Something about being the person who is living your life leaves you oblivious to even the most evident messages.
And by you, I mean me.
Because when he invited himself to go up north with me for Thanksgiving, I didn’t get that that was weird.
But I was the only one.
Relaying the story to others, responses ranged from, “You know he wants to get with you,” to boisterous, nearly malicious laughter.
And the most telling reaction was from the roommate of a friend. A person who externalizes all internal dialog and whose internal dialog will not shut up. A person whose sentences all end with “. . . because I have a girlfriend.” A person so void of any notion of social normalcy that, the morning after, he’ll ask my friend if he heard their loud sex. And if my friend was deaf to his roommate’s expressions of carnal pleasure, the roommate will be sure that the following night, his lusty outcries are noticed. And this roommate, talking to me as if he were wearing pants over his boxer-briefs, sitting ankle on knee, forearm on thigh, confirmed that I was blind to what all others could see.
“Yeah – people have tried to pull that on me – I tell ‘um I’m driving to Arizona – they ask if the can come along. I’m like – 'no.' Gotta watch out for people like that – they’re weird.”
Clarity from the drunk on the corner who speaks in tongues.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Talk About the Weather
The wine snob takes a fine merlot, swirls, sniffs, swills, and remarks, “Fruity – high notes of cherry with an undertone of oak.”
The frat guy takes a gulp. “Hmm – Hell of a lot better than my Beast.”
I am similarly lost when Southern Californians comment on the weather.
Days perfect and rare in Boston to make top execs play hooky are cast aside with distain.
My first days here, I was constantly amazed by temperate climate. During that time, I contacted my department’s student affairs officer to ask if there were any meetings I needed to set up before term began.
In an overzealous effort to apologize for the “hellish heat”, his response included a detailed meteorological lesson on the Santa Ana winds. There was no mention of anything relevant to my question.
I am slowly learning how seasons, frigid mornings, unbearable warmth, and depressing grays can live in the range of 65-75 degrees, mostly sunny to partly cloudy. In a few months, I will become a connoisseur.
The frat guy takes a gulp. “Hmm – Hell of a lot better than my Beast.”
I am similarly lost when Southern Californians comment on the weather.
Days perfect and rare in Boston to make top execs play hooky are cast aside with distain.
My first days here, I was constantly amazed by temperate climate. During that time, I contacted my department’s student affairs officer to ask if there were any meetings I needed to set up before term began.
In an overzealous effort to apologize for the “hellish heat”, his response included a detailed meteorological lesson on the Santa Ana winds. There was no mention of anything relevant to my question.
I am slowly learning how seasons, frigid mornings, unbearable warmth, and depressing grays can live in the range of 65-75 degrees, mostly sunny to partly cloudy. In a few months, I will become a connoisseur.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Joke's Over
According to a CNN exit poll, 7% of the country believes that intelligence is the most important quality in a president. Of those people, 91% voted for John Kerry.
Perfect ammunition for a “Bush is stupid” joke, but I’m not in the mood to laugh.
The Jon Stewart on Crossfire interview was the first indication. He wasn’t trying to be funny, or angry. He was desperate. The hosts didn’t understand: The Daily Show mocks the system, but they make a mockery of it.
Mom and Dad can’t have an intelligent discussion when little Sally keeps yelling, “Mommy your nose is too big,” and Billy is saying, “Daddy your teeth are ugly.”
But I may be giving America too much credit assuming that those fifty-two percent are unformed.
At the end of his election special, Jon Stewart held a stack of eleven cards in his hand, each listing a state that had voted on a gay marriage ban that night.
“Georgia – yep.
Montana – sure.
North Dakota – yep.”
He looked defeated.
“Oklahoma – of course.
Arkansas – why not.
Kentucky – absolutely.
Michigan – affirmative.”
He continued to toss the cards across his desk, the final few slid off onto the floor.
“Utah – yep.
Mississippi – yes.
Ohio – yep.
And lastly, Oregon – yes.”
The voters have spoken. And it’s not funny.
Perfect ammunition for a “Bush is stupid” joke, but I’m not in the mood to laugh.
The Jon Stewart on Crossfire interview was the first indication. He wasn’t trying to be funny, or angry. He was desperate. The hosts didn’t understand: The Daily Show mocks the system, but they make a mockery of it.
Mom and Dad can’t have an intelligent discussion when little Sally keeps yelling, “Mommy your nose is too big,” and Billy is saying, “Daddy your teeth are ugly.”
But I may be giving America too much credit assuming that those fifty-two percent are unformed.
At the end of his election special, Jon Stewart held a stack of eleven cards in his hand, each listing a state that had voted on a gay marriage ban that night.
“Georgia – yep.
Montana – sure.
North Dakota – yep.”
He looked defeated.
“Oklahoma – of course.
Arkansas – why not.
Kentucky – absolutely.
Michigan – affirmative.”
He continued to toss the cards across his desk, the final few slid off onto the floor.
“Utah – yep.
Mississippi – yes.
Ohio – yep.
And lastly, Oregon – yes.”
The voters have spoken. And it’s not funny.
Monday, November 01, 2004
The Drive By
Mamma always warned me about those biochemists.
It was a Friday night and I was hanging out with a friend. The two of us were engrossed in a conversation about movies, sports, relationships or something equally benign.
“. . . amino acid. . .”
We turned.
“. . . and the REALLY interesting thing about it is that it’s a transcriptional regulatory co-factor that’s comprised entirely of beta sheets not a single alpha helix. The thing that I don’t understand though is that in the 157 position there’s a tryptophan. TRYPTOPHAN!! I mean tryptophan is huge and you would think that its removal would destroy the functionality of the protein. Tryptophan is the one with all of the overlapping pi orbitals and then you can draw all of the resonance structures. And it has a nitrogen atom; I think that the electron pair in the nitrogen atom, well whether you have an electron pair there depends on the pH of the solution. Anyway, I need to get back to work.”
The room was silent and the two of us were again alone.
We weren’t quite sure what happened, but we were left with full color handouts and notes were scrawled on the wall.
Drive by seminar.
It was a Friday night and I was hanging out with a friend. The two of us were engrossed in a conversation about movies, sports, relationships or something equally benign.
“. . . amino acid. . .”
We turned.
“. . . and the REALLY interesting thing about it is that it’s a transcriptional regulatory co-factor that’s comprised entirely of beta sheets not a single alpha helix. The thing that I don’t understand though is that in the 157 position there’s a tryptophan. TRYPTOPHAN!! I mean tryptophan is huge and you would think that its removal would destroy the functionality of the protein. Tryptophan is the one with all of the overlapping pi orbitals and then you can draw all of the resonance structures. And it has a nitrogen atom; I think that the electron pair in the nitrogen atom, well whether you have an electron pair there depends on the pH of the solution. Anyway, I need to get back to work.”
The room was silent and the two of us were again alone.
We weren’t quite sure what happened, but we were left with full color handouts and notes were scrawled on the wall.
Drive by seminar.
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