Drive By

I was out walking my dog Bear early Wednesday morning, the day before Thanksgiving.

I heard a car behind me. An ugly powder blue Toyota Prius approached and I saw the driver's side window come down. An old Chinese woman pulled up to me and stopped. 

She practically yelled at me.

"You looking for PAPER ... ??!?" she shout/asked.

"Nooooooo ..." I said more quizically than in response.

She began driving away. But she stopped again a few seconds later and poked her head out the window, looking back at me. 

"Nice DOG!" she yelled and drove off once more. 

She pulled into a large driveway not far from where I was headed, made a turn into the driveway, performed a rather exaggerated clockwise turn and headed out again back toward me. I didn't make eye contact as she passed me that second time. 

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP. )

"Upside down ... girl you turn me ..."

Make An Argument (Peeves, Part 3)

Speaking of peeves, there's a word out there which, depending on its usage, I'm not too fond of.

That word?

Whatever.

Used as a pronoun or adjective it's fine, not a problem. It's when someone tosses it into conversation as an interjection, as a conversation ender, it irks me. Example:

"It's didn't happen the way you're saying it. There are several different facts you're leaving out ..."

"Whatever."

That's when I dislike it. 

Because the person saying it in this manner usually falls into one of a few catagories:

1) They're not willing to make an argument to bolster their claim, belief or to take a stand. It's a throwaway response indicating they're done with the subject or the conversation.

2) They're not willing to admit any faulty data or missing information and, again, it's used interjected dismissively.

3) They don't know what they're talking about in the first place. They depend on "whatever" to pooh-pooh the matter at hand with no further comment. Using the word like this, it often takes on a condescending tone.

I maintain if you're not willing to make an argument for what you believe in even in the most mundane of conversations, I don't give any respect to you're resigned use of "whatever." You're figuratively cutting yourself off at the knees and dismissing any accountability to bolster your belief.

It's better you don't say anything at all. At least then you might appear as if you're thinking about it, mulling it over. 

And that I can appreciate.

.......... Ruprecht ( Just STOP using "whatever" already ... )

You'd think the leaves would at least fall off ... right?

(Possibly) Insane Commitment

When I decided to commit to this Napalm Blow-up & Potential Motivator event (better known as NaBloPoMo) it was with two specific plans of action:

• Run the course of the event - 30 consecutive blog posts throughout the month of November. To date (and with today's posting) I'm 70% of the way there. So far, so good.


• Visit and read each and every other bloggers posts committed to same. Rather the daunting task when you realize there are 42 (Forty! Two!) other contributors out there plunking away day in and day out.

And those plans still stand. I have ventured into about a quarter of the other sites thus far. Yes, I have a long way to go but my goal is to visit and read (or at least get the gist of) each posting out there. As of today, November 21st? That's 882 entries on the books if everyone is on track. 

Next week is I'm further committed to tear into and get the vast majority of those posts read. And here's the main reason why:

I decided to delve into NaBloPoMo because I love to see and read and experience new things. And I don't mind doing so even if it's out of my element. And believe you me many of your blogs are just that - completely foreign subjects of which I have exactly zero point of reference. 

But I've never been afraid to learn. And that's what diving into your stuff will do. Force me to learn. 

I've already enjoyed quite a few posts. And I'll be completely honest here: There are a few that either don't trip my trigger or that I even understand. (Example: Knitting and the like.) But there's nothing wrong with that. No one can be everything to everyone.

So ... here's to it. I'll even put in a progress report at the end of it all, for me and for you.

.......... Ruprecht ( won't STOP until every one has been read )

The way I see it, if you're standing on the South Pole
this thing is right side up ...

Moo

Today holds a different sort of anniversary. 

It's the day my mother (I fondly called her "Moo") passed away in 1991, 26 years ago.

I was at work. I was a printing salesman. I got the phone call late that morning. I remember hanging up the phone, standing up, hands balled in fists resting on my desktop. I was hunched over. I remember slamming one of my fists onto the desk with a loud, ringing thud. It hurt ... but it grounded me.

And then I grabbed my suit jacket, went over to my boss' office, told him the news and took off for Wrightwood where she lived nestled in the mountains. 

It was a blur of a day. But I remember certain details, not only about the day itself but the days and weeks following. I remember vividly seeing my mother for one of the last times where she expired in her bed. The coroner removing her. Sitting alone in her house. Contacting relatives. Dealing with all the legal mumbo jumbo. The Mardi Gras party we threw for her funeral. So much more ...

I was still in my 20s. She had just turned 51 years old which seemed too young at the time. (And it was.)

And, somehow, 26 years have wedged themselves in between then and now ... 

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

Remember that annoying habit I wrote about a few weeks back? (Of course you do, being the responsible party you are who frequents my blathers with fevered interest.)

I have another. But this one doesn't bother anyone but me. And it doesn't really even bother me, if I'm being honest. 

It's insomnia. I know, not a habit per se but it happens so frequently it might as well be. I'm used to it. It happens, it's going to continue to happen and I'm living with it. Contentedly, I might add.

Truth be told, it's been more a help than a hindrance. I get a lot of reading in ... and that's always a good thing. (Because fact: There's a lot out there to read.) I have continual writing duties which need my attention. Might as well get to'em and get'em out of the way as they crop up. I'm up and awake anyway. That way I'm ahead of the game, right? Win win. 

The thing is I've often functioned on little sleep. I guess it's going on 20 years, probably more. It isn't an odd I'm up and running with a scant 5 hours beneath my belt. I work until midnight, I'm usually somewhat wired when I get home and it's rare I can immediately turn in after walking through the door. A couple hours of "wind down" time is not unusual. And, yes ... it catches up with me after a month or so. I'll crash for a good 10 hours or more when my body internally screams at me to "Stop it! Stop it! You're killing me!" 

It's not that I don't like sleep. Sleep's a good thing. But it isn't the be all, end all for me like it is for other people. I'll often take productivity in some way, shape or form over slumber at those times. No sense lying there trying to get back to sleep and failing miserably. After all, you can usually sleep; you can't always get done what needs to get done in a timely manner. 

I remember the days when weekends were looked forward to so I could sleep in. It wasn't uncommon on a leisurely Sunday to drag myself out of bed at 11:00 in the morning when I was younger. Those were the days when there was less to do (*snort*), when I was more carefree and, important to me at the time, when I simply didn't care. 

Maybe that's why I can't sleep like the dead any longer.

I might just care too much ....

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

You'd think that thing would, you know, get tired of listing to one side ...

It's Got Nothing To Do With Walla Walla, Washington

Not long ago this was a conversation starter: 

"When people write walla when they mean Voila, it makes me stabby."

I admitted I'd never seen anyone write "walla" for the word "voilà" previously. I hadn't a clue that was "a thing." Naturally, when stuff like this crops up it's time for me to do some digging.

I see the word "walla" and I tag on an extra because "Walla Walla, Washington" - the city and county seat of Walla Walla County in Washington - immediately comes to mind. What else?

Still, off to the dictionary I went. 

Turns out "walla" is an actual word, a form of "wallah," of Indian derivation for a person in charge of, employed at or concerned with a particular thing. Huh. You learn something new everyday. (One of my personal credos.)

But ... "walla" for voilà? This was new to me. I dug further ... and still couldn't come up with any reference. 

And then, slightly frustrated, I said the word out loud to myself. A bell went off. I said it again, this time a bit faster and louder. And that's when I made the connection.

It wasn't the "walla" I was familiar with, the Washington reference, pronounced "wah-lah." It was more a bastardized version of the pronunciation of of "voilà" and, << Voilà! >> ... finally I understood how someone could write voilà as "walla." It took me talking to myself to figure it out.

The thing is: I talk to myself enough ... out loud. Usually alone but sometimes in the presence of others. (That's when I get the interesting looks shot my way.)

But, in this case, it was a good thing.

Because ... revelation.

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

It's just going to sit there and continue to be sideways ... isn't it?

Bonus!

Working until late at night, I'll get up in the morning (without the benefit of much sleep) and head out to whatever project I have without stopping to grab breakfast. Usually this isn't much of a problem. Vut there are days I'm famished and need something to power me through to my next decent meal.

Those times call for a big old Monster Bisquit from Carl's Jr. With its bacon, sausage, egg and cheese all on a bisquit, it often does the trick.

This particular morning, however, I wasn't anywhere near a Carl's. McCrappage was all that was en route. I decided I could live with an Egg McMuffin, sadly lacking though they may be. But ... put a little mayo and mustard one one and it's actually edible.

I pulled into the drive thru (I was the only one frequenting the place at that time) and, to my surprise, I discovered a couple sausage with egg sandwiches were only $3.00. I ordered two. 

"Anything else with that, sir?" I was asked.

"No, thank you. That'll do" I replied.

I paid at one window and drove up to the next to retrieve my order.

A girl handed me a bag. She looked to be about 14 years old if she was a day. 

"Excuse me ... I forgot to ask: Could I get some mayonnaise and mustard too, please?"

"For your order?" she asked me.

Now, sarcastic old me had a couple zippy barbs at the ready, the first of which was "No ... I like to simply open the packets and down them individually, mayo first." But, by the look of this girl, it appeared if I hit her up with something unexpected like that she might break into tears. 

I mean ... what else would the condiments be for? I hadn't ordered anything else. But I decided to be nice and stay on the level. "Yes, they're for my sandwiches, thank you," I confessed.

She disappeared and reappeared just as quickly with my requests. Immediately following, she handed me a large drink and straw.

"Don't forget your Dr. Pepper!" she told me.

This time I couldn't resist. 

"Thank you! Is there a promotion going on I don't know about?"

She looked at me quizically. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Well, you know ... order two Sausage McMuffins, get a free large Dr. Pepper. Is that the deal?"

"Uhm ... no. You didn't order a Dr. Pepper?"

"Nope" I responded. "Maybe the guy behind me ..." I looked in my rear view mirror. "Oh ... look at that. I'm the only one in line here." I handed the drink back to her.

She looked confused. 

"Thank you for my order! Have a good day!" I said as I pulled away.

Where do they get these youngsters?

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

It's! Still! Sideways!