Enter The Plankton
If I’m lucky!
Spoiler alert: I’m not exactly the world’s greatest conversationalist.
For the curious, the opening line above is an example of my patented Start-By-Telling-Them-How-You-Suck approach to writing. You can buy a pamphlet describing the technique – and much, much more – for only three easy payments of $19.99. -Ed.
As the holidays cascade down upon us like a perfect storm, I’m already anticipating how I’ll surf that wave and/or navigate the complex maze-like quagmire of quicksand in quixotic fashion.
The holidays means lots of group settings of social interactions. Historically I do not fare well in these and opt instead to spend my time studying in minute detail the nearest potted plant. I’m bringing my magnifying glass just in case.
Since I remain ever hopeful, however, I’ve been role-playing various stratagems in my mind that might increase my odds of getting the occasional word in edgewise. Or I could give up in advance and just play the lotto.
A normal conversation consists of the following:
Person A: Me.
Person B: No, me!
Person C: Bloody hell to both of you. Me, me, me!
Person D: Did I ever tell you about me?
Person E: Did you say something?
Person F: … Apple’s tri-tone sound …
Person A: Ahem. You weren’t listening. I say again …
Every once in a while as the conversation morphs dynamically through these shifting realities, I may actually have something interesting to add. I hate it when that happens.
Person A: Yeah, there are a lot of elephants in Thailand
…. 20 minutes and 420 topics later I finally awkwardly interrupt and take my dream shot …
Me: An elephant sat on my head once.
Everyone: What the fuck are you talking about?!
Yeah. About that potted plant.I’ve heard that one thing that helps make you seem interesting is to ask questions about the other person. Especially if you can appear thoughtful and fake sincerity in the process. If successful, your only job is to tlean back, stay silent, let their mouth do all of the work, and celebrate a job well done.
I’m looking forward to trying this out. To that end I have prepared some questions in advance.
My only worry is that the conversation will run through a googolplex of permutations before I get my first chance to speak. That would be bad and could go down like this:
Person A: So, can you tell us what’s new with your son?
Me: Eeeeiiiiii!
… swift kick to the nards …
Me: I was gonna ask that question!!
Person B: Someone dial up the whambulance!
Lastly, sometimes the floor is occasionally dished my way. If and when that happens I should be ready. Usually this is a provactive attempt to surprise me so much as to induce heart attack. Assuming I survive long enough, I usually succumb to the intense pressure. The stress of filling that space is simply too high. I usually stammer out something like, “Goo goo gah gah.” Then everyone shrugs, wonders why the hell they bothered to give me a chance, and resumes talking about the fractal shapes of their bunions.
Also, something about the spirit of the season and it’s better give than receive but I can’t remember any of that crap right now. I’ve been much too busy with the pre-conversation planning.
I just hope I’m not over-thinking it. Perhaps I should limit my dreams to the Ribbon of Participation.
Rockin’ Around The Christmas What What?
Background source: eclair (Flickr)
There I was, in my office, headphones safely ensconced over my grimy ears, listening to music that made blood trickle down my external auditory meatus, minding my own business. Those are the conditions under which I work the best.
Suddenly… what’s that? Brenda Lee?
There goes my toe a tappin’. And I just lost the ability to properly nest my code. What was I working on again?
Yep. Christmas music in April. What’s wrong with this picture? My wife knew something was up when she heard me in the kitchen. “And we’ll do some caroling.” She just shook her head.
Little did she know it wasn’t my fault. I’m here to tell you about the feature that time Apple forgot.
It’s an idea so simple and elegant that Apple probably worried it would make them a bit too cool. Apple knows there’s a law of diminishing returns on coolness.
The missing feature I’m talking about, of course, is a “Festive” system that tells Shuffle to omit music flagged as “seasonal” during certain months of the year. If enabled, for example, seasonal music would only play Nov. 15 through Dec. 27th or so. (The actual dates could be adjustable.)
While I hold my breath and wait for Apple to get right on this humble request, who wants to lend me a hand? These halls aren’t going to deck themselves! It’s beginning to sound a lot like Christmas around here. And, baby, it’s cold outside!
The Nightmare Before October
I was taking my wife to dinner last night on Friday, September 30th, when – whooop! I had to stop the car and drive around the block. Yep, there it was. Spongebob Squarepants taking a dump on a pumpkin in a neighbor’s yard. Holy sheep shit and Merry Christmas!
Sorry for the low quality of this image. I only had my iPod and it doesn't have zoom. I was too filled with fright to get any closer.
So yeah. There it is. Christmas retail displays were out before Labor Day and the Halloween decorations went up while it was still October. Call me a fuddy duddy. Call me a stick in the mud. (That’s my costume this year.) Say I’m too old-fashioned and traditional. Well, phooey. I don’t like it.
Nothing says holiday spirit like a plastic piece of crap made in China that you purchased at the local WalMart. Now that’s festive!
A few houses down the block we spotted another one.
Sure he was already dead, but we hung 'em high anyway. And we forced his orange cousin to watch!
Yes, these are my neighbors. These are the “We Don’t Pick Up Beer Bottles In The Street” kind of people. They may not care about my car’s tires, but at least I can count on them when the chips are down, when it is time to dumb down the neighborhood.
Oh, the sound of rolling dice to me is music in the air, / ’cause I’m a gambling Boogie Man, although I don’t play fair. / It’s much more fun, I must confess, with lives on the line. / Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy, / now, that’ll be just fine.
Thanks for the early reminder, people. Now I know what I must do. Kidnap Mr. Sandy Claws!
Shouts from the Abyss 
Recent Comments