Brady’s Blog

did you know people are still living in cubicles?

i was onsite today and had the pleasure of experiencing this sad existence first hand, if only for an hour or two..

the real selling point of the cubicle for me is the way it offers complete isolation combined with an utter lack of privacy..

you can’t see anyone or interact with them other than yelling over the top of your cage, yet you have the sense that they can see and hear everything you do..

it’s really great..
i recommend it to all the people i hate..

it’s also really efficient - in your average cube farm of 1000 cube-dwellers you’ll have 500 using space heaters and 500 running fans all the time.. pure genius..

of course, i’m struggling to finish typing this because i’m sitting in a 61 degree server room.. so.. ya know..

we now rejoin Dumb Things Cracker has Done, already in progress..

this has probably been 9 or 10 years ago by now..
i know my hair was very long (if you’re thinking “fireworks + long hair = bad”, you’re right)
we were out at the lake.. bull shoals.. my folks used to have a boat dock up there..

we were all out there on the 4th of july one year.. i had spent an inordinate amount of money on fireworks and was putting on a little show right there on the dock.. shooting bottle rockets out into the water through a tube - very cool, throwing big firecrackers out into the lake, then moving on to larger, airborne projectiles, etc..

the larger fireworks consisted of a large ball that one would light and then drop down into a cardboard tube which rested on a plastic base.. some of these are remarkably powerful and make for a pretty good do-it-yourself small fireworks show..

once i fired a few, however, i noticed the wind was blowing the debris right back onto the dock where everyone was sitting.. so.. i started holding the cardboard tube as i lit each one, tilting it out slightly to point it away from the dock while keeping one edge of the base firmly on the rail of the dock..

what i didn’t notice was the fact that each time i fired off a round in this manner, the down force from the explosion was slowly removing the plastic base from the cardboard tube..

this finally resulted in a nice cracker-as-a-christmas-tree finale to the show when the bottom of the tube blew completely away and left the live firework exploding directly in front of me..

my hair caught fire just enough to really stink.. and my shirt ended up with a lot of holes in it.. other than that, i was quite lucky to escape unharmed..

i’m pretty sure i used some language at the moment of the explosion that the young kids who were gathered around did not need to hear..

i still play with fireworks every year though i’m not really allowed to buy anything very big..

you would think something like that would teach me a lesson.. but.. it didn’t.. not really..
one of the upsides of not being very bright is the fact that you get to enjoy things over and over again long after smart people have stopped doing them just to save their own silly little lives..

if you’re having a feud with the neighbor’s cat, do NOT - i repeat do NOT leave your jeep parked outside overnight with the top off..

now if you do this, and the cat in question is a run of the mill everyday demon spawn, then he’ll probably poop in your jeep..

but what kind of pit of hell, satan smooching, blood for breakfast, downright pitch black evil feline does it take to not only poop in a man’s vehicle, but take the time and employ the agility, patience and skill to round one out in the cupholder!!??

if i thought the insurance would cover it, i’d booby-trap the thing.. or poopy-trap it i guess would be better..

ya know.. i bet all these car bombs in iraq have nothing to do with ‘insurgency’ or whatever..
i bet they just have a lot of cats there..

the jeep is fixed..
i had actually done all the water pump stuff correctly but i pushed the top radiator hose on too hard and it was up over the stop lip, allowing coolant out..
5 minute fix once a real mechanic looked at it..

so.. bottom line is this:
i’m not a very good mechanic.. but maybe not as bad as i thought i was.. or worse.. depending on how you look at it..

if someone calls you from the border, does that make you a border callee?

i started to write a post about my days as a waiter/bartender..
i quickly realized there’s way too much to cram into one post..
all the crazy stories and strange people started coming back to me..
my first day on the job.. all the different places.. the terrible customers.. the many ways i got fired or quit all the different jobs.. it’s just too much..

so.. we’ll save some of that stuff for later..

this post will just be a list of the pranks i pulled and the various mean things i did to people while doing time in the restaurant world:

1. Burned parmesan cheese on the tortilla press to make the whole restaurant smell like puke - chili’s
2. Burned cherries on the tortilla press to cover up puke parmesan smell - chili’s
3. Hid in coat closet and jumped out at people carrying trays of food - chili’s
4. Pulled people’s apron strings as they were standing at tables to make their aprons fall off - everywhere
5. Threw ice in the fryer to make hot grease splash all over the cooks - everywhere
6. Told mrs cracker (she was waiting tables also - before she was mrs cracker) that the crazy dishwasher guy needed to talk to her about something when he didn’t - chili’s
7. Made a drink called the ‘l.a. freeway’ which was prepared by emptying the bar mat into a glass at the end of the night - and charged people for it - chilis, bennigans
8. Complied with requests to take 50th anniversary pictures of people and then purposely cut their heads off in the photos - everywhere but mostly candlestick inn
9. Ignored any and all requests regarding food allergies, etc unless it was something big enough to see - everywhere
10. Filled a glass with the water that the hard-boiled eggs came in, put a lemon wheel on it and had other waiters taste the ‘lemonade’ to see if they thought it tasted funny - chilis
11. Covered the sinks in the bar with plastic wrap so the morning bartender would turn on the water and get soaked - mcguffey’s, chili’s, bennigan’s
12. Told pretty much every table i ever waited on that it was my first day waiting tables (you’d be amazed what this does for tips) - everywhere

that’s all i can think of for now..
i’ll try to take notes as some of these come back to me..
i’m sure mrs cracker will remind me of a few when she reads this..

one of the great regrets in my life is a picture i didn’t take..

we were in central park - october, 2002

we had been in manhattan for a couple of days on vacation - sight-seeing, eating.. good times..

we decided we’d go down to the park and watch the end of the marathon - i was going to run in the marathon but we thought my first heart attack should take place closer to home..

so we hung around the park for a while, then started making our way toward the finish line..

i should pause here long enough to say that my failure to photograph the event i’m about to describe has left me with no hard evidence at all of its actually having taken place despite my efforts to find some corroborating account from the dozens of other witnesses on the scene at the time.. mrs. cracker saw it too.. but as we know from her murder trial, she’s terrible on the stand.. so.. you’re just gonna have to believe me..
i’d also love to be able to identify the poor fellow in question but all i can tell you is he was a skinny african guy - at a marathon.. imagine that..

back to it - we’re making our way to the finish line.. about a mile from the finish line one of the runners takes a hard left from the pathway which makes up this part of the racetrack - he just darts left - off the track and into central park..

if he had been a little farther back in the pack, it might have been less noticeable but he was very near the lead - we estimated somewhere between 5th and 15th - at this time.. we had no real way of knowing since we had just walked up to the pathway - we just knew there were very few that had already passed through there..

so off the track he goes - people are yelling at him: “no!! wrong way!! wait!!” - and then they stop yelling.. because it becomes abundantly clear to them all that he knows exactly where the racetrack is but has suddenly become concerned with something even more organic and natural than the driving ambition to win a marathon.. he has to poop..

he bolts from the track about 30 feet to the nearest large rock and makes one of the all-time great split decisions in history..
with jeter-like mental agility, he decides, in the instant that he has for such a determination,
that rather than turning his back to the rock and facing the now very attentive group of onlookers, he’s better off to face the rock and let the rubberneckers have it.. all of it..

and he does..

and he may not have won the race that day but he set a world record in the outdoor speed-dumping event..

i wish i could say it happened so fast that there was no chance i could have snapped a shot.. but that’s just not the case.. i had the camera out and on - i was taking pictures.. but for once my sense of decency stopped me - like a guard standing at the door saying: “now boss, you told me not to let you in there no matter what you say..”

so i just held the camera.. and then it was over.. and i knew instantly that i had failed..

i had been handed one of those gifts that you get in life..
life said: “here ya go cracker, here’s a free photo-op of a skinny african taking a dump in central park during the new york city marathon”
and i said: “ah.. not today.. better not.. that would be kinda rude.. maybe next time..”

i’m sure the runner in this story doesn’t consider this his greatest moment either.. and if he’s mentioned it on his blog, i can’t find it.. but at least he can enter the race again.. he’ll get another shot..

me? i came in dead last..
and i’ll never get to run again..

language is a funny thing..
i’ve always enjoyed it.. the nuance.. the sounds.. impersonations.. voices..

the spoken word is such a powerful medium..
think of lincoln.. no-one alive today has ever heard his voice but we know what a powerful (if unorthodox) orator he was.. he changed the world by simply saying things..

one of the most powerful things you can do verbally is to curse..
kids find this out quickly.. because they get a reaction when they say something bad.. and that registers immediately as a source of shock value..

i figured this out pretty early myself..
my primary goal in life has always been to make people laugh - i found one of the easiest ways to do this in kidville was to string a few sharp phrases together - say things that make them look around to see if any adults heard it..

because if adults hear you cussing.. you’re in big trouble..
and as an adult.. you find out - if kids hear you cussing.. you’re in even BIGGER trouble..

nice system.. mostly it’s designed to protect the ears of the ladies, be they old or young - if you want proof of this, hang out with some males age 14 to 50.. members of all age groups will say things they would never let the others hear if they thought a female proxy might pick up the signal..

as you grow up, you learn to manage this arrangement of multiple language sets..
but as a kid.. you might not be as skilled at this..

i was about 16 i guess.. we had a ton of people at our house - friends, relatives, a bunch of people - not uncommon at our house.. everyone just hanging out.. watching one of those skiing shows they show on saturday afternoons - people jumping out of helicopters onto the slopes, etc..

i had been hanging around with my friends all day.. liberally engaging in the lesser of the two aforementioned language sets..

and we walk in, and there’s all these people.. i look up at the tv as we enter and see some guy jump off a cliff about 8 stories high into a snow bank - and i say something to the effect of: “dude.. that guy is ****ing.. er.. i mean.. that dude is FLYing..”

at this point you can hear a loud turntable screeeeetch as everyone turns and just stares at me for what seemed like 20 minutes.. nothing like making an entrance..

another time.. i was younger.. i’d say 10 or so..
i was mowing the yard - hardest thing in the world had to be getting me to mow the yard.. i hated it.. easier to get hitler to throw a bar mitzvah that to get me to mow..

so.. i’m mowing.. and in my ignorance i assume that since the sound of the mower is very loud to me.. it’s very loud to everyone.. so as i’m mowing, i’m screaming at the top of my lungs every bad word i can think of.. in anger.. thinking no-one can hear..
about that time, mom comes out (probably to see what axe murderer is screaming obscenities in her front yard)

i make a turn at the end of the yard and come back toward the house and the miracle of volume by proximity is revealed to me instantly by the expression on her face.. i think “oh my.. i think she can hear me..”

i wish there were only two stories about my mouth getting me in trouble like this..
we’ll save the others for later..

i wonder if anything like that ever happened to lincoln.. that would be a lot more interesting story than the walk 5 miles to return a nickle business..

i was up past 2:30 this morning working on the jeep..
should have taken about 2 hours but i like to go slow, take my time, and make every possible mistake at least once.. that way.. you really feel like you’ve done something..

one of my favorite mistakes i made looking back on this job is the part where i failed to put silicone on the threads of the bolts which i think is why the new pump is leaking just like the old pump.. ok.. not as bad as the old pump.. but there is a leak somewhere.. dripping pretty steady off and on..

so.. i’m goin back tonite to pull the fan and the serpentine belt and hopefully just pull each of the water pump bolts out one at a time to put some sealant on them..

then.. after that.. when it’s still leaking, i’ll be good and ready to give up and let a smart person fix it..

i don’t pride myself on being a great mechanic but i do pride myself on being ridiculously stubborn.. combine that with the ability to synthesize just the right blend of profanity and fervent supplication and you can do just about anything..

i took a light swing at the local newspaper here..
but as we all know, the absolute worst possible kind of “journalism” in the world is local television news..
if you happen to live in a larger market.. say dallas or chicago or miami.. then you have some good-looking on-air talent, real producers and directors, and a decent all around end product.. sure they’re gonna have the occasional messed up chyron or accidental open mic, but overall, it’s watchable..

small market tv news, on the other hand, is decidedly unwatchable..

typically, here’s what you get:
they lead in with seinfeld or something because they know that 70% of the people who watch the local news do so only because they cannot find the remote..
the other 30% is made up of those who are either over 90, dating or related to the anchor, tuning in just for the train wreck factor, or a combination of some or all of these things..

so seinfeld ends… you get 3 commercials - 2 locals (tire shop, florist, grocery store type stuff) and one national (dodge, ford, pizza, or cell phone).. and then.. the news starts..

at this point, if you’ve spent you’re day impossibly distant from any kind of web access, radio, or print media, you’ll hear something you didn’t know about the big national story of the day - something like: “you’re not gonna believe this viewers, but there was a hurricane today..” - always presented as though these people just happened to be in the right place at the right time to get a hold of this story - like we would never have found out without their uncanny luck and hard work..

then they’ll pipe down about 10 minutes of smack from the network and from larger affiliates regarding the big 4 or 5 national stories.. zzzz..

after that, it’s time for the good stuff - the local stuff - a robbery, some graffiti, the city council doings, and a nice feel-good about a local charity booger-picking contest…

all of this should take about 3 minutes, but is stretched to 10 by 15 mis-reads of the teleprompter, 4 meaningless video clips (one is accidentally shown twice), and 1.5 minutes of dead air with the anchor staring at the camera like “now? is it on? should i-? ok.. now? (taps paper on desk) now? is it.. um.. ok.. and.. we’re back..”

if you survive all this, you’ll be treated to sports and weather - the only stuff anyone could possibly want from this kind of programming in the first place - (this is at the end of the program for the same reason the milk is in the far back at wal-mart - they know what you came for but you’re gonna have to work a little bit to get it)

so the sports guy tells you who “took the measure of” who in last nights games.. rolling through scores so fast you end up thinking the yankees beat the packers on a 3-pointer at the buzzer..

some clever banter here by the anchor or anchors to bring us to the “meteorologist” who could no more predict what’s actually going to happen with the weather than he could catch a bullet in his teeth (would that he would practice more on the latter)

and now it’s time for the “end piece”..
this all started with andy rooney on 60 minutes..
basically, you bring in someone from print media, a writer of some kind, and he regurgitates his latest prose to the camera..
something like this:
“hi.. i’m bret simmons.. if you read my column regularly, you know how i feel about violence.. and well.. if you don’t read my column.. i’ll just tell you right now.. i think violence is bad bad bad..”
and he’ll go on like that for his alloted 180 seconds..
but for all we know the last half of his story is something like: “that’s why i think everyone should by a gun and we’ll all meet down at the town square and shoot each other..”
because by the time he gets about 40 seconds in, everyone is either asleep, dead, or finally found the remote..

more camping this weekend..
devil’s den this time around..
they have 50 amps there but no ryan i didn’t take my table saw..

they also have hornets.. which is why my neck hurts now.. and why it will itch like crazy tomorrow..
like all such incidents, this one too involved a cracker sissy fit… this time i was on a really steep rock trail with a 4 year old in my arms so it was a little tougher to get the full hysterical teenage girl thing goin.. but i managed..

the kids had some ’stomach problems’ off and on but thankfully i was on the side of the bed farthest from the poop so mrs. cracker took care of all that…

we found a good tree for the swing - hard to describe this swing but it’s pretty cool.. came from ikea.. it’s basically a big canvas bag that you put kids in and swing them way too high to be safe.. this time around i had to tie the rope to a hatchet to get it over the limb it was so high.. always provides hours of fun..

we ate pretty well this time around.. steak on saturday nite along with some really good dutch oven camp stew our friends made.. very tasty.. plenty of pringles or “junk food” as the kids call em.. oreo’s, pancakes, cookies, smores of course - mrs cracker has started doing these with peanut butter for some reason - very tasty but manages to put this particular dish over my messy threshold.. i mean a smore is sloppy enough.. you put peanut butter on there and i’m just gonna have to go straight to the shower after that..

i got to spend quite a bit of time building and nurturing the conflagration that was our camp fire.. this is always the best part for me.. just burning wood like it’s my job.. i enjoy it a lot.. starting it.. getting it rolling.. then stacking the logs just so.. so there’s a perfect mix of fuel, heat, and oxygen.. and then building the last fire of the night just right so it’s still going in the morning..

some of the wood i had this time was very smoky so i started stripping the bark to cut down on that..

we have a thing we do when we go camping that i picked up somewhere - when you’re sitting around the campfire and the smoke starts coming at you, you say “i hate rabbits” and it makes it go away.. but.. as i tell the kids.. it only works if you really mean it..

so this morning, some of the kids were sitting around the fire and they had decided that if they couldn’t get the fire to believe that they really hated rabbits, they might be able to convince it that someone else in the group was a particularly enthusiastic friend of the rabbit:

kid one: “i hate bunnies” (still getting smoked to death)
kid two: “i hate bunnies” (next to kid one and equally smoked)
kid one and kid two (pointing at kid 3): “he loves bunnies!!”

this worked so that’s the system they’ll be using from now on..

overall we had a pretty good time despite the hornet attack and some less-than-well kids..

i didn’t get to stack any rocks this time.. that’s where i was headed when we got into the hornets.. maybe i can think of a magic phrase to make the hornets go away..
like “i hate monkeys” or something..