Mambo Taxi

Yesterday, I woke up a bit early, determined that Snowpocalypse had not closed our university, got ready for work and spent some time with d., who was leaving for a conference [1], hiked through the snow to the nearest express bus, with a quick detour to pick up a chunk of smoked salmon for my breakfast bagels, just caught the bus, and made it to work in excellent time.

At which point I discovered that the salmon, which I had already noticed smelling awesome, also transferred some of that awesome smell to my gloves and the coat-pocket I had briefly put the salmon bag into.

Which happened to also contain my gym shorts, because on Wednesday I had a physio appointment and she wanted me to wear shorts.

And after work, I bussed downtown to the Art Gallery, which was hosting a Groundhog Day party [2], and in answering email from someone suggesting I pack earplugs for Thursday night's concert, I was pleased to reply that I did have earplugs on me; in fact they were in the pocket containing the smoked salmon, not the pocket with my gym shorts (as I had put the salmon in the other pocket, while I was putting on my gloves).

[1] in Florida, and I'm happy he made it, because it would be awful and ironic to miss a February trip to Florida because of a snowstorm. [3]

[2] Have you ever gone to a Groundhog Day party? Me neither, figured I would check it out. Plus, catered reception, and free visit to the art gallery, which I hadn't visited in a few years.

[3] even a work trip.

Last night I had a Quaker committee meeting. I carpooled with J., who lives in Waterloo. When we were getting off the highway at the south end of town, there was a sobriety checkpoint. I've never actually been in the car when one of these has happened (well, I was once stopped by a police-person in Ithaca, but that wasn't a checkpoint). The general model is certainly one I understand, but...

What I thought the policeman said:

P: Good evening. This is a sobriety checkpoint to find out have you had any drinks tonight.
D: OK.
P: ...

What actually happened:

P: Good evening. This is a sobriety checkpoint. Have you had any drinks tonight?
D: OK.
P: ...

P: Have you had any drinks tonight?
D: No.
P: Thank you, have a good evening.

See, with ambient noise, I didn't quite catch the middle part- and I heard a downward inflection at the end of his statement. It sounded authoritative and preambleish, but not questioning.

And I guess that's the difference between getting stopped at a sobriety checkpoint and getting stopped at a sobriety checkpoint; I had the sense to not continue the conversation and tell him he sounded too preamblish.

My CD order from Amazon arrived this morning. I went home for lunch with melted_snowball, and headed back to work with the first two discs on my mp3 player.

Right now I'm enjoying an excellent extended version of Tears for Fears' Shout. 3 for 3 great songs so far, and it's not even the disc I was most excited about getting. Yay, new music.

..Being happy about my music showing up four days after I paid for it, on plastic discs, feels like it should be quaint.

What's a "CD"?

That was how they stored music, when plastic was cheap. A CD stored about an hour's worth of music in an uncompressed digital format. As wasteful as that was, it was the first and last popular digital music format that had 100% player compatibility. The playlist was hard-coded by the vendor, and they usually put them in plastic cases for some reason, even though those often broke.

What's "Amazon"?

The first and last company to be wildly successful at physically shipping media ordered over the Internet. It gradually branched into sundries like batteries, deodorant, and clothing, merged with FedExKinkosWalMart in 2008, then collapsed shortly after the shipping crash in 2012.

Forgot to post: when we were in Toronto this weekend, they were handing out sample bottles of Coke's new awful coffee-infused drink. I tried it, and tried to like it, but... no, it was too artificial, and too pointless. BleK.

I was inspired to follow melted_snowball's BlaK-ku this evening... by remembering the eternal words of the great poet, WilliãM BlãK:

Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Drink BlaK in the evening. Stay up at night.

Date: Thu, 17 Aug 2006 07:52:55 -0500
From: Peter Butler <kxj@eyelovemuff.somewhere>
To: cs-everybody@work
Subject: diet

You are so breezy and Western and uninhibited.
Then, shatteringly, came the embarrassment in the hall. I could not
conceivably be scared by you or anybody else!
[...]


Pitched to: The BBC.

The Title: Tehran Confidential

The Premise: Sitcom based in an Iranian high-school. In the first episode, two juniors in love, Seyyed and Debbie, battle their parents, teachers, and overly sanctimonious classmates to find time alone together. Then comes the shocker: Debbie is really in love with Hassan, a senior! Seyyed pours his heart out in the finale, and onlooking classmates realize how much they have to learn.

Extra points for westernisms the audience doesn't notice but anyone from Iran would find ludicrous, à la Memoirs of a Gaisha. Super-bonus for the number of Americans who foam at the mouth thinking it's too sympathetic and try to boycott Britian. Triple bonus if the series lasts until Hassan comes out as gay.