Happy doing whatever you are doing,
-Michael

Well just because it is January does not mean I am ready for change. So while I am thinking of a normal novel-length entry to bore you with I shall rely on some quick hits in the interim.

- Why does my bottle of water have nutritional information on it? It isn’t flavoured, so there is obviously no sugar on it. Of course it has no nutritional value. And yes, it is NO part of my 2000 calorie daily diet. Also, I bought it at a gas station. The bottle has their logo on it. I really hope they covered a real brand and aren’t just bottling toilet water. Does it really earn them more money in the long run doing this? Can’t they just stock the El Cheapo brand like 7-11 does?

- I was stuck in traffic yesterday when I ended up next to a Prius. It had some obnoxious personalised license plate like “SIP GAS”. I had heard about places where the eco-friendly have really gone overboard and are arrogant about it, but this was truly my first run-in with it. I did my best to ensure that he couldn’t change lanes, but he wasn’t looking to anyway. Hybrids are just another one on the list of vehicles that I reserve the right to drive differently for. I generally try to give some more room to seniors. People with stupid bumper stickers, especially with heavy politicial affiliation? Good luck merging. Texting while driving? Not using a turn signal? Yes that is my fender blocking your progress. Hot girl using turn signal? Please, go ahead. Hot girl who thinks she can merge just because she is hot and got some schmoe to buy her that SUV? I think not. Driving a Camaro? You are always welcome to merge. Try to pass on the right
all the way until the lane ends even though everyone else has been stuck waiting in the proper (left) lane? There is no way in hell I am going to let you in. And if you think for a second that you will win at chicken and I will let you in at the last possible moment, please try again. Remember, I own two clunkers. I will gladly suffer some damage to the side of my beater just to prove a point to you. After all, I have AAA to tow me home, and another clunker in the garage to do it again tomorrow with.

- Speaking of driving, I really enjoy driving in wintry conditions with my big heavy ski gloves on. Even once my hands warm up (the original reason for wearing them), I like to wear them. I am not truly sure why. I would like to say it is because it makes me feel like I am wearing my racing gloves, especially useful when I am sliding around in the snow, but I like to think even I am not that neurotic.
Oh, who am I kidding.

Welcoming you into 2009,
-Michael

That being said, I had a nice ride home to ruminate about this fact. I really do not think that I am of the age or appearance to be lumped in to a Mary Kay gathering. I even thought back to the (male) people that were going into that room. I honestly believe that if you looked at them compared to me, you would choose them first for the good ole Mary Kay soiree. At least God I hope so.

So, I got home and flipped on the TV. There was nothing on so I paged endlessly through the preview guide. It said that Celtic Woman was on PBS. And it was a new special! I settled in and was hypnotised (which is exactly the term the PBS “salesperson” tried to use to get me to purchase an overpriced CD or DVD). I kept trying to leave the TV and I finally did after five songs or so. As I stood up from the TV and the epiphany befell me – Celtic Woman watcher – maybe the hostess was right.

-Emasculatedly yours,
-Michael

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

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

We arrived soon after the gates opened for CCFS, but there still wasn’t much room with sprint car haulers everywhere. Over 50 of the 360′s joined us on the card for this special event. Unfortunately, like last year, the track was a tad rough for our cars. We even saw it after hot laps resulted in a broken clevis. Thankfully DJ of Junior’s Performance Products had a spare (and a spare for the spare) that we could use. A not-so-great heat run meant a 19th place start for the feature. We had worked ourselves up to just outside the top 10 when the rear end gave up the ghost coming off the 2nd turn. The housing itself split in two, from which the resultant motion made some quick work of suspension components in the rear of the car. The season officially concluded with a ride back to the pits on the tow truck. Well, I suppose it truly ended with various hijinx of trying to get the car on and off the trailer.

After stowing the car in the garage, we used Saturday as an opportunity to actually take in some racing (unlike last year). We partook in the events at the Syracuse Fairgrounds for the day, and enjoyed some libations (and peanuts) at the Texas Roadhouse thereafter. It was a good opportunity to discuss plans for next season. Once those are finalised, they will be posted soon thereafter.

Until it is more frigid,
-Michael

This is nothing new, as I have broached this subject previously. But lately I have noticed some patterns. Weds. is the best day to find the sports section in stall three. Thursday is a shoe-in to locate the weekend entertainment section in stall two. The key is to get in, grab it, and move to another stall (after all, it is known that the stall where the reading material is has already been defiled). One day I came up empty in my quest to locate suitable literary work, so I arbitrarily picked a stall. Upon the undertaking of human bio-activities, I noted that there was a small pamphlet on the northern surface of the toilet paper dispenser. My spirits suddenly raised by this unexpected discovery, I gleefully grabbed it and focused my gaze. The cover greeted me with a question that was a bit much for a depository session. “Are you 100% sure?” it asked me, with the YOU being significantly larger. I thought that this was an awfully random question.
“Sure about what?” I pondered. Sure that kids are growing up faster today? Sure that pets are getting fatter too? Sure that Lindsay Lohan is a fauxmosexual? I read on to discover four more questions in the background, of a much smaller font. “Is there a heaven?” “Is there a hell?” “Is there a God?” “Can you know for sure?”

These additional questions served to confound me further, but not for the obvious reason. I got to thinking about which of two possible reasons the pamphlet was in there. Either someone was legitimately reading about this in the bathroom, or someone left it there so that it would be found by the next user. If it was the former, how can you read something like that in there? Is religion not a bit too deep a subject for such activities? I am sorry, but there is something wrong with you if you are reading about the Lord our Saviour while excreting. That being said, I am more confident that it was the latter of the two reasons. I have been handed these pamphlets before at inappropriate times, usually by someone too sheep-like to understand why it is so. Passing on your own agenda is not always “for my own good”, but thanks for playing. That is why I can totally see someone leaving it there for a non-believer to find. But do you honestly think that
someone is going to have an epiphany about their spiritual being while dropping a deuce? Sure you do. Couldn’t you have at least left a pamphlet on McCain-Palin in there instead?

Extramundanely yours,
-Michael

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around

http://mail.yahoo.com

And that is the crux of the problem. Schools have resorted to increasingly sly ways to boost attendance on that day. Actually, they are not sly, because they communicate these things ahead of time to the press. There are drawings for iPods, goody bags (what is this, the Emmy’s?), and one school even had a half day. I am sure a lot got accomplished during that half day too. What lesson does this teach our youth? We are essentially buying their attention. I am confident that, if pressed, schools would say that it is a neccesary evil. Well – then the system is inherently flawed. But nobody has the stones to do anything, because they need the cash. We have relegated our teachers, which should be one of our proudest professions, into being glorified crack whores for a day. I am not a teacher, but it absolutely rips me up inside that this has to be done. I hope that it does the same for them. If it does not, then I will have lost complete faith
in the system.

I think that these visits should be completely unannounced. Why does there have to be so much fanfare ahead of time? All this does is create a bogus, artificial count. I imagine this is obvious to the counters, but why should they care? And that is the problem, noone cares – nor acknowledges – that this is a problem. It is an annual event on the news, appears on countless school electronic boards, and is even on some school calendars. Again, for emphasis, what lesson does this provide to our youth? As I said earlier, we are telling them it is ok to have their attention bought. They do not have to do something for the greater good, when they can hold out for an incentive instead. All it does is reinforce the coddling that kids have become accustomed to. I wonder what the count size would have to be for them to be taught actual and proper life lessons.

Glaringly yours,
-Michael

We will have more details to follow in the days ahead, but for now we are off to prep the car to make another run at the leader board at the Cayuga County Fairgrounds.

You know you have seen their ads on various websites, especially if you follow any forums or blogs. They kind of hang out at the top, bottom, or side of the page and say “sponsored by Google” or something equivalent. Often times these are now “smart ads”, where the advertised content is derived from some reference on the page. I could be discussing the merits of the new Corvette, and an ad will appear for a Chevy dealer. Pretty slick, eh? That is until it screws up. I could be reading about cedar decks, and there will be an ad for Cedar Point. No harm, no foul. I just brush it off, as these missteps happen less and less frequently as the software evolves. Yeah, well, that was only until the other day.

I was perusing a racing forum when the banner ad came up advertising bbwromance.com. If you are familiar with dating parlance, a BBW is a big beautiful woman. I was dumbfounded as to why this was being advertised. I quickly re-read the entire text of the page. Nothing referred to anything large, big, or woman-like, so I chalked it up to an error by the software. But I got to thinking – maybe Google thinks race fans like larger women? Perhaps female race fans are larger? After brushing that off, I then started to sweat. I’ve dated a few chunkers in my day, what if Google is now so intuitive that it can figure out the tendencies of the computer operator?

I got over this Orwellian fear by taking another sip of my sambuca. So, I decided to migrate to Google itself. I typed “BBW Personals” into the box and hit enter (which in retrospect wasn’t a great idea, because now it will appear every time I try to search for something starting with B). Believe it or not, the first page of results yielded 9 separate BBW dating sites. 9? That was staggering to me. Isn’t 9 for larger women overkill and splitting the herd? My interest was piqued at this point so I went to one of the sites. I went looking for a “F” who is between 18 and 35 and lives in Michigan. It yielded 487 results! Let’s say that number is a tad high and use 400 as an average instead. Times 9 sites, that means that there are 3,600 women in this state alone that are looking for love on the Internet – and are using a size-specific dating site. I just cannot wrap my arms around this. I guess they do need lovin’ too, as the expression goes.

Some additional sambuca later I decided to look at a few profiles. There was actually a line in the profile for “size.” This actually made me laugh out loud, primarily because there is no reason for it in the first place (given the intent of the site) but especially because of the delineations that they evidently had to choose from such as “large and lovely”, “curvy”, and “offensive tackle.” Seriously though, I enjoy that the Internet can bring people of varying interests together. There are dating sites for farmers, for Hispanics, for Jews, etc. Heck, many of my honour roll were met via the Internet. And it brought back memories looking at some of the profiles, especially to discover that many elements of the “decoder key” that I developed to read between the lines of a profile were actually true (and still accurate).

The following day I was using a different computer on a different forum. An ad came up for a company that makes custom brasseries – for women sizes 36B to 58J. I suppose I can now delete that e-mail I was going to send to Google.

Off to get another sambuca,
-Michael