Open All Night

My dad enjoyed entertaining youngsters by using “nonsense” expressions. One of them was “brown cow - moo!” I imagine it was a derivative of some sort, originating from the “how now brown cow” phrase that is used in elocution teaching (if I believe what Wikipedia tells me). Regardless, I cannot help but think of him as I shake my head while looking at this monstrosity of an outfit I put together today.

As I look down I notice that I am wearing what appears to be 5 separate shades of brown. It is not the first time I have faced this dilemma. It appears to occur every time a certain shirt comes up in the cycle to be worn. It is just above the “sunshine yellow” shirt from Express that is fancy but also see through and does not allow me to wear a racing t-shirt underneath like normal. Anyway, this brown shirt is a nice soft material. I tried to see what material it is, but I can’t crane my neck that far and I am not exactly about to take my shirt off to find out. It is brown, but not as brown as when it was brand new. Many washings have started to take its toll. I usually couple it with a pair of light khakis. No harm no foul, except the fact that the khakis really have seen better days. Besides fraying at the pockets and cuffs, it has shrunk and constantly pulls up exposing my ankles when my old socks that are sans elastic fall down. I have
vowed not to wear them again, at least not until I am out of clean clothes, especially now that it is cold and I despise the “ankle-breeze.” That leaves me with my two pair of “brown” pants (both between khaki and brown) and a pair of green. I hate the green. I can never figure out a shirt that matches. It seemed like a great idea when I got them, but then I never wear them. You think I would have learned from the last pair that I threw out, for the very reason that they never got worn. Thus, the light brown got the nod.

They are fine pants themselves, but are basically the same colour as the faded brown shirt. But they are not close enough, in my opinion. Throw in my belt (kind of a reddish brown), my socks (they are the dark brown my shirt used to be), and my shoes (used to be brown akin to my belt, but now are the colour “scuffed”) and I just look like a freakin’ fudgesicle. The Italian brown hair and eyes are not helping. All in all, I try to tell myself that I do not really care. It bugs me during the day, and then I still put on the same outfit weeks later. I think I am just dwelling on it today because fudgesicles were on sale at the store this week and I did not buy any. What the hell was I thinking?

Burnt sienna and proud,
-Michael

Us enginerds are a sturdy lot. We can make the most out of the shoes for a long time. We can work the polo shirt we first debuted in 1996. And, with few exceptions, we eschew the need to odoriferise with anything other than fresh soap. This leaves the building generally smelling neutral. It does not have the rampant funk that might exist in our garage (nor in our rental car after 10 hours, an Arby-Q, and a bag of Teriyaki beef jerky). However, it does not smell artificially enhanced by colognes and the like. It used to be that way throughout the whole building. The first floor is now free of this odor-neutrality.

You see, Purchasing moved in. The folks in Purchasing both know how to, and choose to, dress better. The men are overt metrosexuals. The women exhibit fashions from years that begin with the number 2. It is a different dynamic. It truly reminds me of when we had Engineering classes in the Business building while in college. I would go in wearing whatever grungy outfit was available. It wasn’t always clean either, depending on when I had last departed the machine shop. My compatriots were not much better. But the Business students, they had on button-down shirts, their hair was coiffed by something other than their pillowcase or the arm of the couch. I digress. Purchasing splits the Engineering area from the CAD area. The CAD area is another bastion of simple smells and thus provides comfort.

Well, initially when Purchasing settled in I was unnerved. I hesitated to cut through the centre of their cubicle fortress. I would retreat to the periphery and walk further to get to the CAD department. One day I finally caved. You see, due to the floor layout and previous building expansions, one wall of the Purchasing area is an actual wall despite the fact there are merely cubicles on the other side. I ducked in out of the main hallway through one of the doorways in an effort to shave some steps off my trip. I was immediately bombarded by odors I had not encountered in the building. I steadied myself against a cubicle wall and diverted the schnozz upwards while sniffing heartily. It smelled like a Bath and Body Works! There is no way that this could be near Engineering. I held my breath and hurried out of there, hoping that none of the Buyers would smell me as an infiltrator.

Over time I more often cut through there. It was not to save my feet, but so much as to encounter the smells. I found that I smiled every time I went through there. It was that pervasive. The description of this cloister can only be one thing - Engineeromatherapy. It is nothing in particular, but an aggregate smell that causes left-brained lugs to become placid. Now if you excuse me, it is time for my Exacto knife manicure (hey - a boy can’t let all of himself disappear).

Smellin’ the dream,
-Michael

It seemed like the season had barely begun, but the 2nd week of October indicated that the offseason was upon us. This was the second Super Dirt Week that we had participated in. SDW last year was aggressive, with three races in three days. This year was a bit more tame, with only two on the docket. Much like last year, it was Brewerton Speedway on Thursday night, and Cayuga County Fair Speedway on Friday night.
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