by Richard Timothy | Sep 17, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, Life Characters, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
It happened overnight, my brother’s bank account went from a couple hundred dollars to over a million in the blink of an eye. How did he do it? Well, let me tell you…
My brother came into his million dollars when living in Jackson Wyoming, which only just recently changed. My friend Ans and I would dream, scheme and plot about ways to get him out of Jackson. It’s not so much we were opposed to Jackson; we were just opposed to him living there. I mean sure I enjoy visiting there, but I’d never want to live there, it’s just not a good fit and it certainly wasn’t a good fit for Dave. At least it wasn’t in our minds. Turns out the only motivation he needed was, instead of our constant verbal pestering for him to move, a significant other that refused to live there.
Dave is a rather clever sort, and was always hatching up new ideas for how he could make some extra money. It was after work, during one of these planning sessions, that he found himself a bit peckish and wanted to get something to eat. He headed down town and hit the local ATM to grab some cash for a late lunch. As his receipt rolled out of the ATM, looking much like an R2 unit attempting to stick out its tongue, Dave looked at the printed balance at the bottom of the sheet to see how much cash he had left until pay day.
He looked at the number. He blinked and looked at the number. Then did a series of extreme blinks and head shakes in much the same manner as someone who has attempted to see how long they can start at the sun and was not attempting to get their eyes to adjust so they could see the world again. As he looked back at the paper next to the words Account Balance was a little over one million dollars. He knew something was amiss, he hoped it wasn’t, but knew better. So he went home, pulled close the blinds, you know, just in case. And in an act of positive mental reinforcement started to compose a list of all the things he would do if the money in his account turned out to actually be his. He decided to give it a few days before checking it again, figuring that if the bank made an error they would be able to easily correct it in a few days time.
Relativity is a funny thing, you know that whole spending 30 minutes at the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) feeling like hours… ok not the best example, because seriously whoever gets out of the DMV in 30 minutes. For me it’s more like visiting the a natural history museum, I can spend hours there and it seems like only minutes, and my wife can spend minutes there and it feels like hours and hours (sigh, adult women and their lack of dinosaur bone appreciation). The thing about relativity is that if you add enough alcohol to the equation, it doesn’t matter how long you spend at a place or in a situation, you still won’t remember it in the morning. However, even though Dave has for few drinks, which were hastily consumed, the weekend still crawled by one minute at a time.
After the fourth day Dave checked the balance again. The balance had not changed. My brother was a officially a millionaire… until…
Dave entered the bank, waited in line until a teller was available, and then began to explain the situation. As his explanation progressed, a look of growing concern began chiseling away at the teller’s face with much the same intensity as the French did using their iron balls to blow the nose off of statues of dead Egyptian royalty. She didn’t get shot at, but it was clear that whoever had created this little blunder was probably going to be looking for a new job the second blame was attached and she was hoping it wasn’t her.
Soon Dave was in the bank managers office telling the story once again as people hurriedly walked in and out of the office, to explain their research on the matter and trying to find someone to blame that wasn’t them. Eventually, they discovered what happened. Turned out Dave’s account number was identical to the school districts account number, except for one digit, which I know doesn’t make it identical, but, well, mostly identical then. When the state sent their yearly funds to the Jackson school district’s bank, the person entering the money into the account fat fingered the one digit that transformed the destination of the funds from the schools account into Dave’s account.
After being thanked incessantly for the hour or so he was at the bank, waiting for them to figure the whole thing out, Dave was given a new account balance print out that ended her brief stroll down millionaire lane and put his funds back to where it was just a few days prior. Once he got home he looked at his ‘Things-to-do-with-a-million-dollars’ list and filed it away in his ‘Things-to-get-to’ folder. As a reward he did get his picture taken and was the front page story at the local newspaper.
I like to think that through my brother’s honesty and integrity to an ‘Oopsie’ situation that he singlehandedly was responsible for making sure all of the kid in that school district received an education that year. Hey, I’m a firm believer in puffing up a family member with greatness when they do something greatish. I’m also a firm believer in reminding them when they are being a bit of an ass as well. I guess you could call it fulfilling one of your functional duties for the group of people that you call family.
Dave was only a millionaire for a few days… and it was a complete accident, but technically he was one, which is still a goal I know a lot of people have. At least he got to check it of his ‘To Do’ list early on. Now that he’s got out of the way, he can focus on other, more important things. Still, it does make for a good story.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: one million, ATM receipt, dinosaur, bank teller, newspaper, and to do list.
by Richard Timothy | Sep 10, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Sleep… it’s one of those things that make us all the same. Granted, what we do in our sleep varies dramatically from person to person. Take me for example, now according to my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie, I flip over more times than a flapjack competing for a gold medal at an event where such things get people gold colored metals, or a blue ribbon at the very least. As for Angela, I really can’t say, I’m usually asleep before she is. Unless I can’t sleep, then I sneak out of bed, go to my office and work… or play, until I’m exhausted and ready to sleep.
I think one of my favorite things about sleep is how people react when they reach that deep state of slumber where Michael Stipe and his band mates begin making your eyes twitch rapidly. One of my favorite experiences of this happened during the first year Angela and I were together. We would take turns crashing at each others place because it was way too soon to get a place together. Anyway, one morning, a good twenty minutes before I was to hit my snooze button for the first or many times that morning, Angela woke up to the sound of singing, muffled, face in pillow singing, but singing just the same. She sat up and looked at me. Apparently, I was jerking my body around in little movements along with the incoherent song I was mumbling out of the side of my mouth. She then asked me, “Are you singing?”
This question pulled me right out of my dreamy rehearsal and into a reality where my dream was interfering with my honey’s sleep time. In a half sleep stupor and replied honestly and directly, “Yes, we were rehearsing for the big show that opens tomorrow. We only have one more dance to get through before we’re done.” She started laughing, and I went back to sleep so I could get back to rehearsing because I knew everyone was waiting for me.
She was kind enough to return the experience a few months later. It was probably three in the morning and Angela starts shaking me with one hand, and in a very concerned and worried voice told me, “Richard… Richard, there’s a bug on me. Get it off. I’m not even kidding. Get it off of me. It’s huge. I can’t move.”
I got out of bed, walked over to the light switch. As I flipped on the slights, Angela squeezed her eyes such and feinted away from the lights overhead. Seeing nothing on the blanket on top of her I asked, “Where’s the bug?”
Angela answered with laughter. She told me she was having a dream that we were camping and, well, you can probably guess what happened. We still laugh about that one from time to time, particularly the “I’m not even kidding” part.
There are times when sleeping can be a touch more dangerous than you would expect it to be. I have one friend that would have ninja battles in his dreams. The problem was that his wife turned out to be his opponent. He’d be facing off with some evil warrior and start kicking… in both his dream and real life, resulting in accidentally kicking his wife out of her sleep and onto the floor. Because his dreams were so vivid if she would get back in bed, he thought that the opponent was coming after him and would try to kick her out of bed again. When he woke up in the morning and found his wife asleep on the couch he was a touch confused. When he found out it was because she was afraid to get back in bed with the Sleeping American Ninja he talked to some people to get things sorted out. It’s now an incredibly rare occurrence as opposed to a once a week event.
One thing about sleep is when it’s good it’s like dessert for your brain… a sort of crunchy topped creamy yummy thing that the French are just crazy about, or that Italian cream filled cake that people who love the flavor of coffee just can’t seem to get enough of… or a combination of the two like some sort of tiramisu flavored Crème Brulee. Of course when it’s bad, it’s like a lot like poring yourself a tall glass of fresh brewed ice tea and half way down your realize you just poured yourself a glass of the vegetable soup stock that was made the night before, which has two key flavors that you’ve been gulping down, garlic and onions. It’s not an experience I’d wish on anyone, and it’s really not the way one should start off their day, but it sure will wake you up. Even after brushing my teeth three times I still couldn’t get the flavor out of my mouth… The point is you end up waking up tired, which I’ve always considered it to be a complete waste of time. It’s always a disgruntled morning when sleep leaves you tired.
Sleep is maintenance for your body and mind. Getting some sound sleep is like running your virus scan on your computer daily. It does help. And if you do find yourself a bit under the weather, get more sleep. Your body will thank you, your brain will thank you, and the people that could catch whatever it is you had will thank you for staying home to get some extra sleep until you felt well enough to come back to work. One last thing, when sleep comes over for the night, trust me… do not kick it out of bed. You deserve it.
What is one of your sleep stories that always puts a smirk on your face?
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: couple sleeping, dance rehearsal, ninja battle, and crème brulee.
by Richard Timothy | Sep 8, 2010 | Holiday Banter, My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended
“Those are big sheep,” Angela said from the passenger’s side of the front seat.
I made a quick glance into a field and as my eyes returned to the road I chuckled a bit and said, “Um, honey, those are llamas.”
She turned around to look out the back window and double checked. “Oh! Well I only saw their woolly backs.”
It wasn’t my cutie-baby-sweetie-pie’s first animal misidentification of the trip and it wasn’t going to be the last. The first happened as we were traveling along the freeway across some sagebrush infested plains. She looked out the window and said, “Oh look, deer.”
Focusing more on passing a Winnebago than looking at what she saw I made one small assumption and asked, “Are you sure they’re not antelope?”
“They could be. They are funny looking deer.”
People have different strengths, identifying animals in nature is really not one Angela’s. But she still tries… and I love that about her. Plus it keeps us laughing as the miles roll by.
For Labor Day weekend this year, we did something that we had not done in years… we left town. It was actually a joint effort. Three of our dear friends, one of which grew up in the same town in Wyoming as I did, and Angela and I decided to go to Star Valley for Labor Day weekend to do some hiking, and so our friend and I could introduce them to the place we identified as our “hometown” on our Facebook profiles. Our friend’s parents, who still lived in town and had the extra space, were kind enough to put us up for two nights (Saturday and Sunday).
We all arrived at our friend’s parent’s house within the same half hour. After we got our cars unpacked, we all piled into Angela’s car and headed up the canyon to go on a hike to see the world’s largest intermittent spring. Sure there were a lot of cowboy’s and jacked up trucks I had to deal with growing up, but the water… it’s liquid perfection. Whenever I have the treat of being able to drink some, it always takes me back. It is the flavor of my youth… well that and Mountain Dew.
After our hike, which is now mostly a stroll due to a lot of trail reformation thanks to excessive use of a CAT, we made our way to a little chocolate shop on Main Street. We even parked next to the only street light in town; a flashing yellow light where a crosswalk is in the middle of Main Street. It just so happens to be resting on right under a mammoth (as in large and not the extinct animal of the woolly variety) arch made of elk horns that spans across the entire four lane width of Main Street. The claim is that it’s a largest elk horn arch in the world. I don’t know if this is true or not, but it’s always stricken me as an odd source of town pride… and it’s been there as long as I can remember making the people of Afton very proud.
Star Valley is beautiful… I will give it that well deserved credit. I say Star Valley instead of Afton because Afton is in Star Valley. See there are about nine or ten little towns in the forty mile stretch that makes up Star Valley. So even though there are a bunch of elementary schools there is only one junior high school and high school, both of which bare the title Star Valley. So when I say Star Valley I do mean Afton as well, but I also mean all of the other towns that make up the valley as well.
One thing I did manage to do while driving everyone around town was to show them all of the buildings I had climbed on top of and thrown tomatoes, water balloons, and eggs off of. There was that one Molotov cocktail that was thrown off the movie theater once, but I had nothing to do with… I mean I was there, but I didn’t help make the thing, or light it… or throw it… I might verbally suggested that the culprit give the thing a toss once it had been lit, but that’s it, I swear. It was late at night too, so most everyone was asleep and the flames only lasted about five minutes anyway. The police never even showed up to investigate… and the flames were only about 100 yards from the dispatch center, so it’s not like they would have far to go if they had noticed.
It’s funny, but after almost 20 years of not living there, most things still look the same. There are a few new buildings that are pretty and a few remolded ones that are the kind of eye sore that had your eyes their own appendages they would poke themselves in the eye just so they wouldn’t have to look at it. I’m talking about you Courtesy Ford.
Saturday consisted of enjoying dinner with our friend’s parents, followed by a discussion about post-modern movement of philosophy. It was actually a lovely discussion, which we rewarded ourselves but getting shakes at the local drive-in restaurant the Red Baron, which is still as good as I remember. Well done and thank you for not letting my nostalgic taste buds down. Then went and caught the late show at the only theater in town, which is part of that same eye sore car dealership of a building.
Because Star Valley was settled by religious folk, and the offspring of these said religious folk still make up 95+% of the entire valley’s population this can only mean one thing… nothing is open on Sundays. So to address this issue, we went to Jackson (Jackson Hole) for the day instead, because in Jackson, tourism trumps religion every time. It was a bit blustery, but we still made it to some nice spots and took lots of pictures of the illustrious Tetons. We even had another Angela animal sighting… turned out to be an elk… pretending to be a moose.
We stopped at the grocery before leaving town so we could A) get some food for dinner because the grocery in Star Valley was closed and B) so we could buy some wine for dinner. Let’s just say liquor stores in Star Valley are not renowned for their wine selections… unless you consider all of the flavors of Boone’s Farm flavored malt beverages to count as wine. For my ‘take home and save for a special occasion’ find I scored a bottle of ‘Old Codger’ an Australian Port. I have no idea if it’s good or not, but seriously, how could you pass up a port called ‘Old Codger.’ I smile every time I look at the bottle.
Sunday evening ended with us sitting around the dinner in the guest kitchen, eating cheese and bread, enjoying aged balsamic vinegar with the cheese and bread and filling the night with sips of wine and conversation about how we came out of a small Wyoming town ‘normal’ and with a liberal perspective. We then topped the evening off with a few eyefuls of stars thank to our friend bringing his telescope.
I do have to say though, that there was one thing that kept cracking me up the whole trip. I’m sure I was the only one to notice, but it was the constant use of the phrase, “I’ve got 3G coverage here,” or the other just as used phrase, “I’ve got no signal here.” I guess when you use your phone as a paper weight with a monthly payment plan phrases like that never come to mind. But for those that use their phones to update Facebook, use the GPS so we don’t miss our turn, or Google one of the little sites we are seeing to get a more in-depth history about it, I can see how that could be important.
All in all, it was a brilliant Labor Day weekend… and I only scared the hell out of my wife about 23 different times passing cars on the small back highways the lead out of Wyoming back to Utah… but for the record, we did make good time, and that nervous twitch in her eye is gone now. As for Star Valley, I’m glad I don’t live there anymore, but it is a groovy little place to spend a weekend…. you know, before the snow sets in. Thanks for the memories you little valley of stars.
How was your Labor Day weekend?
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: road trip couple, periodic spring, elk horn arch, Courtesy Ford, Cunningham’s Cabin, Old Codger port, and Star Valley.
by Richard Timothy | Sep 1, 2010 | I Do Suggest, My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended
Last week I went to see Norah Jones in concert at a lovely little place in Salt Lake called Red Butte Gardens. They always put on a concert series, but only during summer due to it being an outside venue. It is a beautiful, and always a great show… unless you have allergies… or a freak rain storm blows in… or if any other extreme and tedious weather mishaps occur. For my night with Norah, it was perfect.
The other groovy thing about concerts at this particular location is that it is an open bar venue… as long as you bring the bar. So with a cooler in hand, well, it was a cooler on wheels so I just had to hold on to the handle and let the thing roll along behind us, we found a spot on the lawn and began to enjoy our dinner and some wine as the warm up band began warming up. It was almost the perfect evening…
There was a collection of little nuances that helped sculpt this evening into a night that will not be soon forgotten. First was the wine, all very yummy, but a little difficult to get to at first. For the record we remembered the Swiss Army knife. The down side is that we grabbed the one without the cork screw. This was easily rectified thanks to the couple sitting next to us. They, being wine drinkers as well, were kind enough to lend us their de-corking apparatus. So in a fit of brilliance, I opened all three bottles at once so we would not need to bother the couple again each time we wanted to open a bottle. This would have worked perfectly had we not been so pressing in our re-corking of the freshly opened bottles. One of our reds had the cork returned a little too much. Then trying to remove the cork by hand, the little thing tore right off. But the nice couple retained their nice trait and lent us the wine opener again. (We even gave them cookies to as an offering of our gratitude.)
At one point in the evening while we were still enjoying our wine and cheese, and before the sun had completely set and Norah had come out, there was a bug that had chosen to nestle in my hair without my consent. I didn’t care because I couldn’t feel it. My sweetie-baby-cutie-pie on the other hand did notice it and felt very adamant that this bug was crossing the social etiquette line. So in response she reached up and swiped at the bug to get out of my hair. The bug was a trifle petite and suffered from an incredibly weak constitution and from Angela’s little swipe jumped out of my hair, landed in my ear and proceeded to instantly die.
At this point Angela began laughing and tried to get the dead bug by sticking her finger in my ear, hence pushing the newly deceased insect deeper into my ear. I then acquired the disposition of an ex-junkie with a permanent tic having an acid flashback. I started out with shaking my head from side to side. The dead bug remained. Next, I started banging my head again my open hand while tilting my head so the ear with the bug in it was facing the ground. Then I started fanning my ear with my hand in an attempt to create a small breeze that would dislodge the bug and let it slide out of my ear. Eventually this, along with the occasional banging my head against my hand freed my ear of the deceased intruder. Angela was kind enough to continue laughing though this entire debugging process.
Finally, Norah joined us all and came out on stage. Spirits were high, and two bottles were now completely empty. As her set played on, I did notice something, as Norah was playing her set I was enamored with the songs she was playing. They were from her newest album, which I’ll admit I’ve not listened to as much as I would have liked. Then, when she got to her tried and true songs that people who listen to her know and love, I wasn’t nearly a smitten. I enjoy her recent stuff a lot more than the music that got me hooked on listening to her in the first place… I’m not sure that has ever happened to me before.
Then at one point during her set, as she finished one song and the audience started clapping, and cheering, and woo hooing, one of the friends we were with, would had topped off most of the third bottle all by himself at this time, belted out, “I love you Natalie!” This was followed by his wife briefly explaining to him that Norah Jones was on stage and not Natalie Merchant, which was followed by a round of giggling from our corner of the audience.
The only mishap apart from the bug in the ear was when I finally got to my car during the mass exodus after the show ended. The white SUV I had parked next to was long gone by this point, but they had been kind enough to leave a white strip of rubbed off bumper along the driver’s side of my car. If ran the length of both doors. I guess the driver was lacking in the “backing straight out” skill that helps compile the “competent driver” skill set that I thought was necessary for people to get their drivers license. Wishful thinking on my part I guess. The white bumper streak wiped off pretty easily though, and since my car is a tool that gets me to work and back and not something I pamper and wash once a week, and weep when it gets violated as such, I’m not all that emotionally attached to it. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Still, it certainly added to the overall experience of evening.
All in all, it was a great night and a brilliant concert. If you get chance, by all means check out one of her shows. I recommend three bottles of wine per four people, but feel free to play with that number depending on your budget and your consumption level limits as a professional drinker. Oh, and don’t forget your cork screw!
What was one of your more memorable concerts?
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: Red Butte Gardens, Swiss Army knife, bug in ear, Norah Jones, and bad drivers.
by Richard Timothy | Aug 30, 2010 | My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, When I Was a Kid
Work is, well, it can mean a lot of things really. It can mean employment, or house work, or labor, or manual labor, or wage labor. Some would say work is the amount of energy transferred by a force. In thermodynamics I believe they define it as the quantity of energy transferred from one system to another. In a religious perspective Christians refer to work as acts of charity. Regardless of what avenue you play on, a fairly safe generalization is that work is the process of doing something.
Now I have done a lot of something’s in my time, so in an attempt to create a bit more of a finite perspective on this topic, I’m going to be using the word work in the context of performing a function for a person/company in which they exchange the time I spend working for them for green paper, which are commonly referred to as dollars, bucks, cash, mula, dough, bread… well you get the picture. The common everyday word for this exchange is called a job.
Over the years, let’s just say I’ve had my share of jobs. Sometimes even two or three at a time, sometimes four or five different ones in a year. Not because I was a bad employee, but because I was in a perpetual state of change. A change which meant I would be moving in just a short amount of time. I always find it mildly entertaining to look back at all the jobs I’ve had in the past and to see what I’ve learned from them. I believe this will be in mostly chronological order… mostly being the key word there:
Worm Picker
I learned that pouring garbage can after garbage can filled water and a chemical that makes worms freak out and race to the surface is a creepy and disturbing way to make $5/pound for worms. I also learned that I really don’t like holding worms, they are kind of gross. Recommendation: Skip it, unless you enjoy pulling slimy, wiggling worms out of the ground with your bare hands.
DJ for School Dances
I learned it’s really easy to become a DJ at 13 if your dad has a side business where he owns a mobile light show and sound system for putting on school dances. I also learned that you will never be able to make everyone happy, and if ever stuck on what song you should play next, go with the song that makes the person you have a crush on smile. It won’t do any good in helping you score a kiss, or even getting them to agree to slow dance with your, but at least you’ll get them smiling because of something you did. Recommendation: Worth the experience, but stay away from radio. Besides, it is fun for a while.
Fast Food Peon
I learned that flipping burgers at a fast food place is just was horrible as selling worms to fishing shops. I also learned that at 15 I was willing to do a 3 hour commute every day for the summer just to make $4/hour so I could buy my own school clothes. Recommendation: Skip it, unless you are required to do 100 hours of community service and serving burgers is one of your options; or unless you are 15 and it’s the only place hiring.
Grocery Bagger
I learned I hate asking, “paper or plastic?” Likewise, waking up at 5am to unload groceries from the back of a semi and stocking the shelves as fast as possible before leaving at 8am to get to school is one of the closest things to hell on Earth I can imagine… or could imagine while I was in high school. Recommendation: If you do mornings well, go for it.
Ice Cream Scooper
I don’t mean I was an actually ice cream scooper used to scoop ice cream, but the scooper that scooped ice cream using an ice cream scoop for people who wanted to buy it. I learned that I really don’t like ice cream that much. I also learned that when your co-worker is the 15 year old grandson of the owners, you should never comment that the grandson just clocks in and leaves work for the day, getting paid to do nothing. Because at that point you are the one that gets yelled at by the owners for being a bad employee. Recommendation: Buy some Ben & Jerry’s and skip the job interview.
Resort Jack of all Trades
I worked at a small resort where I cleaned room, mowed the lawns, tended the gift shop, took dinner and room reservations, waited tables, was a prep cook, was the breakfast and lunch cook, did construction… and served the occasional drink. I learned that if you have no friends in the area to distract you and have a boss that does not believe in overtime, but will let you work as much as you want so he doesn’t have to hire more people. It is possible to work close to 80 in one week. Recommendation: If they are good people and have an endless supply of stories and treat you well, it’s really not a bad way to spend the summer when you’re 18. Plus because you are working so much you end up saving most of your money instead of spending it during your free time… mainly because you don’t have any free time.
Day Care Worker/White Power Ranger
I learned that when you are working with a bunch of three to five year olds and you have long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and it’s the mid 90’s, you are going to play Power Rangers every single day at work and you are always going to be Tommy, the White Ranger. I also learned more about the Mighty Morphing Power Rangers than I ever thought was acceptable for an adult to learn… I even found myself watching some of the episodes for “homework” purposes. Recommendation: For a semester, definitely… little people are always a good resource for making you laugh, especially when they don’t mean to.
College Dorm Room RA
I learned that working at a college day care was much more worthwhile than being in charge of babysitting a floor of college students that were only a year or two younger than me. The kids were much easier to deal with… plus they never arrived at the day care drunk. Unlike almost everyone on my dorm floor. Recommendation: It was a lot more work than I expected, but it wasn’t that bad. Besides, being an RA meant that I did have my own room, so in that regard I’d say yeah, it was worth it.
Assistant Pastry Chef
I learned that in resort cities you don’t need any experience to become an assistant pastry chef; you just need to be willing to wake up at 4am each morning to get to work by 5. If you were reliable enough to do that, you were reliable enough to be trusted with baking things in the ovens. Recommendation: Definitely a fun summer job. You meet an endless supply of crazy people, most of which think you are more nuts than they are because you work as a baker. Also, if you’re lucky, you have a job waiting for you when you go home for the Winter break before the new semester starts again.
Clothes Seller and Human Eye Measure-er for the GAP
I learned that the prospect of meeting cute girls diminishes quickly when they demand they are a size 4 and you know that they are a size 6… or 8. Recommendation: As a second job for the summer months between college semesters, yeah it’s really not that difficult. Plus you get a great discount on school clothes. Also, if you become friends with the window decorator, you can actually help create a Smirkable window display every now and again. My favorite was when the mannequins had a snowball fight using rolled up boxer shorts.
Video Rental Store Clerk
I learned that when one of your coworkers is dating your sister, he really doesn’t care much when you meet his aunt at a bar and take her out a few times. I also learned that it’s helpful to have a co-worker related to the bar maid you’ve just taken a fancy to, to learn that she’s still married, but separated. (Yeah, I stopped asking her our when I learned that little nugget.) Recommendation: Yes, when you are going to school, having an endless supply of free movie rentals does come in rather handy.
Subway Sandwich Artist
I learned that when you work with a kid who smokes pot in the back cooler, he has a tendency to eat a lot of the food when things are not busy. You do spend a lot of time up front keeping an eye on things though, because of all his trips to the back cooler. I also learned that just because you wear a button that says Sandwich Artist, you’re really just some guy that makes incredibly mediocre sandwiches. Recommendation: If it allows you to keep out of the volatile living situation for eight or so hours a day, yeah it might be worth it. Otherwise, find a local sandwich instead.
Precook at a Steak House
I learned that working with your dad in a kitchen can be a lot of fun. But if you boss (which is not your father) is an unrelenting drunk that keeps disrupting your work and then yells at you for not working, it’s a job that you don’t need. Recommendation: I might be ok to learn a few things about working in a kitchen, but don’t be afraid to walk out on the drunk.
Door to Door Sales Man
I learned that people don’t like to be interrupted at their homes by strangers trying to peddle them something they really don’t need. I also learned that the truly crazy ones are the one that will actually invite you in. Recommendation: For the sake of having a lifetime of stories about really obscure people and situations, by all means yes, just don’t make it a life time vocational choice. The experience is worth it as long as it ends.
Coffee Shop Deli Boy
I learned a lot about a product that I hate… coffee. I also learned that I really only like customer service when I can make food for people I like instead of everyone who comes in asking to be fed. I learned that working with your best friend can be a lot of fun, but also make you want to put their head in a Panini grill every once in a while. I also learned that you can barter meals for a bmx bike or even hypnotherapy sessions. Recommendation: Yes, you meet a lot of great people, who, when they remember to tip, are downright sweethearts, also if you have a thing from baristas, you stick with the job long after you should have moved on to bigger and better things.
Banana Republic Stock-Boy
I learned that hanging out in a cool basement running closes up to the main floor for customers that you would not be helping in any way is a nice customer service job that keeps you away from the customers. I learned when it comes to spending the summer in San Francisco; there are worse places to be than at work in a clothing store. I also learned that San Francisco is the town of a thousand smells, and it’s a nice place see, but I wouldn’t want to live there. Recommendation: It’s an ok distraction and gives you some cash to buy sandwiches while you are spending the summer in San Francisco to write.
Newspaper Opinion Columnist
I learned that writing a liberal opinion column for a mostly conservative campus paper is a good way to get voted as the most hated person on campus. I learned that editors are very useful things to have access too. I also learned that some people do not handle negative criticism about their negative criticism well. For the record I only had to call the cops once due to threats. Recommendation: Definitely, getting paid to share your opinion is one of the sweetest gigs I think I’ve ever had.
Writer of Technical Documents
I learned that I can get a job with an English degree that doesn’t require me to teach a class. I also learned that when you tell someone that you are a technical writer, about 98% of the time they will ask you, “What’s that?” Recommendation: It’s definitely not for everyone, but if you can do it and after 8 years you feel fine towards it… I figure that’s a good thing… well, it’s not bad anyway. Also, if you’re lucky you just might meet that special someone that asks you to marry them.
Blogger
I’ve learned that for me creative and satirical writing is the cat’s meow, the marshmallow in my rice crispy treat, the Sangiovese grape that makes my favorite wines my favorite wines, the K in MST3K, the little crack you feel when stretching your back that makes everything feel better… I could keep going, but I think you get the point. Recommendation: Absolutely. If you enjoy writing, then write. I love it. Also, when others tell you that they love it as well, well then that’s a whole new sentence of obscure analogies which ultimately mean, “it’s pretty damn cool.”
And there you have it, my job list. I think that’s all of it. Nineteen jobs in 36 years… I’m not sure if that is excessive or pretty standard. Still, it has been a collection of life experiences… and well worth it.
What were some of your more outlandish jobs?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: work, high school dance, bagging groceries, day care, SNL GAP, sandwich artist, working at coffee shop deli, newspaper columnist, and blogging.
by Richard Timothy | Aug 23, 2010 | I Do Suggest, I Think There's a Point, MST3K, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended
So last Thursday, the 19th, I and a few of friends, made it to the RiffTrax Live! performance at one of the local theaters. Now usually when I mention RiffTrax I have to give a brief history about what RiffTrax is. If you already know, feel free to skip the next paragraph. If you don’t, a little history never hurt anyone… except all the people that were harmed in the making of the history involved… right! So about the history of RiffTrax, in order for me to do that I need to first tell you a little about their origins.
RiffTrax is essentially the love child of Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K) and short lived Film Crew. MST3K made a cult name for itself doing the very thing that we all do when watching something “sort of” to “epically” lame on the television, which is… making fun of it with your own open commentary. MST was a show about watching people watching bad movies while making fun of it. After the show ended, the three guys that finished the series started a new venture called the Film Crew. After a few hang-ups there, namely MST owner Jim Mallon (who, in my opinion, is kind of a douche bag) told the distributor of the DVDs that he would pull all future MST title distribution unless they passed on the Film Crew series, the Film Crew ended and RiffTrax began.
I know, it’s a lot of exposition just to get to the point, but I think it helps those who have no idea what RiffTrax is. A RiffTrax Live! event is where the RiffTrax crew do a live performance in a theater where you get to watch them on stage making fun of a movie. In some cases they broadcast this live event to a bunch of other theaters across the country. This is what I went to and enjoyed last Thursday.
Having been to a few of these broadcast events now, and being an MST3K fan that treads somewhere around of the edge of the “devoted” to “ludicrous” waters, I always know I’m in for a good time. One of the best things about these events is that you are surrounded by like-minded and like-humored people, people who are there because they too love MST. The audience is full of that ready to laugh energy. It’s infectious and it makes the whole event that much more entertaining. The experience did offer two new additions that I had not experienced before, namely Frank and Dwight… two of the friends that join me for the show were pretty much MST virgins.
Ok, so maybe Dwight had gotten to second base with an MST episode or two before, but that’s about it. Frank had heard about it, but I don’t think he’d ever had a full and true MST experience… which, technically, he still hasn’t, but he will. I can say that neither are RiffTrax virgins anymore. Not that it was ever on their “bucket list”, but at least now they can now put it on the list and cross it off at the same time. Also, both are newly devoted fans to the riffing on movies experience. I must say, there is something incredibly satisfying about introducing friends to one of your favorite things in the world and having them become fans of the art that is MST.
It felt a little like saving the Oompa-Loompas’ from total destruction and introducing them to a new life filled with songs and candy… and what really kind of comes across as slavery… hmmm, ok bad example. I guess you could say it’s more like smoking… minus the disgusting, smelly, smoky, cancer causing affects. What I mean is when a smoker meets someone who is also a smoker there is a sort of bond, an unspoken connection to that other person, I guess the same could be said for scrap booking… and I know I feel the same way when I learn that someone loves MST3K.
So what did we watch? Reefer Madness… in color no less. If there is one thing this 1930’s propaganda film can teach you about pot, it’s how to laugh at people who smoke too much of it. It really was a grand time, accompanied by a few really crappy special effects and some “crazy eyes” camera angles that will keep you giggling for a good two or three days after. Frank and Dwight loved it, which I loved because, guess what that means? Yep, I’ve got some MST/RiffTrax/Cinematic Titanic parties to plan. One universal truth about MST is that, even if they are fun to watch, they are so much better when you are watching them with friends that are enjoying them as well.
The point I wanted to make with all this is this… tomorrow, August 24th they are doing an Encore performance of the Reefer Madness RiffTrax Live! event. If you are a fan, but missed it, or didn’t even know about it, tomorrow is your chance to check it out. If you enjoy MST3K at all it’s well worth the price of the ticket. I just hope you live in a town that will be showing the Encore performance. Hope you can make it.
Click here to check and see if it’s playing in a theater somewhere close to you.
If you did happen to make it to the show, what did you think?
Google Images, key words: RiffTrax Live, second base, and Reefer Madness.
It happened overnight, my brother’s bank account went from a couple hundred dollars to over a million in the blink of an eye. How did he do it? Well, let me tell you…
Relativity is a funny thing, you know that whole spending 30 minutes at the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) feeling like hours… ok not the best example, because seriously whoever gets out of the DMV in 30 minutes. For me it’s more like visiting the a natural history museum, I can spend hours there and it seems like only minutes, and my wife can spend minutes there and it feels like hours and hours (sigh, adult women and their lack of dinosaur bone appreciation). The thing about relativity is that if you add enough alcohol to the equation, it doesn’t matter how long you spend at a place or in a situation, you still won’t remember it in the morning. However, even though Dave has for few drinks, which were hastily consumed, the weekend still crawled by one minute at a time. 
Dave entered the bank, waited in line until a teller was available, and then began to explain the situation. As his explanation progressed, a look of growing concern began chiseling away at the teller’s face with much the same intensity as the French did using their iron balls to blow the nose off of statues of dead Egyptian royalty. She didn’t get shot at, but it was clear that whoever had created this little blunder was probably going to be looking for a new job the second blame was attached and she was hoping it wasn’t her. 
