Another dream

It was winter and I was the only snowplow mechanic in town. I was also apparently the only English-speaking person in town, which was weird. The family I lived with spoke German and Polish(?) and did all the talking for me. Whenever anyone came over, they would talk and gesture toward me, but I had no idea what was going on.

In my dream, it kept snowing and snowing and the snowplows were what kept the roads open and the town functioning. Apparently being a snowplow driver was a big deal and the drivers had sort of a celebrity status in the small town. Being a snowplow mechanic was also a big deal and everyone seemed to think I was somebody. It was kinda weird, but I didn't mind all the friendly waves and nods every time I went somewhere. It was a bit like being the roadie for a rock band, except better.

Each day I went out into the cold and walked through the snow to the plow barn. I remember coming home at lunch a few times, until I finally realized that the only thing the family that I lived with ate each day was sauerkraut. JUST sauerkraut. I brought my own lunches after that. Strange all the miniscule details this dream had.

Also, I had no clue how to fix snowplows, I just wore overalls and carried a greasy toolbox.

Unplugged

On April 18th, a very close friend of mine passed away. My Mac Pro tower went to be with Steve Jobs after a short battle with memory loss. I don't think it was in any pain; it just froze up and then displayed a blank white screen. On the plus side, an Apple tech was able to fix it and bring it back. Two weeks and $683 later it is working fine as if nothing ever happened. My life has been changed forever, though.

The first 24 hours after it died, I went through withdrawal wondering about all the emails I was getting that I couldn't read and agonizing over the senior portraits that I had just shot that I couldn't finish until it was fixed. I'm a news junkie, too, so the sudden disconnect from the outside world really hurt. Plus, there were so many other time-waster things that I had grown accustomed to doing on the computer and then I was left with nothing to do but use my brain (which I am not accustomed to).

I was left with lots of time to read books, sit on the front porch, stare at the neighbors (in a really creepy, unhealthy sort of way), and daydream about what the world would be like if some bands didn't exist. Like, what if I could travel back in time and assassinate a bunch of bands to prevent them from ever recording crappy, formulaic, middle-of-the-road rock? I would start by taking out the obvious bands like Creed, Nickelback, and Puddle of Mudd. And I couldn't just stop there, I mean, that leaves Pearl Jam, Limp Bizkit, and many others. Er, maybe not everyone in Pearl Jam, just Eddie Vedder.

This brings up a question: by altering the past this way, how would that affect the present? I would assume that after preventing these awful bands from unleashing their horrible music on society, we would all find ourselves here in 2012 as incredibly smart supermodel millionaires. How? I dunno, but I imagine that's how it would pan out.

Anyway, the things mentioned above are a small sampling of what my brain does when it is not silenced by a computer. It's been a rough couple of weeks and I'm so glad to be back online.

In an emergency, run faster

The hospital was huge; it must've been 2 miles long. It seemed to take forever to get anywhere, even at a brisk pace. The building almost needed its own public transportation system.

I was there to visit a friend for some reason... I couldn't remember who it was or why they were there. After a lengthy hike, I finally arrived at their room and sat to talk for a bit. I needed to use the restroom, so I went out into the hall to look for one. It should have been easy to find. Restrooms are usually easy to find in public places, especially in hospitals.

There were no restroom signs anywhere close by, so I wandered the hallways looking for someone to ask. An army of nurses came rushing down the hallway, pushing beds with patients who had just come out of surgery and I stepped out of the way to let them all past. Since the nurses were busy, I decided to get on the elevator to try my luck on another floor.

DEFCON 3: hurry

The main lobby on the ground level was no better. There were gift shops and a cafeteria, but no restrooms. The urgency was starting to set in now and I was done messing around. It was a toss up between whether #1 or #2 was more urgent, but #1 seemed to be more pressing. I got back on the elevator and picked a floor on one of the top levels. I danced in place as the doors closed. Worst case scenario: I would run into someone's hospital room and use their bathroom.

DEFCON 2: destroy anything that gets in the way

When I reached the upper floor, I realized that using a random bathroom should be fairly easy; there was no one around. The lights were on, but the hallways were empty and no one was in any of the rooms. I ran into a room with only seconds to spare and opened the bathroom door – there was only a shower. No toilet.

DEFCON 1: maximum readiness

Looking around the room, I noticed a plastic commode sitting in the corner behind some medical odds and ends, so I grabbed it, slammed it to the floor in the middle of the room and got to work. Once I started going, there was no stopping. I was a train with no brakes, a tidal wave that couldn't be stopped. The launch codes had been entered and there was no turning back.

Suddenly, a group of construction workers streamed into the room and began vigorously tearing the room apart and hauling pieces out into the hallway. They pulled down drywall, drilled holes everywhere, and brought in sawhorses to begin cutting plywood. The room instantly filled with dust and racket from their spontaneous remodeling work, but no one seemed to notice me.

I finally finished and just in time: the bucket was full to the brim. Since everyone was so busy, I got up and started to leave, when one of the workers stopped me. "Hey," he said. "You can't just leave that here." "What do I do with it?" I asked. "Dump it in the toilet."

And that was the end of my dream, because right then I woke up and had to go to the bathroom.

Do not think about evil cows

I am always getting songs stuck in my head and the more I try not to think about them, the louder they play in my mind. My brain can be a real jerk sometimes, especially when I get stuff like "Under Pressure," "Seven Nation Army," or anything by Alanis Morissette stuck on repeat. Sometimes it helps to sit down and play the song on my guitar and work it out of my head (unless it's an Alanis Morissette song, in which case I'd rather break all my fingers off). Other times it helps to play the song when other people are around, so that it can get stuck in their heads and they can share the misery, too. Misery loves company. Rose had the "Chicken Dance" stuck in her head for a while and that was all she wanted to listen to. I think even our plants died after hearing that about 10 times.

Today, it's an AC/DC song that won't go away. I haven't listened to "Back in Black" in a long time, but I woke up this morning with that tune playing over and over. It started off almost as some sort of anthem to celebrate my waking up, but then it wouldn't shut up. It's getting old now.

Anyway, today I want to leave you with this: do not think about the Mentos jingle.

Money tree

Recently, I read an article about a family of four from Tampa, Florida, who have found themselves in a tight spot because they can barely pay all of their bills with their meager 6-figure income. Their monthly spending is limited to only necessities: $350 for utilities, $300 for car insurance(!), $300 car loan, $1,222.02 mortgage(!!), $500 for gas(!), $175 for internet/cable/phone, $1,000 for food(!!!).

Their oldest son got a job delivering pizzas, so they bought him a brand new car so that he could work to pay some of his own expenses. Their other son doesn't work. They describe their lifestyle as being fairly simple since they can only afford the necessities and have to live without anything extravagant. At the end of the article, they blame their financial woes on taxes.

Stories like this make my blood boil. Is this really a country full of idiots? If the majority of U.S. citizens put themselves in this kind of predicament, then we have no hope of ever recovering from this recession. It doesn't require a college education to figure out how to handle money. Determination, self-control, and keeping a budget are the most important keys to keeping finances in check, regardless of income level. A few generations ago, living within one's means was the norm, and taking out any sort of loan was viewed as risky business. It's also a bit disconcerting to see all the things that people today view as necessities.

The family in this article is bleeding money all over the place. Buying their son a brand new car just so that he can deliver pizzas completely defies logic. At best, the money he makes delivering pizzas is paying for his car. Then there's all the gas he's spending driving it everyday, plus insurance. Mom and dad might think they're doing him a favor, but no one is coming out ahead in that deal.

Their mortgage payment is terrifying, too, although you have to take into account the cost of living in Tampa. Having lived in Florida myself, I know that everything is expensive there, but I think they could likely find a more modest house with a more reasonable mortgage payment. They mentioned that their house is 1,800 square feet, which is not necessary for a family of four, especially with both sons being old enough to move out in a couple years.

I'm really at a loss to figure out how they manage to blow $1,000 a month on food. The article states that they don't eat at upscale restaurants or buy gourmet food and that they are only providing the basics for four people. I can guarantee you that their definition of "basics" is night-and-day different from mine. How on earth a family of four can demolish $1,000 worth of food in a month is beyond me, unless they eat caviar and baby seals for every meal. Seriously, how do you do that? My family spends about $400 a month on food for our family of four (props to my wife and her mad grocery-buying skillz).

The article paints a picture of a family who – as it seems to me – are wallowing in self-pity, and who are either unable to curb their buying impulses, or lack the mental fortitude to see that they're sinking their own boat. Whatever the situation, I have no sympathy for them or their 6-figure income. Suck it up and learn to live within your means!

There, now I feel better. That was my rant for today.

032012

Blogging is weird. There are so many things to say, but what should really be said? Writing on a blog is much different from talking face-to-face with a friend and because of that, a number of factors have to be taken into account. Not every single thing that swirls around in my head can end up on here. Any topic that is posted has to go through a series of filters: audience, privacy, and TMI.

Due to the fact that this is not a face-to-face conversation with only one friend, it's important to keep in mind that anybody can read this. I can't bash my boss or coworkers, because what if they read this? Discretion is important when writing a blog and it would be prudent to keep in mind that anyone written about on here could be reading this. It's also not paranoia; it's just a matter of common sense and being aware of the blog's invisible audience.

Then there's privacy concerns. I'm not overly concerned about my own privacy, but I really don't want to go waving my freak flag on here, either. And believe me: I am a freak. That's about all I have to say about that.

I think most people know what I mean by TMI. Some blogs are chock full o' unpleasant goodness. Nobody wants to hear about your bouts of explosive diarrhea, things that make you itch, or the details of your love life. Seriously, I'd rather donate my organs than hear about that. Facebook is overflowing with stuff like this (which is one reason why I don't miss it).

So, I'm not posting some stupid lecture on blog etiquette; this post is partly for me. Sort of like talking out loud, I'm trying to define what I will and will not post on here. There have been lots of times when I was about to post something, then realized that I probably shouldn't because everyone will think I'm a big weirdo. Which I am, but not everyone wants to fall down that rabbit hole with me.

OK, I said I wasn't going to bash my coworkers on here, but I have to post a cryptic email I received from someone I work with: "As we darken, it becomes green." Is that brilliant philosophy? The "Go" code phrase to activate a sleeper cell and take down traffic lights everywhere? Or another case of TMI? It went over my head, but if it makes sense to you, let me know. Or don't let me know, maybe the world is better off that way.

Dreaming of a white Christmas

It was Christmas Eve and we were driving to Chicago to visit a friend who I hadn't seen in years. There was a lot of snow and the roads were a mess, so we had to drive slowly. The trip took all day and when we arrived in my friend's neighborhood, it was very late and most of the houses were dark. Right about then I realized that I probably should have told him that we were going to drop in, but I figured it probably didn't matter. Christmas Eve was the perfect time to pay a surprise visit to someone I hadn't talked to in almost 10 years. We pulled into their drive and it was so cold that everything had a bluish hue to it, including the snow. A Christmas tree was lit in the window, but the rest of the house was dark.

We knocked on the door, but no one answered. Figuring they must be asleep and couldn't hear us, all four of us began pounding loudly on the door. Rose had the great idea to ring the doorbell repeatedly, too. Finally a light came on and he opened the door. I could tell he was really surprised to see us! We came in and sat down and asked for something to eat. I remember one of us telling him that we didn't bring any presents, so we didn't expect him to give us any, either. After an hour or so of trying to make conversation, things just got too awkward and we decided not to stay the night after all. We asked him to watch the kids, then Cynthia and I went to stay at a hotel in... New York City(?!).

Once we got to the hotel and got the key card to our room, we then spent the whole night wandering the hotel trying to find the room. Early in the morning we gave up and decided to go pick up the kids and head back home. The trip just hadn't panned out the way we expected.

This morning that's about all I can remember from that dream. Also, my dream was letterboxed.