• Somewhere between a hammer and a hard place

    The litany of my errors goes something like this…
    Monday. I forget my magic (coffee beans) at home.
    Tuesday. I forget my lucky (coffee) mug at home.
    Wednesday. I forget my faithful (coffee bean) grinder at home.

    Forgive me father, for I have sinned.

    Wednesday morning I was standing (barely) in a coworker’s office, offering sage advice on matters pertaining to work, when I could not help but notice he had a hammer on his desk.

    Me: “Hey, are you using that hammer right now.”
    Him: “Does it look like I’m using a hammer right now?”
    Me: “Smart ass.”
    Him: “I learned from the best.”
    Me: “Daniel-san! Wax on, wax off!”
    Him: “Huh?”
    Me: “Nothing… do you mind if I borrow that there fine specimen of a hammer?”
    Him: “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
    Me: “Not if you quit giving me the business and give me a hammer.”
    Him: “Sure, go ahead. What do you want it for?”
    Me: “I’m going to grind some coffee.”
    Him: “No, really…?”
    Me: “NO, REALLY.”
    Him: “I’m sorry I asked.”

    Thus armed with a hammer, some whole coffee beans, and a plastic zip lock bag… wa la! One zip lock bag of pulverized coffee beans… the next best thing to fresh ground coffee.

  • A failure to differentiate

    Putting a label or some kind of mark on one of them would have been much too simple. No, the best way to tell the difference between the two outwardly identical computers was to put the one that didn’t work away. If you’re just keeping something for parts, you don’t need to keep it handy. Leave the one that works out on the floor of the family room – where it’s easy to get at.

    What’s that? The one left out on the floor now doesn’t work either? Well that’s rotten luck. Might as well open them both up and pull anything that might be useful before we throw them out. I know, I know… but Cheryl will sooner sprout gills and run off with a handsome young tuna than allow us to keep two broken computers with no practical value.

    Hold on a second… did we put the broken computer in storage because we didn’t need to get at it, or did we put the working one in storage so it wouldn’t get damaged on the family room floor? Holy identity crisis Batman, I don’t know which is which!

    —

    It turns out the rumors of my iMac’s demise were greatly exaggerated. All of my server software was still installed and operational.

    Sure, I haven’t turned it on since I discovered it in working order (a week ago) – but we’re all breathing a little easier around these parts knowing that it’s ready when we need it. Except Cheryl… she’s just lost her reason to throw away a couple of computers.

    HA HA! Foiled again!

  • Compare and Contrast

    On evenings past I have stumbled around in the dark looking for a flashlight that mysteriously wasn’t there. On these dark, perilous journeys through veritable minefields of wheeled children’s toys, I have wondered if the addictive effect of a flashlight on a child is similar to the effect of heroine. Sure, there are a few kinks to work out… like the fact that testing the theory will get you a 6 x 6 room to share with a man who seems way more interested in underwear than would seem normal. Just what is it about a small, battery-powered bulb that so fascinates the youthful mind; and why are adults immune to its habit-forming effects?

    I find myself having to hide my emergency flashlight from curious young fingers, making it that much less handy in the event of an actual emergency. Perhaps it is yet another sign of my failure as a parent.