Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Turning signals in the turning lane

I’m a proponent of good driving. I’m also a proponent of following the guidelines and rules set forth, both written and unwritten. Sure, sometimes breaking the speed limit is called for, but that’s not what I’m driving at here (hah!).

I don’t think there’s a need to keep your turn signal on if you’re in the turning lane, unless you’re in the front of the pack or the last in line. Those are two very key positions in a turning lane – both let oncoming and passing traffic know that there are cars about to turn. All the others in the middle of the line, no need for a signal.

Unless, of course, you’re trying to get out of the turning lane, at which time you should have the opposite-direction turn signal illuminated for the world to see you’ve made a horrible mistake and can’t possibly afford to make the turn and are willing to screw up all traffic behind you while you wait to get out of the turning lane as those turning in front of you move forward and on with the turn, effectively blocking all other proper-turners from their chance at turning with those in front of you in the current light sequence.

If this is you, you clearly have no sense of adventure and/or take your driving path too seriously. And you also may not be a good driver.

Anyway, no need for a turn signal in the middle of the pack.

Thank you.


Saturday, November 6, 2010

A Room Full of Happy

A room full of happy.
What can you do.

People are standing, watching,
Dancing forever the fool.

People standing happy
What ever can you do?

Why should we stop them?
Why should we be the fool?

A room full of happy.
I'm glad I'm here.
This is home for me.
My mind is clear.


Friday, November 5, 2010

Yogurt Surgery

I hate performing yogurt surgery. That is, I hate performing the surgery required to get a container of yogurt open. I don’t know why, but lately the foil tops have been ripping down the middle no matter how I try to pull it off. I try different angles, different pressures, different methods. I even try it the same way when it usually works, but it still rips right down the middle.

It’s getting rather annoying, and I’m tired of getting yogurt on my fingers from the bottom side of the foil lid.

Speaking of yogurt, that reminds me of the time I wrote about a yurt. Boy do I want one of those!


Thursday, November 4, 2010

Bugs, dancing, and expressive thought in public restrooms

It seems that every now and then when I’m at a bar or concert something unusual happens while in the restroom. Either it’s while waiting in line, standing at the urinal, or walking in or out the door…

The last time something unusual happened, I posted about it HERE. To recap: I tried to wash a bug down the drain while washing my hands, but the bug didn't get washed down the drain and survived the flood. I rescued it with a paper towel, placed it on the counter, and profusely apologize to it, all while wishing I had my phone to take a picture of it for the blog as it tried to recover from the event and, curiously enough, seemed to acknowledge my existence.


And then there was another time I posted about HERE. To recap that one: there was a guy dancing as he stood at the urinal. He wasn’t just swaying back and forth in a drunken fashion; he was literally dancing… at the urinal… while doing his business.

Which brings me to last night at the Sevendust show. The guy standing at the urinal next to me exclaimed rather loudly, “son of a bitch!” as he’s stood there, again, conducting his business. Now, whether or not this was the same guy who was dancing, I don’t know. In fact, I doubt it was. But still, you never know because you never look over to see who’s standing there. Ever.

It seems that when guys are drunk in public restrooms, words and thoughts leap from the mind and into the world rather quickly and openly… perhaps too much so. Whereas back in the barroom area you probably wouldn’t expect some people to be talking to one another, let alone exclaiming personal thoughts while holding their manhood. But in the restroom, it’s fair game for some reason.