In Which a Day Burns Out

You know a good way to waste a perfectly usable Sunday afternoon? Go to the stupid ER because you're stupid worried you might be dying because your stupid heart is beating erratically and super-fast and you're all dizzy and sweating like a sieve (does that even make sense?) and then not too long after they admit you, it kinda goes away and it turns out you probably just drank to much stupid caffeine but you have to sit there and talk to them and say "no, I don't snort cocaine" and they take stupid blood out of your stupid arm and then put stupid saline into your stupid arm and then they finally let you go home but not until after you wasted 3 stupid hours of your stupid life.

Not that I would know.

Transcontinental Concerns

So, right now, on the other side of the continent, my grandmother is having brain surgery. It's weird. I talked to her last night and there's a chance that it was the last time I'll talk to her as her. Or maybe it's no big deal, and she'll be fine. They'll get the tumor out of her brain, it won't be malignant and she'll go right back to being the same grandmother I've always known, I don't know. I guess I'll find out later.

I hope she has a good doctor....


Anyway. Here's a random picture.


HA HA! It's not a RANDOM picture at all! That's what they're doing to my grandma right now! GOTCHA!!!

And no, I'm not putting the dog in that one.

Dispatch from the Metro: Orange Line Art Edition

What a privilege it is to ride the Orange Line everyday from the far reaches of Virginia (don't worry, it's not REAL Virginia, I'm not that far out)! Nearly every day I get to experience one of the greatest pieces of art ever created. Actually, I'd say that I get to hear it many times per trip as the train rolls from station to station. You might be thinking to yourself "Self, what art can exist in such a cramped and utilitarian place?" Or you might be thinking to yourself "Self, it's almost time to eat lunch, isn't it?" Or even perhaps "Self, I can't wait until summer when fresh corn on the cob sells for, like, $2 per dozen!"

All you need to do is listen.

It's beautiful.

Picture PLUS

Since she seems to be so much in demand, here is probably my favorite picture of my new daughter and her big brother.




FYI: If you need even more pictures of her, just go to adahpascale.blogspot.com for this one, and many others.


Speaking of sons and daughters, it’s kind of intimidating being a father of both. I mean, let’s face it; I’m pretty much just winging it. I grew up as an American Boy (obvs) so I at least have a child’s understanding of what that was like coupled with an adult (I hope) perspective on it. This means that I’m aware of some of the benefits of growing up white, male and at least middle class in the US, and the Levi will have pretty much the same advantages. However, I’m also aware, as a parent, of the difficulties that face little boys growing up. You know, the old culture of toughness stuff, competitiveness, smug sarcasm as a defense mechanism (just me???), requisite dismissal of emotion, &c. I don’t mean to be dismissive of those problems, though, because even though they are hackneyed and clichéd, they are still real. Then there’s the added problem of schooling, but that’s another post. (actually probably not).



But girls? That’s another story. All I have are first-hand accounts of what it is like growing up as a girl, and I find those so outlandishly terrifying that it’s hard to believe they are real. But my sources are all intelligent, honest women, so I’m quite scared for my daughter, since I have no choice but to believe them. Unfortunately (and typically, I expect), as a child I was aware primarily of my own situation and experience and not really at all concerned with anybody else. For example, I know almost nothing of what my own sister went through in high school because I just didn’t pay attention.



Uh, anyway, I am sort of departing from my train of thought here (I hear that’s common for parents of newborns) so I’ll just say: It’s scary being the father of a daughter and thank God I’m married to a brilliant, kind, observant, understanding woman who is comfortable (usually) in her own skin. If my daughter can grow up to be a woman like her, I’ll be very happy.

Happy Belated Birthday

Hey everybody, I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I've been real busy lately, you know, doing stuff, having babies...

Speaking of having babies here's my new daughter, Adah Pascale, born yesterday at 3:38PM. 6lbs, 13oz of healthy baby girl.

So it goes.

This is What The Internet Sounds Like

Probably NSFW.

Like the internet.

http://coworkthailand.com/say/

Just This Thing

The Top 14 Albums of 2008 (That I happened to download, purchase or otherwise hear)

1. Dr. Dog – Fate
   In many respects, this album was a watershed moment for bands with the word “Dog” in their names. Not since Three Dog Night were in their heyday has a “Dog” banded sounded…well, so much like Three Dog Night. Not that that is a bad thing.
   
   Rating: A Sheepdog with a Brandy Barrel around its neck so you can make some eggnog when it comes to rescue from a vile mountainside retreat in the Andes.
   
   
2. Vampire Weekend – Vampire Weekend
   It sounds like these white-shoe yupsters got kicked in the face by Paul Simon and then accidentally the whole African musical colonialism. Not that that is a bad thing. Any band that calls Bottleneck a “shitshow” is alright in my book. I hate those Bottleneck bastards.
   
   Rating: A werewolf weekday
   
   
3. Okkervil River – The Stand Ins
   Even better than their 2007 masterpiece The Stage Names. Not that that is a bad thing. Probably my favorite of any of the albums in this list.
   
   Rating: Some outsider art by an artist who arguably kidnapped a kid
   
   
4. Coldplay – Viva La Vida
   SMASH HIT 2008!! NUMBER 1 SUMMER JAM!!! Under investigation by the FBI for allegedly stealing tunes from The Creaky Boards and/or J. Satriani. Not that that is a bad thing.
   
   Rating: Dude, I just listen for the articles. I mean the production values. I don’t actually LIKE it, you know.
   
   
5. Of Montreal – Skeletal Lamping
   I haven’t quite listened to the whole thing, but I can tell you without a doubt that it is the best concept album about a large, black, post-op transsexual in history. Also, Emusic? Yeah, about that claim that Of Montreal is similar to Neutral Milk Hotel? I think it only holds true if “similar” means that the guys in the bands know each other and they both have a word that starts with “M” in their band names.
   
   Rating: 185 bones out of a full skeleton
   
   
6. The Secret Machines – The Secret Machines
   It’s got a kick-drum that won’t quit. Also there’s a pretty good, albeit short, total freakout on track 6.
   
   Rating: A machine that’s not exactly secret, just not well understood by most people, like an internal compression ignition combustion engine or something.
   
   
7. Frightened Rabbit – The Midnight Organ Fight
   a. Pretty standard indie rock fare. I like when a song from this album comes up on random for whatever that’s worth.
   
   Rating: A+, if you like Scottish accents, Gefilte fish+ if you don’t.
   
   
8. Port O’Brien – All We Could Do Was Sing
   I’ll be perfectly honest here: it’s really not that good. The first song and Pigeonhold are the best songs, so I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.
   
   Rating: Two nautical themed songs too many.
   
   
9. The Rural Alberta Advantage – Hometowns
   Eh, it’s not bad. It’s nothing to write home to Alberta about, but I’ll still listen to it. However, the song Luciana totally needs to be remastered so that it’s listenable. Also, the Distillers song called Drain the Blood is better than TRAA’s song of the same name.
   
   Rating: Saskatchewan and Nova Scotia PUT TOGETHER!
   
   
10. Shearwater – Rook
    Slow, relatively dull with way too much vibrato in the vocals. What else can I say, you know? Hm....the occasional glockenspiel is both soothing and soporific, if you’re into that sort of thing.
    
    Rating: > pawn, < bishop
    
    
11. Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago
    I don’t know if the story behind the recording of this record makes it better or worse than it actually is (something about a Wisconsin cabin in the middle of winter and ice fishing). Regardless of the story, it’s a pretty good album, but if you get a chance to see him (I think his name is Justin something) live, it’s totally way better. Also, Bon Jovi fans: DO NOT get your hopes up. Even though the names are similar, the music is not.
    
    Rating: A Bucket of ice-fish tacos.
    
    
12. Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes
    I’m just listening to it right now, but I can tell from the cover and from the stuff other people have written about it that I’ll like it. I’m pretty predictable. I DO like the first five tracks at least.
    
    Rating: 8 out of 10 canine species.
    
    
13. She & Him – Volume 1
    I got it in the mail yesterday. I’ll let you know.
    
    Rating: ALBUM OF THE YEAR ACCORDING TO PASTE MAGAZINE!!!!!!
    
    
14. My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges
    Don't worry about the album name, it doesn't sound nearly that evil. What it does sound is AWESOME. I appreciate good musicianship. Especially when good musicians rock so hard and are not boring. This doesn't happen often.
    
    Rating: Evel Knievel Urges
    

Full Disclosure: There are exactly zero (0) albums released in 2008 that I own that do not also appear on the list above.


POST-POST BONUS ALBUM: CHINESE F'N DEMOCRACY - G 'N' F'N R!!!


UPDATE: I would like to deny all rumors that I voted in the NPR listeners' poll for best albums of the year. It just LOOKS like I did. Hell, I don't even listen to NPR.

Fifteen Four and A Double Run for a Doz

You totally won't believe this, well, maybe you will, but I totally played in my first ACC-sanctioned cribbage tournament last weekend. I got worked over like a iron horse shoe on a blacksmith's anvil. I went 8-14 with 17 points and 1 skunk. But I was about two standard deviations outside the mean in terms of age, senility and probably incontinence, so I had that going for me.


I'm going to try again in September and I'll let you know how it goes.


It will go exactly the same only hopefully with some more beers to calm my nerves.

The Miracle of Flight

The other day I was just doing my usual thing, you know, driving home from work when I saw something that literally made me fall out my chair. Well, not literally, but figuratively literally. I couldn't literally fall out of my chair because there was a door to my left and a stick shifter control knob thingy to my right. But anyway, I figuratively literally fell out of my chair because I saw this dude just walking along on the side of the road! By the Buffalo Wild Wings at 26 and the Van Dyke Expressway! Who does that??? I almost rolled down my window and asked him if he needed a ride. I didn't though, because it was pretty cold out there and nice and warm inside my car. I didn't want to let the warm out. Global warming is bad enough as it is.

Sixteen Tons, and What Do You Get?

So, I was reading this book the other day. It was pretty good.

Then, after I finished reading the book, I listened to a new CD. It was pretty good, too. Then I listened to it again and it was a little better.

After that, I went to work. It was pretty good.

After I got home from work, I went to some store or another. I was pretty good. Not as good as NOT going to the store, but better than eating a shit sandwich.

Then I started finishing another book. It was pretty good in a different way from the other book that I finished.

Then I went to work again.

Look Out Your Window, I'm On Your Street

Remember when I used to have a thought of the day on here?

This should have been one.



toothpastefordinner.com

I've Always Told Lies For Love

The other day, actually yesterday I think, my son told his first ever approximately correct joke. It went like this...

Person Telling The Joke (PTtJ): Knock Knock
Person Not Telling the Joke (PNTtJ): Who's there?
PTtJ: Popcorn!
PNTtJ: Popcorn who?
PTtJ: Popcorn Chicken!

Granted, it's not very funny but it's way better than what he usually does, which goes something like this...

PTtJ: Knock knock!
PNTtJ: Who's There?
PTtJ: Jiffy Pop Train to pick up a dog at the station!
PNTtJ: Jiffy Pop Train to pick up a dog at the station, who?
PTtJ: I screwed it up!!!

And now that that's out of the way, how was your weekend? Uh huh, uh huh. You're kidding! No, he couldn't have! OMG. Yeah, the weather was nice around here, a little cold at night, but I think my tomato plants survived. Yep, still going good, I've got more basil than I can shake a stick at. Well, half a stick anyway. They are doing fine. The little one is a little sick today, so he stayed home from school. Yeah, well say hi to them for me. Okay. See you later!

I'd say 75% of my interactions with other people are like that. The rest can be tabulated below:

5%: Conversations with my office-mate (an actual person, not inanimate office supplies that I talk to. Don't worry) about how screwed the world is that rapidly veer off course to conspiracy theories that he want to convince me of, many of which are proponentated by David Icke (follow the link, I dare you).

3%: Sports-related conversations in which I try to feign non-ignorance. I typically try to check some scores before coming to work on Monday during football season so I can sound normal. "Whoa, lot of overtime games yesterday huh?" See? It works.

7%: Discussions with my son about what he did at school, whether or not something is cool, what he wants for his birthday, what he did 2 years ago that he appears to actually remember somehow, and jokes (see above).

10%: Discussion with my wife about, literally, any subject imaginable. Once we discussed our mutual interest in a scientific paper on how many bullets it would take to kill a cow based on caliber, shot location, muzzle velocity and firing distance. That's probably one of the more straight forward conversations that we've had. ***Update: I'd just like to confirm that this conversation was purely hypothetical.***

ca. 0%: TV, because I've finally been able to become, as has been a lifelong dream, one of those annoying people that everybody hates who, whenever somebody starts to talk about some TV show or other, says "Oh, I don't even own a TV." Well, that's a slight lie. I do own a TV, but we can't afford cable and we only get one fuzzy channel (ABC, I think) so I'm kind of one of those people by default. But still, I can check that one off my lifetime "To Do" list.

More Coffee For Me Boss, Cuz I'm Not As Messed Up As I Want to Be

Thank you for all joining me here today. I know that I am usually only active clandestinely and that my audience with His Majesty has now fallen on hard times, but I have a very important topic with which to discuss with you at some point in time should you ever read this missive: Truth.

Many people are under the impression that Truth is a universal absolute, that there is one true way that events happen that can be firmly documented and agreed upon by those willing to embrace it. By embracing this vision of Truth, one has the advantage that one gets to feel smugly superior and/or (usually and) pontificatory about it. Making Truth an absolute, unarguable standard means that one must also go to absolute, unarguable lengths to defend it. Some have even gone as far as to argue (often on the internet) over it, which is odd if they believe the Truth to be unarguable. Those extreme lengths are horrifying in their breadth and depth.

Other people, on the other hand, believe that truth is nothing more than a story that someone tells to make themselves feel better about the absolute disaster that this universe unarguably is. This belief would imply that any given person's truth is just as true as Ignatius Riley's truth is true. For some this is hard to accept.

However, a deeper investigation of "Truth" reveals that both camps are not only a little bit wrong, but a lot of bit wrong.

You see, Truth is an anagram for thurt. Wait. No, that's not what I meant. What is important is that "Truth" is an anagram of "Ruth T." This is an unarguably obvious reference to Ruth T. McGrorey, former professor in and Dean of the State University of New York at Buffalo's School of Nursing. Some of McGrorey's most notable work was while working as a Consultant in Nursing for the Paraguay Project (University Archives collection 19/1/708). This project was initiated by the US State Department Project to provide the National University at Asuncion with UB's health sciences expertise. A three-year contract was signed between the Health Servicio of Paraguay and UB in 1956 and renewed continuously until 1971. The contract set up an exchange whereby Paraguayan doctors were sent to study at UB and two Buffalo faculty members, in addition to short-term consultants were sent Paraguay. While in Paraguay McGrorey helped to develop a Nursing School at Asuncion. McGrorey also implemented many changes nationally, helping to bring Paraguayan nursing and medical standards on par with North American standards. In 1962, Asuncion honored McGrorey with the Distinguished Visiting Professor title and in 1969 an honorary doctorate.

So the truth of the matter, or should I say that the Ruth T. of the matter is that everything we think of as truth, whether you are of the arguably unarguable school of truthspeak the unarguably unarticulated vague school of thinking, is actually just a reflection of the efforts of one mid-twentieth century nurse who went to Paraguay and probably started several underground socialist movements that are still in existence today known as the Paraguayan Socialist Nursing Liberation Faction of the International Sisterhood of Paraguayan Nurses. They have been known, from time to time, to carry out shadowy terrorist actions at the behest of the overlord of the underworld, Eudora Welty.

Why Do I Even Bother?

So, we've got family visiting this week. Five of them. Five is a big number. It's more than the number of quarters in a dollar. It's more than the number of quarts in a gallon. Basically, it's more than almost anything with "quart" in the word. Okay, okay, only three of them are staying with us in our 1 bedroom apartment, but still.

Anyway, our guests have been using our upstairs "guest" bathroom for all bathroom-related activities. We use that bathroom primarily for numbers 1 and 2 and not for tooth brushing or hair drying. Our guests, however, do use it for those purposes. Combine that with a shoddy wiring job on the outlet and what do you get? Flames shooting out of the outlet, that's what. Apparently my last attempt to fix the problem (solution = cover everything with electrical tape and hope that fixes the short) didn't take and apparently electrical tape is inflammable.

So yesterday afternoon I decided I should probably try another fix. First, I removed all the old tape and found a loose wire sticking out of the "hot" terminal. So, I removed the whole outlet mechanism to work on it. Of course, the whole time I'm working on it, my son is in there with me watching me. Here are a few things he said that make me remember that I'm utterly hopeless.

"What are you fixing, Daddy?"

"Daddy said "GRRRRRRR"

"Daddy are you fustyrated?"

"No, Mommy is supposed to do it." In response to me saying I was trying to fix the outlet.

Maybe next time I should just accept my lack of any practical knowledge and hire a dang electrician. Or have Mommy do it.

List Tuesday: I am Not Hungry Anymore

Here is a fun time. This is a fun time. Don't we all like a fun time?



The Top Five Combinations of Things You Can Buy From the McDonald's Dollar Menu for Five Dollars or Fewer.

5. 1 McChicken, 1 Double Cheeseburger, 1 small fry.

4. 1 Sundae, 1 McChicken.

3. 2 McChickens, 3 Small Frys.

2. 1 Ice cream cone.

1. 10 pies.



Things About Which You Do Not Care

1. There are seven pieces of scotch tape stuck to my desk right now.


2. Christus Victor is a theory of.......ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ


3. One time, my friend drank 3 liters of pop and then puked all over my bathroom.


4. A puss catepillar is poisonous.


5. The largest elephant on record was shot in Angola in 1974 and weighed as much as 3 billion ants.


6. Today is the MLB All-Star Game


7. With an apple a day, after three days you could juggle the apples.


8. You get bonus points if you can eat the apples while juggling them


9. This is harder than it looks


10. If you were just a couple inches taller, maybe you could dunk.


11. To an ant, a stack of a million dollar bills is larger than the universe.


12. e^(pi*i)+1 = 0


13. Now there are nine pieces of scotch tape on my desk


14. The transition from laminar to turbulent flow occurs around a Reynold's number or 2300


15. I used to read Star Wars novels.


16. Whenever a door shuts, a window opens.


17. The above is not true.


18. Nor is it clever


19. Of all the people in the world, why me?


20. Why. Me.


21. Did I tell you about that time I saw a truck's wheel fall off on the freeway?


22. No?


23. It was cool to the max.


24. It has been 800 years since Genghis Khan rose to power in Mongolia.


25. 32 oz. pops from AM/PM used to be called "Thirsty-twos." Maybe they still are


26. Every second, more than 10 cars catch fire due to global warming.

Listependance Tuesday

This will be phenomenal. Really. You are phenomenal.


Things My Son Said To Me Today When He Wanted To Draw on Our White Board

1. I want to color!


2. I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT. Please?


3. I WAAAAAAAAAAANT IT!


4. I want to color, daddy!


5. AAAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAAA


6. It's my turn, daddy!

Bills I Paid Today

1. Mortgage


2. Condominium Fee


3. Cell Phone


4. Paxton


5. Mr.

On Last Night's Baseball Game (See more tomorrow)

1. Teams Playing: Washington Nationals and Florida Marlins


2. Cost of tickets: $7 each


3. Cost of tickets with service charges and fees: $12.50 each


4. Seat Section: 532


5. Reason for attending: Deadspin field trip


6. Number of Deadspin readers and/or writers talked to: 0


7. Number of home runs hit by Soriano: 2?


8. Number of complete at-bats I watched: <5


9. Walks taken with aforementioned son: 2


10. Innings pitched: 5


11. Should you take the metro to the game: No


12. Opinion on naked babies: Neutral to negative


13. Best thing on concession menu: Cheese Cup ($1.00)


14. Beers that count as "Premium": Corona, Heineken.


15. Attendance: 100<, <1,000,000


16. Winner of the President Race: Lincoln, oh yeah!

Every day at lunch....Scratch that. Every day that I go out for lunch (more often than strictly necessary) I sometimes take the metro. Actually, I really only do that if I'm going to meet the Brickfam somewhere for lunch (usually CalTort which runs tasty, messy circles around Chipataplay if you want my opinion (and why else would you be here? (are you ready for this: triple parenthesis!))). But every time I do ride the Metro, I walk by a guy selling Street Sense. I almost never carry cash, which means I almost never buy Street Sense, which can lead to the vendor looking at me and saying things that I just have to ignore. Like, once, he said "Oh, you graduate from college and you go all Wall Street on us?" I think he was trying to say that I should give something back. I know I should, but can he take credit cards? No? Shoot. And then, every time I'm at lunch with the brickwife, I intend to ask her for a dollar so I can buy a copy on my way back, but I always forget.

All this to say that last Friday I did have some cash on me so I bought a copy. And since I was in a good mood, I chatted with the vendor a little. He introduced himself (I don't remember his name) and said he was the house photographer and asked if he could take a picture of me for their Cheerful Givers piece. I said sure, and then a reasonable facsimile of the following conversation took place.

Me: That's a nice camera you've got there! (Speaking of his Nikon D-SLR)

Street Sense Guy: Yep, digital, cost two grand.

Me: Wow, pretty pricey. Out of my price range at least.

SSG: But now I don't have to pay for a whole roll of prints, just twenty-nine cents each! I been takin' pictures since about '70, but I just went digital last year. I was all used to cropping and dodging and that s---, but now I don't got to do none of that.

[aside: if you don't know, "dodging is the practice of, well, dodging your hand in and out of the projector/print maker thing in order to lessen the exposure on certain parts of the print. Just goes to show, I've learned more of practical use from one High School photography course than from all of my high school science classes. Oh, wait. That's not true. In physics I learned about audible beats in slightly different frequency sounds which is very useful when it comes to tuning a guitar.]

Me: It must be pretty convenient for you since you take so many pictures for the paper.

SSG: Yep, now I don't have to worry about getting 36 pictures that are all no good. But it's bad news for the little mom-and-pop developers. They aren't gettin' much bidness any more.

Me: Yeah, too bad. Do you like the camera though?

SSG: It's great man. Cost about two grand.

Me: (thinking that I'm pretty sure he already said this) Wow!

SSG: About two years ago I was crossing the street when this woman waiting for me to cross yells at me "Move it you slow motherf****r!" So I looked at her and said "You dumb black b****, I got the right of way, so you just better wait." (ed. just so you know the vendor was African-American, so he wasn't racist, just a little crude) And then she yells back at me that she doesn't care and she'll run over my a**. So I said "Kiss my sphincter!" She didn't know what I was talking about, so I look at her and say "You dumb black b****! The sphincter is the muscle that controls your a******!" You should have seen the look on her face! And then she steps on the gas and runs me over! Felony hit-and-run! Then this other woman who saw the whole thing says to me "I can't believe she cussed you out and then ran over you!" I made sure to get her license plate number. I ended up getting a three thousand dollar settlement, and I spent two on this camera!

Me: Um, I gotta go meet my wife for lunch, okay?

So we shook hands, I walked down into Metro Center, and that was that. Just goes to show: if you want an interesting conversation, talk to the Street Sense guys.

By the way, does every city have a homeless newspaper? I know that Seattle does. Here's a shout out to anyone who shopped at the Roosevelt Ave Safeway in the U-District back in the day (so, basically just me and the brickwife among all those who read this)...

"Real Change? Have a great day ma'am. Have a great day, sir."

An Offer I Can Refuse

Warning: The following story is true, but may be a little blue for my younger readers (are there any?). Don't say I didn't warn you.




Harken back, if you will, to late January, 2003. The brickwife and I had just moved to Moses Lake, WA so I could start my first real after-college job. We were young, childless (though potentially pregnant at the time, I'm not sure), and carefree. In order to properly furnish our new apartment, we decided that we'd probably better have a couch and a dining room table. To that end, we spent the weekend in Yakima, WA (about 100 miles away) shopping and taking stuff from my parents' house. All in all, we bought a table and four chairs, a media storage cabinet, and scored a totally sweet couch that folds out into a "bed" free from my parents. In order to haul all this stuff back to Moses Lake, we needed a U-Haul. So we rented one. Pretty good story, huh? Psyche! It's not even close to over yet. (Why doesn't anyone say "psyche!" anymore? I miss it. NOT! And why doesn't anyone say "NOT!" anymore? I mean that one never stopped being funny. Am I right? But I digress...)

It's early Sunday morning, and the brickwife and I are about to head out on the road for our 90 minute trip home. I'm driving the U-Haul and she is following behind me in our newly repaired brand new car (that's another story I'll share someday). After getting gas, I get out of town about 10 minutes in front of her. It's an easy drive. There are a few big hills (mountains I think they're called back east) and a big river to cross, but since it's Sunday morning, there's not much traffic. Not that there is ever much traffic on I-90 east once you get past Ellensburg. So anyway, I'm cruising along about 15 miles from my final destination. I look to my right at the county road that runs parallel to the freeway and what do I see? I see a big ol' early 90's Dodge Ram. It's an ugly gold/tan color, which in itself is not weird. What is weird is that it's flying down this little county road at the same speed at which I am driving on the interstate. Weirder still is that the driver seems to be trying to get my attention. He's a typical central Washington farmer guy. Dirty blond hair, mustache, etc. So I look confused, give him the old shoulder shrug to say "Whaddayawant?" We starts waving more vigorously, apparently trying to flag me down. Now I'm worried. I've had a bad experience with a moving truck before so I start to think that maybe the back came open and I dumped a couch out onto the freeway. What if he floored it to catch up to me because he saw the brickwife get into an accident a few miles back and she told him to catch me and tell me? "Whew," I think, "there's an exit just 1/2 mile ahead. I'll take it and find out what is the matter." So I take the exit, turn right towards where I can see the truck sitting at a stop sign waiting for me. The following conversation ensues.

Me: Is something the matter?

Him: Can I interest you in a blowjob?

Me:..............Ummmmmmmm..................What??????

Him: Can I interest you in a blowjob?

Me: No! (while simultaneously flooring it)

At this point, my mind is reeling. What just happened? Am I dreaming? Did I fall asleep on the road? All the while, I'm driving the wrong direction on the little county road. After a couple of minutes I decide I'd better turn around so I can get back on the freeway and get home. Luckily, the truck is no longer at the stop sign so I avoid getting accosted again. Fifteen minutes later, I pull up infront of our new apartment to meet a confused brickwife.

"How did I get here before you?" she wonders.
"I'm not really sure how to explain it......"

I never saw that truck or that guy again, but, to this day, I still wonder if there is some kind of weird anonymous gay subculture among the farmers and cattlemen out there in the middle of Red country.

And honestly, "can I interest you in a blowjob?" Who says that????