a tin cup for all these nickels

When did a cup of Starbucks coffee become that standard measure against magazine subscriptions, NPR membership drives, and any other contributable financial matters? Why doesn’t the NPR semi-annual membership campaign say things like, “For a $120 donation, and that’s only $10 per month, Beverly, the same as what you might spend on a dime bag,” instead of continually harping on the cost of a Starbucks? Listen, I don’t drink Starbucks often and, quite frankly, their coffee isn’t great, but I don’t think that they should be singled out in the $5 spending realm. How about you don’t buy the NYTimes on Sunday ($6), or that Happy Meal for the kid ($4-$6), or drive 20 fewer miles in your Hummer H3?

H has an assignment for his science class – and something that will also be a project of sorts for the school’s science fair. There are something like 46 pages of rules (nothing illegal, no fires, no using animals, etc.), but there is also some bullshit requirement that the student can’t repeat any other experiment or project…..THAT’S EVER BEEN DONE. Ever. Anywhere. If the moronic science teacher can Google up your suggested thesis, and find any indication that Newton, Einstein, or Darwin have attempted what you’ve put forth, think again. Anything. Ever. Really? They are expecting 15 year-olds to come up with something completely new to the scientific world; something never pondered or subject to experiment? On the basis of the Fairfax County School procedures I think the Wright Brothers would have failed class because someone else had already ‘tried to fly’. Remember that guy with his wings, wax, and the approach to the Sun? Yeah, him. “Sorry, Orville and Wilbur, you fail the class because you tried something that had already been done. Granted, you did actually fly so I’ll give you an F+.”

do not

I’ve been hand-making donuts at my weekend gig for the last six weeks. That’s not at the heart of this story, but I can at least vaguely tie into some professional donut qualification.

There’s a small Dunkin’ Donuts inside the shoppette here on base (for those non-mil types, the shoppette is essentially the combo gas station/7-11 on base). Since I walk right by while heading to work, I usually grab a cup of coffee to get me through the morning. The problem of the Dunkin’ Donuts is multi-faceted, but I only care to address today’s issue: buying dozens of donuts for work. Aside from the fact that I don’t care to stand in line while you buy three dozen donuts, what exactly are you doing with the individual donut type selection? Let’s imagine you’re buying two dozen donuts for your office. (For those who’ve worked in the same nozzle plant for a million years, play along.) Do you have the knowledge and personal connection to the donut eaters to know whether they like filled, cake, raised, sprinkles, chocolate, maple, etc.? Would you be standing in line thinking that Debbie in accounting would definitely want a bear claw with her coffee? Oh, and make sure to get a jelly-filled and a custard-filled donuts for Doug and Bob in shipping (they are always referred to as ‘Doug and Bob’ because they are like an old, married couple who’ve working in shipping for 15 years). How about just firing off the “fill two dozen boxes with a full mix of what you have up there” accepted technique and letting the donut artists do their job? We can be rid of you in about one minute instead of the 10 minutes I’m standing behind you listening to “one maple cake…..(pause)……two of the sprinkle ones. No the purple sprinkles not the white one. No the purple frosting, not the sprinkles. (Pause) (Pause) Two of the plain glazed. One maple cake. Wait, I already have one of those. (Pause) Two of the…..”

(fade to death)

what is....

We returned to Quiz Night last evening. Since I’m out of class this quarter it opens up our Monday night options; but not next Monday night, as that’s my first Caps game of the new season.

It was a small crowd, team-wise, and we did quite well with our 61 points – good for third place. The first- and second-place team scores? 63 and 62, respectively. We had our shot at glory and couldn’t quite pull it off. Don’t think that we didn’t spend a bit of time figuring out where we shed points. How about this one: What is the chemical symbol for Tin? Our team? Nothing. Couldn’t come up with an answer to save our lives. But, Phil was able to successfully answer a question where Austin Power: Goldmember was correct. Priorities.

I’m not sure that I can claim to have been too busy to notice that Jolie Holland has a new CD out – not sure how I missed it, and am I really ever too busy? Was I not paying attention? She played here last month and I couldn’t make it this time around, but her touring should have been indicative of new music. Not always, but often. It’s a dash of serendipity that there’s new music after three years because I’ve probably listened to The Living and the Dead about a thousand times in the last month. I have no idea what brought me back to it ; but you can take that for what it’s worth. As a parting gift, I’ll pass along a song that’s moved way up into my favorite song of all-time list, Palmyra. The album version is a full-band (or multi-track) soiree, this is just Holland delivered a stunning acoustic version. Great stuff.

man with gun

I bag my own groceries; we all understand this fact. I was at TJ’s yesterday, doing what I do, and the cashier is hell-bent on my dozen eggs and where I’ve decided is their final resting place. Trust me - the eggs were fine in their vertical position at the top of my well-strong reusable bag. She was overly worried that they might fall out. What happens if they fall out? What? Nothing. They won’t fall out, I’ve got this wired – and, I’m not going to be swinging my bags around above my head as I amble to the car. She’s really worried about this; so worried that she pulls out a wine bottle paper bag and offers to put that around my dozen eggs. Thanks, that’ll help if I get mowed over by a truck – which is the only thing that will cause a breakage of my eggs.

I then stopped at another grocery store to pick up ice (for Tom Collins-es at Pizza Night), and lunches for the boys. (They like these 90-second meals that cost about $1.50 each.) I’m a pre-scanner at this store – you sign up for a program, you get a scanning gun that lets you scan and bag your goods, and then you walk up the self-checkout lanes, and fire away.* I get to the lane and attempt to make the final scan of the account closing barcode at the register and my suddenly my gun dies. Not the oft-malfunctioning death, the actual no power death. Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus. Now I have to remove my 12, $1.50 lunches, and 5 lb. bag of ice and scan this crap. Needless to say, the clerk who sort of mans the self checkouts can see that I’m a wee pissed off at this development. She wisely stays away. As I start zipping the lunches over the scanner and down the belt, the fucking machine stops after about six and ‘lets me know’ know something: “The bagging area is full, Please bag items before continuing.” What? Now I’m really irritated – six microwave lunches, and it’s full! The clerk wanders nervously to my lane and starts to pull some of the items off the highly technical, weight-sensing, NASA-produced, piece-of-shit belt so that I don’t kill someone. I start scanning again and super whipping things the eight feet to the end of the ‘bagging area’ mere milliseconds after she removes her in-danger hands. She quickly backs away and returns to the security of her podium. Damn right. I finish scanning, walk down, re-bag my loot, and shoot her a look of ‘crazy old man’ as I depart, stage right.

Am I wrong?

*By the way, there should be two lanes just for us gunslingers. As it is, there are six lanes that any smoothbrain can use for self checkout. I don’t have time for ‘Bob’ to ponder using self checkout and then spending HOURS trying to weigh and enter codes for his produce. You can do that crap in the produce section, where they have the scales and stickers, and save us all a lot of heartache.