If you get so into reading my Friday posts that you block out all the sounds around you, could you say that you're using EarFUFs? Technically, yes, but would you though? I didn't think so. I have a lot of things to cover in this FUF, and none of them are related to each other. Strap in and prepare for yourself for a new high in UOPTA disjointedness.
I want to begin with a fond farewell to one of my favorite writers of all time, Kurt Vonnegut, who passed away on Wednesday. The man really opened my eyes in high school to the notion that reading could still be fun for adults. After being assigned Dickens for a year, I picked up Breakfast of Champions in 10th grade and loved every single word of it. It was fascinating and absurd, and just what I needed at that stage to keep "reading" on my list of hobbies. I later read several more of his novels and two books of short stories, and I can clearly remember reading Slapstick and having to stop, put it down on my chest, and laugh out loud several times throughout it. That, my friends, is a reading experience.
I was actually thinking of Vonnegut while I was writing yesterday's post about looking for patterns in the world. He has a short story called "Report on the Barnhouse Effect" that I've read at least a dozen times. In it, Professor Barnhouse is able to make things happen by thinking of certain sentences and concentrating. I couldn't find a way to work it into the post, but I'm happy to include it here in my mini tribute. He was a fantastic and fantastically bizarre writer, and I'll be re-reading his works again soon.
Sticking with patterns, my old boss Kim once said that she had one that seemed to be 100% to her. If you put chapstick on in front of someone who uses it regularly, they will use theirs too...100% of the time. I think she's on to something, because just writing that made me reach for my chapstick. Hmmmm. Did it make any of you do that too?
Time for a story about foosball. When I was about 15, I called my friend Greg's house to say hi. His mom answered, and when I asked if he was there, she said, "No, Greg's out with his friends playing foooooosball." I remember thinking that was a little weird, but it did seem like it could be a fun game. I hadn't really tried it before, but if Greg was playing, how bad could it be? Three years later, we're freshmen in college hanging out in the lounge of my residence hall. I saw the foosball table off in the corner, and asked Greg if he wanted to play. "No," he said, "I don't really like foosball." "But you played it with your friends," I said, a little confused. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. I told him the story, and he looked at me like I was crazy. "I never went out to play foosball with my friends; I don't like foosball." "Then why did she say that?" We went back and forth for a while, and we finally agreed that she must have said "foooooootball" for some reason. I remember this all clearly because the look he gave me was priceless as I assuredly told him that he liked something that he didn't. It was a combination of confusion, thinking, and smelling something bad. Try it out!
In response to my post about Forgotten Word Syndrome, my mother-in-law told me a story about an acquaintance who referred to the condition as "Some-heimer's," as opposed to Alzheimer's since it happened sporadically. I thought that was pretty clever, although I would've called it "Some-zheimer's" to maybe make the connection clearer.
Another instance of FWS happened years ago while playing Taboo with my friend Dave on my team. I gave the perfect clues, saying it's a physician who uses a scalpel. "Oh," he said, "surg..." I started nodding to let him know he was right. "Surg..." he continued, with a suddenly frightened look on his face. "Surg...ist? Surgist? I can't remember the word!" "Come on, Dave!" I yelled, glancing at the timer. He paused, looked down, then lifted his head and said, "Surgist?" Time ran out and we didn't get that card. Well played, Dave, well played.
Car Watch!
I got an email from our friend Candice about a license plate that wouldn't have stood out to anyone else I know. In her field of working with data, EOF stands for "end of file." If that's in a dataset and there's an error, you can't read past that point and "the program yells at you." Her boyfriend Scott's license plate is some number followed EOF911. To Candice (and maybe only Candice), "It's like oh no EOF!! Call 911!" She did follow that up with, "It makes me and my datanerdiness smile every single time," so at least she's aware of her condition. I wonder if datanerdiness.com is taken yet...
What would Car Watch be without Rockabye writing in? He saw "Hit me, My Son's a Lawyer" on a bumper sticker. That disturbs me on several levels. One, she's painting all lawyers as people who extract exhorbitant sums from others. Second, she's literally asking for trouble. Third, it's just fucking stupid. Yeah, nevermind my first two points on this one. I think the third sums it up nicely.
My mom saw the vanity plate "S8TEN." We both thought that was an interesting choice by the driver and by the DMV to let that through. On the complete other side of the spectrum, my brother saw a bumper sticker that read, "The More You Complain, The Longer God Makes You Live." He called to tell me that, and my natural response was, "Yikes!" I guess I get that being in heaven is the ultimate reward for many people, but it just seems very weird to use God "making you live" as a punishment. Anyone have more insight on this one?
Just this morning, I saw a bumper sticker that made me immediately text message myself so I could include it in today's FUF: "One Nation, Under Educated." I was impressed by the way that was crafted, especially in the face of so many blunt and sophomoric bumper stickers that hit you over the head with their message. (How did "sophomoric" end up being that term? They're more mature than the first-years, right? So why isn't it "freshmanic" instead? I could look it up, but I don't feel like being angry this early in the morning.)
And now, the moment three of you have been waiting for: this week's Guess the Fakey answer! Once again, nobody was correct in their guesses. The one I made up was "Hippy-Go-Lucky," which seems obvious by itself, but not amidst all the other weird titles Jon Gries has actually been in. Thanks for playing, we have some fabulous parting gifts. Uh, what's that? No gifts? Oh, well then a "thanks for playing" will have to suffice.
Last but not least, my lovely wife and I are attending a black-tie gala this weekend. On one of the invitations, it said something about the after-party theme being "Midnight at the Oasis." The song by that name (sung by Maria Muldaur) is easily - EASILY - one of my least favorite songs ever. And yet, it's so damn catchy that it's in my head for hours every time I think of anything remotely close to it. If you don't know the song, mazel tov. If you do, I'm sorry if it's in your head too now, but thanks for joining me. "Cactus is our friend," indeed.
Have a great weekend, gentle readers. Please send ptklein@gmail.com an email with things for future Car Watch editions or anything else that might help me prolong the blog experience.
I want to begin with a fond farewell to one of my favorite writers of all time, Kurt Vonnegut, who passed away on Wednesday. The man really opened my eyes in high school to the notion that reading could still be fun for adults. After being assigned Dickens for a year, I picked up Breakfast of Champions in 10th grade and loved every single word of it. It was fascinating and absurd, and just what I needed at that stage to keep "reading" on my list of hobbies. I later read several more of his novels and two books of short stories, and I can clearly remember reading Slapstick and having to stop, put it down on my chest, and laugh out loud several times throughout it. That, my friends, is a reading experience.
I was actually thinking of Vonnegut while I was writing yesterday's post about looking for patterns in the world. He has a short story called "Report on the Barnhouse Effect" that I've read at least a dozen times. In it, Professor Barnhouse is able to make things happen by thinking of certain sentences and concentrating. I couldn't find a way to work it into the post, but I'm happy to include it here in my mini tribute. He was a fantastic and fantastically bizarre writer, and I'll be re-reading his works again soon.
Sticking with patterns, my old boss Kim once said that she had one that seemed to be 100% to her. If you put chapstick on in front of someone who uses it regularly, they will use theirs too...100% of the time. I think she's on to something, because just writing that made me reach for my chapstick. Hmmmm. Did it make any of you do that too?
Time for a story about foosball. When I was about 15, I called my friend Greg's house to say hi. His mom answered, and when I asked if he was there, she said, "No, Greg's out with his friends playing foooooosball." I remember thinking that was a little weird, but it did seem like it could be a fun game. I hadn't really tried it before, but if Greg was playing, how bad could it be? Three years later, we're freshmen in college hanging out in the lounge of my residence hall. I saw the foosball table off in the corner, and asked Greg if he wanted to play. "No," he said, "I don't really like foosball." "But you played it with your friends," I said, a little confused. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. I told him the story, and he looked at me like I was crazy. "I never went out to play foosball with my friends; I don't like foosball." "Then why did she say that?" We went back and forth for a while, and we finally agreed that she must have said "foooooootball" for some reason. I remember this all clearly because the look he gave me was priceless as I assuredly told him that he liked something that he didn't. It was a combination of confusion, thinking, and smelling something bad. Try it out!
In response to my post about Forgotten Word Syndrome, my mother-in-law told me a story about an acquaintance who referred to the condition as "Some-heimer's," as opposed to Alzheimer's since it happened sporadically. I thought that was pretty clever, although I would've called it "Some-zheimer's" to maybe make the connection clearer.
Another instance of FWS happened years ago while playing Taboo with my friend Dave on my team. I gave the perfect clues, saying it's a physician who uses a scalpel. "Oh," he said, "surg..." I started nodding to let him know he was right. "Surg..." he continued, with a suddenly frightened look on his face. "Surg...ist? Surgist? I can't remember the word!" "Come on, Dave!" I yelled, glancing at the timer. He paused, looked down, then lifted his head and said, "Surgist?" Time ran out and we didn't get that card. Well played, Dave, well played.
Car Watch!
I got an email from our friend Candice about a license plate that wouldn't have stood out to anyone else I know. In her field of working with data, EOF stands for "end of file." If that's in a dataset and there's an error, you can't read past that point and "the program yells at you." Her boyfriend Scott's license plate is some number followed EOF911. To Candice (and maybe only Candice), "It's like oh no EOF!! Call 911!" She did follow that up with, "It makes me and my datanerdiness smile every single time," so at least she's aware of her condition. I wonder if datanerdiness.com is taken yet...
What would Car Watch be without Rockabye writing in? He saw "Hit me, My Son's a Lawyer" on a bumper sticker. That disturbs me on several levels. One, she's painting all lawyers as people who extract exhorbitant sums from others. Second, she's literally asking for trouble. Third, it's just fucking stupid. Yeah, nevermind my first two points on this one. I think the third sums it up nicely.
My mom saw the vanity plate "S8TEN." We both thought that was an interesting choice by the driver and by the DMV to let that through. On the complete other side of the spectrum, my brother saw a bumper sticker that read, "The More You Complain, The Longer God Makes You Live." He called to tell me that, and my natural response was, "Yikes!" I guess I get that being in heaven is the ultimate reward for many people, but it just seems very weird to use God "making you live" as a punishment. Anyone have more insight on this one?
Just this morning, I saw a bumper sticker that made me immediately text message myself so I could include it in today's FUF: "One Nation, Under Educated." I was impressed by the way that was crafted, especially in the face of so many blunt and sophomoric bumper stickers that hit you over the head with their message. (How did "sophomoric" end up being that term? They're more mature than the first-years, right? So why isn't it "freshmanic" instead? I could look it up, but I don't feel like being angry this early in the morning.)
And now, the moment three of you have been waiting for: this week's Guess the Fakey answer! Once again, nobody was correct in their guesses. The one I made up was "Hippy-Go-Lucky," which seems obvious by itself, but not amidst all the other weird titles Jon Gries has actually been in. Thanks for playing, we have some fabulous parting gifts. Uh, what's that? No gifts? Oh, well then a "thanks for playing" will have to suffice.
Last but not least, my lovely wife and I are attending a black-tie gala this weekend. On one of the invitations, it said something about the after-party theme being "Midnight at the Oasis." The song by that name (sung by Maria Muldaur) is easily - EASILY - one of my least favorite songs ever. And yet, it's so damn catchy that it's in my head for hours every time I think of anything remotely close to it. If you don't know the song, mazel tov. If you do, I'm sorry if it's in your head too now, but thanks for joining me. "Cactus is our friend," indeed.
Have a great weekend, gentle readers. Please send ptklein@gmail.com an email with things for future Car Watch editions or anything else that might help me prolong the blog experience.
1 comment:
I am a Chapstick addict. I can open and apply one-handed. It really impresses your dad. So I am probably one of the people that would follow suit and apply if I saw someone else applying. I will make note of it the next time. Oh the things I have learned on your blog.
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