It's nearly 3 AM in the morning. By the time I finish writing this, it will probably be past 4 AM. I just feel like I have to write this down to help take the weight off. If you're reading this expecting something funny, scroll down to another one of my blogs as this is coming straight from the heart.
I just finished having a 2+ hour talk with an online friend I first met probably a year or so ago on battle.net playing Diablo 2. He had quit for about 3-4 months, and he had just come back for the first time tonight. I saw him on and started casually talking about stuff...where he's been, if any of his characters had expired, etc...
Eventually, he revealed why he had been absent from Diablo 2 for so long. Apparently, his wife has been cheating on him recently and they are considering a divorce, which is heartbreaking because they have a young child named Dylan who is too young to understand any of this now but who may end up growing up with only one loving parent. Because of this, he feels isolated and alone and depressed about life in general.
Without going into too many details as I don't want to expose too much of what he told me to the general public, I want to give some background as to the situation. Dave (the friend I was talking to) is 20 years old right now and married to Lynae, who is 19. They got married about a year ago or so due to the fact that Lynae was pregnant with their child, Dylan.
Long story short: Lynae recently cheated on Dave with his best friend, Jared. Several months after it happened, Lynae told Dave about it and since then it has literally torn Dave apart to the point where he feels he is at rock-bottom and has nowhere to turn. He told me he has always had low self-esteem and was never very social, and that the only 2 people that he really opened up to were Lynae and Jared. So now that they have betrayed him, he feels that he cannot trust either of them or anyone else and he is now very dejected. He said several times during our conversation that he hates his life, and that he hates himself.
Personally, I have no experience with serious relationships like this, but I felt like I was Dave's last beacon of hope, and that I had to do something to get him out of this self-detrimental state he was in. So I listened to him pour his heart out about every little detail of what happened, and I did my best to encourage him and tell him that he couldn't dwell on this forever...that he had to continue on with his life and stop living in the past and to try to do what is right for his son Dylan. I'm not going to cover every detail of what he said and how I responded to it since I don't remember everything and plus it would just be too long.
One thing Dave has going for him is that he is religious and that he truly believes that God will be there for him when he needs him. I continually tried to encourage him to think of this experience as a test of will...that he needs to be willing to accept the fact that he made a mistake marrying Lynae at such an early age when she obviously does not love him completely, and move on without being so hard on himself. Fortunately, he has his ideals in the right place now. He wants to do what's best for his son and he wants to stay in his church and remain faithful. It's just that he has absolutely no self-esteem right now because of what his wife and best friend did to him so it's extremely difficult for him to do anything productive with his life right now.
So I felt that it was my responsibility to be Dave's support even though he didn't want to keep me up so late since he knew I had school tomorrow. But I insisted on hearing his story in its entirety and trying my best to make helpful and positive comments. I was really surprised at some of the insightful things I said throughout the conversation...I didn't even know I had it in me as I've never talked to anyone about anything like this before. As I reflect on some key parts of the conversation where I felt I was making an impact on his point of view, I think I really did make a difference in his life for the better.
He was very self-detrimental throughout the conversation even when I tried to accentuate a strong point of his personality or when I tried to put a positive note on the negative feelings he was expressing. He kept saying that no one would want to marry a 20 year old divorced father of one, and I kept telling him that it didn't matter what had happened in the past, but that he would find a woman who loves him for who he is...and not for who he was. And after about 2 hours of talking and encouraging and helping, I could tell I was really starting to get through to him. And that made it all worth while. I could tell everything that I said eventually clicked. I could tell that every positive thing I helped him realize about himself was starting to sink in...that he really wasn't alone in the world and that he really did have hope after all had seemed so grim.
It was a very powerful feeling for me to realize that I may have helped Dave get back on the right track of life. As the conversation started to end, he thanked me several times for everything that I said and that because of what I had told him, he felt he was able to restart his journey of living life again, after everything he held so dear to himself was torn away. He acknowledged that it was going to be a long and hard process to start anew after losing almost everything that was important to him. But at the end, he told me that he realized that he still has God to turn to, and that he always will have him throughout his life. He told me that I was a great friend and that he was very appreciative of what I had done for him.
And this whole experience was so new to me that I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, so I had to put it down in writing. I can't think of a better way to start Great Lent than helping a casual acquaintance from a video game literally turn his life around by simply saying some kind and positive words in order to start him back on the path of life. As I look at the clock right now, it reads 4:21 AM. I'll have to get up and go to school in 4 hours. But what's a little lost sleep compared to changing someone's life? It's an amazing feeling.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Monday, February 02, 2004
Where's My Burrito?!?!?
The time has come for me to post one of my favorite essays. It was originally written during my freshman year in college in English 100 as an assigned essay. The topic, though I don't remember it exactly, was something along the lines of choosing a cultural establishment and write about how it has shaped the culture surrounding it. Naturally, since I work at Taco Bell, I wrote about that. This version has a few updates in it from the previous essay, but nothing major.
Unfortunately, this blog site doesn't seem to be able to support Word smilies as in the original essay I had a running joke involving all different kinds of smilies and other Word graphics. But I'll just have to leave most of them out this time since they end up looking like little boxes. Hopefully this essay will teach you something about the life of a drive-thru cashier...
Where's My Burrito?!?!?
When I think about fast food, the first three things that pop into my head are speed, accuracy, and cost. However, I have found that my views differ from other people’s views. Amazing isn’t it? I think so too. For instance, the average American ordering at a fast food drive-thru restaurant is thinking the following three things: “I wonder if the person taking my order will be able to speak English?”, “Gee, I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to fit in the drive-thru”, and above all, “I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to make it through the drive-thru before it runs out of gas.” Fast food restaurants have a reputation for being a quick and cost-effective way to eat. Because of this, they have also made our culture one that is very fast-paced and that demands more out of every minute. People want their food and they want it fast. On the other hand, fast food restaurants have also made our society become lazier and lazier. If your average Fatty McLardbelly suddenly feels hungry because it’s been eight minutes since he last ate, he can just waddle over to the nearest fast food restaurant, toss five bucks in the general direction of the nearest cashier, and eat until he collapses due to massive heart failure. No longer do people have to stand over a hot stove to cook their meals. They can pay someone else to do it for them! This sort of here-is-some-money-give-me-food-now mentality has injected itself into the brain of Modern America, and seduced people into thinking that going through the drive-thru should be a quick and effortless thing, and if it ever takes longer than a couple minutes, they are oftentimes deeply distressed and angered. This whole Drive-Thru Mentality has taken America by the throat (or in this case, the stomach) and made our culture an advocate of sloth, gluttony, and indifference.
Of all the fast food restaurants I could talk about, I chose the one that I know the most about, and that is Taco Bell. The reason I know so much about “The Bell” is because I work there as a cashier. My store is located at Beach and Garfield in Huntington Beach. The exterior is pretty simple. There are large patches of well-kept green grass with the occasional palm tree planted in the middle. The building is painted tan and there are numerous windows with promotional posters hung on them. Behind the building are the drive-thru lane and the order box. The drive-thru lane curves around the left side of the restaurant and passes two windows. The first window is where I usually work and is where the customer pays, and the second is where the customer gets the food. It is the largest Taco Bell that I know of, inside and out. However, the drive-thru lane is poorly thought out. Hanging over the drive-thru lane are a bunch of pilings that form some sort of semblance of a roof. But when it rains, they offer about the same protection as a wilted diaper. On a rainy Saturday a few months ago, a customer came through the drive-thru, stopped at the order box, and the first thing out of her mouth was something to the effect of, “I’ve got leather seats, so I’m gonna roll my window up.” However, she said it so fast and incoherent that I couldn’t understand a word of it at the time. So there she sits for about two minutes with the windows rolled up, trying to decide what to get. Basically, anything over forty-five seconds is too long to be sitting at the order box, and since one of the main things Taco Bell stresses is Speed of Service, by this time my manager was foaming at the mouth with rage. When she actually ordered, she yelled (probably because her window was only rolled down a quarter of an inch to keep the rain out) out something that, to me, sounded vaguely like a wounded cow calling to its mother. If I understood her correctly, she said, “IwantANumberFiveNoTomatoesPepsiTwoBurritoSupremeNumberSevenWithSierra
MistNoIceAndThreeWiltedDiapersToDryMyLeatherSeatsWithBecauseI’maLittlePansy
ThatIsAfraidOfRuiningMyPreciousLexusThatIBoughtBecauseIcan’tAffordToPayTheGas
PricesOfTheBrandNewFordAircraftCarrier SUV. Moo.” Then when she got up to the window, she was snottier than Mucus Man™ in a pollinating field during allergy season.
I have worked at this Taco Bell for about a year and a half now, and during that time, I have seen many different people from many different backgrounds with many different life stories. I have experienced many different attitudes and customs that this culture shares. I find it amazing sometimes how different the people are that come through the drive-thru. Basically, I have sorted out the people that come to Taco Bell into three groups: 1.) The Nice-People-That-Smile-At-You 2.)The People-That-You-Don’t-Hate-But-Who-You-Wouldn’t-Necessarily-Want-To-Befriend, and 3.)The People-That-You-Would-Like-To-Strike-Repeatedly-With-A-Hot-Tire-Iron. The nice people that come through the drive-thru make my job so much easier. They are jubilant when you correctly take their order, they smile when they come up to the window, their voice has a friendly tone to it, and they depart by saying, “Thanks, have a nice day” or “Here, have some free money.” The second group of people are the kind of people who will tell me their order, pay, get their food, and leave. No friendliness is expressed by them in the least bit. Sometimes they won’t even say anything. They will just yell their order at the box, zoom up to the window, hand me a wad of crumpled bills and/or about five pounds of change that they found under their seat which is encrusted with at least three of the following: gum, candy, rat poison, insect larvae, battery acid, blood, sweat, tears, dinosaur feces, or lollypops. Then they leave without saying “goodbye” or “have a nice day” or “gee your hair smells delicious.” They just accelerate towards the second window as fast as they can as if there were a group of car-to-car salesmen chasing them. Last and certainly least, there is the third and most despised group of people. The lady in the Lexus that I mentioned earlier would fall into this category. Other fine examples would be the kind of people that demand that I give them “lots” of hot sauce. I ask them, “Would you like any hot or mild sauce?”. They reply by saying, “What? Wait, let me turn my music volume down from “Mach 10” to “Ear-Piercing”.” I then repeat myself, and they say that they "want a lot of hot sauce." So I get a little bag that I give every customer that contains their napkins, receipt, and a complimentary “1025 hours free” AOL CD, and into that bag I insert enough hot or mild sauce to feed eighteen hungry children in Africa. I then proceed to hand them the bag, at which point they exclaim, “Hey bro, can I get some more sauce?” This prompts me to look at them in a malevolent manner and begrudgingly take out my tire iron and…WHAM!!!!
In all honesty, I really enjoy working at Taco Bell because it really gives me a perspective about our culture and people’s attitudes in general. Personally, I don’t mind working at a restaurant that is very high in grease output and comparatively low in nutrition input. In fact, if there ever was a high demand for grease, Taco Bell could become a major world power. If I were you, I’d put my money in Taco Bell stock. I know I will. Just think, soon I will be the proud new owner of a brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV that I can use to drive my lazy self to the nearest drive-thru restaurant and order some wilted diapers to clean my leather seats with. I’ll be sure to bring along my tire iron in self-defense.
Unfortunately, this blog site doesn't seem to be able to support Word smilies as in the original essay I had a running joke involving all different kinds of smilies and other Word graphics. But I'll just have to leave most of them out this time since they end up looking like little boxes. Hopefully this essay will teach you something about the life of a drive-thru cashier...
Where's My Burrito?!?!?
When I think about fast food, the first three things that pop into my head are speed, accuracy, and cost. However, I have found that my views differ from other people’s views. Amazing isn’t it? I think so too. For instance, the average American ordering at a fast food drive-thru restaurant is thinking the following three things: “I wonder if the person taking my order will be able to speak English?”, “Gee, I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to fit in the drive-thru”, and above all, “I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to make it through the drive-thru before it runs out of gas.” Fast food restaurants have a reputation for being a quick and cost-effective way to eat. Because of this, they have also made our culture one that is very fast-paced and that demands more out of every minute. People want their food and they want it fast. On the other hand, fast food restaurants have also made our society become lazier and lazier. If your average Fatty McLardbelly suddenly feels hungry because it’s been eight minutes since he last ate, he can just waddle over to the nearest fast food restaurant, toss five bucks in the general direction of the nearest cashier, and eat until he collapses due to massive heart failure. No longer do people have to stand over a hot stove to cook their meals. They can pay someone else to do it for them! This sort of here-is-some-money-give-me-food-now mentality has injected itself into the brain of Modern America, and seduced people into thinking that going through the drive-thru should be a quick and effortless thing, and if it ever takes longer than a couple minutes, they are oftentimes deeply distressed and angered. This whole Drive-Thru Mentality has taken America by the throat (or in this case, the stomach) and made our culture an advocate of sloth, gluttony, and indifference.
Of all the fast food restaurants I could talk about, I chose the one that I know the most about, and that is Taco Bell. The reason I know so much about “The Bell” is because I work there as a cashier. My store is located at Beach and Garfield in Huntington Beach. The exterior is pretty simple. There are large patches of well-kept green grass with the occasional palm tree planted in the middle. The building is painted tan and there are numerous windows with promotional posters hung on them. Behind the building are the drive-thru lane and the order box. The drive-thru lane curves around the left side of the restaurant and passes two windows. The first window is where I usually work and is where the customer pays, and the second is where the customer gets the food. It is the largest Taco Bell that I know of, inside and out. However, the drive-thru lane is poorly thought out. Hanging over the drive-thru lane are a bunch of pilings that form some sort of semblance of a roof. But when it rains, they offer about the same protection as a wilted diaper. On a rainy Saturday a few months ago, a customer came through the drive-thru, stopped at the order box, and the first thing out of her mouth was something to the effect of, “I’ve got leather seats, so I’m gonna roll my window up.” However, she said it so fast and incoherent that I couldn’t understand a word of it at the time. So there she sits for about two minutes with the windows rolled up, trying to decide what to get. Basically, anything over forty-five seconds is too long to be sitting at the order box, and since one of the main things Taco Bell stresses is Speed of Service, by this time my manager was foaming at the mouth with rage. When she actually ordered, she yelled (probably because her window was only rolled down a quarter of an inch to keep the rain out) out something that, to me, sounded vaguely like a wounded cow calling to its mother. If I understood her correctly, she said, “IwantANumberFiveNoTomatoesPepsiTwoBurritoSupremeNumberSevenWithSierra
MistNoIceAndThreeWiltedDiapersToDryMyLeatherSeatsWithBecauseI’maLittlePansy
ThatIsAfraidOfRuiningMyPreciousLexusThatIBoughtBecauseIcan’tAffordToPayTheGas
PricesOfTheBrandNewFordAircraftCarrier SUV. Moo.” Then when she got up to the window, she was snottier than Mucus Man™ in a pollinating field during allergy season.
I have worked at this Taco Bell for about a year and a half now, and during that time, I have seen many different people from many different backgrounds with many different life stories. I have experienced many different attitudes and customs that this culture shares. I find it amazing sometimes how different the people are that come through the drive-thru. Basically, I have sorted out the people that come to Taco Bell into three groups: 1.) The Nice-People-That-Smile-At-You 2.)The People-That-You-Don’t-Hate-But-Who-You-Wouldn’t-Necessarily-Want-To-Befriend, and 3.)The People-That-You-Would-Like-To-Strike-Repeatedly-With-A-Hot-Tire-Iron. The nice people that come through the drive-thru make my job so much easier. They are jubilant when you correctly take their order, they smile when they come up to the window, their voice has a friendly tone to it, and they depart by saying, “Thanks, have a nice day” or “Here, have some free money.” The second group of people are the kind of people who will tell me their order, pay, get their food, and leave. No friendliness is expressed by them in the least bit. Sometimes they won’t even say anything. They will just yell their order at the box, zoom up to the window, hand me a wad of crumpled bills and/or about five pounds of change that they found under their seat which is encrusted with at least three of the following: gum, candy, rat poison, insect larvae, battery acid, blood, sweat, tears, dinosaur feces, or lollypops. Then they leave without saying “goodbye” or “have a nice day” or “gee your hair smells delicious.” They just accelerate towards the second window as fast as they can as if there were a group of car-to-car salesmen chasing them. Last and certainly least, there is the third and most despised group of people. The lady in the Lexus that I mentioned earlier would fall into this category. Other fine examples would be the kind of people that demand that I give them “lots” of hot sauce. I ask them, “Would you like any hot or mild sauce?”. They reply by saying, “What? Wait, let me turn my music volume down from “Mach 10” to “Ear-Piercing”.” I then repeat myself, and they say that they "want a lot of hot sauce." So I get a little bag that I give every customer that contains their napkins, receipt, and a complimentary “1025 hours free” AOL CD, and into that bag I insert enough hot or mild sauce to feed eighteen hungry children in Africa. I then proceed to hand them the bag, at which point they exclaim, “Hey bro, can I get some more sauce?” This prompts me to look at them in a malevolent manner and begrudgingly take out my tire iron and…WHAM!!!!
In all honesty, I really enjoy working at Taco Bell because it really gives me a perspective about our culture and people’s attitudes in general. Personally, I don’t mind working at a restaurant that is very high in grease output and comparatively low in nutrition input. In fact, if there ever was a high demand for grease, Taco Bell could become a major world power. If I were you, I’d put my money in Taco Bell stock. I know I will. Just think, soon I will be the proud new owner of a brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV that I can use to drive my lazy self to the nearest drive-thru restaurant and order some wilted diapers to clean my leather seats with. I’ll be sure to bring along my tire iron in self-defense.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Mucus Man
Disclaimer: The following short story contains graphic depictions of nasal excrement. Read with caution...and preferably without a full stomach.
I wrote this short story back in my senior year of high school. The assignment was pretty much to create a hero with his own unique background and code of conduct. So naturally, Mucus Man was born. (And I got a 49/50 on this assignment)
Mucus Man
He's faster than a speeding snot rocket! He's MUCUS MAN!!!!!!
On a breezy spring day, three years ago, The Gigantic Nose Man was taking a walk on a trail with many colorful and pollinating flowers. Unfortunately for him, his sinuses were acting up, and his gigantic nose was flowing freely. He was doing all right until he inhaled a large amount of pollen from a flower he was passing, and he let out a disgusting, slimy, dirty sneeze. That was how Mucus Man was born.
At first, The Gigantic Nose Man was utterly appalled that such an abomination came out of his nose, but after a while, he finally accepted the fact that he did create him, and that he should care for Mucus Man. Of course, the obvious setback of having a...um...thing made completely out of snot, is that everything he touches gets snotty too. The couch, the silverware, the family dog, The Gigantic Nose Man's toothbrush, the television remote, the Kleenex box, etc... The list really can go on and on. Of course, as expected, The Gigantic Nose Man was not pleased after finding snot on his toothbrush, especially since he found out after he brushed his teeth.
Because of this, Mucus Man did not have many friends or possessions. The only thing The Gigantic Nose Man gave Mucus Man was a black bandanna to clean up all the snot with. However, Mucus Man was not very keen on cleaning up his snot. He felt that by generously applying snot everywhere he could, it was his way of "marking his territory". So like any other rebellious, booger-based teen, he cut holes in the bandanna, and wore it like a mask, so he would not draw as much attention in a crowd because he was cleverly disguised. However, most people notice a four-foot tall booger complete with arms and legs walking down the street, mask or no mask.
Eventually, Mucus Man decided that there was nothing to do with his life except become a superhero, a role model for all those boys (and uncivilized girls) who pick their noses on a regular basis. So he went to the local, friendly, family-oriented tattoo parlor, and got a big "M" tattooed on his belly. Your guess is as good as mine as to how it is possible to tattoo a large booger, but that is what happened. Then he went down to apply for a job as a superhero. After taking the necessary eye exams, he became a superhero. Now he goes around making appearances at birthday parties and on the Jay Leno show, ("Wow, you're a giant booger!" - Jay) and proudly spreading his green joy (which is now illegal in most states) everywhere he goes.
The End.
Code Of Conduct
To try and ban Kleenex.
To gladly spread green joy throughout the land.
To boldly go where no snot has gone before.
I wrote this short story back in my senior year of high school. The assignment was pretty much to create a hero with his own unique background and code of conduct. So naturally, Mucus Man was born. (And I got a 49/50 on this assignment)
Mucus Man
He's faster than a speeding snot rocket! He's MUCUS MAN!!!!!!
On a breezy spring day, three years ago, The Gigantic Nose Man was taking a walk on a trail with many colorful and pollinating flowers. Unfortunately for him, his sinuses were acting up, and his gigantic nose was flowing freely. He was doing all right until he inhaled a large amount of pollen from a flower he was passing, and he let out a disgusting, slimy, dirty sneeze. That was how Mucus Man was born.
At first, The Gigantic Nose Man was utterly appalled that such an abomination came out of his nose, but after a while, he finally accepted the fact that he did create him, and that he should care for Mucus Man. Of course, the obvious setback of having a...um...thing made completely out of snot, is that everything he touches gets snotty too. The couch, the silverware, the family dog, The Gigantic Nose Man's toothbrush, the television remote, the Kleenex box, etc... The list really can go on and on. Of course, as expected, The Gigantic Nose Man was not pleased after finding snot on his toothbrush, especially since he found out after he brushed his teeth.
Because of this, Mucus Man did not have many friends or possessions. The only thing The Gigantic Nose Man gave Mucus Man was a black bandanna to clean up all the snot with. However, Mucus Man was not very keen on cleaning up his snot. He felt that by generously applying snot everywhere he could, it was his way of "marking his territory". So like any other rebellious, booger-based teen, he cut holes in the bandanna, and wore it like a mask, so he would not draw as much attention in a crowd because he was cleverly disguised. However, most people notice a four-foot tall booger complete with arms and legs walking down the street, mask or no mask.
Eventually, Mucus Man decided that there was nothing to do with his life except become a superhero, a role model for all those boys (and uncivilized girls) who pick their noses on a regular basis. So he went to the local, friendly, family-oriented tattoo parlor, and got a big "M" tattooed on his belly. Your guess is as good as mine as to how it is possible to tattoo a large booger, but that is what happened. Then he went down to apply for a job as a superhero. After taking the necessary eye exams, he became a superhero. Now he goes around making appearances at birthday parties and on the Jay Leno show, ("Wow, you're a giant booger!" - Jay) and proudly spreading his green joy (which is now illegal in most states) everywhere he goes.
The End.
Code Of Conduct
To try and ban Kleenex.
To gladly spread green joy throughout the land.
To boldly go where no snot has gone before.
Saturday, January 24, 2004
A Modest Proposal
And the first of my short stories to be blogged is...
*drumroll*
"A Modest Proposal" - I wrote this in my senior year for a homework assignment where I had to, after reading Jonathan Swift's version of "A Modest Proposal", make up my own "modest proposal". Basically, the assignment was that I had to think up something that I could write about that was so absurd that it wasn't modest or even plausibly reasonable at all. So this is what I came up with. By the way, I ended up getting a 47/50 on this assignment, with a comment from the teacher saying, "Good detailed descriptions". (If you've never read Jonathan Swift's version, it might be useful to do that since it will help you get a few of the jokes...but it isn't really necessary if you don't have access to a copy.)
"A Modest Proposal"
How many times have you been in a rush to go somewhere, and the only thing impeding you is a red light? In the modern society that we live in, we spend countless hours waiting at traffic signals. What about when you want to go straight at a signal, but you have to wait for the green arrow to change even though there is not a single person within three square miles wanting to turn left at that signal? Believe it or not, there is a very simple way to stop this from happening! I have a very reasonable and modest proposal that will solve all of these problems and more!
I propose to have every car equipped with a device that has the ability to instantly switch red lights to green with the simple push of a button. Just think of how much easier and faster it would be to have the power to change the color of a signal whenever you want to. What if you have a job that normally takes twenty minutes to get to? With the ability to change red signals to green with the press of a button, you could literally smash your driving time in half. What about when you are at one of those signals that gives a green light to the traffic perpendicular to you, but there is no traffic going that direction? Just press the button and you can be on your way!
However, due to the inevitable popularity of these devices, there will be people wanting to get a handheld version for when they have to walk to where they want to go. There is no problem with that. In fact, it would be great for kids who have to walk to school also. When they reach a red light, they can just press the button of their handy-dandy signal switcher, and they can be on their way to school unobstructed by red lights. In fact, why not make one specifically designed to fit on the handlebars of a bike so that when bikers get to a red light, they can simply reach to the middle of the handlebars, press the button, and continue on without having to get off their bike and press the "walk" button.
As a matter of fact, since people are going to be constantly pressing that little button to turn red lights to green, why not make it infinitely easier? Remove all the stoplights in the entire world! Then people can commute in peace, unhindered by signals, free to go at their own pace. Well, maybe that is taking it just a little bit too far...
Unfortunately, there are a few small problems with my wonderful yet modest proposal. First of all, since there are about thirty billion people in the world, minus the approximately sixty thousand infants and around ten thousand disabled and senior citizens who never go out of their house anyway, there would have to be about seven hundred and fifty million of these devices made. Plus you must take into consideration the number of devices that will be potentially broken, lost or stolen, and that number should be around two thousand annually. Also you must consider that all these devices have to be shipped to all the people who order them, and that the shipping and handling costs by themselves would be around six million dollars, unless people order them by air mail, which would make the price fly up to seven and a half million dollars. Then you have your certain individuals who absolutely, positively must have their device delivered overnight. That would make the cost soar up to around ten million dollars for just the shipping and handling. Then you have the price of the devices themselves. Considering that they need to be relatively small to fit on a bike or the palm of your hand, they will probably be rather expensive. I would imagine that they would cost approximately eleven hundred dollars each, which is a small price to pay considering how much happiness you will receive by being able to turn red lights to green. (Disclaimer: The amount of happiness gained by these devices may vary. Actual happiness can be bought at your local Costco store for a low low price of only $3.75 a pound.)
Of course, there is one other slight problem with giving commuters power over when red lights are green, and when green lights are red. I would imagine that many drivers, bikers, and pedestrians would end up occupying the same space at the same time, which would make for a rather nasty development. Also, if you let people change the lights whenever they want and go when they please, they would end up getting used to having the right to do what they want, and I am sure that a few members of our government would have a problem with giving the people too much authority to do what they want. If the government had their way, they would make everyone sign a form at every intersection promising that they will not go until the light turns green, and that they will proceed until the next red light, at which time they will stop, and fill out another form of the same nature. If for some reason there are no forms to fill out at a signal, they must wait 6-8 weeks in their car for the post office to deliver a replacement form. How's that for a modest proposal?
*drumroll*
"A Modest Proposal" - I wrote this in my senior year for a homework assignment where I had to, after reading Jonathan Swift's version of "A Modest Proposal", make up my own "modest proposal". Basically, the assignment was that I had to think up something that I could write about that was so absurd that it wasn't modest or even plausibly reasonable at all. So this is what I came up with. By the way, I ended up getting a 47/50 on this assignment, with a comment from the teacher saying, "Good detailed descriptions". (If you've never read Jonathan Swift's version, it might be useful to do that since it will help you get a few of the jokes...but it isn't really necessary if you don't have access to a copy.)
"A Modest Proposal"
How many times have you been in a rush to go somewhere, and the only thing impeding you is a red light? In the modern society that we live in, we spend countless hours waiting at traffic signals. What about when you want to go straight at a signal, but you have to wait for the green arrow to change even though there is not a single person within three square miles wanting to turn left at that signal? Believe it or not, there is a very simple way to stop this from happening! I have a very reasonable and modest proposal that will solve all of these problems and more!
I propose to have every car equipped with a device that has the ability to instantly switch red lights to green with the simple push of a button. Just think of how much easier and faster it would be to have the power to change the color of a signal whenever you want to. What if you have a job that normally takes twenty minutes to get to? With the ability to change red signals to green with the press of a button, you could literally smash your driving time in half. What about when you are at one of those signals that gives a green light to the traffic perpendicular to you, but there is no traffic going that direction? Just press the button and you can be on your way!
However, due to the inevitable popularity of these devices, there will be people wanting to get a handheld version for when they have to walk to where they want to go. There is no problem with that. In fact, it would be great for kids who have to walk to school also. When they reach a red light, they can just press the button of their handy-dandy signal switcher, and they can be on their way to school unobstructed by red lights. In fact, why not make one specifically designed to fit on the handlebars of a bike so that when bikers get to a red light, they can simply reach to the middle of the handlebars, press the button, and continue on without having to get off their bike and press the "walk" button.
As a matter of fact, since people are going to be constantly pressing that little button to turn red lights to green, why not make it infinitely easier? Remove all the stoplights in the entire world! Then people can commute in peace, unhindered by signals, free to go at their own pace. Well, maybe that is taking it just a little bit too far...
Unfortunately, there are a few small problems with my wonderful yet modest proposal. First of all, since there are about thirty billion people in the world, minus the approximately sixty thousand infants and around ten thousand disabled and senior citizens who never go out of their house anyway, there would have to be about seven hundred and fifty million of these devices made. Plus you must take into consideration the number of devices that will be potentially broken, lost or stolen, and that number should be around two thousand annually. Also you must consider that all these devices have to be shipped to all the people who order them, and that the shipping and handling costs by themselves would be around six million dollars, unless people order them by air mail, which would make the price fly up to seven and a half million dollars. Then you have your certain individuals who absolutely, positively must have their device delivered overnight. That would make the cost soar up to around ten million dollars for just the shipping and handling. Then you have the price of the devices themselves. Considering that they need to be relatively small to fit on a bike or the palm of your hand, they will probably be rather expensive. I would imagine that they would cost approximately eleven hundred dollars each, which is a small price to pay considering how much happiness you will receive by being able to turn red lights to green. (Disclaimer: The amount of happiness gained by these devices may vary. Actual happiness can be bought at your local Costco store for a low low price of only $3.75 a pound.)
Of course, there is one other slight problem with giving commuters power over when red lights are green, and when green lights are red. I would imagine that many drivers, bikers, and pedestrians would end up occupying the same space at the same time, which would make for a rather nasty development. Also, if you let people change the lights whenever they want and go when they please, they would end up getting used to having the right to do what they want, and I am sure that a few members of our government would have a problem with giving the people too much authority to do what they want. If the government had their way, they would make everyone sign a form at every intersection promising that they will not go until the light turns green, and that they will proceed until the next red light, at which time they will stop, and fill out another form of the same nature. If for some reason there are no forms to fill out at a signal, they must wait 6-8 weeks in their car for the post office to deliver a replacement form. How's that for a modest proposal?
Friday, January 23, 2004
One small blog for man, one giant leap for blogkind.
Hey, what do you know? It actually worked!
First, a little about me for those people who don't know me. I'm 7'4'', I weigh 400 lbs. and I have a dog named Fluffy. Oh wait. That was before the liposuction.
My name is Sean, I am 19 years old, 6'0'', and I weigh around 145 lbs. depending on the type of scale, the time of day, the position of the moon, and how tight my shoes are tied. I live in California and am attending college, though I'm still on my Christmas vacation...in the middle of January. Plus, I have a turtle named Floyd. Really.
Well, my first blog. Pretty exciting stuff. I think that's the first time I've ever typed out the word "blog" before too. It's such a momentous step in my life. I feel as if I've joined an elite group of people: People who can actually call themselves bloggers without breaking into a fit of laughter from how silly the word "blog" sounds.
To me, it sounds like some pathetic creature that was absent on the day Adam named all the animals on Earth, and therefore received the most ridiculous name that Adam could think of, like the Titmouse or the Aardvark or Godzilla or Shaquille O'Neal. Hahaha, Shaquille. Adam must have been on a roll that day.
Either that or it sounds like the name of an ancient caveman of less than average intelligence...
Blog's Wife: "Blog!! Did you wipe your feet before you came in the cave? You got mud all over the dirt! And we have company coming over tonight. Blarg and Blug will be here any minute..."
Blog: "Blog sorry. Blog step in doo-doo."
But back to blogging. Yes, now I am a member of that elite group of people. Now, when people ask me, "Do you Blog?", I can answer them proudly saying, "Huh?"
What can you expect from my future blogs? Only time can tell. One thing is for sure though. I will be publishing my various funny/satirical essays, fables, and short stories that I have written for school assignments over the past few years on here for everyone to read that hasn't already. Also, any new stuff that I write in the upcoming semester (English 101) or in my spare time that is deemed worthy to become blogged will be added. Or just whatever funny things pop into my head or occur during my waking hours. I hope that everyone who reads what I post on this site will walk away with a laugh or two and hopefully I will brighten someone's day just a little.
First, a little about me for those people who don't know me. I'm 7'4'', I weigh 400 lbs. and I have a dog named Fluffy. Oh wait. That was before the liposuction.
My name is Sean, I am 19 years old, 6'0'', and I weigh around 145 lbs. depending on the type of scale, the time of day, the position of the moon, and how tight my shoes are tied. I live in California and am attending college, though I'm still on my Christmas vacation...in the middle of January. Plus, I have a turtle named Floyd. Really.
Well, my first blog. Pretty exciting stuff. I think that's the first time I've ever typed out the word "blog" before too. It's such a momentous step in my life. I feel as if I've joined an elite group of people: People who can actually call themselves bloggers without breaking into a fit of laughter from how silly the word "blog" sounds.
To me, it sounds like some pathetic creature that was absent on the day Adam named all the animals on Earth, and therefore received the most ridiculous name that Adam could think of, like the Titmouse or the Aardvark or Godzilla or Shaquille O'Neal. Hahaha, Shaquille. Adam must have been on a roll that day.
Either that or it sounds like the name of an ancient caveman of less than average intelligence...
Blog's Wife: "Blog!! Did you wipe your feet before you came in the cave? You got mud all over the dirt! And we have company coming over tonight. Blarg and Blug will be here any minute..."
Blog: "Blog sorry. Blog step in doo-doo."
But back to blogging. Yes, now I am a member of that elite group of people. Now, when people ask me, "Do you Blog?", I can answer them proudly saying, "Huh?"
What can you expect from my future blogs? Only time can tell. One thing is for sure though. I will be publishing my various funny/satirical essays, fables, and short stories that I have written for school assignments over the past few years on here for everyone to read that hasn't already. Also, any new stuff that I write in the upcoming semester (English 101) or in my spare time that is deemed worthy to become blogged will be added. Or just whatever funny things pop into my head or occur during my waking hours. I hope that everyone who reads what I post on this site will walk away with a laugh or two and hopefully I will brighten someone's day just a little.
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