Dennis' Soap Box
Am I arrogant? I was told recently that I'm arrogant. Maybe some people would just take this in stride and would not be bothered, but it bothered me. In the past I've been told I'm a "know-it-all", that I'm "confident", I've even been called an ass hole and I've not as much as blinked. That's because I'm confident that I do know a lot of things and I've actually heard myself say things to people that immediately upon hearing it come out of my mouth, I've said to myself: "Dennis you're an ass hole". But, now I've been called arrogant.
I've never associated a positive undertone with the word arrogant, but to make sure I looked it up...hey, maybe there's some positive spin I can put on this event. Well, no. There's no positive connotation when it comes to the word arrogant; for instance synonyms are
conceited, egotistical, bigheaded, condescending, and supercilious...I didn't even know there was a word supercilious.
I've never seen myself as any of these things, so I asked my wife and family, who all happened to be at my house last night for dinner (celebrating St. Patrick's Day...we're of Irish heritage). As things often happen in one's life, my family calmly stood in front of me and agreed that I am arrogant. I was to find that the basis of this calm decision is my apparant know-it-all attitude. So, my question to them was, if being a know-it-all is such a bad thing, then why does everyone ask me about how things work, about how to do things, etc. I mean everyone. Even my wife's friends call the house to get my opinion on how to, for instance, select a contractor to install a new furnace or what kind of animal would eat through a garbage can lid or what kind of wine goes good with chicken marsala, etc.
I suppose I have to accept that fact that
I'm arrogant, but that doesn't make it easier to swallow.
Just a couple of gripes today:
Toilet Paper and
Windshield Wipers. Both items are, of course, necessary. So, for the love of God, Allah or the Great Pumpkin would someone please tell me why people leave a bathroom with no toilet paper in it. Is it too much to ask for everyone to be considerate enough to refill the toilet paper or make sure the person who can refill the toilet paper does. I believe its quite possibly one of
life's biggest disappointments to go into a bathroom all ready to do ones business only to find there's none of the necessary paper to finish the job.
Now, about
Windshield Wipers. In my part of the world, most of the day has been filled with snow, sleet, and rain. This all had to happen on a day I had to drive to a meeting, which under normal circumstances would take about a half hour. Today it took an hour and all I was wishing for was at least one good wipe from my windshield wiper. When will someone find the time to actually invent a good, none clogging, none streaking, none squeaking, windshield wiper. I've tried single blades, teflon coated blades, triple-ribbed blades, double blades (that's what I using currently), but none work well enough to be called "good" and why is it the big blurry, streaky, mess always has to be right, smack in front of the drivers face. Maybe its my call in life to invent the perfect windshield wiper. I'll have to say something to the Great Pumpkin tonight before I lay my head to rest.
Ok, I've worked up a gripe:
Hockey. Of course, it's not the game of hockey. It's the current issue about the
Bertuzzi cheap shot that resulted in Colorado's Steve Moore broken neck. To quote
ROCHELLE RILEY of the Detroit Free Press: "Why isn't he in jail?"
This Bertuzzi guy gets
suspended for the season for intentionally attaching another man. I'm not an avid watcher of Hockey, but by the power of the Internet, I've been privy to watching the scene and its clear that Bertuzzi viciously attacked Moore from behind. This was no accident, nor was it some sort of mutually agressive fight. If you or I did this and were caught on tape, we'd be awaiting our prison sentence or at least working with an attorney on some plea bargain. Bertuzzi should be brought on charges now and NOT by the NHL, but by the local law enforcement agency!
No Gripe. I feel all griped out right now. My weekend was ok. It started off on a bad note. My youngest son, John, had a 103.5 fever Friday night and had a low grade fever (about 100) for most of the day on Sat. This was after a week of taking care of my eldest son, who was suffering the effects of some nasty stomach virus that had his insides coming out both ends with equal force. My wife and I were supposed to go to a 40th birthday party for an old friend of hers, but we had to cancel. I told her she could go without me, but she didn't want to go alone.
Then on Sunday I worked on the Master Bathroom. We're having it renovated, but to keep the cost down, I'm gutting and rewiring it. I don't know who the lamebrain was that wired my house, but he was either mentally challenged or had some sort of psychosis that made him wire my house in a manner that is bordering on dangerous, let alone inexplicable. So, I was pretty busy and right now I feel like an old man. With all the crawling around in my attic and running up and down the stairs, my back and knees are killing me. I have to start exercising again. I used to (read before kids) ride my bicycle every day for at least 20 miles. My standing heart rate hovered around 50. It's probably hovering around 80 right now.
I'll probably write something witty later. I need another cup of coffee.
I've got two things to gripe about today:
the traffic signal - glove compartment conspiracy and
gasoline. Now, you have to realize that with the exception of the automobile, neither has anything to do with the other. That said, let's review the
the traffic signal - glove compartment conspiracy. It's become apparent to me during the course of my time as a license (and perhaps unlicensed) automobile driver, that there is an inherent correlation between the speed at which a traffic signal changes from red to green and the need for one to find and retrieve something from one's glove compartment. I put to you that the automobile manufacturing industry has conspired with someone (I haven't quite figured out who yet) to place a device inside your automobile that once the glove compartment is opened a signal is sent out that automatically decreases the time a traffic signal will remain red. I can find no other reason why I can not retrieve anything from my glove compartment without pulling over to the side of the road. AHAH! That's it, the automobile industry has conspired with fast food industry in the hopes that people will opt to pull over for a quick bite while searching for the dry cleaner's business card!
Whew, I feel better. Nothing like putting a conspiracy to rest to make one feel alive. OK, now for my next gripe:
gasoline.
Don't get me wrong. Its not really gasoline that I have a gripe with. Its the U.S.'s almost complete reliance on it as a fuel that bugs me. Here we have a fuel that the U.S. is the major user of that we can't in any substantial quantity produce. This leaves us vulnerable to whims of other countries who can produce it. We do, however, have another source of fuel here that I firmly believe that we could produce in a quantity that no other country could touch:
ethanol. I've done my research on this and it seems almost a "no brainer". I can't go into every detail, but here is what I've got:
Ethanol is produced from grain (mainly corn) and has an octane level almost equal to that of gasoline. It may not produce as much horsepower, but I figure that's all relative anyway. So, since ethanol is produced from grain and the U.S. is the number one producer of grain in the world, doesn't it seem a waste that much of our grain goes wasted. In addition, the U.S. government subsidizes farmers to NOT grow grain so that even more is not wasted. Now, lets review my facts: (1) gasoline can't be produced by the U.S. in a sufficient quantity to meet our needs; (2) our continued use makes us vulnerable to other countries products and policies; (3) ethanol can be produced by the U.S. at sufficient quantities to make it a product that could be exported to our allies; (4) farmers are subsidized to reduce the amount of grain they grow. There is also another factor here that comes into play: the U.S. has a severe unemployment issue.
My proposal to our government: (1) introduce a policy that takes us away from gasoline and towards ethanol; (2) eliminate our dependence on other countries for fuel; (3) stop subsidizing farmers to NOT grow grain and instead create a market that exceeds their production capabilities; and (4) subsidize the construction of ethanol manufacturing plants and the rehabilitation of "gasoline service stations" into "fuel service stations". The last two issues should be something to address the unemployment issue.
Well, my fingers are tired. I hope your eyes aren't.
After hearing a commentary on
NPR, I visited a very interesting web page by writer
Paul Ford. It's called
F Train and is worth a look or two.
Well, it happened! I woke up this morning with
Lyle Lovett's hair. Which means I've got to call Tonia and make an appointment. With the exception of one time this past year, Tonia has been the only person to cut my hair for the past twenty years. It's almost scary.
I'll write more later. I'm still formulating my gripe about
gasoline.
OK, this will be the last entry about
Jury Duty and then I'll get back to my normal griping. It's odd how things happen and how you feel afterward. For two arduous weeks I drove an hour from my home to sit in a Jury Box with eight other happy souls. Then after listening to endless dribble about issues I don't give a hoot about, the nine Jurors deliberated for two hours and pronounced our decision. We then all parted ways and were accompanied by a
U.S. Marshall to the parking lot to ensure that no one spoke to us about the case. Now, I'm back to work and I find myself missing these eight other people whose last names I never got.
So, to Paul, Phil, Joyce, Kathleen, Tracy, Rebecca, Mike, and Ron I say it was a pleasure meeting you all and to each in particular I say:
Paul - good luck at work and I hope the software install went alright in your absence.
Phil - enjoy your retirement.
Joyce - I hope you can find your desk after not being at work for so long and having no one to cover for you.
Kathleen - I'm sorry if I pissed you off, when I didn't want to find the defendent guilty of insider trading.
Tracy - It was an absolute pleasure looking at you every day. You're a beautiful and pleasant girl and tell your fiance' that he's a lucky guy.
Rebecca - I think the whole experience of jury duty would have been complete torture if it weren't for your sunshiney attitude...Thanks! Oh, and good luck on your camping trip to TN.
Mike - I hope all is well at the shop. You have one of the most interesting jobs I've ever heard of.
Ron - Good luck in retirement.
Best wishes to all.
DH
QUICK JOKE
My neighbor found out her dog could hardly hear so she took it to the veterinarian. He found the problem was hair in it's ears and cleaned both ears and the dog could hear fine.
The vet told the lady if she wanted to keep this from reoccurring she should go to the store and get some 'Nair" hair remover and rub in it's ears once a month.
The lady goes to the drug store and gets some "Nair" hair remover.
At the register the druggist tells her "If you're going to use this under your arms don't use deodorant for a few days."
The lady says "I'm not using it under my arms."
The druggist says "If you're using it on your legs don't shave for a couple days."
The lady says "I'm not using it on my legs either, and if you must know I'm using it on my schnauzer."
The druggist says "Stay off your bicycle for a week."
Well, it's over.
Jury Duty ended yesterday with me, as Foreman, telling the Judge that we found the defendent
guilty on all counts. Although, I had been the one last week telling everyone that I was tired and didn't care about the case, the defendent, the judge or, for that matter, my fellow jurors, I was the one the held up the deliberation process because I didn't feel the prosecution provided enough evidence the find the defendent guilty of
insider trading. At one point one of the other jurors actually started yelling at me! So, it took a while for them to convince me but in the end he was found guilty on all charges. This bothered me a bit and as a result, I didn't sleep all that well. I kept thinking that our predisposition that he was guilty was based entirely on the method by which the prosecution told its version of the story as compared to the method by which the defense to it. Last week, I actually told the court clerk that I couldn't speak for the entire group, but that I had serious concerns about whether the defendent was being represented adequately.
So, I'm back in my office trying to dig my way through the three tons of paperwork that has piled up. This is even with me coming to work each evening after Jury Duty. I'm still determined to develop my "get out of Jury Duty" system, but in the interim I'd better get back to work before they fire me.
On the lighter side of life, I found another blog of interest:
Aged and Confused. This chick is funny!
I'm tired. Today was day 10 of
Jury Duty and I'm bone weary. I can't take sitting for hours on end especially in those chairs. But, there's light at the end of the tunnel. Today both parties completed their testimonies. Now, all we have to hear is the
Judges briefing on the law and each council's closing arguments. Then we break for lunch and deliberate. I joked that it will take me four minutes and that includes a break to relieve myself. All seemed to agree, but you never know about those quiet people in the group...
Anyway, there's light at the end of the tunnel. We, the
Jury that is, decided to erase all the nasty things we wrote on the chalk board they provide you in the Jury Room. So, we bid farewell to our rendition of nails being driven into coffins, sad faces, expletive remarks about the mental capacity of the defense attorney, etc. We all parted for the weekend in the hopes that Monday will surely be the last day of this torture.
I believe I've come up with a sound method of ensuring I never have to be part of a Jury again. I'm not kidding. It takes a bit of research to do it, but it should work. I have to put more time into the research. I tried searching the Internet to see if anyone has come up with a sound method, but everywhere you look people just write in that all one has to do is act insane. This may get you out of Jury Duty, but may also get you committed to some time at the funny farm. So, I recommend against it. Mine method has to do with knowing what the case is about. If you know anything about a case, you can't be a juror. I would be interested to know if anyone would pay for this service.
Well, like I said, I'm tired. I'm going home now. But, before I go, I want to apologize to anyone I may have offended with my comment about the expert witness who stutters. Your Honor, I plead temporary insanity.
The saga continues. Today is day 8 of
Jury Duty. Yesterday, after spending the day listening to two hours of the prosecution finishing up their questioning of the defendant and six hours listening a rather idiotic defense attorney going off on one tangent after another, the
Judge stated he would like council (that's the attorneys on both sides) to "speed things up" and he asked the Jury if we wouldn't mind starting a half hour earlier (8:30 instead of 9:AM) and end a half hour later (5:30 instead of 5:PM). This way he could ensure us that we would be done with this mess [he actually didn't refer to it like that] by Friday. We, of course, all agreed because no one (not even the girl who started off last week by telling us all that she hates her job) wants to spend one moment more than is required to end it.
So, today starts and guess who isn't there at 8:30...go ahead guess...I'll give you a moment...ok, I'll tell you: the
Judge. It seems the Judge's prized bulldog gave birth to a litter of puppies last week and one of the pups became very ill. So, he had to rush the pup to the Vet this morning for treatment. This touching event resulted in court being delayed until 11:AM. Now, don't get me wrong, I love dogs, but right now I couldn't care less if someone taught the litter bugger to fly out the back window at the first sign of a sniffle. In the interim, the
Jury spent their time discussing current events and other inane cowplop and, of course, the case, which we were told not to discuss. All seem to agree with me, that the defendant is a crook and all had wished they had come up with better excuses to get out of Jury Duty.
Before I showed up for the selection process, one of my friends had told me to claim I was a
White Supremist Nazi and tell the court that I hate everyone except the master race. I, of course, didn't do that and tried my best to tell them how indispensable I am at work and that I know so much about everything that I couldn't possibly be a good jurist...did I tell you I was the first jurist picked to serve and have subsequently been elected Foreman? So much for my plea. Kind of makes me wish I had shaved my head and got a swastika tattooed on my forehead for the occasion.
Today, the
Judge told us all that he has no way of estimating how long the case (I think he really wanted to say "this bullsh-t") is going to take and that we may be in court into next week. Oh joy! Oh rapture! I think I'm going insane...someone pass me the
methaqualone.
Today is day 7 of
Jury Duty, but the jury doesn't have to show up until noon so the Judge can select a jury for another case. Yesterday was brutal. The Prosecuting Attorney called the defendant to testify. The whole jury had hoped this would raise the interest level a bit, but it only proved to be another day of absurd dialogue. Let me share with you an example of what I and the rest of the jury had to endure. Of course I have to change the context, but I think you'll get the picture:
Prosecuting Attorney: "Mr. Smith [not his real name] is it true you let the cat out of the bag?"
Defendant: "I'm not sure that's absolutely true."
Prosecuting Attorney: "Please turn to page 109 of your Deposition Testimony given on January 5, 2000."
[pages flipping]
Defense Attorney [who is so disorganized I'm amazed he can find his chair]: "Please wait while I locate the document."
Prosecuting Attorney [to Defendant]: "Got it?"
Defendant: "Yes."
Prosecuting Attorney [to Defense Attorney]: "Got it?"
Defense Attorney: "Please give me a minute...oh, wait, I've got it. Can I have a line reference?"
Prosecuting Attorney: "Line 24. Let me read it. Question: Mr. Smith, did you let the cat out of the bag?" Answer: Yes. Mr. Smith, was that question asked and was that your answer?"
Defendant: "Yes."
Prosecuting Attorney: "Thank you. Now, Mr. Smith is it true you painted the house yellow?"
Defendant: "I don't think so."
Prosecuting Attorney: "Please turn to page 111 of your Deposition Testimony given on January 5, 2000."
[pages flipping again]
Defense Attorney: "Please wait while I locate the document."
Prosecuting Attorney [to Defendant]: "Got it?"
Defendant: "Yes."
Prosecuting Attorney [to Defense Attorney]: "Got it?"
Defense Attorney: "Yes. Can I have a line reference?"
Prosecuting Attorney: "Line 2..."
The whole day went like this. It was a never ending circle jerk. My back hurts, my butts asleep, my brain is screaming to go back to work, and my compadres are suicidal. I hope this ends soon...real soon.
I'm still working on my gripes for next week.
