messiestobjects

When I Think About (Your Post) I (Tag) Myself

So my new j-o-b is going swimmingly well. Yesterday, my second day at work, I showed up in the morning and my boss tells me that she has an emergency. They got a surprise job in for next Monday, and she didn't have anyone available to go, and even though she likes to train up her new people for at least a week and then send them on a job with someone else who is more experienced before sending them out on their own, would I be interested in training up real fast and going? Well of course I would. So the upshot is that I spent all day yesterday cramming for the VUE test, which is the software and administration guidelines which the remote administrators (that's me) use to administer these tests, and at the end of the day took the test and passed with an %89. I wish I'd done that well at testing when I was still in school!

So, in a week I'm going to Wyoming all by myself! I'm even going to have a couple of free days, so I'm going to try to hit Yellowstone park, if that's at all feasible. But, first things first. I have a lot of work crap I still have to learn this week. The cool thing is that the company provides car service between the airport and my house, I get a company car rental card for my stays at remote sites, and a company credit card. And I get to book my own flights and hotels. This is like, the awesomest job ever. Well, it will be if I don't totally screw up this week. This whole Wyoming thing is a double-edged sword: I have a chance to impress them already, which is a good start to any job, or I bomb and... well actually it's not so bad because even if I bomb I can always say well you know, I had hardly any training, it's not my fault you guys had this emergency! So, sweet then.

Saranne had a post yesterday about all the crazy jobs she's had, which made me think about my own career, naturally. Since she didn't tag anybody on it, I'm tagging myself. My work history, as best as I can recall, and not necessarily in order:

Dishwasher at IHOP
Paperboy
Dishwasher at Deerfoot Lodge (Boy's camp)
Councilor at Deerfoot Lodge
Lifeguard at YMCA, Shawnee, various other dives
Various other crappy restaurant/resort jobs in the Poconos
Night stock boy at IGA (Grocery store)
Video Clerk at Movies on the Move
Sparkle Car Wash attendant (awesome summer job!)
Poster roller at poster distributer (Where Have-a-Day came from)
Materials Handler at Cosmetic/lipstick factory (most depressing job of my entire life)
Security Guard at the Shannon Inn
Wall to Wall clerk
Prosthetic Technician apprentice (Yes, fake legs)
Auto parts delivery dude
Can line inspector at Petersburg Fisheries, Alaska
Crab boat unloader on the Coastal Star (Crab processing boat in the Bering Straight)
Night Hausmeister at the Von Steuben Hotel, Bavaria, Germany
Night Auditor/Manager at the Von Steuben, and Chiemsee Lake hotel
Front Desk at several hotels
Housekeeping Supervisor in Baghdad, Iraq (IAP)
Maintenance Manager, then Project Manager, then General Manager in Baghdad Iraq (GBG)
Remote Site Administrator!!

I'm sure there's a thing or two I missed. Anyway, I know it was probably difficult if not outright boring for you to read through that list. But, blogging is for the benefit of the blogger, not the blog reader. I just wanted to see how much I could remember. Too bad I'll never know what I've forgotten. Isn't it weird that you can have spent weeks or months working at a place, and one day totally forget about that period in your life? Same thing with girlfriends. Every once in a while something will remind me of a girl I once dated, and I can't remember her name, or what period of my life that was in, and I have to struggle for a long time to recall anything about her, and then at some point I'll realize that I had dated her for like 6 months! No wonder people don't live to be 500 years old or whatever... you'd totally forget where you spent the first 200 years of your life by then. Your brain would totally mush, even if you didn't age. I'm 34, and my brain is oatmeal. Or cornflakes, after soaking in milk for 5 minutes.

Right. Anyway.

My Life In The Forging

The above is an image of the product of my last 5 Blacksmithing classes. I think it's supposed to be a fireplace caddy, you know, to hang the little ash shovel, fire poker, and bellows on. But I don't have a fireplace, so it's going to be a coat hook, although Andrew, the guy that's teaching me Blacksmithing, said something about our next task may be making the shovel, poker, and bellows. I still won't have a fireplace, though.

I'm really enjoying the class. Andrew is an enthusiastic teacher, and it's strangely centering to pour all of your concentration into the task of smashing a hammer down onto a red hot piece of metal in just the right fashion to get the shape you're looking for. And when you're finished, you have a heavy metallic object to show for all your work. Very satisfying. This is a blurry shot of Andrew demonstrating a technique.

The dark side of Andrew's enthusiasm is that he gets very excited about every little aspect of the trade... which isn't a bad thing in and of itself: He obviously is one of the lucky few who loves what he does for a living... loves it A LOT. Last night I was subjected to a twenty minute lecture on the manufacture, usefulness, and maintenance of metal filing tools. A little later I was subjected to a similar lecture on the pros and cons of different types of waxes, such as paraffin or linseed oil, and which combination makes a better finish for your metal product. Useful information, no doubt, but we only have three hours per week to beat on metal, which is what I signed up for. Maybe if I get to continue the classes past the 8 week curriculum, I'll find that information more useful.

The lighter side of his enthusiasm of course, is that it's infectious. I would really like to continue taking lessons. Once a week is just about perfect for it, too. It gives your arm a chance to rest up (we did some cold metal work last night, which means beating on UNheated  metal in order to get some nice decorative dents on the edges and to perform mild corrections.... much more strenuous than beating on softer hot metal. OW my arm and back!) and your mind a chance to mull over what you learned... and then of course to forget it so that you spend the first half hour of every class trying to remember how you did that neat little curve last week. I actually learn this type of physical activity/skill better that way though, I think.

As much as I'd like to continue taking the classes, I may have to actually miss the last couple, unfortunately. I got that call this morning from my new job, and they want me to start tomorrow! I will probably be in town training for a week or two, not really sure about that yet, so I should be able to get at least one more Blacksmith class in, but at some point I think they're going to send me to Texas (Urgh. URGHH!!) to do my first camp set-up thingie. I'm really looking forward to this job. At least, I'm looking forward to the parts where I'm not in Texas. There were a lot of redneck Texans in the Interzone. I really learned to dislike them. I'm sure they're not all that stereotype, but even one is too many. Anyway, obviously I'll be posting on the subject at some point.

Yay! Subject material!

Either "Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road" Jokes Have Deep Philosophical Significance On The Importance Of The Wandering Life... Or I Just Made That Up.

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt. - Mark Twain

Incidentally, if I ever open a book store, I'm going to name it Two Fathoms Deep, in honor of 'ol Sam Clemens. Because that's what mark twain means, in Mississippi river-boat parlance. What that has to do with a bookshop or the possibility of me ever opening one, I'm not sure, but it sounds good and would make a great conversation piece for me to chat up the customers with.

I bet after one visit, people would stop coming into my bookshop.

Although... that guy at Carroll & Carroll still captivates his customers with tales of arcane Library of Congress numbers and 3rd edition imported copies of old British sci-fi for hours and hours, and hours, so who knows.

Well, apropos of the above quote, it's been a slow week, I know. I've been waiting to post because I've been waiting on some news about whether I got a certain job or not. And I've been vegetating in front of my TV and not really exercising my head, so, no good rants were coming to mind, either. That's just the way it goes, sometimes. Although I did just finish reading a book named 'Blink' by Malcolm Gladwell. Very interesting stuff, and one I recommend to people with poor decision-making skills. The stuff about mind-reading through facial expressions was particularly interesting. But I digress...

I got the job! They are currently doing a background check on me, which has me a little nervous. Not that I've got anything to worry about... that I can think of. That's the problem with people digging around in your past. You start convincing yourself that somehow you've forgotten about a murder you committed or that time you did for embezzlement, and the sweat, oh my the sweat.

So it doesn't pay a lot, but I'm really excited about it. I'll be working for a company that does one or two week intensive training camps, where corporations will send their employees to get certified/re-certified on computer programs such as any of the Microsoft docket, Java, databases, blah blah blah etc. etc. Their home office is not far from my house, and it's in a nice location out in the woods, free of distractions.

I won't, however, be working there. My job title is something ridiculous like Remote Site Administrator Guy. What they do is, they have these camps all over the country, in cities where their clients want to send their people for two weeks of intensive training. My job will be to fly to that city with all of the computer equipment, book the hotel rooms and conference rooms for the client, set up the equipment before the party starts, then hang back while someone else does the training! If I want, I can even sit in on the classes, so that's a total bonus. Maybe I can figure out how the hell Windows Vista works... it's stupid. I miss XP. Traveling and learning on the company's dime is SO what all that intense hard work in Baghdad has qualified me for. Actually, it's the logistics experience that attracted them to me, and the independence, because I'll be flying around on my own. I didn't mention to them that that's not exactly what 'Independent Contractor' means, but shhhh.

So yes I'm extremely impatient to start... I haven't actually been to too many places within the continental U.S., and they tell me that I will have ample opportunity to look around... So I get to travel again, and possibly have new subject material to blog about, something which is painfully obvious that I need here. It's a win-win. Hopefully, I'll also be learning stuff about the business/office world, such as what the hell phrases like "We quickly customize ethical paradigms and professionally fashion inexpensive content for 100% customer satisfaction", or "Our challenge is to interactively restore resource-leveling content to set us apart from the competition" mean. I'm sure it must mean something.

The Austrian Ski Patrol Is Always There When You Need 'Em.

I was reminded recently of a story about running from the cops. Well, sort of cops. I was living in Germany in the winter of '98/'99, and it was the best snowboarding season, ever. Bavaria was getting record amounts of snow. It seemed like every day, there was a foot of fresh powder on the ground. It would snow like crazy all night, and in the morning, clear skies. It did that every day for weeks. Like I said, best snowboarding season ever.

I was working as Night Hausmeister at the Von Steuben Hotel in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, in the Bavarian Alps. Heh. As an interesting aside, General Von Steuben was a Prussian military officer who was either exiled or escaped from Germany after being found out to be a pedophile. He went to America and offered his services to the American military in the American Revolutionary War. I don't know if his vices were continued in our great, forgiving nation, (See Deliver Us From Evil... my God. I mean it. See it. Everyone needs to.) but he did become a war hero. Anyway, after World War II, when the US Army wanted to have a place for soldiers to go on R&R in Bavaria, they took the old Nazi Youth Headquarters in Garmisch-Partenkirchen and re-named it the Von Steuben Hotel. The Prussian pedophile was allowed to return home to Germany honorably, thanks to US! That always gave me the giggles. Uh... I mean, MANLY giggles, that is. Anyway, that's where I worked as Night Hausmeister, which is a fancy German word (House Master) for Night watchman/housekeeper. It's a nice word, I like it.

Anyway, my friend Dirk (Whose picture that is at the top) was the Night Auditor. Our hours were from 11pm until 7am. After I finished my work, I'd crash on the couch in the main lobby in front of the fireplace from like 2am until 5 or 6. We'd eat breakfast, run back to our rooms and get geared up, hop into his VW van (which he called his toybox because he was an avid outdoor sportsman and had four seasons worth of sporting goods he kept in there, including a unicycle and some juggling pins... don't ask, he was insane) and head to any one of about ten different Alps in the area for a full day of snowboarding on a foot of fresh powder. Get back home by around 5pm, sleep for a few hours, get up, go to work, repeat every day all winter. Again, best snowboarding season anybody's ever had in all of time!!! It was really great. Dirk was a really excellent boarder too, and my own boarding skills improved dramatically that winter, just trying to keep up with him.

But it was all possible because of the Happy Ski Pass... the season pass which Dirk and I each had that allowed us access to all the Bavarian Alps AND Austrian Alps in the area. Our favorite mountain was in an Austrian town named Lermoos, about 45 minutes down the road from Garmisch. They had some really awesome runs, and the best off-piste (off trail) boarding anywhere in the area... which turned out to be the problem. When the snow is really good, there is a particularly fun off-piste run that goes right down under one of the main chair-lifts, and due to the copious amounts of snow on this particular day, there were signs saying to stay out of that particular area due to avalanche danger. Of course, we either didn't see or chose to ignore the warning signs. It was a fantastic run. It was so fun and we were so cool for hitting it first that the Austrian Ski Patrol was waiting for us at the bottom.

They asked for our Happy Ski Passes. Dirk (who spoke fluent German)  started flipping out and said "No! No way! Mike, don't give 'em your pass!" And I was all like "No! No way! Dirk, don't give 'em your pass! What do we do?!" Have I told you yet that Dirk was a Genius? Well, he says "Dude! There's a Church at the bottom of this slope! (The slopes commonly would run all the way right down into town in the Alps) Get away! start boarding! They can't arrest you in a church, it's sanctuary!" So we run. I followed him down the slope, the Austrian Ski Patrol following us in a rather bewildered state... I don't think they'd been faced with this particular problem before. This picture is not of the Church at Lermoos that is being implicated in this story, but it's pretty, no? This particular church resides on the slopes of the Zugspitze, the tallest Alp in Germany.

Well, a not-so-much-longer-story short, we made it down because I don't think that the Austrian Ski Patrol was really trying too hard, because I think they weren't sure what to do if they actually caught us, ski-chases not likely being a part of their regular routine. We boarded right through the front doors of the small rococo Tyrolian church, which was mostly empty at the time, and unhitched our boards in the foyer. We ran to the back of the church, got out of our ski clothes, ran out the back door through the church cemetary and hopped the back wall surrounding it. We made our way separately back to the toybox, hiding from the ski patrol who apparently hadn't thought we'd try to escape from the rear and laughed our asses off all the way home. We avoided Lermoos for a few weeks after that, but of course we couldn't stay away forever. That run under the ski lift was too sweet.

Sanctuary. Sheesh. Thank God we were so dumb, or we might have actually had our Happy Ski Passes confiscated. Good times.

There was another time, a few years later, when I was snowboarding at another location in Austria, (The Steinplatte, I think) when the Austrian Ski Patrol saved my life. I was going off-piste again, when all of a sudden I found myself staring down a 300 foot sheer cliff. I screeched to a halt, and sat at the very edge, looking down at my death. I couldn't move to try and unhook my board, because if it slipped while trying to unhook my foot, I'd be going off-cliff. I couldn't turn around because I was too close to the edge. So I sat. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Austrian 911... I tried to explain where I was, but it was difficult because my German has never been stellar, and besides, I was in the woods off some ski trail. So I sat there, staring down at my 300 foot death with my ass in the snow, eventually going numb from cold, for about 2 hours until the Austrian Ski Patrol found me... So you know, they're nice to have around when you need them. Even though they helped me out, I don't feel bad for not letting them take my Happy Pass all those years ago. Besides, if you think about it, I really owe my life to cellphone technology. The Austrian Ski Patrol only gets partial credit. The greater portion, of course, but still.

This is me on the Zugspitze. I have no pictures of the Austrian Ski Patrol, I'm sad to say.

I Was Fated To Choose To Write This Post In An Idiosyncratic Manner

There's an old conundrum bandied about in philosophical and spiritual circles about whether or not our lives, the universe, and everything are driven by free will or are pre-destined. I believe the Catholics like to call it pre-determination, which is the specific opinion that God has chosen all of our destinies, made all of our choices for us.

Leaving out the existence of God or lack thereof argument for the moment, this has always struck me as an idiotic and short-sighted position on the matter for religious types. The whole point behind the oldest Christian moral, that of Adam and Eve, is about giving man a choice between happy-go-lucky gardening in Eden or the loss of their innocence in exchange for cold hard knowledge. In other words, the very first choice in the Bible that was given to man by God was to do as he will; ignore the fruit tree as commanded, or eat some and suffer. That's what I believe what the kids are calling free will these days is. God wanted to see what Adam was made of, so he gave him a choice. So I really don't understand where all this religious pre-determination nonsense comes from. Probably some crusty old robed dude with a superiority complex sitting in the Vatican thinking up ways to justify his job.

Leaving pre-determination behind as anachronistic and moving on to the more philosophical aspect of the question, known as pre-destination, we begin to tread more logical ground. Pre-destination makes more sense to me as an idea because of some of the revelations of modern science, actually. Namely, the fact that Einstein discovered that Time is in reality not something that hasn't happened yet, but merely a 4th dimension. In other words, Time is quite possibly all of a piece; what we consider the past, present, and future are extremely subjective and actually may conceivably exist in the Universe all at once, and we are like mites on a round table or cavemen on a globe, too small to see the shape of it, but destined to travel in circles while believing we walk in a straight line. In other words, everything that ever was, is, or will be, exists right here and now, but our little minds are not large enough to perceive more than a tiny bit of it at any particular instant, which we call the present. By this logic, our futures have already happened and there is no changing them, and this is where the more philosophical side of the pre-destiny of our lives argument comes from. And you can still blame God if you want, or shake your hand futilely at the sky and rail against unpersonified fate. Whichever tickles your angry fancy.

Of course, logically, this breaks down for me also. The fact that our futures have already happened, are happening, or will happen, doesn't really mean anything. In other words, even if the future is all laid out, so are the choices we made at those points in our destiny. If the future is as set in stone as our past, well, you made your choices then, you're choosing to read this now, (sorry about that), and you will choose in a moment to get up and get more coffee. I've never understood why pre-destination has to cancel out free will. Just because the future exists doesn't mean your mind isn't there also to perceive it and make those choices.

I think it's just an outdated religious question that got out of hand, and a good example of people who think that they are logical not being logical. There's no reason to think that just because the future exists means that we didn't get to choose how it unfolded, barring any more data on the matter.

If you're wondering why I seem to be using the word logic a lot (See? I can get it right from time to time!) lately, it's because I'm apparently an INTJ and that's allegedly just how we operate, according to Personality Theory. So, now that I know that, I've spent a lot (See? I did it again!) of time thinking about logical conundrums. So, do I think logically because I choose to, or pecause Personality Theory (or God, or Fate) dictates that I should, hmm? Am I even thinking logically? I think that most people think that they think things through, so, it's entirely possible that I'm deluding myself.

One thing that I think that I am fated, predestined, or just simply chose to be is the kind of person that likes to play Devil's advocate. I often like to argue with people whether I agree with what I'm arguing for or not. Usually I do it just to irritate my friend Scott, but I enjoy the argument for argument's sake, also. I'll never forget the time when I turned my Mom's face pastier white than snow could dare to dream to be; I must have been like 1 or 2 years old, tops. I realize that that is an awfully young age to have such a vivid memory of, but if you'd seen the look on my Mom's face, you'd never have forgotten it either. I remember thinking, in a vague sort of way, that I wanted to get a reaction out of her just to see what would happen. We went to church every Sunday, where there was a lot of talk about God, and Jesus, and all that, and being so young I liked it all. Good vs. Evil was a concept I appreciated and I liked Jesus well enough. But again, I was looking for a reaction, and I remember walking into the kitchen and very innocently stating to my mother in a sweet little 2 year old boy voice, "Mom, I hate Jesus."

Well, I got a reaction all right. I hadn't realized it would be such a controversial statement. I remember being shocked by her anger and by what I didn't recognize at the time as her own shock and fear; I believe I actually thought she would think it was a funny joke. You know, two-year old humor. It took a long time to convince her that I didn't really mean it, which was really hard because I don't think I had the words at my disposal to explain myself at that age. It was a very strict lesson that arguments about ideas are not always well-handled by others, and also taught me that I sometimes enjoy getting a reaction out of them, regardless.

An Impassioned Argument Using Not Only Logic, But Mixed Metaphors And Guts, Too.

I think I've got it aalllll figgered out, man.  I know why stupid people always seem to win out in this world, why logic has left the building. It's really quite simple. Say two people are having an argument about something. Anything. For instance, who can run faster, Superman or the Flash? Or who would win in a fight, a Caveman or an Astronaut? Or whether Ann Coulter is a mutant or not. Anything. Say one of the people involved in the argument is an intelligent, logical being. A Rational, as a sop to Miss Luongo's personality theory obsession. Convinced that conclusions ought to be reached with actual facts taken into consideration, each step of the argument followed by the next logical step, based on actual evidence. Say the other debator is... well, less rational. A Guardian type. Convinced that little niceties such as good conclusions based on logical thought are less important than following what your gut says is right, because we all know that following your gut is always such a good idea. Passionate argument is proof enough for them.
In the immortal words of Howard W. Campbell Jr.:

"The truth of your leader August Craptower, and those like him, will be with mankind forever, as long as there are men and women who listen to their guts instead of their minds."
                    -From Mother Night

August Craptower was a leader in the neo-nazi community in Kurt Vonnegut's little morality play there. August Craptower, George Bush, same thing.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that say these two are having an argument. The logical one states his case. He won't usually be all impassioned and heartfelt and all up in people's guts because he feels that the logic of his case, the obvious rightness of what he's saying based on rational thought, will shine through and people will get it, and as long as the people listening aren't totally evil they'll agree with him because he's right. I'm not saying that the logical person is infallible here, only that when he's thought things through clearly, he tends to firmly believe he's on the side of right, and based on fact and evidence, or lack of actual evidence of nuclear weapons in Iraq thereof, feels that any other course of action is insane. The Flash can run faster than Superman, because DC comics has made a point of that many times. The Flash can go so fast he vibrates through walls. Superman can fly faster than the Flash can run, but that wasn't the question. Ok maybe there is no logic there, really, but you get where I'm coming from.

So, the logical guy makes his case, and steps back, knowing that after the evidence he's presented, there can be no argument, unless new facts are brought to light which he then will have to deal with. Then the less logical, yet more impassioned Guardian type steps up. He is also convinced of his rightness, but not because of any facts or evidence, excepting perhaps the tidbit that of course God created the world because look at the banana! (It was made to fit a Man's hand (or a monkey's...) and has a natural pull-tab, like a soda can! You can't evolve something like that! (Except that actually, man has cultivated the banana for centuries, making it what it is today, somewhat showing how evolution can work at an accelerated pace, but never mind that bit of fact.))

No, he's convinced of his rightness because he feels it can't be any other way. Of course Saddam is evil and has Weapons of Mass Destruction. He's all dark skin toned and has an evil laugh, and besides, G.W.B. wouldn't lie to us, not the President! He's more than a man, he's God's chosen leader for the greatest nation on Earth! Of course God is on America's side, otherwise we wouldn't be so powerful! He's on our side, just like he was on the side of history's other greatest empires, like Rome, and Egypt... oh wait, they don't usually take the logic that far, you know, because then they'd have to change their opinion. No, the illogical side of this argument will do whatever it takes to win the argument, because he feels right. He'll use facts that are perceived, he'll even make shit up, take things out of context and use them to prove his view of things. And the other guy, the logical one, will tend to sit back and laugh at the other guy's antics, because obviously he's an idiot, and nobody's going to buy that junk... Except of course, that they do.

Why? Well, my rather simple theory is that, since the greater part of the human population are these so-called Guardian types, sheep in other words, they will believe whoever talks longer and louder. Look at that guy, they say, he is so heartfelt and he won't shut up. Obviously he believes what he's saying. That whistleblower over there, who used to be a weapons inspector in Iraq, only offered a cold assesment that he found no WMD. But this guy, he knows that there are weapons over there, if only we keep looking! And he's never even been over there, so that shows you the strength of his conviction!

Logical people don't seem to believe what they're saying, because they offer things as cold fact and then stop talking once they've reached their conclusion, because once an actual case has been reached based on facts, there's really not much left to say. Illogical people seem to believe what they're saying because they never shut up and get louder and louder and more O'Reilly about it, and because they never seem to reach an actual logical conclusion, feel the need to make up for it with volume and heart. And the sucker that is the human race eats it up.

It's all very sad, but based on this fact alone, I'd say that the human race doesn't have a whole lot of time left. As races go, that is. The inevitable conclusion to a race gone with the Pied Piper is extinction. Unless lemmings learn to actually use their minds and not only their guts.