Friday, May 04, 2007
I hate workplace jargon, and go out of my way not to use it. When I was about 13 I once held the stem of a bottle rocket between my teeth, lit the fuse and launched it on a dare. We had a "party line" when I was growing up. Who knows what that is? (PJ, you are disqualified from answering that) I could climb trees like a monkey when I was a boy. Still can, but don't nearly enough. My college car, a 1979 Chevy Monza hatchback (can't believe I found that brochure online, because that's EXACTLY what my car looked like!), had a blown head gasket so it would literally throw oil whenever the car was running, getting on the engine and smoking so badly people would tell me that my car was on fire. It wasn't. I sometimes skip, just to add some variety to my walking routine. I can't stand watching auto racing, yet I have a secret desire to be a racecar driver. I could do it, too, you know. I'm that good. I have a sign in my office that says, "Complaints? Ask for Heywood Jablomy," and for the first time I had someone look at it and ask me who Heywood Jablomy is. I laughed a hearty laugh at that. I still love The Cars' first album, The Cars. I hate gum, and I hate hate hate it when people chew gum with their mouths open. Or chew anything with their mouths open, for that matter. I am irrationally afraid of being buried alive.