Not original to me, but worth reposting:
While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75 year old Texas rancher, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. Eventually the topic got around to Alaska Governor Palin and her bid to be Vice President.
The old rancher said, "Well, ya know, Palin is a post turtle."
Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a ''post turtle" was.
The old rancher said, "When you''re driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that''s a ''post turtle''."
The old rancher saw a puzzled look on the doctor''s face, so he continued to explain. "You know she didn't get up there by herself, she doesn''t belong up there, she doesn''t know what to do while she is up there, and you just wonder what kind of idiot put her up there."
Monday, September 22, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Red Means Stop
They call it the "Cleveland Creep." It sounds like it should either be a dance style from the 1930s, or on of those guys who's required by law to go from door to door informing all the residents that he's moved in to the neighborhood.
No, my friends, the Creep is not a person. It's a behavior. I don't really know if it's part of the vernacular, but one of Paul's classmates used it to describe this behavior and it was so perfect a description, that I had to embrace it wholeheartedly.
So what is it? The Cleveland Creep is the common practice, in this fair Ohio city, that occurs when drivers come to a red light at an intersection, but fail to stop at the solid bar of white paint before the crosswalk, and the creep well into the crosswalk, or even through it entirely so they are sticking out into the traffic area of the intersection.
As a well trained California driver, I approach the yellow or red light and slow down to bring my car to a full stop before entering the cross walk -- that inviolate and sacred space for the all-powerful pedestrian, whose lack of automobile inherently lends him or her a panoply of rights that no auto-ensconced person can ever hope to attain until they exit their vehicle. From my stopped position, I inevitably see the driver in the lane next to me continue past me for at least a half car-length. It is a behavior I watch with dismay as I observe it happening, multiple times each day.
"Why?!" I wonder, often aloud. Why would a person do that? "What is to be gained by blocking the crosswalk?" Does the 9-foot head-start make a difference when the light turns green?
There are a number of traffic rule practices that people in this region simply don't seem to consider applicable to them. The Creep is the most predominant, followed in close second by the blockage of the intersection completely. If memory serves, I was taught that despite a green light, if you can't clear the intersection in front of you, you're not supposed to progress into it. Again, you hold your place at the solid white paint bar behind the crosswalk until you can completely clear the intersection. The average Cleveland driver doesn't seem to comprehend this concept. Even with 2-3 cars sticking into the intersection ahead of them, many a driver feels that they need to join that conga line, and ensure that when the lights change, no car from the cross-traffic will make it through the intersection. "If I can't get through, then neither will you," appears to be the predominant sentiment.
But there's more ... so you're driving along at 35 MPH, in the right-hand lane, and all of a sudden there's a car parked in front of you, about 50-yards away. This has to be illegal, right? Nope.
There aren't shoulders on the surface streets here, so traffic can be a really fu(ked up experience. On your average 2-lane surface street, including busy thoroughfares, parking is usually allowed in the right hand lane. Please note that I said "LANE." Suddenly, you and the people in front or behind you need to stop and merge in to the left lane, but of course the people in that lane don't want to let you in, so you're sitting there with your turn signal on and trying to bully your way in to the clear lane, and traffic gets backed up even more.
In "Annie Hall," Woody Allen said that California's only contribution to culture was allowing a right turn at a red light. At this point, I'm dying for some culture. It makes you want to import LA-style road rage.
Thank goodness I only have a 5-mile commute.
No, my friends, the Creep is not a person. It's a behavior. I don't really know if it's part of the vernacular, but one of Paul's classmates used it to describe this behavior and it was so perfect a description, that I had to embrace it wholeheartedly.
So what is it? The Cleveland Creep is the common practice, in this fair Ohio city, that occurs when drivers come to a red light at an intersection, but fail to stop at the solid bar of white paint before the crosswalk, and the creep well into the crosswalk, or even through it entirely so they are sticking out into the traffic area of the intersection.
As a well trained California driver, I approach the yellow or red light and slow down to bring my car to a full stop before entering the cross walk -- that inviolate and sacred space for the all-powerful pedestrian, whose lack of automobile inherently lends him or her a panoply of rights that no auto-ensconced person can ever hope to attain until they exit their vehicle. From my stopped position, I inevitably see the driver in the lane next to me continue past me for at least a half car-length. It is a behavior I watch with dismay as I observe it happening, multiple times each day.
"Why?!" I wonder, often aloud. Why would a person do that? "What is to be gained by blocking the crosswalk?" Does the 9-foot head-start make a difference when the light turns green?
There are a number of traffic rule practices that people in this region simply don't seem to consider applicable to them. The Creep is the most predominant, followed in close second by the blockage of the intersection completely. If memory serves, I was taught that despite a green light, if you can't clear the intersection in front of you, you're not supposed to progress into it. Again, you hold your place at the solid white paint bar behind the crosswalk until you can completely clear the intersection. The average Cleveland driver doesn't seem to comprehend this concept. Even with 2-3 cars sticking into the intersection ahead of them, many a driver feels that they need to join that conga line, and ensure that when the lights change, no car from the cross-traffic will make it through the intersection. "If I can't get through, then neither will you," appears to be the predominant sentiment.
But there's more ... so you're driving along at 35 MPH, in the right-hand lane, and all of a sudden there's a car parked in front of you, about 50-yards away. This has to be illegal, right? Nope.
There aren't shoulders on the surface streets here, so traffic can be a really fu(ked up experience. On your average 2-lane surface street, including busy thoroughfares, parking is usually allowed in the right hand lane. Please note that I said "LANE." Suddenly, you and the people in front or behind you need to stop and merge in to the left lane, but of course the people in that lane don't want to let you in, so you're sitting there with your turn signal on and trying to bully your way in to the clear lane, and traffic gets backed up even more.
In "Annie Hall," Woody Allen said that California's only contribution to culture was allowing a right turn at a red light. At this point, I'm dying for some culture. It makes you want to import LA-style road rage.
Thank goodness I only have a 5-mile commute.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Worth 1000 words and at least 3-4 hours
I may not have the most difficult life. I don't battle famine or drought. I am not an industrialist in a post-industrial world, who is worried about plant closures or outsourcing. I have a pretty reliable paycheck at a job with benefits and decent pay.
At the same time, I gotta say that the online quest for the right photo to use in a layout for a brochure or web site is a real b!tch. Perhaps I'm failing to recognize the wealth of images that are available to me online, and that just 10 years ago I wouldn't have had the easy accessibility that comes with the amazing interwebs.
However, that isn't terribly reassuring when I'm spend hours looking for images that convey the right tone or feeling. I know there are many of you out there who know what I'm talking about, so I ask you to feel my pain, as I search for a baby that's sitting in the right position, or a blue sky with just the right number of fluffy clouds, or a cow in a field that has the right type of black spots on them ... you can commiserate with my quest.
At the same time, I gotta say that the online quest for the right photo to use in a layout for a brochure or web site is a real b!tch. Perhaps I'm failing to recognize the wealth of images that are available to me online, and that just 10 years ago I wouldn't have had the easy accessibility that comes with the amazing interwebs.
However, that isn't terribly reassuring when I'm spend hours looking for images that convey the right tone or feeling. I know there are many of you out there who know what I'm talking about, so I ask you to feel my pain, as I search for a baby that's sitting in the right position, or a blue sky with just the right number of fluffy clouds, or a cow in a field that has the right type of black spots on them ... you can commiserate with my quest.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
The Big Chill
This week was the first time since May that I have had to put on a jacket. Granted, I have only had to put on the Jacket after the sun goes down, nevertheless, it would appear that with the passage of Labor Day, summer is indeed over.
The days are getting shorter, although it's still not dark until about 8 p.m., and it's a revelation for this California (ahem) boy that seasons really do only last a few months.
I have to admit that I'm anticipating winter with some trepidation. It has been my go-to statement thus far, when people ask me how I'm liking Cleveland. I tell them that I have been here since April, and so far it's been pretty good, but they should ask me again in January. This usually elicits a laugh.
It appears that I have about two or three months before my mettle is put to the test by the first snow, but genetically, I should be prepared. Afterall, my people come from Scandinavia and Eastern Europe. And yet, somehow that's not as reassuring as I'd like it to be.
Check with me again in January and I'll let you know how those genetics work out for me. In the mean time, I'll bring a light jacket when I go to the movies tonight.
The days are getting shorter, although it's still not dark until about 8 p.m., and it's a revelation for this California (ahem) boy that seasons really do only last a few months.
I have to admit that I'm anticipating winter with some trepidation. It has been my go-to statement thus far, when people ask me how I'm liking Cleveland. I tell them that I have been here since April, and so far it's been pretty good, but they should ask me again in January. This usually elicits a laugh.
It appears that I have about two or three months before my mettle is put to the test by the first snow, but genetically, I should be prepared. Afterall, my people come from Scandinavia and Eastern Europe. And yet, somehow that's not as reassuring as I'd like it to be.
Check with me again in January and I'll let you know how those genetics work out for me. In the mean time, I'll bring a light jacket when I go to the movies tonight.
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