicked.
''It is very unusual, but when kangaroos become panicked, they lose all sense of caution and just fly for where they think they can get away,'' Baxter said.
Eastern gray kangaroos are common around Canberra's forested urban fringe. They are so numerous at one defense department site in the city that officials want to cull hundreds of the animals to stop them ruining the habitat.
Although it had been a harrowing experience, Ettlin's wife could see the funny side.
''I think he's a hero: a hero in Bonds undies,'' Verity Beman, 39, said of her husband.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Sunday, February 01, 2009
The Best Job in the World
Why I heart Australia, reason # 317:
Australia is going to pay one lucky individual $100,000 (USD) to laze around Hamilton Island (up in Queensland) for six months and blog about his/her experience to promote the tourist destination on the web. Check out the article.
The application deadline is Feb 22, and the job begins on July 1. Check out the website for more details.
Who wants to help me put together an application??
Australia is going to pay one lucky individual $100,000 (USD) to laze around Hamilton Island (up in Queensland) for six months and blog about his/her experience to promote the tourist destination on the web. Check out the article.
The application deadline is Feb 22, and the job begins on July 1. Check out the website for more details.
Who wants to help me put together an application??
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Season's Greetings
This being the last post of 2008, I wanted to spread some holiday cheer - as much as I can muster anyway - to my readers, even the random, creepy stalker types (you know who you are). I'm not sure where this year has gone, but one thing is for certain - it is mere hours from being officially over.
So good-bye 2008, and may 2009 bring us considerable joy, ample success, exuberant health, new discoveries, rich experiences, lavish indulgences, bountiful feasts, abundant laughter, and copious copiousness!
So good-bye 2008, and may 2009 bring us considerable joy, ample success, exuberant health, new discoveries, rich experiences, lavish indulgences, bountiful feasts, abundant laughter, and copious copiousness!
Not to mention adequate warmth and appropriate winter gear.
(Pictured above: One sexy mama)
Happy New Year!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Where are them nuts?
Our economy is in such poor shape that even the squirrels are experiencing a recession. For some mysterious reason, pockets of eastern states including northern Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania have experienced zero acorn production this season. While I can't explain the absence of acorns, the shortage is probably the reason behind why, over the course of three days, a medium sized pumpkin (that Ella had painted blue) placed outside our front door was completely disemboweled, leaving just a few remnants of seeds and limp stringy shreds strewn in a heap on our front steps.
It was an alarming sight. The claw marks on the pumpkin showed the sign of crazed desperation.
Who - or what - would eat a yucky blue pumpkin?
Suspect #1:
Ella aka Peter the Pumpkin Eater?
Ok, probably not.
Suspect #2:
Our cat had been a very bad kitty earlier this year, and my sister, fed up with having to deal with his pooping in inappropriate places, exiled him from the house to mostly fend for himself. For the past six months, he has been sleeping in a little enclosed cat bed on the outside porch where we also put his food and water. Over time leaving food outside has attracted other pests to compete with him for his "meaty bits gourmet grill" and I sometimes worry that he doesn't have enough to eat.
One day as I was inspecting our ravaged pumpkin, the cat came over to me and gave me an expectant look ("Is it meaty bits time?"). I eyed him suspiciously, bent down, stuck my finger out, and poked his nose.
"Have you been eating our pumpkin?" I asked accusingly.
"Meow?" ("What did I do now?")
Was he so hungry that he had spent the entire night gnawing away at this thing? It was possible, but I somehow didn't think so. He is too much of a food snob to go for an acrylic covered pumpkin.
My next thought was that it was the doing of a raccoon or possum, but it never occurred to me to suspect the innocent looking gray squirrels whose nimble acrobatics I sometimes watch from the window of the second floor bathroom.
I wish I had taken a picture of the pumpkin before its remnants were eventually thrown away, but below is what I imagine the culprit squirrel to have looked like after its hefty meal:
At least one squirrel won't starve this winter. I'm glad that I could be a good Samaritan to a neighborhood critter or two (or dozen) during this difficult time.
It was an alarming sight. The claw marks on the pumpkin showed the sign of crazed desperation.
Who - or what - would eat a yucky blue pumpkin?
Suspect #1:
Ella aka Peter the Pumpkin Eater?
Ok, probably not.
Suspect #2:
Our cat had been a very bad kitty earlier this year, and my sister, fed up with having to deal with his pooping in inappropriate places, exiled him from the house to mostly fend for himself. For the past six months, he has been sleeping in a little enclosed cat bed on the outside porch where we also put his food and water. Over time leaving food outside has attracted other pests to compete with him for his "meaty bits gourmet grill" and I sometimes worry that he doesn't have enough to eat.
One day as I was inspecting our ravaged pumpkin, the cat came over to me and gave me an expectant look ("Is it meaty bits time?"). I eyed him suspiciously, bent down, stuck my finger out, and poked his nose.
"Have you been eating our pumpkin?" I asked accusingly.
"Meow?" ("What did I do now?")
Was he so hungry that he had spent the entire night gnawing away at this thing? It was possible, but I somehow didn't think so. He is too much of a food snob to go for an acrylic covered pumpkin.
My next thought was that it was the doing of a raccoon or possum, but it never occurred to me to suspect the innocent looking gray squirrels whose nimble acrobatics I sometimes watch from the window of the second floor bathroom.
I wish I had taken a picture of the pumpkin before its remnants were eventually thrown away, but below is what I imagine the culprit squirrel to have looked like after its hefty meal:
At least one squirrel won't starve this winter. I'm glad that I could be a good Samaritan to a neighborhood critter or two (or dozen) during this difficult time.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Yays and Boos
November has been a month of highs and lows.
First, the serious stuff:
Yay: After two elections and eight long horrendous years, Americans have finally realized that voting for an “average Joe” with misplaced priorities has hurt the country more than it has helped it. There are many reasons to celebrate Barack Obama’s win; for me, it is less about electing the country’s first African American as president than it is about finally electing someone who possesses intellectual curiosity, integrity, and openness to complexity and diversity of opinion. And beautiful ears.
Yay: Sarah Palin is not the next vice-president of the United States. I am so much more afraid of Palin in the White House than I am of Putin rearing his head in our air space.
Boo: Six and a half million haters in California voted to strip gays of the right to marry and voters in Arizona and Florida defeated similar amendments. Moreover, 57 percent of voters in Arkansas denied the rights of unmarried couples to adopt, another maneuver to thwart the “gay agenda.”
The campaign supporting California’s Proposition 8, primarily funded by the Mormon Church and other religious institutions, targeted minority groups and the morally conservative and swayed voters through shameful scare tactics. Rather than focusing on the issue as being about human rights, Prop 8 supporters aired commercials that declared that public schools would treat same-sex marriage as normal, thus insinuating that if gays were given the right to marry, all children would magically turn into raging homosexuals (because being gay is really a choice) and the world would erupt into flames. And people actually bought into this bullwocky.
What is infuriating is minority groups choosing to deny the civil rights of another. Does the Mormon Church need to be reminded of its less than sparkling history of matrimonial excess or of its own persecution for its beliefs? And do we need to remind ourselves of our history of de jure racial segregation (removed by law beginning only in the 1950s), anti-miscsegenation a.k.a. ban on interracial marriage (repealed only in 1967), and women’s suffrage (granted only in 1920)?
Ignorance and bigotry are never - and should never be - in fashion.
Boo: And if that weren’t depressing enough, a) the US economy is in the shitter and we taxpayers will be inheriting the disaster of our failed financial institutions; b) the US auto industry is on the brink of bankruptcy and yet when the CEOs came to Congress to plead for a financial bailout, they arrived on expensive fancy private jets; c) global warming and climate change haven’t disappeared just because gas prices fell below $3 a gallon; d) the government’s idea of a solution to meet our energy needs is to sell oil and gas leases on 500 square miles of public land in eastern Utah; e) despite the economic downturn holiday consumerism is still rampant and perilous for retail workers; f) and oh yeah, hunger, disease, violence, illiteracy, and poverty still exist in the world.
Side note: One of the most important articles I’ve read recently is Michael Pollan’s open letter to the next “Farmer in Chief,” urging the next President-elect to prioritize the reform of America’s food system. The major point Pollan makes is that we cannot solve the three major crises that we currently face – national security, health care, and global warming – without recognizing the role food policy makes in contributing to them and the necessity of overhauling the system. I hope Barack is paying attention to this. Read the full article here.
Stepping off my soap box and moving on to the lighter side of life:
Yay: Because no blog post would be complete without some Ultimate-related tidbit, the Fighting Carrots, my clique team, made it to the finals in B league.
Boo: And lost. Another season as the bridesmaid and not the bride.
Yay: Some homies and I are going to New Zealand for 2.5 weeks in April!
Boo: April is a long five months away.
Yay?/Boo?: I will be a teaching assistant for a seven-week course on cost-benefit analysis starting in mid-January at CMU’s DC campus. I was offered the position based on a recommendation from the professor who will be teaching the class. I get the feeling that I'll be getting far more than what I bargained for with this one.
Yay: Thanksgiving came, and with it brought good food, good company, a week of leftovers, and many things and people to be grateful for, including readers of this blog!
First, the serious stuff:
Yay: After two elections and eight long horrendous years, Americans have finally realized that voting for an “average Joe” with misplaced priorities has hurt the country more than it has helped it. There are many reasons to celebrate Barack Obama’s win; for me, it is less about electing the country’s first African American as president than it is about finally electing someone who possesses intellectual curiosity, integrity, and openness to complexity and diversity of opinion. And beautiful ears.
Yay: Sarah Palin is not the next vice-president of the United States. I am so much more afraid of Palin in the White House than I am of Putin rearing his head in our air space.
Boo: Six and a half million haters in California voted to strip gays of the right to marry and voters in Arizona and Florida defeated similar amendments. Moreover, 57 percent of voters in Arkansas denied the rights of unmarried couples to adopt, another maneuver to thwart the “gay agenda.”
The campaign supporting California’s Proposition 8, primarily funded by the Mormon Church and other religious institutions, targeted minority groups and the morally conservative and swayed voters through shameful scare tactics. Rather than focusing on the issue as being about human rights, Prop 8 supporters aired commercials that declared that public schools would treat same-sex marriage as normal, thus insinuating that if gays were given the right to marry, all children would magically turn into raging homosexuals (because being gay is really a choice) and the world would erupt into flames. And people actually bought into this bullwocky.
What is infuriating is minority groups choosing to deny the civil rights of another. Does the Mormon Church need to be reminded of its less than sparkling history of matrimonial excess or of its own persecution for its beliefs? And do we need to remind ourselves of our history of de jure racial segregation (removed by law beginning only in the 1950s), anti-miscsegenation a.k.a. ban on interracial marriage (repealed only in 1967), and women’s suffrage (granted only in 1920)?
Ignorance and bigotry are never - and should never be - in fashion.
Boo: And if that weren’t depressing enough, a) the US economy is in the shitter and we taxpayers will be inheriting the disaster of our failed financial institutions; b) the US auto industry is on the brink of bankruptcy and yet when the CEOs came to Congress to plead for a financial bailout, they arrived on expensive fancy private jets; c) global warming and climate change haven’t disappeared just because gas prices fell below $3 a gallon; d) the government’s idea of a solution to meet our energy needs is to sell oil and gas leases on 500 square miles of public land in eastern Utah; e) despite the economic downturn holiday consumerism is still rampant and perilous for retail workers; f) and oh yeah, hunger, disease, violence, illiteracy, and poverty still exist in the world.
Side note: One of the most important articles I’ve read recently is Michael Pollan’s open letter to the next “Farmer in Chief,” urging the next President-elect to prioritize the reform of America’s food system. The major point Pollan makes is that we cannot solve the three major crises that we currently face – national security, health care, and global warming – without recognizing the role food policy makes in contributing to them and the necessity of overhauling the system. I hope Barack is paying attention to this. Read the full article here.
Stepping off my soap box and moving on to the lighter side of life:
Yay: Because no blog post would be complete without some Ultimate-related tidbit, the Fighting Carrots, my clique team, made it to the finals in B league.
Boo: And lost. Another season as the bridesmaid and not the bride.
Yay: Some homies and I are going to New Zealand for 2.5 weeks in April!
Boo: April is a long five months away.
Yay?/Boo?: I will be a teaching assistant for a seven-week course on cost-benefit analysis starting in mid-January at CMU’s DC campus. I was offered the position based on a recommendation from the professor who will be teaching the class. I get the feeling that I'll be getting far more than what I bargained for with this one.
Yay: Thanksgiving came, and with it brought good food, good company, a week of leftovers, and many things and people to be grateful for, including readers of this blog!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
New! And Better than Ever!
As you can tell, I've fallen off the blog wagon recently. I apologize to all of my adoring fans for my long virtual absence.
Much has happened since my last entry in September. First, I have spent a great deal of time this year consumed by all things Ultimate, namely practicing, playing tournaments, strategizing, reading articles on The Huddle, doing visualization exercises (yes, really), experimenting with energy drinks (and getting Hammered), subjecting my fragile body to harsh elements (cold, heat, divots, treadmills...), and so on. Describing my relationship with Ultimate as an obsession would be an understatement. While none of what I’m saying may be new or surprising to you, I am in fact surprised by my own dedication to the sport. I stopped playing club in early 2005 and eventually got used to spending my time on other seemingly more important matters like work, school, eating, sleeping, and generally, being fat and boring. The idea of devoting 6+ hours to practice each week, spending whole weekends away at tournaments, and conditioning outside of practices was preposterous - even to me. But the next thing I knew, before I had even lain a single cleat on grass, I was sucked back into the abyss that is Ultimate.
Overall, Big Red Death Machine (BRDM) had a good season. We went into Regionals seeded 7th and came out taking 5th place – our best finish yet. We lost our first game on Saturday, and faced with the threat of an early exit in a double elimination format, we won the three games necessary to advance to the second day (a historic first for BRDM). We lost our first game on Sunday against 2nd seeded AMP who went on to qualify for Nationals as the second place team out of our region. Fifth place is acceptable but hardly satisfying. Now I have to suspend my aspirations of becoming a world class donut eating champion in order to work on being a better Ultimate player for 2009. Damn conflicting goals.
In other October happenings, I celebrated another year of my notable existence on earth. According to Father Larry Lorenzoni, “[b]irthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest.” It is hard to disagree. While it’s not clear if I am any wiser now that I was before, anecdotal evidence reveals that I am, in fact, looking as youthful as ever. Earlier this year, my brother-in-law Nathaniel gave my sister, Ella, and me a tour of Hillary’s campaign headquarters in Arlington. While showing us around he introduced us to a couple of staffers. One of them, a guy in his thirties, upon the introduction exclaimed to us that he was surprised that he hadn’t met me before. I thought it was an odd comment to make but didn’t dwell on it. The next day, the same guy – let’s call him Twinkie-Lipped Bootyflosser (Twinkie for short) – told Nathaniel that he didn’t know that Nathaniel had two daughters. Confused, Nathaniel responded that he didn’t know that he had two daughters either. Somehow Twinkie didn’t catch the “sister-in-law” part of the introduction and mistook me for Nathaniel’s fourteen year old daughter. Fourteen?! I was mortified. What gave him the impression that I was 14? I hope it wasn’t the Hannah Montana purse I was carrying. This incident occurred not long after I was cooed at over the phone by yet another male in his thirties who thought I was Ella (who was five years old at the time). Yay, age-defying Asian genes?
In October, I also reached the one year mark at my job, which was no small feat for someone who, in the past five years, hadn't been able to stay put in once place for longer than twelve months. Sadly, I have little more to show for this achievement than mild carpel tunnel and major flat-butt syndrome and a burgeoning affinity for happy hours and other escapist activities.
Occasionally, the daily monotony of my job is punctuated by thrilling virtual run-ins with whack jobs. One noteworthy example occurred about two months ago. My client asked me to investigate whether a certain website was falsely advertising products with a certain government label. Upon reviewing the website, I determined that this website was indeed misusing the label. I found contact information for the site owner and sent an email to bring this issue to his attention. The first e-mail response I received was vague in addressing my questions but cordial. It was as follows:
My job is *so* *totally* *awesome.*
That about sums up the months of September and October. Stay tuned for a recap of November.
Much has happened since my last entry in September. First, I have spent a great deal of time this year consumed by all things Ultimate, namely practicing, playing tournaments, strategizing, reading articles on The Huddle, doing visualization exercises (yes, really), experimenting with energy drinks (and getting Hammered), subjecting my fragile body to harsh elements (cold, heat, divots, treadmills...), and so on. Describing my relationship with Ultimate as an obsession would be an understatement. While none of what I’m saying may be new or surprising to you, I am in fact surprised by my own dedication to the sport. I stopped playing club in early 2005 and eventually got used to spending my time on other seemingly more important matters like work, school, eating, sleeping, and generally, being fat and boring. The idea of devoting 6+ hours to practice each week, spending whole weekends away at tournaments, and conditioning outside of practices was preposterous - even to me. But the next thing I knew, before I had even lain a single cleat on grass, I was sucked back into the abyss that is Ultimate.
Overall, Big Red Death Machine (BRDM) had a good season. We went into Regionals seeded 7th and came out taking 5th place – our best finish yet. We lost our first game on Saturday, and faced with the threat of an early exit in a double elimination format, we won the three games necessary to advance to the second day (a historic first for BRDM). We lost our first game on Sunday against 2nd seeded AMP who went on to qualify for Nationals as the second place team out of our region. Fifth place is acceptable but hardly satisfying. Now I have to suspend my aspirations of becoming a world class donut eating champion in order to work on being a better Ultimate player for 2009. Damn conflicting goals.
In other October happenings, I celebrated another year of my notable existence on earth. According to Father Larry Lorenzoni, “[b]irthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest.” It is hard to disagree. While it’s not clear if I am any wiser now that I was before, anecdotal evidence reveals that I am, in fact, looking as youthful as ever. Earlier this year, my brother-in-law Nathaniel gave my sister, Ella, and me a tour of Hillary’s campaign headquarters in Arlington. While showing us around he introduced us to a couple of staffers. One of them, a guy in his thirties, upon the introduction exclaimed to us that he was surprised that he hadn’t met me before. I thought it was an odd comment to make but didn’t dwell on it. The next day, the same guy – let’s call him Twinkie-Lipped Bootyflosser (Twinkie for short) – told Nathaniel that he didn’t know that Nathaniel had two daughters. Confused, Nathaniel responded that he didn’t know that he had two daughters either. Somehow Twinkie didn’t catch the “sister-in-law” part of the introduction and mistook me for Nathaniel’s fourteen year old daughter. Fourteen?! I was mortified. What gave him the impression that I was 14? I hope it wasn’t the Hannah Montana purse I was carrying. This incident occurred not long after I was cooed at over the phone by yet another male in his thirties who thought I was Ella (who was five years old at the time). Yay, age-defying Asian genes?
In October, I also reached the one year mark at my job, which was no small feat for someone who, in the past five years, hadn't been able to stay put in once place for longer than twelve months. Sadly, I have little more to show for this achievement than mild carpel tunnel and major flat-butt syndrome and a burgeoning affinity for happy hours and other escapist activities.
Occasionally, the daily monotony of my job is punctuated by thrilling virtual run-ins with whack jobs. One noteworthy example occurred about two months ago. My client asked me to investigate whether a certain website was falsely advertising products with a certain government label. Upon reviewing the website, I determined that this website was indeed misusing the label. I found contact information for the site owner and sent an email to bring this issue to his attention. The first e-mail response I received was vague in addressing my questions but cordial. It was as follows:
Then before I could respond, JDVII’s medication must have wore off, and in what appeared to be a fit of drunken rage, he sent me this e-mail in the wee hours of the morning:Greetings, Ms.Chang.
To get the information you seek, I would imagine you might want to look at the web sites of the original manufacturers like,XXX YYYY, ZZZZ, [names omitted] and the other companies that make the units we use.
As always. Any questions, Any Time.
JDVII
I forwarded these emails to my manager and to my client. My client decided that she would try emailing him directly. His email response to her was the following:" I am writing on behalf of the XXXX Agency" [he was quoting from my email; name of agency omitted]
My attorneys have asked in passing what your authority was for such bold statements without the proper research . and I though I would like also to understand so I thought, I would ask -------as you see..... WBN works for the Interior Dept. and I am quite sure someone from " REAL THE XXXXX AGENCY" would have said something before the delivery of all the units the government Bought """""" Don't YA THINK ?
F.Y.I. I AM WAY TO BUSY TO _ _ _ _ WITH YOU. AND YOUR COMPANY HAS NOTHING WE COULD EVER WANT OR NEED.
QUESTIONS?. USE THE PHONE .
WE HAVE MANY NUMBERS USE ONE OF THEM.
OR RESPOND ON COMPANY LETTERHEAD TO WBN-LEGAL AT XXXXX [e-mail address deleted to protect the identity of the insane]
[deleted contact information including a list of six website addresses]
[signed,]
Prof.Dr.J.D.Vxxxxx II Phys.Sci.D.
[Um, “Professor Doctor”?]
P.S.S. You don't know me how dare you address me by my first name!!!!!!!!![I had rudely addressed him as James. And he apparently felt compelled to use nine exclamation marks to make his point.]
Where do I begin to comment on the absurdity of these emails? I was as annoyed by the unintelligible slander as I was appalled by Professor Doctor James D Vxxxxx II Phys Sci D’s assault on the English language, which was exacerbated by his apparent disdain for spell checker and his haphazard use of the caps lock and shift keys - though these flaws are probably the least of his problems. Don’t YA THINK?The products listed with the XXXX logo, as I told Chang are the labels that the major manufactures already have for the units made for the USA some of the them made in the USA.
Sorry for Ms Chang's confusion and the misinformation you where given..
All units on all my sites have been and will continue to be correctly listed.
ALSO as I also told Chang, if there was a problem with those listings, the government agencies that have been buying them would have said something 2 years ago. I would Think.
JDVII
P.S.
Please also remit to this office signed authority by the U.S.
government. that allows XXXXX [I deleted my company name] any governmental authority!THE statement" we do not have a record of your company being an XXXX Partner or any of these models as XXXX qualified ". This Came from Chang with out any normal investigative research and as my virus protection says: is a SPAM email that has wasted enough of both of our times.
All models so listed are correctly listed.
FYI.
Most of the other Consortium Members that have units on my sites are XXXX Partners, XXXX, YYYY, ZZZZ [names omitted] as well as other MAJOR USA Manufactures that make my units.
SO TO ANSWER YOUR EMAIL NOTHING TO FOLLOW UP. CHANG IS NOT VERY EFFICIENT.
My job is *so* *totally* *awesome.*
That about sums up the months of September and October. Stay tuned for a recap of November.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Don't Picture Your Dad in This
When my clock radio alarm went off this morning, I awoke to morning talk show chatter about man thongs. Not the kind of thongs that you slip on your feet, mind you. The other kind.
While still in a sleepy, discombobulated state, I lay in bed listening to male callers praising the benefits of wearing a thong (and yes, they were straight). These benefits include, but are not limited to, the following: 1) reduced excessive sweating; 2) improved circulation compared to wearing briefs; 3) they are, of course, sexy, sexy, sexy.
After leaving the house, but still intrigued by the concept, I googled "thongs for men" to see what I would find. I probably should not have done this while at work but curiosity trumped good judgment.
The number of results that turned up was impressive. I only clicked on one site - internationaljock.com - and was fascinated to see the vast array of styles and colors in which these male thongs are shown and the hefty price tags that go with them.
Take the California Muscle Teaser Thong (in cherry), for example:
I'm much less bothered by men wearing these pretty, skimpy things than by their price tags. Would you really pay $40+ for a piece of string and a small patch of cotton loin cloth? You might as well go commando and use that wad of cash for something more worthwhile. Like buying me dinner.
I'm amused by the fact that women now wear boy shorts and men are wearing shimmery cherry-colored thongs. I'm all for defying social norms in the undergarment-wearing context. But I'm left to wonder, what could possibly be next?
My latest greatest idea is to make underwear that have snaps on the sides, so pulling them up or down the legs is unnecessary. This would be especially useful when you are somehow already wearing shoes but not pants (unless they're snap-offs too) and need to put on a fresh new pair of undies. I'm sure you can think of at least a few more scenarios in which snap off underwear would be convenient. Who's with me here??
While still in a sleepy, discombobulated state, I lay in bed listening to male callers praising the benefits of wearing a thong (and yes, they were straight). These benefits include, but are not limited to, the following: 1) reduced excessive sweating; 2) improved circulation compared to wearing briefs; 3) they are, of course, sexy, sexy, sexy.
After leaving the house, but still intrigued by the concept, I googled "thongs for men" to see what I would find. I probably should not have done this while at work but curiosity trumped good judgment.
The number of results that turned up was impressive. I only clicked on one site - internationaljock.com - and was fascinated to see the vast array of styles and colors in which these male thongs are shown and the hefty price tags that go with them.
Take the California Muscle Teaser Thong (in cherry), for example:
I'm much less bothered by men wearing these pretty, skimpy things than by their price tags. Would you really pay $40+ for a piece of string and a small patch of cotton loin cloth? You might as well go commando and use that wad of cash for something more worthwhile. Like buying me dinner.
I'm amused by the fact that women now wear boy shorts and men are wearing shimmery cherry-colored thongs. I'm all for defying social norms in the undergarment-wearing context. But I'm left to wonder, what could possibly be next?
My latest greatest idea is to make underwear that have snaps on the sides, so pulling them up or down the legs is unnecessary. This would be especially useful when you are somehow already wearing shoes but not pants (unless they're snap-offs too) and need to put on a fresh new pair of undies. I'm sure you can think of at least a few more scenarios in which snap off underwear would be convenient. Who's with me here??
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
The Bicycle Thief Rides Again
To break up the monotony of the multi-part series about my past life as a service volunteer in the South, I have invited former - and perhaps soon to be regular - guest blogger, Grandma D, to share another titillating story with y'all. Enjoy!
=======================================================
My tale of failed bicycle thievery was so enthralling, that I’ve been asked to do another guest blog. While seemingly unrelated, both entries reveal unpredicted perils of my seemingly safe job as a grad student. Below are the contents of an email I received last week. I have removed any identifying information.
Subject: IMPORTANT PLEASE READ
Hi Grandma D,
I might be having the wrong Grandma D so disregard this if it does not pertain to you. A woman to what I believe said she lives in (state). She called early today to ask if we had a Grandma D who was associated with (Grandma D's academic program) here at (Grandma D's University). Of course no information was revealed to her but she informed us of the following: Her name was (her name) and that you (supposedly) were spreading rumors about her that she was a child molester and other hurtful things. Also that her computer was being hacked and that she was being billed for many things she did not purchase or use. She then stated that she was also a scientist so she knew that there were RF waves or MRI wave being sent through to her apartment to conduct a potential experiment which was giving her a head ache. She says she has bought equipment to test to see if her thoughts were true which she said that she was. She informed me that she has informed the police and the FBI. I was just letting you know the conversation so once again if this information does not pertain to you please disregard.
Thank you for your time,
(third name)
Office Assistant
(another academic program)
--END--
According to a prominent psychiatrist, this is probably nothing to worry about unless she contacts me directly.
=======================================================
My tale of failed bicycle thievery was so enthralling, that I’ve been asked to do another guest blog. While seemingly unrelated, both entries reveal unpredicted perils of my seemingly safe job as a grad student. Below are the contents of an email I received last week. I have removed any identifying information.
Subject: IMPORTANT PLEASE READ
Hi Grandma D,
I might be having the wrong Grandma D so disregard this if it does not pertain to you. A woman to what I believe said she lives in (state). She called early today to ask if we had a Grandma D who was associated with (Grandma D's academic program) here at (Grandma D's University). Of course no information was revealed to her but she informed us of the following: Her name was (her name) and that you (supposedly) were spreading rumors about her that she was a child molester and other hurtful things. Also that her computer was being hacked and that she was being billed for many things she did not purchase or use. She then stated that she was also a scientist so she knew that there were RF waves or MRI wave being sent through to her apartment to conduct a potential experiment which was giving her a head ache. She says she has bought equipment to test to see if her thoughts were true which she said that she was. She informed me that she has informed the police and the FBI. I was just letting you know the conversation so once again if this information does not pertain to you please disregard.
Thank you for your time,
(third name)
Office Assistant
(another academic program)
--END--
According to a prominent psychiatrist, this is probably nothing to worry about unless she contacts me directly.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
My Life Circa 2004 - Part 3
Sent February 19, 2004:
Hello!
It has been a while since I last kept in touch, so I wanted to send an update. I am currently in Miami, FL where my team has been for the past four weeks assisting low-income families file their 2003 federal tax returns. In addition to doing taxes, my team has also been volunteering at the Miami Children's Hospital three nights a week as bedside buddies, which involves pushing carts of toys and games from room to room and playing with kids who are unable to leave their beds.
Tax work here has been slow, mostly because most people hadn't received their W-2 forms until recently. The team, divided into pairs, works at five different locations throughout the city during the week and on Saturdays. Having never filed a single tax return of my own, helping someone else with theirs is a bit daunting. You're never sure if you could've gotten someone a bigger refund or if you even did the return correctly. Having the taxpayer sign a release form that "remises, releases, acquits, satisfies, waives, indemnifies, holds harmless, exonerates and forever discharges" us from "any and all claims, demands, accounts, sums of money, torts, trespasses, expenses, ...which may have as a result of personal injury or damage to or loss of property while receiving" our tax services is only a slight relief in the sense that I know I can't be sued for screwing up, but it still wouldn't alleviate the guilt. Aside from that, what makes this experience worth it is in seeing the lit up faces of taxpayers when they're told that they will be receiving a much needed four or five thousand dollar refund.
During the day when we're not providing tax assistance, which is often, we pass the time by contemplating our navels or planning our life after Americorps. I've done much of both, and as of right now, I'm keeping all options open about where I'll be or what I'll be doing after July 1st. In other words, I don't have a job and need one.
My team leaves Miami this Saturday to return to Charleston for a few days before we begin our next project next week. We have been assigned to High Point, North Carolina for an education project. We will be tutoring at four elementary schools during the day and running an after school program at a local Boys and Girls Club which is also where we'll be staying.
In other news, I'm delighted to report that I managed to take some days off from Americorps to go to Hawaii for the Kaimana Klassik XVII Ultimate Frisbee tournament this past weekend. It was wonderful seeing Whiptail alums Merritt, Cara, Lin, Marta, Andra, and Brynne, and in Hawaii no less! We played ultimate against a gorgeous backdrop of green mountains and camped by a beach of white sands and clear blue water. I had a terrific time. All I have left to say about Whiptail reunions is that I like it, I love it, and I want more of it!
Blogger's note: After four years since the last non-Millyfest Whiptail reunion, the alums are once again discussing the prospect of forming an alum team for a tournament in 2009. Finally!
Hello!
It has been a while since I last kept in touch, so I wanted to send an update. I am currently in Miami, FL where my team has been for the past four weeks assisting low-income families file their 2003 federal tax returns. In addition to doing taxes, my team has also been volunteering at the Miami Children's Hospital three nights a week as bedside buddies, which involves pushing carts of toys and games from room to room and playing with kids who are unable to leave their beds.
Tax work here has been slow, mostly because most people hadn't received their W-2 forms until recently. The team, divided into pairs, works at five different locations throughout the city during the week and on Saturdays. Having never filed a single tax return of my own, helping someone else with theirs is a bit daunting. You're never sure if you could've gotten someone a bigger refund or if you even did the return correctly. Having the taxpayer sign a release form that "remises, releases, acquits, satisfies, waives, indemnifies, holds harmless, exonerates and forever discharges" us from "any and all claims, demands, accounts, sums of money, torts, trespasses, expenses, ...which may have as a result of personal injury or damage to or loss of property while receiving" our tax services is only a slight relief in the sense that I know I can't be sued for screwing up, but it still wouldn't alleviate the guilt. Aside from that, what makes this experience worth it is in seeing the lit up faces of taxpayers when they're told that they will be receiving a much needed four or five thousand dollar refund.
During the day when we're not providing tax assistance, which is often, we pass the time by contemplating our navels or planning our life after Americorps. I've done much of both, and as of right now, I'm keeping all options open about where I'll be or what I'll be doing after July 1st. In other words, I don't have a job and need one.
My team leaves Miami this Saturday to return to Charleston for a few days before we begin our next project next week. We have been assigned to High Point, North Carolina for an education project. We will be tutoring at four elementary schools during the day and running an after school program at a local Boys and Girls Club which is also where we'll be staying.
In other news, I'm delighted to report that I managed to take some days off from Americorps to go to Hawaii for the Kaimana Klassik XVII Ultimate Frisbee tournament this past weekend. It was wonderful seeing Whiptail alums Merritt, Cara, Lin, Marta, Andra, and Brynne, and in Hawaii no less! We played ultimate against a gorgeous backdrop of green mountains and camped by a beach of white sands and clear blue water. I had a terrific time. All I have left to say about Whiptail reunions is that I like it, I love it, and I want more of it!
Blogger's note: After four years since the last non-Millyfest Whiptail reunion, the alums are once again discussing the prospect of forming an alum team for a tournament in 2009. Finally!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My Life Circa 2003 - Part 2
Sent November 18, 2003:
Hello all,
I'm back in Charleston, having returned from my project at the Mississippi State Hospital. The project went really well and we accomplished everything that we had set out to do. Over the course of three weeks, my team searched for and excavated over 3,500 headstones that were buried beneath inches (sometimes over a foot) of dirt and grass, and remodeled the outdoor chapel used for funeral services at the cemetery. We filled in sunken graves with new dirt, realigned any headstones that had gone astray, and raked and cleared off unearthed dirt and dead brush around the headstones. For the chapel, we re-shingled the roof, removed and installed new railings, removed old siding and nailed in new siding, and caulked and primed everything for painting.
Blogger's note: While digging, favorite songs to listen to included: Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust," U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," and Dave Matthew's "Grave Digger" (not to be confused with Kanye's "Gold Digger"). It's strange to think that less than five years ago, I was still toting around a clunky portable CD player and buying CDs at a music store.
We also learned about the hospital and the different types of treatments it provides for its psychiatric patients. Some of my teammates shadowed staff in the forensics and chemical dependency units, and all of us attended sessions on music and art therapy. We also visited the hospital museum which is located in the original building where treatments such as electric shock and hydrotherapy were given to the patients.
We learned that a prominent artist named Walter Anderson whose art exhibit is currently at the Mississippi Museum of Art was once a patient at MSH (they seemed quite proud of that fact). The woman who gave us a tour of the campus was also proud to tell us that several movies have been filmed at campus including "A Time to Kill" (starring Matthew McConaughey, Sandra Bullock, and Morgan Freeman).
Blogger's note: According to Wikipedia, Walter Anderson often plotted elaborate escapes from the various mental hospitals at which he was a patient. "During one of several escapes from the Mississippi State Hospital, he lowered himself on bedsheets from a second-story window, leaving the brick walls festooned with drawings of birds in flight, done in soap."
While we didn't have much opportunity to work with living patients, we did interact with a few patients in the dining hall where we ate our meals. One patient took a particular liking to our group and he often spoke to us during lunch. I didn't know that he was a patient at first because he often ate in the dining hall designated for hospital employees.
Blogger's note: I'll admit it, I thought this dude was sketchy from the very beginning. But it being my first foray into the Deep South, I tried to keep an open mind. Still, it was difficult for me not to take offense when he said, "No, where are you really from?" after I had replied, "New York," the first time he asked the question. I also tried not to feel uncomfortable by his open disdain of the "Northern aggression" (in referring to the Civil War). What probably should have tipped us off was his conviction of the existence of buried treasure on the hospital grounds.
After our second interaction with him, I finally noticed the green bracelet on his wrist. The color green meant that the patient had reached the highest level of privileges, allowing him to walk around campus without supervision. This e-mail would get too long if I went on to talk about all the kinds of advice he tried to give the women on our team.
Blogger's note: One of the relationship tips he dispensed was how to gauge a potential suitor's worthiness. We should only marry a man if he expresses concern for our spiritual well-being, and to find out if he does, we must ask him, "Do you care about my spiritual well-being?" So readers, don't forget to include that little criteria in your quest for true love.
The city of Jackson does not offer much for its tourists. Save a few museums and the governor's mansion, there wasn't a whole lot to see or do downtown. So instead of hanging out in Jackson on the weekends, we took off for Vicksburg one weekend for a driving tour of a civil war park consisting of monuments dedicated to all the battalions that fought in the war. The 16-mile tour only reminded us of our cemetery back at MSH so we quickly found a short cut out of the park and went exploring elsewhere. We spent the second weekend in New Orleans and stayed at a teammate's house in Slidell. After a raucous night of partying on Bourbon Street on Saturday, we did an independent service project at a local convenant house the next day, washing windows and sanding down railings to prepare for a new coat of paint.
On our way back to Charleston at the end of last week, we made a stop in Atlanta, GA for half a day. I visited the High Folk Art and Photography gallery for a photo exhibit of Aperture at 50: Past Forward. I also took a CNN studio tour at their headquarters which, quite frankly, sucked.
Blogger's note: In the original e-mail, I had written a more detailed description of the CNN tour but after reading it now, I decided that "sucked" would suffice.
Tomorrow, we'll begin our second project at Mepkin Abbey in Moncks Corner, SC, home to Trappist monks. The project is short - only 6 working days. We'll be helping out in their library and botanical garden. I hear the abbey is beautiful and am excited to take a break from digging.
Blogger's note: Mepkin Abbey, as recently as 2007, stirred some controversy when PETA released a video showing the abbey's egg farming operations that involved de-beaking hens and forced molting practices.
And more news! We recently were told about our third project, which is to begin right after Thanksgiving weekend and to continue after our winter break until near the end of February. My team will be heading down to Miami, Florida to help the Hispanic and Creole communities of the city file their taxes. For about two weeks (Dec. 1-12) we will receive training on how exactly to do someone's taxes (good practical skill to learn for the future) and then when we come back after winter break, we'll begin the actual work. We'll be living in a hotel (we're going to be so spoiled!) and my team will be working in pairs in different communities/neighborhoods in the city.
I want to start learning some Spanish, so if any of you have recommendations for specific teach-yourself-Spanish books/CDs please let me know, or if you want to email me some essential Spanish vocab/phrases, feel free to do so.
Blogger's note: I purchased one of those teach-yourself-Spanish book and CD sets only to learn that the community to which I was assigned (Model City, aka Liberty City) was predominantly African American. The only Spanish I've picked up between 2003 and now was when my family took a vacation to Mexico in 2004 and I learned to say, "Por favor, donde esta el bano? Gracias!" ("Please, where is the bathroom? Thank you!")
Stayed tuned for Part 3.
Hello all,
I'm back in Charleston, having returned from my project at the Mississippi State Hospital. The project went really well and we accomplished everything that we had set out to do. Over the course of three weeks, my team searched for and excavated over 3,500 headstones that were buried beneath inches (sometimes over a foot) of dirt and grass, and remodeled the outdoor chapel used for funeral services at the cemetery. We filled in sunken graves with new dirt, realigned any headstones that had gone astray, and raked and cleared off unearthed dirt and dead brush around the headstones. For the chapel, we re-shingled the roof, removed and installed new railings, removed old siding and nailed in new siding, and caulked and primed everything for painting.
Blogger's note: While digging, favorite songs to listen to included: Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust," U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," and Dave Matthew's "Grave Digger" (not to be confused with Kanye's "Gold Digger"). It's strange to think that less than five years ago, I was still toting around a clunky portable CD player and buying CDs at a music store.
We also learned about the hospital and the different types of treatments it provides for its psychiatric patients. Some of my teammates shadowed staff in the forensics and chemical dependency units, and all of us attended sessions on music and art therapy. We also visited the hospital museum which is located in the original building where treatments such as electric shock and hydrotherapy were given to the patients.
We learned that a prominent artist named Walter Anderson whose art exhibit is currently at the Mississippi Museum of Art was once a patient at MSH (they seemed quite proud of that fact). The woman who gave us a tour of the campus was also proud to tell us that several movies have been filmed at campus including "A Time to Kill" (starring Matthew McConaughey, Sandra Bullock, and Morgan Freeman).
Blogger's note: According to Wikipedia, Walter Anderson often plotted elaborate escapes from the various mental hospitals at which he was a patient. "During one of several escapes from the Mississippi State Hospital, he lowered himself on bedsheets from a second-story window, leaving the brick walls festooned with drawings of birds in flight, done in soap."
While we didn't have much opportunity to work with living patients, we did interact with a few patients in the dining hall where we ate our meals. One patient took a particular liking to our group and he often spoke to us during lunch. I didn't know that he was a patient at first because he often ate in the dining hall designated for hospital employees.
Blogger's note: I'll admit it, I thought this dude was sketchy from the very beginning. But it being my first foray into the Deep South, I tried to keep an open mind. Still, it was difficult for me not to take offense when he said, "No, where are you really from?" after I had replied, "New York," the first time he asked the question. I also tried not to feel uncomfortable by his open disdain of the "Northern aggression" (in referring to the Civil War). What probably should have tipped us off was his conviction of the existence of buried treasure on the hospital grounds.
After our second interaction with him, I finally noticed the green bracelet on his wrist. The color green meant that the patient had reached the highest level of privileges, allowing him to walk around campus without supervision. This e-mail would get too long if I went on to talk about all the kinds of advice he tried to give the women on our team.
Blogger's note: One of the relationship tips he dispensed was how to gauge a potential suitor's worthiness. We should only marry a man if he expresses concern for our spiritual well-being, and to find out if he does, we must ask him, "Do you care about my spiritual well-being?" So readers, don't forget to include that little criteria in your quest for true love.
The city of Jackson does not offer much for its tourists. Save a few museums and the governor's mansion, there wasn't a whole lot to see or do downtown. So instead of hanging out in Jackson on the weekends, we took off for Vicksburg one weekend for a driving tour of a civil war park consisting of monuments dedicated to all the battalions that fought in the war. The 16-mile tour only reminded us of our cemetery back at MSH so we quickly found a short cut out of the park and went exploring elsewhere. We spent the second weekend in New Orleans and stayed at a teammate's house in Slidell. After a raucous night of partying on Bourbon Street on Saturday, we did an independent service project at a local convenant house the next day, washing windows and sanding down railings to prepare for a new coat of paint.
On our way back to Charleston at the end of last week, we made a stop in Atlanta, GA for half a day. I visited the High Folk Art and Photography gallery for a photo exhibit of Aperture at 50: Past Forward. I also took a CNN studio tour at their headquarters which, quite frankly, sucked.
Blogger's note: In the original e-mail, I had written a more detailed description of the CNN tour but after reading it now, I decided that "sucked" would suffice.
Tomorrow, we'll begin our second project at Mepkin Abbey in Moncks Corner, SC, home to Trappist monks. The project is short - only 6 working days. We'll be helping out in their library and botanical garden. I hear the abbey is beautiful and am excited to take a break from digging.
Blogger's note: Mepkin Abbey, as recently as 2007, stirred some controversy when PETA released a video showing the abbey's egg farming operations that involved de-beaking hens and forced molting practices.
And more news! We recently were told about our third project, which is to begin right after Thanksgiving weekend and to continue after our winter break until near the end of February. My team will be heading down to Miami, Florida to help the Hispanic and Creole communities of the city file their taxes. For about two weeks (Dec. 1-12) we will receive training on how exactly to do someone's taxes (good practical skill to learn for the future) and then when we come back after winter break, we'll begin the actual work. We'll be living in a hotel (we're going to be so spoiled!) and my team will be working in pairs in different communities/neighborhoods in the city.
I want to start learning some Spanish, so if any of you have recommendations for specific teach-yourself-Spanish books/CDs please let me know, or if you want to email me some essential Spanish vocab/phrases, feel free to do so.
Blogger's note: I purchased one of those teach-yourself-Spanish book and CD sets only to learn that the community to which I was assigned (Model City, aka Liberty City) was predominantly African American. The only Spanish I've picked up between 2003 and now was when my family took a vacation to Mexico in 2004 and I learned to say, "Por favor, donde esta el bano? Gracias!" ("Please, where is the bathroom? Thank you!")
Stayed tuned for Part 3.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
My Life Circa 2003 - Part 1
It's near the end of August and I have neglected to post on this blog until now in part due to the busy club ultimate season. I'm also very boring and don't have exciting things to report now that I work a desk job. So rather than write new material, I'm resurrecting the past. I will share, in a 4-part series, e-mail updates I sent to friends and family during my AmeriCorps days that chronicled the service projects I worked on from 2003 to 2004 (back when I was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and a little more interesting).
Aside from some minor editing, the content is the original.
Sent October 25, 2003:
Hi all!
I just finished my first month here in Charleston. It feels like I've been here for a lot longer than a month but at the same time I'm surprised to see how quickly time has passed. Because what I'm doing is not a typical 9-5pm office job, it feels like I'm on an extended summer break, especially because it's still warm here and I've hit the beach every weekend so far. And with everyone being between the ages of 18 and 24, it feels like college all over again except there's no homework and it's coed, which means I actually interact with males more than once every few months.
My team has worked on several short-term service projects during our month of training. We've dug out water pipes from the ground, built fences for a garden show, sorted donated shoes for Goodwill, tied pink ribbons to mark the course for Race for the Cure (for breast cancer), and worked in a Habitat for Humanity resale store doing everything from reorganizing their bookroom to building shelves and lugging window frames from one end of the warehouse to another.
We've also done some independent service work outside of the program on weekends. So far, my team has directed parking for a rock concert benefiting children with autism and painted rocking chairs for the Ronald McDonald house, which is a charity that provides parents of children who are sick and need long-term treatment at a hospital with nearby housing (a room in the Ronald McDonald house) so they do not need to travel far to be with their children.
We also helped an animal rescue organization called the Keeper of the Wild, which is really run by one woman (aka the Keeper) who cares for injured and sick wild raccoons, prairie dogs, squirrels, foxes, possums, and skunks. She has a 15 year-old squirrel as a pet. Squirrels in the wild generally live up to only 2 or 3 years but if kept in captivity can live up to 18 years. This geriatric squirrel was so old he had lost over 50% of his fur and was completely toothless and wrinkled. (Think Grandpa without his clothes on). JSo- even YOU wouldn't want to keep this little guy as a pet!
While doing yardwork at Keeper of the Wild, we encountered a copperhead snake that slithered into our work area within a few feet of us. It didn't seem like a big deal until I was told that it was poisonous and in pounce mode (whoa!). We notified the Keeper who nonchalantly, while talking on her cellphone, took one of our shovels, flung the snake into an open space away from us, and basically ripped it into pieces. It was mesmerizing to watch. That snake, as vicious as it had seemed to the rest of us, didn't have a chance against the Keeper!
We recently were briefed about two of our future long-term spike projects that will take place between the end of October (next week) and Thanksgiving. For the first project, which will be 3 weeks long, we will be in Jackson, Mississippi working in a psychiatric ward of the Mississippi State Hospital. We were told that this mental hospital is one of the largest in the United States. Our primary project, however, does not entirely involve working with live patients. Instead, we will be working in a graveyard that contains about 4,000 corpses of psychiatric patients dating back to the 1930s. Due to the stigma of mental illness, none of these patients were given a proper burial. Many but not all have only small markers to indicate their approximate location. We'll be working with hospital staff and archaeologists to locate the bodies and help prepare the pouring of the headstones for them. Besides this job, we'll also be doing carpentry work of repairing a chapel on the hospital grounds and spending time with the patients (all senior citizens) at the psychiatric ward. We leave for this project next Monday!
Our second project will be back in Charleston and we'll be working with monks at a local abbey. Our project will involve mostly gardening work and carpentry. We have been invited to join the monks for a silent meal as most of them have taken a vow of silence, which will be interesting.
End of Part 1.
Notes: Back in the stone age of 2003, none of us owned digital cameras. The next time I go home, I'll try to scan some to post (there are some real gems in my photo collection).
Aside from some minor editing, the content is the original.
Sent October 25, 2003:
Hi all!
I just finished my first month here in Charleston. It feels like I've been here for a lot longer than a month but at the same time I'm surprised to see how quickly time has passed. Because what I'm doing is not a typical 9-5pm office job, it feels like I'm on an extended summer break, especially because it's still warm here and I've hit the beach every weekend so far. And with everyone being between the ages of 18 and 24, it feels like college all over again except there's no homework and it's coed, which means I actually interact with males more than once every few months.
My team has worked on several short-term service projects during our month of training. We've dug out water pipes from the ground, built fences for a garden show, sorted donated shoes for Goodwill, tied pink ribbons to mark the course for Race for the Cure (for breast cancer), and worked in a Habitat for Humanity resale store doing everything from reorganizing their bookroom to building shelves and lugging window frames from one end of the warehouse to another.
We've also done some independent service work outside of the program on weekends. So far, my team has directed parking for a rock concert benefiting children with autism and painted rocking chairs for the Ronald McDonald house, which is a charity that provides parents of children who are sick and need long-term treatment at a hospital with nearby housing (a room in the Ronald McDonald house) so they do not need to travel far to be with their children.
We also helped an animal rescue organization called the Keeper of the Wild, which is really run by one woman (aka the Keeper) who cares for injured and sick wild raccoons, prairie dogs, squirrels, foxes, possums, and skunks. She has a 15 year-old squirrel as a pet. Squirrels in the wild generally live up to only 2 or 3 years but if kept in captivity can live up to 18 years. This geriatric squirrel was so old he had lost over 50% of his fur and was completely toothless and wrinkled. (Think Grandpa without his clothes on). JSo- even YOU wouldn't want to keep this little guy as a pet!
While doing yardwork at Keeper of the Wild, we encountered a copperhead snake that slithered into our work area within a few feet of us. It didn't seem like a big deal until I was told that it was poisonous and in pounce mode (whoa!). We notified the Keeper who nonchalantly, while talking on her cellphone, took one of our shovels, flung the snake into an open space away from us, and basically ripped it into pieces. It was mesmerizing to watch. That snake, as vicious as it had seemed to the rest of us, didn't have a chance against the Keeper!
We recently were briefed about two of our future long-term spike projects that will take place between the end of October (next week) and Thanksgiving. For the first project, which will be 3 weeks long, we will be in Jackson, Mississippi working in a psychiatric ward of the Mississippi State Hospital. We were told that this mental hospital is one of the largest in the United States. Our primary project, however, does not entirely involve working with live patients. Instead, we will be working in a graveyard that contains about 4,000 corpses of psychiatric patients dating back to the 1930s. Due to the stigma of mental illness, none of these patients were given a proper burial. Many but not all have only small markers to indicate their approximate location. We'll be working with hospital staff and archaeologists to locate the bodies and help prepare the pouring of the headstones for them. Besides this job, we'll also be doing carpentry work of repairing a chapel on the hospital grounds and spending time with the patients (all senior citizens) at the psychiatric ward. We leave for this project next Monday!
Our second project will be back in Charleston and we'll be working with monks at a local abbey. Our project will involve mostly gardening work and carpentry. We have been invited to join the monks for a silent meal as most of them have taken a vow of silence, which will be interesting.
End of Part 1.
Notes: Back in the stone age of 2003, none of us owned digital cameras. The next time I go home, I'll try to scan some to post (there are some real gems in my photo collection).
Friday, July 25, 2008
Why I love the Aussies and the Kiwis
Reasons #219 and #305
"A man in New Zealand has been charged with using a hedgehog as a weapon, the New Zealand Herald has reported. Police said William Singalargh, 27, had hurled the hedgehog about 5m (16ft) at a 15-year-old boy. ...It was unclear whether the hedgehog was still alive when it was thrown, though it was dead when collected as evidence." - BBC News, April 7, 2008 (courtesy of Lesley)
Go to the article to get the full story.
"A family court judge in New Zealand has had enough with parents giving their children bizarre names. So he did something about it. Just ask Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii. He had her renamed. Judge Rob Murfitt made the 9-year-old girl a ward of the court so that her name could be changed. The new name was not made public to protect the girl's privacy. 'The court is profoundly concerned about the very poor judgment which this child's parents have shown in choosing this name,' he wrote. 'It makes a fool of the child and sets her up with a social disability and handicap, unnecessarily.' " - Express, July 25, 2008
Who needs an imagination when you have the Express reporting gems like this?
Thank you, Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii, for bringing joy to my Friday.
"A man in New Zealand has been charged with using a hedgehog as a weapon, the New Zealand Herald has reported. Police said William Singalargh, 27, had hurled the hedgehog about 5m (16ft) at a 15-year-old boy. ...It was unclear whether the hedgehog was still alive when it was thrown, though it was dead when collected as evidence." - BBC News, April 7, 2008 (courtesy of Lesley)
Go to the article to get the full story.
"A family court judge in New Zealand has had enough with parents giving their children bizarre names. So he did something about it. Just ask Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii. He had her renamed. Judge Rob Murfitt made the 9-year-old girl a ward of the court so that her name could be changed. The new name was not made public to protect the girl's privacy. 'The court is profoundly concerned about the very poor judgment which this child's parents have shown in choosing this name,' he wrote. 'It makes a fool of the child and sets her up with a social disability and handicap, unnecessarily.' " - Express, July 25, 2008
Who needs an imagination when you have the Express reporting gems like this?
Thank you, Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii, for bringing joy to my Friday.
Friday, July 04, 2008
On the Road
While millions of Americans are performing their patriotic duty of firing up their grills and throwing back a beer (or six) in their backyards, I am sitting on a New York-bound Bolt Bus, eating a bag of Sun chips and blogging with free wi-fi.
For $5.50 more than a round-trip Chinatown bus ticket, I get internet, an electrical outlet, pleather seats that actually recline, and a two-seater all to myself. Moreover, the bus left on time, there are no stops in Baltimore, and I didn't have to break out my nun-chucks to battle for a seat. (The typical Chinatown bus experience, especially over holiday weekends, is that no seat is guaranteed even if you book online in advance. Sometimes I have no choice but to get all Chuck Norris on people just so I don't get left behind.)
This past week I started running for the first time since I injured by ankle on June 1st. The swelling hasn't fully gone away and it still feels sore and achy, but I felt that it was time to start working out again. I am miserably out of shape. While jogging on the treadmill yesterday, I could hear my ankle crackle and pop like a bowl of rice krispies.
To add insult to injury, I also had to deal with a bout of illness a couple of weeks ago. Ever since I moved back to DC and have been living with my family, I've been getting sick - a lot. And whom do I hold responsible for these ailments? A young, active, germ magnet of smurf-like stature named Ella. When Ella comes home from school, she brings back with her more than just some arts & crafts project she made that day. I managed to escape the last round of pink eye and strep throat, but I didn't get so lucky with the hand, foot, and mouth disease. It sounds a little repulsive, I know, but it mostly felt like I had the flu with the added bonus of a light rash on my hands and feet and one or two canker-like sores in my mouth that disappeared after a few days.
I have developed this theory that there is a negative correlation between the size of a potential carrier of disease and the deadliness of the disease to humans. In other words, the smaller the carrier, the more lethal the disease it carries and vice-versa. In support of this theory, I have the following examples as evidence:
1. When have you heard of a very large animal such as a polar bear or humpback whale causing pandemics? Being eaten by a shark doesn't count.
2. Some medium sized animals can transmit disease to humans but cases are rare and not widespread (so far). Example: Cows and Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (BSE), commonly known as mad-cow disease. Maybe the next time you're at the grocery store, instead of asking, "Where the beef?" you may want to inquire about tofu instead.
3. Animals that fall in the "small" category can pose relatively medium to high risk to humans. Example: birds and avian flu. You can also put small human children in this category.
4. Super small beasts = super deadly. Example: mosquitoes that spread malaria and itching. Those little buzzards can raise a lot of hell for humans.
I think I have just made a very compelling argument for my theory, don't you think?
Judging by the content of the last dozen or so entries, I should just rename this blog "A Chronicle of Boo's Afflictions, Dysfunctions, and Postulations." Actually I just did.
For $5.50 more than a round-trip Chinatown bus ticket, I get internet, an electrical outlet, pleather seats that actually recline, and a two-seater all to myself. Moreover, the bus left on time, there are no stops in Baltimore, and I didn't have to break out my nun-chucks to battle for a seat. (The typical Chinatown bus experience, especially over holiday weekends, is that no seat is guaranteed even if you book online in advance. Sometimes I have no choice but to get all Chuck Norris on people just so I don't get left behind.)
This past week I started running for the first time since I injured by ankle on June 1st. The swelling hasn't fully gone away and it still feels sore and achy, but I felt that it was time to start working out again. I am miserably out of shape. While jogging on the treadmill yesterday, I could hear my ankle crackle and pop like a bowl of rice krispies.
To add insult to injury, I also had to deal with a bout of illness a couple of weeks ago. Ever since I moved back to DC and have been living with my family, I've been getting sick - a lot. And whom do I hold responsible for these ailments? A young, active, germ magnet of smurf-like stature named Ella. When Ella comes home from school, she brings back with her more than just some arts & crafts project she made that day. I managed to escape the last round of pink eye and strep throat, but I didn't get so lucky with the hand, foot, and mouth disease. It sounds a little repulsive, I know, but it mostly felt like I had the flu with the added bonus of a light rash on my hands and feet and one or two canker-like sores in my mouth that disappeared after a few days.
I have developed this theory that there is a negative correlation between the size of a potential carrier of disease and the deadliness of the disease to humans. In other words, the smaller the carrier, the more lethal the disease it carries and vice-versa. In support of this theory, I have the following examples as evidence:
1. When have you heard of a very large animal such as a polar bear or humpback whale causing pandemics? Being eaten by a shark doesn't count.
2. Some medium sized animals can transmit disease to humans but cases are rare and not widespread (so far). Example: Cows and Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (BSE), commonly known as mad-cow disease. Maybe the next time you're at the grocery store, instead of asking, "Where the beef?" you may want to inquire about tofu instead.
3. Animals that fall in the "small" category can pose relatively medium to high risk to humans. Example: birds and avian flu. You can also put small human children in this category.
4. Super small beasts = super deadly. Example: mosquitoes that spread malaria and itching. Those little buzzards can raise a lot of hell for humans.
I think I have just made a very compelling argument for my theory, don't you think?
Judging by the content of the last dozen or so entries, I should just rename this blog "A Chronicle of Boo's Afflictions, Dysfunctions, and Postulations." Actually I just did.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
RICEing like a Good Asian
Every week I come up with all sorts of things to blog about, but 99% of those ideas inevitably travel out of my head and over to la la land, never to surface again. What you see on this blog is the remaining 1%: a medley of randomness. This entry is no different.
The process of blogging for me is akin to running a marathon in a bear suit with a sack of bricks attached to my ass. That is to say, slow and painful but with an occasional sprinkle of amusements to myself and others.
On the topic of slow and painful, a few days after I sprained my ankle, I made an appointment to see a doctor and take an x-ray. The morning before the appointment, I hobbled past the reception desk at my office. The receptionist noticed my limp and asked what had happened to my foot. When I told her about rolling it while playing Ultimate, she responded by saying, "I have a friend whose daughter sprained her ankle. She went to the hospital to get it checked out. She developed a blood clot from the sprain. And died."
Well, that pretty much killed the conversation. In addition to hoping that it was not a break or fracture, I added to my list of desired outcomes: not die.
Fortunately, my injury was a sprain and not a break or fracture. In addition to the usual RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) treatment, my doctor wrapped my ankle and prescribed 60 tablets of 600mg ibuprofen before sending me on my way. When I picked up my medication from the pharmacy, I almost asked the guy behind the counter if he had made a mistake by giving me pills meant for a horse.
One of these tablets can substitute for a whole meal.
My ankle injury has forced me to stop playing Ultimate and disengage from most forms of physical activity. The most physical effort I've exerted in the last couple of weeks was to scurry across the street in a deformed and panicked fashion to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic.
In addition to my awkward gait, all this inactivity has had an inflating effect on my paunch. Here's a picture of me current as of today:
I really need to get better soon.
The process of blogging for me is akin to running a marathon in a bear suit with a sack of bricks attached to my ass. That is to say, slow and painful but with an occasional sprinkle of amusements to myself and others.
On the topic of slow and painful, a few days after I sprained my ankle, I made an appointment to see a doctor and take an x-ray. The morning before the appointment, I hobbled past the reception desk at my office. The receptionist noticed my limp and asked what had happened to my foot. When I told her about rolling it while playing Ultimate, she responded by saying, "I have a friend whose daughter sprained her ankle. She went to the hospital to get it checked out. She developed a blood clot from the sprain. And died."
Well, that pretty much killed the conversation. In addition to hoping that it was not a break or fracture, I added to my list of desired outcomes: not die.
Fortunately, my injury was a sprain and not a break or fracture. In addition to the usual RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) treatment, my doctor wrapped my ankle and prescribed 60 tablets of 600mg ibuprofen before sending me on my way. When I picked up my medication from the pharmacy, I almost asked the guy behind the counter if he had made a mistake by giving me pills meant for a horse.
One of these tablets can substitute for a whole meal.My ankle injury has forced me to stop playing Ultimate and disengage from most forms of physical activity. The most physical effort I've exerted in the last couple of weeks was to scurry across the street in a deformed and panicked fashion to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic.
In addition to my awkward gait, all this inactivity has had an inflating effect on my paunch. Here's a picture of me current as of today:
I really need to get better soon.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Happy Birthday, Blog!
While deeply enmeshed in a seemingly futile research task for work, I suddenly realized that two years ago today, I published the first post on this infamous blog to herald my foray into grad school in Australia. This is quite the milestone for me, so of course I dropped everything I was doing in order to inform my readership of three of this happiness.
So a big YAY for the blog whose number of name changes rivals the number of entries on it!
And here's hoping to many more birthdays!
So a big YAY for the blog whose number of name changes rivals the number of entries on it!
And here's hoping to many more birthdays!
Sunday, June 01, 2008
"Just Call Me a Freakazoid"
-- says my niece whose face and body are all splotchy from a reaction to an antibiotic she was taking to get rid of strep throat. My poor little leprotic-looking niece. It's too bad; this might lower the price we can fetch for her on eBay.
Just kidding.
On to more serious matters.
Today, I "caught" a disc with my chin at club practice, which I don't recommend as an effective catching technique. And later, during a semi-final match for B league playoffs, I badly rolled my ankle in the fourth point that took me out of the rest of the game. Frustrated, I watched my team get spanked and handed our first, last, and only loss of the season, while I sat helpless on the sideline with a swollen ankle that is now the size of a golf ball. To add insult to injury, I am sunburned (where? on my face, Deb) with a prominent backwards-trucker-hat-band tan line across my forehead. It's a really hot look, let me tell you.
Limping to work this week will be so much fun!
Just kidding.
On to more serious matters.
Today, I "caught" a disc with my chin at club practice, which I don't recommend as an effective catching technique. And later, during a semi-final match for B league playoffs, I badly rolled my ankle in the fourth point that took me out of the rest of the game. Frustrated, I watched my team get spanked and handed our first, last, and only loss of the season, while I sat helpless on the sideline with a swollen ankle that is now the size of a golf ball. To add insult to injury, I am sunburned (where? on my face, Deb) with a prominent backwards-trucker-hat-band tan line across my forehead. It's a really hot look, let me tell you.
Limping to work this week will be so much fun!
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Overheard
Overheard at the Gallery Place-Chinatown metro station:
Some dorky guys in suits (probably Hill staffers) on a Saturday night--
Guy 1: You know what's out [of style]? Jean shorts.
Guy 2: Yeah, seriously, that's so uncool.
Guy 3: Well, I actually got a great deal on a pair a while ago.
Guy 1: Just because something is cheap doesn't mean it's good.
Guy 3: I got them at some store that was going out of business.
Guy 1: Was it a jean shorts store?
Guy 3: No, it was that store that got bought out by Macy's. What was it called?
Guy 2: No clue.
Guy 3: Maybe it was Marshall-Fields.
Guy 1: Don't they make cookies?
Guy 3: That's Mrs. Fields.
Guy 1: Oh, man, those cookies are so good.
Guy 3: Anyway, the shorts were a good deal.
And on and on, but I had stopped listening at that point.
Some dorky guys in suits (probably Hill staffers) on a Saturday night--
Guy 1: You know what's out [of style]? Jean shorts.
Guy 2: Yeah, seriously, that's so uncool.
Guy 3: Well, I actually got a great deal on a pair a while ago.
Guy 1: Just because something is cheap doesn't mean it's good.
Guy 3: I got them at some store that was going out of business.
Guy 1: Was it a jean shorts store?
Guy 3: No, it was that store that got bought out by Macy's. What was it called?
Guy 2: No clue.
Guy 3: Maybe it was Marshall-Fields.
Guy 1: Don't they make cookies?
Guy 3: That's Mrs. Fields.
Guy 1: Oh, man, those cookies are so good.
Guy 3: Anyway, the shorts were a good deal.
And on and on, but I had stopped listening at that point.
Friday, April 18, 2008
This is the song that never ends...
Thank you, Henry, for having so much time on your hands and sharing this with me while I am at work frantically finishing up a task before leaving for an ultimate tournament.
While listening to this, I could only think of one person who would find it as amusing, if not much more so, than I did -- Grandma D.
Perhaps this is not something I should not admit openly, but I did enjoy parts of it. What does that say about my taste in music? Don't answer that.
http://blog.wired.com/music/2008/04/a-scientific-at.html
While listening to this, I could only think of one person who would find it as amusing, if not much more so, than I did -- Grandma D.
Perhaps this is not something I should not admit openly, but I did enjoy parts of it. What does that say about my taste in music? Don't answer that.
http://blog.wired.com/music/2008/04/a-scientific-at.html
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
California Dreaming
I think recruiting guest bloggers has made me lazy about writing my own blog entries. My other excuse is that I have been away on vacation in SoCal. I must have had too much fun there because it's been a week since my return and I'm still recovering from my trip.
One thing I discovered while I was in California was that a public transportation system consisting of trains and buses really does exist in Los Angeles. Not only does it exist, I even used it! I was inexplicably as excited to ride a public bus in LA as I was to visit the friend in Santa Monica to where I had to take said bus.
I could probably spend several long paragraphs describing in gory detail my solitary journey from Pasadena to Santa Monica, but my bed is calling. To those even remotely curious however, I will report that to get from downtown LA to Santa Monica by bus is not exactly the most efficient method - it takes close to two hours - but the up side is that it's really cheap. It costs less than $2 full fare; or 30 cents for a transfer if you connect to it from a train; or in my case, free because the fare machine was broken. That is assuming, however, that you can figure out which bus to take to begin with (I spent nearly 15 minutes wheeling my luggage up and down the bus terminal in downtown in search of the appropriate bus. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers).
Another benefit of riding a public bus - once you're on the right one - is that you might get a friendly driver named Ron who, incidentally, bears a striking resemblance to the Baldwin brothers. Homeboy kept my ears busy for an hour and forty-two minutes. When he found out that I live in DC, our conversation immediately veered toward the topic of politics - because physical proximity to Congressional buildings automatically makes you a political pundit. Clearly.
At times, Ron became so impassioned by what he was saying to me that he spent more time looking at me than at the road. I did my best to stay brave during these moments. His talking and my fearing for my life kept me from succumbing to the urge to nap during the ride. I rode bus 337 to Santa Monica Boulevard, the final stop, and by the end had formed such an attachment to Ron that I felt sad to leave him.
I need to end this entry before I really turn up the cheese, but before I do, below is a photo snapped right before my plane descended into LAX airport. Despite the toxic smog, endless sprawl, and road rage-inducing traffic, I still feel a fondness for LA and SoCal.
One thing I discovered while I was in California was that a public transportation system consisting of trains and buses really does exist in Los Angeles. Not only does it exist, I even used it! I was inexplicably as excited to ride a public bus in LA as I was to visit the friend in Santa Monica to where I had to take said bus.
I could probably spend several long paragraphs describing in gory detail my solitary journey from Pasadena to Santa Monica, but my bed is calling. To those even remotely curious however, I will report that to get from downtown LA to Santa Monica by bus is not exactly the most efficient method - it takes close to two hours - but the up side is that it's really cheap. It costs less than $2 full fare; or 30 cents for a transfer if you connect to it from a train; or in my case, free because the fare machine was broken. That is assuming, however, that you can figure out which bus to take to begin with (I spent nearly 15 minutes wheeling my luggage up and down the bus terminal in downtown in search of the appropriate bus. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers).
Another benefit of riding a public bus - once you're on the right one - is that you might get a friendly driver named Ron who, incidentally, bears a striking resemblance to the Baldwin brothers. Homeboy kept my ears busy for an hour and forty-two minutes. When he found out that I live in DC, our conversation immediately veered toward the topic of politics - because physical proximity to Congressional buildings automatically makes you a political pundit. Clearly.
At times, Ron became so impassioned by what he was saying to me that he spent more time looking at me than at the road. I did my best to stay brave during these moments. His talking and my fearing for my life kept me from succumbing to the urge to nap during the ride. I rode bus 337 to Santa Monica Boulevard, the final stop, and by the end had formed such an attachment to Ron that I felt sad to leave him.
I need to end this entry before I really turn up the cheese, but before I do, below is a photo snapped right before my plane descended into LAX airport. Despite the toxic smog, endless sprawl, and road rage-inducing traffic, I still feel a fondness for LA and SoCal.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Special Guest Blogger
A couple of days ago, while telling a friend about my blogger's block, I came up with the idea of guest blog entries. Sometimes I become bored with my own writing. And if I get bored with my writing maybe the readers of this blog do too. So I asked this friend, or "Grandma" as she's known to some, to fill in for this month and she graciously humored my request. Enjoy and feel free to submit comments.
Grandma's entry:
"Perhaps this entry should be anonymous, as it describes in detail my descent into a life of crime. The story begins innocently enough when I decided to start biking to work. It’s a leisurely 1.5 mile commute, and there’s a bike rack right by my building. What I’ve noticed during my almost 2 years of parking there is that on this rack there is one bike that hasn’t moved. At first I noticed it collecting dust. Then one day, I noticed that half the rear fender had broken off. Later the seat was stolen. And still this bike hasn’t moved. Not an inch. I’m beginning to think no one is using this bike. Now normally this wouldn’t bother me, except the bike rack is getting pretty crowded, and this unused bike is taking up valuable real estate. I would move it myself except for the fact that the only thing of any value on this bicycle is the Kryptonite U-lock attaching it securely to the rack. (I wish I had a lock like that when my first bike was stolen from that very same rack).
Then, today, I had a moment of brilliance. I took a closer look at that U-lock and noticed that it has one of those circular key-holes, the kind that apparently are able to be picked with no more than a BiC pen. So I popped open a BiC pen and went down to the bike rack. This task was not as easy as the internet makes it appear. First, the pen wasn’t exactly the right diameter, so I stretched it out with a key and jammed it in. Then, all you’re supposed to have to do is twist, and the lock will come undone. The pen twisted, but the lock didn’t open. So my career as a master criminal ended as soon as it began. This is just as well, given that I went out in broad daylight and I’m pretty sure there would have been several eye-witnesses to my attempted theft. I left the pen in the lock, in hopes that a criminal more talented than I might hit the jackpot."
Added bonus video (also courtesy of Grandma): Do the Test
Grandma's entry:
"Perhaps this entry should be anonymous, as it describes in detail my descent into a life of crime. The story begins innocently enough when I decided to start biking to work. It’s a leisurely 1.5 mile commute, and there’s a bike rack right by my building. What I’ve noticed during my almost 2 years of parking there is that on this rack there is one bike that hasn’t moved. At first I noticed it collecting dust. Then one day, I noticed that half the rear fender had broken off. Later the seat was stolen. And still this bike hasn’t moved. Not an inch. I’m beginning to think no one is using this bike. Now normally this wouldn’t bother me, except the bike rack is getting pretty crowded, and this unused bike is taking up valuable real estate. I would move it myself except for the fact that the only thing of any value on this bicycle is the Kryptonite U-lock attaching it securely to the rack. (I wish I had a lock like that when my first bike was stolen from that very same rack).
Then, today, I had a moment of brilliance. I took a closer look at that U-lock and noticed that it has one of those circular key-holes, the kind that apparently are able to be picked with no more than a BiC pen. So I popped open a BiC pen and went down to the bike rack. This task was not as easy as the internet makes it appear. First, the pen wasn’t exactly the right diameter, so I stretched it out with a key and jammed it in. Then, all you’re supposed to have to do is twist, and the lock will come undone. The pen twisted, but the lock didn’t open. So my career as a master criminal ended as soon as it began. This is just as well, given that I went out in broad daylight and I’m pretty sure there would have been several eye-witnesses to my attempted theft. I left the pen in the lock, in hopes that a criminal more talented than I might hit the jackpot."
Added bonus video (also courtesy of Grandma): Do the Test
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