The Wall

He didn't see me watching, and I hoped that he wouldn't. Maybe that would be all it would take, him thinking he was alone. For he was standing in front of a brick wall that he had no business being in front of, dressed in clothes he had no business wearing. I desperately wanted him to tap a few bricks, walk through the wall, and not come out the other side, but alas, today he did not. Shame, it would have been neat to have followed him.

Laughter

If laughter is the best medicine,as they say, then he would be the healthiest of them all. He laughs at everything...

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...good, and you ha ha ha."

"Do you have a minute?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...I guess, ha ha ha.

"What are you doing for lunch?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...I'm just staying in, ha ha ha.

...for no apparent reason, as if everything were a private joke that only he understood. At first it is fine, but after 6 months, and he can't say anything without laughing, and he sits behind you, and every time you hear him laugh you make mocking faces at your computer screen, and write things about him on your notepad, and he laughs at everyone else too, and then it gets to a point that you are manic, that you can see yourself laughing as you punch him in the face, and all he does is laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and...ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.


Maybe it's you who has the problem.

Bend Your Ear

If you only knew...you would know why this is noteworthy.

Wedding

My good friend Brad got married this past weekend. It was a really great time, and I got to see some people that I surely don't get to see enough. One friend's dad took a few pictures that I thought turned out really well.

Pictures

The Horse In Motion

To Whom it May Concern:

There you have it. All four of Occident's feet off the ground. Pay up sucka.

Sincerely,
Leland Stanford

Here Comes The Bride

Another Chance

This weekend, I made a third attempt to see the movie Blade Runner.  My wife has made it clear that she has no interest, and I don't blame her, so I've been trying to find a suitable time to watch it.  My first attempt was obviously way too late for this post-collegiate-turned-father as I fell asleep halfway through.  My second attempt was stifled, literally, as I was couldn't hear what was happening due to noise restriction (didn't want to wake the wife).  This past weekend however, I found success.  Amanda was gone, Garrett was asleep, and so I put in Blade Runner for the third time.  It was worth the wait.    It was science fiction at it's best, and I'm actually glad I have waited this long to see it.  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have liked it in college, and have no doubt that I would have hated it in high school.  But now, there was something about it that was very captivating to me as an adult.  It really reached me emotionally, and blew my mind intellectually.  Love, love, love this movie.      If only you could see what I've seen with your eyes. --Roy, from Blade Runner

Torture

Forget waterboarding...
I walked into Gella's Diner in Hays, KS yesterday only to be instantly engulfed in a wonderfully familiar smell. It wasn't the food though, it was something different wafting in from the back. It didn't even take a second for me to identify it, freshly milled malted barley. Somewhere...they were making beer. I asked to be seated in the brewery section to investigate further. Upon being seated, my suspicions were confirmed. Two guys in the back were busily dumping barley and hops into a boil and creating that wonderful wort. The smell was unmistakable and intoxicating. I looked down the beer list that was so familiar to me, noticed the banners hanging on the wall: GABF Silver medal, Bronze medal, Silver medal, Gold medal, etc., and tried to hold back my enthusiasm. I scoured the menu and spotted the obnoxiously decadent Spicy Redneck, and my mouth began to water. This was going to be great.

However, the waitress came around and I was roused from my fantasy. "I'll have a water and the Brewben sandwich," were the words uttered chokingly out of my mouth. My boss sitting beside me said, "I'll have the same." Pure torture.

Damn the electric fence...

Fun at Work 2

Nothing like a nice lineup of switchgear to make work a little more artistic...just a little.

Not a Rant

I hate to do this, because I swore I was done with it, but if you'll allow me one small minute to point out an...observation. This is not a rant, but a mere suggestion to any restaurateurs out there. I took my wife out for dinner the other night for our anniversary to what I might consider to be one of the nicer restaurants in Wichita. Upon receiving our menus, I began perusing the drink selections. Two whole pages devoted to wine by the bottle and by the glass were sectioned off into red and white, and further partitioned into nice neat categories of Merlot, Cabernet, Pinot Grigio, etc. Then, in the bottom right hand corner, a space reserved for the apparent "step child" of imbibments, was the beer.

Surprised? No, I wasn't. I expected it. So I was able to move on at that point. What amused me was the two categories of beer listed, Imported and Domestic. Looking down the domestic list, I saw the typical macros, Bud, Coors, Miller. What was laughable were the beers listed as Imported. Fat Tire? Since when have we imported Fat Tire all the way from Colorado? How about Samuel Adams from Boston (a quick aside: that's how they had listed it, "Samuel Adams," as if they didn't have a million beers to choose from), is that "imported"? And Shiner Bock? I'm pretty sure Texas is part of the Union now. Where did they come up with this list?

Apparently I'm hard to please when it come to my beverage of choice. Don't get me wrong, I'm not discounting wine. I do love wine very much. However, once, just once, I would love to open a menu and have two full pages devoted to beer by the bottle and by the (proper) glass that were sectioned off into ales and lagers, and further partitioned into nice neat categories of Pale, Hefeweizen, Porter, etc. Then I would love to hear my waiter say, "India Pale Ale? That will go great with your chicken curry, excellent choice, sir." If anyone knows of such a place, please let me know. Until then, I'll just have to stick to drinking the "imported" stuff. Because everyone knows that if it's not fizzy and yellow, it must not come from here.