I’ll Go Around You!!

Y’know something I hate?  When someone is stopped to turn left, and the car behind them almost goes around them on the shoulder.  Instead of just going around them and continuing with their day, (and letting ME go around as well) what they do is fade half onto the shoulder, and stop.

I mean…they’d fit if they went around.  Nothing bad would happen, but no, they fade right as if they’re going to go around…brakes on…and stop.  Then we all wait for the left-turner to complete their turn, and we move on.

Now personally, I just drive around.  I don’t even slow down much.  Maybe it’s scary or edgy or whatever, but I’ve been known to blow around a left-turner (given a paved shoulder, or even the dedicated go-around lane) at 60mph.  Heck, I know how wide my car is, and I know I’m not going to hit anything.  I will slow down to 45mph or so for gravel shoulders.

But what do these almost-go-arounders think?  Is it something like:

“Uh-oh…you’d better complete your turn, or I’ll go around you.  See?  I’m starting to fade over!  I’ll go around you!  I will!  I’ll do it!!  I swear to God I’ll go around you!  DON’T MAKE ME DO IT!  DON’T MAKE ME GO AROUND YOU!! I’M GOING TO GO AROUND YOU I’M NOT KIDDING I’LL DO IT WATCH ME DO IT DON’T MAKE GO AROUND YOU!!  AAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAA!!!“

Then the car turns, and the almost-go-arounder takes their foot off the brake and starts to move again.

Just makes me want to slap them.  Probably doesn’t bother anyone else.  Where’s the Tylenol?

Wow. Wha’happen?

Geez, when’s the last time I blogged?  May?  Cripes!  So much for that daily-journal-get-the-angst-out-be-happier concept, eh?

So, back to the griping.

I hate the dismissive two-finger wave drivers give while still holding onto the steering wheel.  You get it when you’re a pedestrian, mostly when a driver’s stopped at a stopsign, and you start to cross in the crosswalk, and they give you the “go ahead” wave when you’re already walking.  Like they gave me permission to exercise my right-of-way or something.

You know, while still holding the steering wheel with thumb, ring and pinky fingers, they give a quick brushing-off motion with the index and middle fingers.  Sort of “you may proceed, knave, and then begone with you.”  It’s different if I stop on the curb and see if they’re going to go…yes, very different from when they are already stopped at a stopsign and I’m in a crosswalk and…

..oh, hellsticks, it sounds all petty and whiny like this.  Nevermind.

Wait, I guess the whole dang thing can be summed up as: “I hate people.  By and large, the people around me are fuck-tards.”

MySpace, Feb 11 – 21, 2008

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Etiquette!!
Current mood: annoyed

It seems like people don’t have a fudging clue how to be polite anymore. Screw polite, I’d be happy with courteous. I’d even settle for “not clueless” in a pinch. Maybe I just live, drive and work among a bunch of flippin’ hogs. Maybe people need some pointers on how to NOT piss off everyone around them.Forget Miss Manners and all of her “keep your pinky down at tea-time” and “remember to mail a hand-written thank you doily.” I think I have some pertinent, real-world, 21st-century rules for etiquette here. Wanna hear it — here it is…

Elevators — First off…then on. Let the people who are on the elevator get off when the doors open…then there’s room for your doughy, too-lazy-to-take-the-stairs-DOWN-a-floor ass to get on. When you try to squeeze into the elevator as soon as the doors crack open….you’re guaranteed — GUARAN-DAMN-TEED — to run face-first into the people trying to squeeze OUT of the elevator.

Generally, I stand RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOORS when I’m on the elevator, and if I have a hand-cart I stick it 1/2″ from them. When the doors open, I shove, and get to hear the satisfying crack of cart on shin.

Elevators II — You don’t need to take the elevator down one floor. C’mon people, I see you waiting for five minutes for an elevator to carry your lazy ass exactly 12 feet down. You could seriously go down the stairs on your elbow and lips and get there faster.

Doors, Automatic — You know, the “handicap button” for the door. I’m not saying you shouldn’t use the button unless you’re Steven Hawking, no. It’s handy when you have your arms full. But if you push the button, accept what happens. Don’t hit the button, realize that the door opens SLOW for the disabled, huff in exasperation, then grab the door and yank it open anyway. It makes you look like an ass.Lines — Do your time and shut the hell up. Don’t get in line, stand there for 10.2 seconds, then start huffing and hissing and telling everyone within 50 feet that things are “ridiculous,” and “unacceptable” and that the clerk is “incompetent.” Look at the eight people in front of you. They’ve been there longer than you. Shut the hell up. Nobody wants to hear you whining. Don’t you dare count the items in my cart. Bugger off.

Doors, Holding Of — C’mon, spend three seconds to hold the door open for me if I’m right behind you. I’d do it for you. Don’t let it drop on me, it’s rude, and I’m going to smack it with my paw of a hand when I grab it, and you’re going to jump a little, and mumble a REALLY insincere “sorry…” over your shoulder.

Computer Screens — Don’t Read Mine. Don’t stand there looking over my shoulder as I type an e-mail to someone. Would you watch me take a crap? No. This is that personal, too. I notice you. I do. My next line to type is “I’m getting those urges again…the voices are telling me to grab a pen and stab upward over my right shoulder again…”

Doors, Bathroom — KNOCK ON THE FUCKING DOOR, YOU ASSHOLE!! God I’m sick of people just grabbing the doorknob, twisting and pushing to see if the door’s locked. Makes me wanna yell “Come on in!!” Knock, like your mother taught you. I’ll say “occupied,” you’ll mumble “sorry,” and you’ll find another bathroom. Second place doesn’t get crap. Literally.

Hallways, Aisles, Sidewalks — It’s like the road, numbnuts, keep right. If you’re slow, and you’re wide, stay right so I can get around you. Maybe YOU don’t have to be anywhere this hour, but I DO! If you’re approaching a corner, stay on your side, don’t just cut as tightly to the inside as you can. You’ll find yourself face-to-face with a stranger.

Four-Way Stop Signs — Oh, is there a bigger barometer of driver stupidity? God, it’s like a custom-made IQ test. The answer is simple: If you stopped first, go first. More importantly, if you DIDN’T stop first, DON’T GO! If you did stop first, stop waving others through! It holds everybody up! Stop it! Don’t be “nice,” just move yer ass!

Lane Control — This lane is MY lane / This lane’s not YOUR lane. / This lane’s NOT made for me AND you… So if your lane is moving too slow for you and mine’s not…TOO BAD! Keep your britches on, partner, and just sit there! You’re not entitled to the space I’m driving in, so hands off!

Snow, Reasonable Speed — For the love of Christ, go a decent speed when the roads are bad. Slow down, yeah…go 17 mph for two counties? There’s a special place in hell reserved for YOU, buddy. I understand that some cars are not good winter cars. I have a 1984 Crown Victoria that’s an absolute nightmare on ice — but if you are an over-cautious driver anyway, you need to NOT take your Pontiac Fiero out in the snow, and drive 12 miles per hour up Division, and hold up a mile of cars behind you. If you have to drive a Fiero (or any reeeally bad winter car) you need to commit to driving like an FIA World Rally Cup champion, so as not to hold up all the possibly armed commuters behind you.

Snow vs. 4×4’s — You ain’t got Four-Wheel-Drive-Brakes, there, Professor. Sure, you have four Michelins making you go faster…but step on the brakes and you have the same stuff as everyone else. Hmm…I wonder why almost every vehicle I see in the ditch is a 4×4? I wonder… hmm…. were they driving too fast? Naww, couldn’t be…

Eating — CHEW WITH YOUR MOUTH CLOSED!! GOD-DAMN!! Honestly, it sounds like someone stirring a can of paint with a dirty mop, and it makes me want to throw up. Gawd.

I think this is enough for one sitting. I know there’s more — there’s so much more — but I can’t think of any right now.

Currently listening :
Almost Easy
By Avenged Sevenfold
Release date: 13 January, 2008

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Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Why I Don’t Have Any Friends
Current mood: angsty

What the heck, I’ve got nothing else better to do, why don’t I get all introspective and self-revealing in a Myspace blog? I’m basically doing this for me anyway…that some other people are reading this is just salt’n pepper on the meat, I guess.So yeah, I quite soberly proclaim that I don’t have any friends. I have acquaintances. I have co-workers. I have “people I know.” But friends? By my count, not a one. At this point, it’s mostly me…I don’t even try to make friends any more. I don’t for a minute confuse Making Friends with Being Friendly, either. I can Be Friendly to anyone, though I usually keep it scaled back to Being Courteous. I can Be Friendly to the girl behind the counter at Burger King, or to the customer at work whose PDA I just installed, or to a random stranger who needs directions. Even to the people who I work with every day, and have spent a week with on a business trip. But are any of these people my friends? No.

The last person who I really consider my friend was back in college — I graduated in 1995, so that’s over a decade ago now. He and I were close, near inseperable. We both graduated at the same time. He and his wife moved to Atlanta, I stayed in Michigan to look for work, but eventually traveled down their at his invitation to look for work down there. And he was different. Snobbier. His wife got her period the first week I was there (that’s what he said, anyway) and I swear it lasted for two months. I ended up leaving in disgust as he demanded hundreds of dollars from my still-jobless self for all the groceries I’d eaten. (never mind that I’d bought most of them.) That was in 1996, and we haven’t spoken since.

The next most-recent friend was in 1991, at the college before that. Again, we were good, close friends. He ended up buying a business, and I ended up working for him. I commuted from Midland to Lansing to work in his store, basically earning enough to pay for the gas and that was it. And he stopped being my friend and started being my manager…I would say “Hey, I’m going to get a sandwich, I’ll be back in five minutes.” He would say “You can take your lunch now.” I’d reply, “I don’t need to ‘take my lunch,’ I just need five minutes to get a sandwich.” He’d say “go ahead and take your lunch now.” Finally he cut my hours and hired a local kid to take my place, and made it cost me money to come work. And he laughed at me when I told him. That was in 1991. We haven’t spoken since.

I even lost a friend of over 20 years. We started being friends in 5th grade, were friends in high school. He was in my wedding, I was in his. He’s been in the USAF since high school, and has steadily become more and more right-wing conservative and militarized, while I’ve stayed fairly moderate to left-moderate. His increasing inability to tolerate others’ point of view has ended our friendship, as I see it…and looking back I can see that he’s never respected me at any point in my life. When we were kids, if I disagreed I was “complaining.” When we were teenagers I got a fast car and it was “you’re going to kill yourself,” not “cool, man.” When I was in college it was “you didn’t vote for that faggot-loving Clinton, didja?” Last year when I expressed an opinion about Americans, it was “you don’t know anything, you need to travel more.” That was last year, and we haven’t spoken since.

I even tried making friends with the people I work with…I hung out with one of my co-workers a couple of times at his house, but when the day came that I invited him over to my house, he didn’t show up. When I called him the answer on the phone was “Oh……….I don’t still have to do that, do I?” I said, “No, you don’t have to do that.” Ever. That was something like five years ago, and I haven’t talked to him outside of work since. Or bothered inviting anyone else from work over for any reason.

They make us take yearly satisfaction surveys at work, and the question that surprised me the most was: “I feel I’ve made close friends while working at Munson.” My answer was No, and if I could check ‘No’ five times I would…is there a ‘hell, no’ box to check? The part that surprised me? The most common answer was Yes, absolutely.

I’m sure that anyone can read all this and say “wow, you’re a whiny little bitch, aren’t you?” I’m not going to stand up, raise my hand and say that I’m perfect…or even close…or even all that good a person. I know my shortcomings. I’m sure if you asked any of those people they could rattle off their own laundry list of stuff I’ve done that pissed them off.

But I look at the concept of having friends and I think: “Well, I don’t have the money to go do anything with a friend. With four kids I don’t have the time to do anything with a friend. I don’t go anywhere or do anything. I’m boring. And I’m cheap. I have nothing to offer.”

So I’ve come to my late 30’s with a wife, four kids, one remaining parent, one remaining grandparent, and not a friend to my name. The very thought of “friend” anymore actually makes a little knot in my stomach. If I were taking one of those word-association games, the shrink would say “friend,” and I’d say “Ugh.” I’m uncomfortable with the thought of it…I think of “friend” as just another person to support in some way, just another drain on my resources.

Thing is, I know that’s not normal. Do everybody’s friends screw them over at some point? If so, do people just make up and go on, or are friends supposed to be disposable and replaceable? Or are other people just better at picking people for friends that won’t turn into assholes? Or am I just basically an asshole myself, and that’s why nobody wants to be around me?

Whatever…I know that my situation isn’t normal, and that I can’t see any way to change it, and I’m not sure I even want to at this point…and yet I’m pretty sure that I DO want to change this thing, or I wouldn’t have just wasted this much time typing out a long-winded, whiny-assed blog like this one.

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Monday, February 11, 2008

Random Stuff
Current mood: sleepy

Why is it that the only people who want to be my “friends” on this website are girls with no last names, who all want me to look at “their other website” with “the good pictures” on it? Does nobody else come in contact with my profile? Is it the hot green Mustang in the background that does it? “Ooh, this man has a HOT car, I want to show HIM my hoo-hoo-dilly!” Yeah, I didn’t think so either.
—
Geez, is everybody sick right now? I started out with a cold a week ago. It made my weekend miserable, and continued straight through Wednesday or so…whereupon on its way out it shook hands with the GI bug on its way in. THAT made the last half of last week all disgusting and stuff…Heck, I’m still not right down South. I know, thanks for sharing. But really, everywhere I go, someone’s hacking out a spleen, or blowing quarts of goo into a Kleenex, or their glove. What is up? Is anyone healthy?
—
I’m a nerd. I was all excited to be able to rehab my old laptop this weekend. It’s a Pentium II that we got from eBay several years ago, and we used it for a long time until the power brick went feet-up. Well, I got a replacement brick and got it going again. I wanted to install Fedora Redhat Linux on it instead of Windows, but it didn’t have enough memory installed to run Fedora. Next, I tried to install Solaris on it, and make it a Sun workstation. Still, not enough memory. So, I reformatted the hard drive and reinstalled Windows 98 — heck, it has a sticker on it that says “made for Windows 98,” so that’s a non-issue. After reloading windows on it, I took out the hard drive, battery and cd drive, then split the top and bottom halves of the laptop and vacuumed it out thoroughly, then reassembled the unit and proceeded to put Office on it, and load the drivers for soundcards, video cards and etc.Yeah, I can disassemble and reassemble laptops. It’s not that hard, really, excepting Fujitsu Lifebook tablets. Those are the spawn of the devil. I even opened up a Palm Tungsten PDA once, removed the battery, replaced and reassembled, and fixed a problem someone was having. Work even sent me to Wisconsin in December to learn how to disassemble Laserjet printers and reassemble them.

Best of all, I can be hired! I’m not cheap, though — well, maybe I am. I called a couple of computer stores to find out what they charge to come to your house and fix a computer. My god in heaven, they charge $95/hr labor! That doesn’t include the $35/hr to DRIVE to your house and back to their shop. Or parts. Holy lord, that’s out and out robbery! I couldn’t believe how much money they ask for — and get!

It’s 10 to midnight now, and I have to be on the road by 6:30am for work tomorrow. I’m already up too late, I have to go. Bye.

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MySpace, Feb. 2 – 7, 2008

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Where Did The Normal People Go?
Current mood: angsty

This has been building up for a while. Where are the “normal” folks? Where are the people who look like they… (deep breath) …don’t reek of smoke, bathe regularly, get their hair cut by professionals, get their hair cut more than twice a year, wear clothes that don’t advertise NASCAR or a snowmobile, have all their teeth, have skin that isn’t grey, completed the 12th grade, don’t talk with a Tennessee back-hills accent, don’t wear Treebark camoflage, don’t distrust the police, don’t despise “collidge boys,” don’t fear computers, don’t date their cousins, don’t live in a trailer, don’t feed their dogs better than their kids, don’t swear in daily conversation and don’t part out dead cars for money?I swear to gawd, I don’t fit in where I live because I’m college educated, well-dressed, relatively well groomed — hell, I’ll sum it up as “middle class,” in mindset if not in actual income. But it’s true, I don’t fit in here, not even a little bit. Buckley, Michigan is truly a town of good, honest, hard-working hicks — and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Folks here have been by-and-large good-natured and pleasant, just working-class, that’s all. Buckley has been a great place to live for the past two years, and I feel like I’ve been accepted by the community, even while I don’t fit in with the community. Kind of like I’m acceptably different, I guess.

But the more I look around, the more I feel like I’ll never even LOOK like a local unless I start wearing Carhartt’s and a RealTree camo hat, shave my beard but grow a mustache that covers my mouth, get some wraparound Dale Earnhardt-style sunglasses and wear them everywhere, and ditch my Volvo for a Chevy Truck. And even then the illusion will be shattered as soon as I open my mouth, and out comes “Pray tell, but what might we be having as accoutrements to this entree?” and not “Whutcha got fer sahd diyushes?”

Okay, so I work in a hospital. Sure, I’m a computer nerd there, but I get out and about, and I see patients and their families in the hallways. Lately, by gawd, it seems like they’ve pushed the rock out of the mouth of the cave and tumbled into town. I don’t know what makes people’s skin that awful gray color, but I’d guess it’s a combination of cigarettes and cheap beer and incest, if I had to guess. I’m seeing the people where I chant to myself: don’t catch this elevator, don’t catch this elevator, don’t catch this– “What floor ya headed for, sir?” Dammit! After sharing an elevator for three floors, it reeks of stale ashtray so bad I have to drink from the water fountain to wash the taste out of my mouth.

And it’s not like the exception is the guy missing his front teeth — but sticking his tongue through the gap. No, they’re everywhere, and people wearing clothes that look like they’ve been washed recently are the exception. And what’s the deal…I live in Michigan. We’re 20 minutes from the 45th parallel — the halfway mark to the North Pole. So stop with the shit-kicking Tennessee accent already. Yew ain’t in yer mamma’s shotgun shack annymore, Billy-Bo-Bob. Yew is in de North, wit Ya-yunkees, and yew’d better deal wit’ it.

So I look around at my neighbors (speaking in a larger sense here, not just folks on my street) and what does it look like they value? Toys (snowmobiles, dirt bikes, jet-skis, quadrunners, etc), pro sports, NASCAR, smoking, going to the bar, hunting, country music and pickup trucks. What do I value? Providing for my family, making my yard look good, buying a home, culture (interesting food, music like jazz, artwork), raising my kids. Where do I have to live where I’m the normal one, and I can have a conversation without feeling like I have to censor every other word lest I get “the look,” or one of the oh-so-common “stock replies.” As follows:

Them: “What do you do?”
Me: “I fix computers.”
Stock Answer: I don’t know how you can sit in front those things for hours.

Them: “What are you listening to?”
Me: “Ella Fitzgerald.”
Stock Answer: How can you listen to that? Put on some Hank Williams.

Me: (drives up in, washes, or is seen near our Volvo)
Stock Reply: That sure is a fancy car.

Them: “What’d you do last weekend?”
Me: (any answer other than “not much.”)
Them: (facial expression like they just watched an elephant crawl out of a Coke bottle.)

So really…where are all the “normal” people?

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Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Okay, I love these things, too.
Current mood: working

1. What is the best way to get over someone?
- – Ladder. No, wait…helicopter. No, wait…promotion to management.

2. What makeup do you wear on a daily bases?
- – I’m a dude. So only a little bit of eyeliner and some blush.

3. Is your AIM away message on?
- – I don’t use AIM.

4. If you could eat one meal for the rest of your life, what?
- – Lunch. Breakfast is too early and wouldn’t carry me until the next morning.

5. Where would you like to be right now?
- – Juneau, AK

6. Do you like being in group dates or single?
- – Never done either…dunno.

7. Why?
- – Oh fer gawd’s sake.

8. Anyone on your mind?
- – Yeah.

9. Who was your last hug?
- – baby girl…the youngest one.

10. Who’d you get this survey from?
- – Margie

11. Do you currently like anyone?
- – Yeah.

12. Ever told someone you loved them and not mean it?
- – I don’t think so.

13. Ever been told you were loved by someone who didn’t mean it?
- – And just how would I know that?

14. Last person you hugged?
- – Didn’t you ask that already?

15. Have you ever been used?
- – Yeah, I think so.

16. Have you ever used anyone?
- – I dunno. Probably. Hope not, though.

18. Have you ever been cheated on?
- – Not as far as I know.

19. Is cheating acceptable in a relationship?
- – No. Doesn’t make women any less attractive, though.

20. Who’s your current best friend?
- – Don’t have one.

21. Who was your first real best friend?
- – Jenny Marcus, wayyyy back in Elementary school.

22. Are you still best friends with that person?
- – Nope.

23. What is your biggest fear?
- – Death.

24. Who was the last person to call you?
- – Nobody calls me.

25. Longest phone conversation?
- – Back in college, my wife-to-be and I tested the limits of a cordless phone battery.

26. Are you hungry?
- – usually.

27. Do you smoke?
- – No. Uck.

28. Want anything now?
- – A sandwich. A nice house. An Oxygen sensor for my car. Happiness in my home.

29. Last time you cried?
- – Almost 3 years ago.

30. Reason for the last time you cried?
- – Delayed reaction to losing my mom.

31. Ever done something really stupid?
- – Yup.

32. What can’t you go a day without doing?
- – Breathing. Being sarcastic.

33. Do you miss anyone?
- – Yup.

34. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?
- – No.

35. Life?
- – Better than the alternative. And sunrises are beautiful.

36. Girl?
- – Three of ‘em. And a boy. He’s the oldest.

37. Myspace?
- – Yes it is.

38. Winter?
- – Cold. Pretty though.

39. Friends?
- – Don’t have much use for those.

40. Tattoo?
- – Boss! Boss! De Plane!

41. Last song?
- – Crush, Crush, Crush by Paramore

42. Last movie you watched?
- – Pirates of the Caribbean, At World’s End.

43. Birthday?
- – 3/16

44. What are you doing right now?
- – Besides the obvious…shirking work.

45. What should you be doing right now?
- – Work. Duh.

48. What means the most to you?
- – The sanctity of human life. Honesty. “Form Follows Function.”

49. Ever been in love?
- – Yup.

50. Do you believe in love at first sight?
- – Yup. Do I believe it’s practical? Nope.

51. Are you keeping a secret from someone that needs to know the truth?
- – Keeping a secret…oh, yes…what a tangled web. Need to know the truth? Nope.

52. Are your parents divorced?
- – Yup. One of ‘em’s even dead.

53. Eye color?
- – Blue-ish/Grey-ish

54. Hair color?
- – Brown-ish

55. Winter or summer?
- – Spring. Nyah!

56. Night or day?
- – Either. Without night there can be no dawn.

57. Biggest mistake you’ve made recently?
- – So many mistakes, so little time.

58. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos?
- – Want? Yes. Gonna get? Jeez lord no, they use needles for those!

59. Last time you had soda?
- – Lunch. Wait…now.

60. Do you believe in kissing on the first date?
- – Love to say yes…in practice, no.

65. Do you believe in sex on the first date?
- – REALLY love to say yes…in practice, I’ve turned it down. Damn these old-fashioned morals!

66. Where will you be in 4 years?
- – Same place I am now…but maybe in an office with a window.

67. Do you have your future planned out?
- – Loosely. The destination is circled, but the route isn’t inked in.

68. Do you want to get married?
- – My wife would prob’ly object.

69. Describe your life in one word?
- – Alright.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

Life Is A History Lesson…You Learn It When You’re Through.
Current mood: thoughtful

One of my friends’ blogs spurred this. And since I only have like seven friends, they’ll know exactly who they are…no matter. Anywho, they opined that their dad had seen history. I hold that we all have, we just don’t realize it.When I was born, Nixon was president. I was one month old when Apollo 13 flew. I was two when the Munich Olympics were terrorized. I was three when Vietnam ended, and four when Nixon resigned. I was five when the Apollo/Soyuz mission flew. I was nine when Skylab fell out of orbit. I was seven when Star Wars was released.

I was nine when Iran took our people hostage, and eleven when they were released. I was ten when John Lennon was killed, when Mount St. Helens erupted in Washington state, and when Pac-Man was unleashed. I was eleven when Reagan and Pope John Paul II were shot, and when MTV first aired. I was sixteen when the Space Shuttle Challenger blew up, and when Chernobyl melted down. When the Berlin Wall fell, I was 19.

I was twenty when we fought Desert Storm, and 21 when the Soviet Union broke up. I was 19 when the World Wide Web was created…but first “surfed” it when I was 25. I was 21 when Nirvana put grunge on the air, and 24 when Kurt Cobain killed himself. I was 28 when the Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal and subsequent trial happened. I was 27 when England gave Hong Kong to the People’s Republic of China.

When the FBI burned down the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, TX, I was 22. I was also 22 for the Rodney King trial and subsequent LA riots. I was 25 when the Federal building in Oklahoma City was bombed. I was 27 when Princess Diana died…also when Mother Teresa died. I was 29 when the Columbine school shootings happened, and at the turn of the millenium. I was thirty-one on “9/11.” I was 32 when the Space Shuttle Columbia broke up over Texas on re-entry.

And on and on. I’ve seen the landing of robotic rovers on Mars, and a second war in the Middle East. I’ve seen the President of the U.S. appointed to office — not elected. I’ve seen the arrival of electric-gas hybrids in the mainstream market. I’ve seen at least two more countries become nuclear powers.

I’ve seen a lot of history in my life, even if it takes looking back and going “wow, I guess that was bigger than I thought.”

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