You'll Put Yer Eye Out!
Call me slightly insane, but there's one peculiar thing that I love about the mall... I love that
roar that comes from an open area tiled by marbled checkerboard flooring amplifying the thousands of footsteps and hundreds of conversations whispered between shoppers. Whenever you step into one of the little stores, it's like a sanctitude, a den of iniquity, where you can concentrate on getting your "shop on". The sound of the crowd changes into a quiet hum...there's only a handful of people in the store. So you slow down and search anxiously and diligently for the target prize. And upon approaching the exit of each little cave -- victorious -- your fabled treasure in hand, you step out back into the din of a relaxed (and slightly hurried) crowd of holiday shoppers... You soak in the wonderful cacophony of a five year old screaming for his little toy pop gun and the teenage kids arguing over the video game to get this year and the young couple gently walking through this year's Christmas lists...
It is now less than four shopping days until Christmas, and I'm still not finished. I thought that I would do it all online this year, but where's the joy in that? There's something to be said about taking a short "time out" from our daily lives to walk around the neighborhood mall, and spend a little time thinking of goodies to give to those near and dear to your heart. One thing that does happen every year around this time though, is I think about all those people that have been a part of my life at one time or another, remembered or forgotten...like that punk ass 9 year old kid that pissed me off in the third grade playground and got me in trouble in the principals office; or all my old coworkers from eons ago that I've lost touch with; or my old compatriots from the Filipino social club in college... just so many wonderful people that have contributed to making me who I am.
To all of you, wherever you are... Happy Holidays
(Thanks for the picture, Gary)Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
Rubbernecking And The Side Effects Of Uncontrolled Rage
For a few years now I have managed to train myself to exercise peace and tranquility in my driving through traffic. Someone riding up on my ass? Move over and let them through..."old me" would've sat there and initiated confrontation (for whatever reasons) by boxing them in and driving slower than all hell. A minivan dragging their feet in the #1 lane? Slow down, move over and go around. The philosophy has managed to keep me out of trouble and avoid those highly confrontational (and actually quite dangerous) situations that I used to find myself in during my previous life as an idiotic road-rage-filled driver.
But for some reason that I still can't quite explain, I found myself smack dab in the middle of road rage (and paid the price)...
This past Sunday night was quite enjoyable, celebrating a holiday dinner with the LIKHA family at the Grand Oaks Grill & Bar in Oakland, a place that had somewhat decent pork ribs (definitely pass on the roast beef, but go for the BBQ pork). Calling it an early night at 8PM (work beckons!) I found myself rolling down the 880 southbound on the usual route home from Oakland. A few miles before the San Mateo bridge, the sight of flashing red lights caught my eye... hmm, an ambulance decided to hop on freeway; I wonder where he's going? I'll keep my distance...
The alarm bells didn't quite register as the ambulance in front of me took the same exit I took -- 92W San Mateo Bridge. I took interest watching the emergency vehicle breeze through the toll plaza while I prepared my three dollars. It's been a good drive so far, not too much traffic and no rain. A good drive, that is, until a sea of red brake lights filled my vision.
Oh oh.
The alarm bells were sounding off now.
Looking ahead, I noticed traffic was absolutely NOT moving. And Shirley noticed emergency vehicles on both the left & right side of the freeway about a quarter mile ahead. Hm...might as well kill the lights and shut off the car. Fifteen minutes passed and so I decided to enjoy probably the only moments I'll ever have walking on the #2 lane of a 65 mph freeway sitting 10 feet above the cold and murky San Francisco Bay.
Twenty minutes later and two lanes were reopened. So we hopped in the car and got rolling again. Just five minutes away from home. Or so I thought...
Traffic accidents provide curious insight into human nature. I think it's the same motivation that attracts people to Rated R films: "I'm going to see some blood and guts!" Whatever it is, it's infuriating. Drive on, people. And
no one seems to grasp the concept that the very fact they are looking at the accident is what's at the root cause of traffic jams! Like the minivan driver in front of me. Crawling along in the #1 lane at (I kid you not) 2 miles per hour. Nevermind the fact that the accident was over on the right shoulder and that all the cars in front of him/her had already accelerated miles ahead of us...no, the car just creeped on by. For an eternity. And I'll never quite understand what the exact chemical reactions are that get triggered in that part of my brain in the span of about 10 milliseconds, but something snapped. All emotion took control and I found myself in the emergency lane, passing the retarded minivan.
Yes, it's illegal.
And yes, we were passing an
accident that had lots of
highway patrol cars there.
Hey, it's road rage. Throw logic out the window.
Soon enough, my rear view mirror filled with the sight of a quickly approaching late model Ford Crown Victoria. With pretty flashing lights. Needless to say, the night ended with me facing the prospect of spending eight hours of a Saturday listening to someone lecture me about drunk driving, how speed kills, and (I'm sure) the ill effects of road rage. I just wish they would teach people about the real damage that rubbernecking causes.
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Squeeze Me
That's it.
This little bumpstop in the vast internet landscape has finally degenerated... The demands of a workaholic life and the desire to spend my time with Heroes, BSG, and football on my DVR have reduced my contributions on this weblog to useless bits about stupid mp3s on the laptop and materialistic pursuits of useless toys like the Squeezebox.
Dear Santa...all I want for Christmas is one of
these.
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Spicy Just Like Hot Sauce
Ciara's song has such an
addicting beat.
Yes, it's dark outside. And I'm at work. And I'm dancing in my cube.
Songs like this make me
really want that JL Audio 12W3 in a bandpass setup. It would be so much fun to haul down the 101 with this song.
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Sweet Sensation
I love sugar.
Especially when it comes in little chewy wafers.
These Trader Joe stroopwaffles aren't too far off from the Dutch variety. They manage to pull of the same consistency, but the sweetness is not as prominent.
Regardless...mmmm, mmmm, good!!
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(Thanks for the picture, Gary)
