Update #31 [Where is my mind?]

I have to stop and wonder where my mind is sometimes – like – I know that it is usually there for a joke – or at the very least for some ridiculous non sequitur . . . but then there are other times where even I am stupefied with my stupification.

I was at a birthday party with a bunch of people – where (at the time that this happened) I only knew the birthday girl and her better half. I was doing what I seem to do all too frequently . . . I was talking about my dog.

I need to set everyone straight for a second by making sure that you know that out of all of the creatures (people included) in the world – I see my dog (Irving Brown Socks) far more than (probably) everybody else – far – far – depressingly far more.

Anyway – this girl asks me about the dog and I smartly give all of his particulars – “He is a 45 (forty-five) pound – 3 (three) year old – boarder-collie black lab and his name is Irving Brown Socks!”

The wheels fell off of the conversation when she then asked me what he looked like. Now – that is a pretty simple question – I mean I know his birthday – and as much about his embedded collar as I care to . . . I know his quirks – his schedule – the things that he likes to do and the things that he shies away from – bank all of that on top of the fact that – in theory – I lean towards the direction of being a visual person – and the answer should have been a slam dunk.

My mind went totally blank. I started stumbling and mumbling about how he was black with some brown fur and that he wore white socks on his feet . . . but that was just the general information. So I stopped myself and came clean with the party. I couldn’t remember what my dog looked like – and what an odd feeling that was. I said something along the lines of “Let’s just say – for the sake of argument – that in some strange world the police put together a line-up of dogs . . . and that none of those dogs were showing any more love to me than any of the other dogs. I’m not entirely sure that – as we speak – that I would be able to pick my dog out of that line-up.”

As I was saying – I’m not sure what is wrong with me – or my brain. It strikes me as being a bad thing to not even be able to remember what my dog looks like. Sometimes I feel like my brain is like a goose in the rain – with all of the water of the world slipping right off of my back . . . or am I thinking of a duck?!

The end of the story is nice though. I had a nice sit down with the Irving – and we came to a decision that to make up for my very social faux pas . . . I have offered him the position of press secretary for the organization . . . and before anyone even begins to scream about nepotism – bear in mind that for one dull and dark moment in the world – I forgot exactly what my dog looks like and I think that you will understand that middle management in an burgeoning multi-media empire with nothing but glass ceilings is the very least that he deserves . . .

I’m glad that he is able to forgive my brain. I am glad that he is my dog.

Tip of the morning to ye!

So – for someone that doesn’t drink any coffee – anytime – I seem to drink a heck of a lot of Starbucks. But what in the world could I possibly drink at that highly-priced – sort-of-expensive – oh-so-yummy – slightly-addictive – place-that-the-world-goes-to – kind of place?

The Chai Latte – in the size of medium (or whatever they would like for you to call it).

Now – here is the tip.

Every so often I’ll get one of them tasty latte beverages. Then when I get around to sipping from it – I find – not the grand experience that I have come to crave – but instead a sad watery version of my drink of all drinks [EDITORS NOTE: Currently my drinks of all drinks that I love are Coke, Mountain Dew, Sweet Tea, Vitamin Water and Chai Latte – in no particular order]. The problem is that since they come so ridiculously hot – I usually don’t find out for quite awhile. But when the timing works out (when I still in close enough proximity to the Starbucks) – I get to go back to the store and get a different version – drink 2.0 – or the like.

I have probably returned about 3 (three) of these drinks over the last 6 (six) months or so – and never really known why they sometimes had water in them – was it the barista’s preference to save the company some milk or were they just aiming to make me miserable?! Then – last weekend – I got a drink – walked around for awhile – got in the car to leave – tasted it – and was depressed to find a watery watery mess. Out of the car I got – and back to the store I marched. After getting the latte making ladies attention – who happened to be super-busy and kind of snippy – the main truth in the world came out.

Evidently the recipe calls for water (stupid recipe) – and so all you have to do in the world is say “No water – please.” and everything should work out fine. Now if I could just figure out how to get them to make it less scorching hot . . . my (perfect) teeth are so sensitive.

The song (that) is stuck in my head.

So – here is a song that is quite catchy. It is by a band named “Peter Bjorn and John” and it is called “Young Folks.” I hear it in my head all (okay – some) of the time . . . especially the whistling part. That is all that I am going to say about it . . . mostly because I am nervous to see if this little Flash mp3 player is going to work . . . keep your whistlers crossed.

As a tiny extra side note – you guys seriously need to work on crossing your whistlers . . . I had a serious meltdown trying to figure out the XML and the configuration of the SWF to make that there player work . . . but take a deep breath and a wave of thanks in the direction of Mister Clunky Robot . . . because he saved the day.

Ant 87

A Book Review?!

I was so excited when a little bird told me that “The Children of Hurin” a new book by J.R.R. Tolkien was out that I ran out and bought it for her dad – who is a moderate to large fan of adventures in Middle Earth. He seemed genuinely surprised and happy at this newfound story to read and then he put it away – he hid it away – possibly never to be seen again – and I got antsy. The story is only 236 pages long – so I figured that he would read it and then I would be able to get my grubby hands on it – I am also quite the fan of stories of hobbits – and whatnot. I waited for a couple of weeks and then – when I couldn’t stand the pressure (from myself), I snuck in to his lair, grabbed it and ran for the train where I knew I would have ample time to zip through the pages – possibly before anyone was the wiser.

The book is edited by Tolkien’s son, Christopher Tolkien, and is the end result of a story that appeared in various forms – most notably in Tolkien’s “The Silmarillion” – another book about Middle Earth (originally published in 1977) that was edited/published by Christopher Tolkien – which incidentally – I haven’t quite gotten around to reading – yet – mostly because I have heard that it is dense and a tough read . . . I mean I enjoy dragons and dwarves – but it has to be – at least – kind of entertaining. History for the sake of history is for stones and pebbles.

To the story!

First off – a warning. Unless you have some crazy condition that forces you to read every single page – I would advise you to skip both the preface and the introduction – because they embody everything that I am afraid “The Simarillon” may be – dry – and boring talk about the various histories of the story. And – seriously – you are going to need your stamina – because the first 15 (fifteen) pages – or so – of the actual story are pretty rough reading as well . . . a lot of he begat him – who – in turn begat this – who was in that battle with which-er-ma-roo . . . and stuff.

Once you get through that opening salvo of gruel . . . the adventure begins in earnest. It is the story of the family of Hurin the leader of the House of Hador in the land of Dor-lomin – don’t get too lost there – I am trying to keep it as simple as possible. Basically – after the “Battle of Unnumbered Tears” (against this big not-so-good-guy, Morgoth – of whom – Sauron (the main bad guy in “The Lord of the Rings”) was only a lieutenant) – which ends poorly – Hurin goes away – and the rest of the book follows the tragic and meandering life of his son Turin. There are elves, dwarves, bands of thieves, damsels in distress and even a dragon (named Glaurung) for good measure.
I enjoyed the book ten times – and really appreciated it re-opening the door to Middle Earth for me . . . and that is pretty much all that I can say. It is so short that if I give away (the part about the robots) then it might ruin (the part where gorillas come in and take all of the babies to the fair to eat candied apples and ride the Ferris wheel) the whole book – and I would never want to do that. One of my favorite parts was the map (all of these books have maps so that I can follow along with the story) and also the genealogical charts of all of the characters – including some that even show up in “The Lord of the Rings.”

I suppose that my next step is going to be reading “The Simarillon” . . . but my brain is going to have to be in the right place for that – a place where I will be able to enjoy “a complex work that explores a wide array of themes inspired by many ancient, medieval, and modern sources.”

Okay – now I have to go and sneak this book back under the pillow of a sleeping giant . . . shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.