beterwas
honestly misbehaving
Archive for September, 2006
September 29, 2006 at 11:02 pm · Filed under Musings
It’s a beautiful Friday afternoon here in sunny Orlando, Florida. I’m sitting outside Crooked Bayou, one of my favorite places to eat and throw back a Guinness.
Sitting at a sidewalk table, typing on a laptop, makes you invisible after a time (and a few pints). Kimmy still knows I’m here, but to the rest of the world, I have become part of the background.
I can listen in to conversations with impunity, watch people walk and drive by and enjoy seeing people enjoy their lives and each other’s company. It’s very nice. Usually.
I’m always confounded by pretty girls. Most of them work very hard at being pretty, and yet there seems to be in a inverse ratio of work spent beautifying oneself to appreciation of having the results be admired. A lovely blond woman is walking down the street, and it’s clear that she spent a lot of time on her hair, makeup, clothing and the rest of what makes up “her look.” Yet, as I look over her look, she looks on me with contempt and some measure of disgust.
This isn’t why she went to all of that trouble? To be noticed? Am I wrong here? I wasn’t leering, drooling, wagging my tongue or masturbating as she walked by. I was merely admiring the results of her efforts. Other times, I’m seeing where they should have put the pencil down. Most women, IMO, are beautiful without any help. God gives you one face and you give yourselves another, the bard said.
So I question this reaction. I ask aloud “What is so wrong with admiring an attractive person?” And before I know what has happened, my “wha’ happen?” becomes a banner that reads “PIG!” And really, the issue is that the effort is not for me, and as such, I have no right to enjoy it.
Well, like the sunshine, blue sky and an afternoon at the Crooked Bayou, beauty is for all to enjoy.
September 24, 2006 at 9:51 pm · Filed under Finish Ahead
It all started with my VW Beetle. It was a 2004 model, and the first car I ever personally owned tha had cruise control. I loved driving it and would often find myself going ten, fifteen or even twenty miles over the speed limit. Speedtraps are common where I live, as are “double fine” zones - school zones, road construction, etc. - so it pays to be attentive.
I started using the cruise control in town, especially at night, and found it to take a surprising amount of stress out of driving. You don’t realize how much anxiety is wrapped up in having a police car pull up behind you, until you simply don’t care.
After a while, I got over the sensation of “going too slow” (as if travelling 50 feet per second was the same as walking), and began to “enjoy the ride.” My secret? I discovered that it takes me about the same amount of time to get wherever it is I’m going.
Soon, other benefits became apparent. I found myself catching fewer red lights, stopping for gas less often and cutting down on repairs (dad was right!).
About a year later, we bought a Passat. I was initially wary, because I thought the V6 engine would consume a lot of gas. It turns about to be pretty fuel efficient, though. It has one of those driving calculation displays that tells you mileage, drving time, average speed, etc. I try to see how high I can get the average mileage.
The current mileage indicator is fun, but I’ve gotten it up into triple digits (down a Lookout Mountain on I-95), so it isn’t terribly useful in that regard. It will tell you, however, that flooring it at the light gets you 3 MPG.
My average city mileage is 29 MPG, and on the highway, it’s 35 MPG, and in a 4-door V6.
I irritate the type A drivers, but that’s okay with me. I leave them to the cops I never worry about and the high-priced gas that I don’t need as much of, and I hum along on my way.
Slow and steady, it turns out, does win the race.
September 21, 2006 at 10:10 pm · Filed under Musings
No, I’m not in jail. A friend of mine knocked back a few too many last night, though, got in his car and ended up in the pokey.
It’s been a long day for me in the jail’s waiting room, though. It’s been an interesting exercise in people-watching.
First of all, bailing someone out always looks quick and painless on television. The person posting is always signing the last form as an officer brings out the embarrassed-looking perp.
That’s about as realistic as a 24 plot line.
I got the call from my friend at around 11:20 this morning. I was at the Booking and Release Center by noon, with a $500 money order in hand (and yes, it must be a money order). I filled out the requisite forms and then began my first wait. Before anyone can take my money, the good folks at Orange County Corrections have to be sure that they didn’t need to hold my friend for something else. I wondered why they didn’t check that when they booked him, but I’m certain they have their reasons.
That check took two hours.
During that time, I saw people come and go. An elderly couple sat for some time, looking with disdain at the mostly brown people coming and going. Whenever someone was released, the woman would just look at them and shake her head with disapproval - never mind that they were there to pick up their very own family criminal. She also lamented to her husband that so many of our tax dollars were wasted on the facility in which said criminal was currently residing.
I was also struck by the number of white, presumably English-speaking people that had such trouble understanding English. A large, easy-to-read sign at the entrance listed off a number of prohibited items, yet people strolled right in with sunglasses, food, lighters, knives, etc. The forms were all pretty basic - name, address, phone, etc. - yet, every conversation seemed drawn out with clarification questions “when it says address, does it mean my actual address? Because, well, here’s the story with that…” I never imagined that someone would have a “long story” about how their name wasn’t really their name.
Finally, there was the Army recruiter. One of his inductees had run afoul of the law and Uncle Sam had apparently determined that he could repay society better in Iraq (or Iran), so his charges were commuted. He was very interested in being the first one to see him when he was released. I have no idea how serious the new recruit’s crime was, but if you find yourself in the clink, and with very few options, maybe you should consider using your one phone call to dial 1-800-GO-ARMY.
After the check was completed, they finally took my money - I wish everyone was so reluctant to take $500 from me. I was half an hour into my second wait, when it occurred to me ask how long it might be. Four to six hours, they said. Four to six hours?
It is jail. It’s not supposed to be convenient. But still, why does it take so long? The woman I spoke with was a little cagey on the details, and I didn’t want to seem pushy, lest my friend find himself in for another overnight. She advised that I leave and come back in about three hours.
So, here I am, two hours into my second visit and my third wait. My friend was released almost two hour ago, but they can only be brought out in groups, and they have to get their stuff and yada, yada, yada.
When he finally emerges, however, I have no doubt that he will reveal the one universal truth that I have discovered here: Everyone is happy to get out of jail.
September 12, 2006 at 10:45 pm · Filed under Musings
Just the other night, my brother and I were talking about old Volkswagens, and how the internet had saved them.
When I was seventeen, I had a 1968 Karmann Ghia. The image is much more romantic than the reality, I assure you.
Parts were hard to find locally, and searching beyond your borders was difficult. I’d have to get a copy of VW Trends, or HotVWs, and hope there were suppliers in the back pages for whatever part I needed. Plus, I was seventeen, so I tried to do it all on the cheap (read: lots of tape and wire hangars). I eventually sold it for $200, which was what I paid for it, so it was all good.
Twenty years later, I’m knee-deep in VWs. I have a 72 Westy, a 72 Fastback and a late model Passat. The internet has made it easy to find parts and information. eBay makes it easy to buy, sell and trade. There has never been a better time to be an enthusiast.
And what’s better, the local shops that do continue to sell parts for and service old VWs are doing brisk business. People are buying and selling old cars like never before, and they need local people to support their habits.
Best of all, though, are the thousands of innocent volkswagens - each one a reminder of a cherished memory - spared the teenage terror.
I hear the stories every day, usually at a stoplight: “Oh, I remember…,” and they smile that smile (you know, the dirty one), “I just got out of college, we had just gotten married…” They’ll then proceed to tell me how they sold it to some seventeen year old kid. I just shudder.
At least now, that kid will have the option of not destroying it. Oh, there will be mishaps and fires and many, many oil stains in the driveway; but there is now an entire community of people just like him, out there waiting, just in case he wants to keep it alive, and continue to make people smile.
More VWs. More smiles. All thanks to the internet.