Friday, May 27, 2011
Book Review: A Triumph of of Words The Lexical Funk
The self published book The Lexical Funk by Daniel Clausen consists of a collection of short stories interspersed with short interludes. The stories may be described as fantasy, but not quite. Clausen's characters are introspective and apt to make the reader uncomfortable, both because their thoughts are disturbing, and because on some level they may strike close to home. The stories are not pleasant or happy. The interludes between the stories are biographical in nature, and I found them more readable than the stories themselves. The book is an interesting read, but not for those who prefer reading as a form of light entertainment.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Other Drivers
I just noticed that many of the new cars come with turn signals as an option, and often people do not pay for this extra. Perhaps drivers believe that it is no one else's business where they are going. While I do not really care where you are going, I would like to know that you are turning and not just randomly slowing down to annoy me. Just as handy would be the knowledge that you are turning so that I can pull out into traffic. I have several other pet peeves about other drivers, involving the passing lane and the turning lane.
Apparently the laws were changed while I was not looking, and the passing lane has been designated for those drivers who wish to be passed. Driving below the speed limit in the passing lane causes me to dart back and forth between cars, something which I do not care to do. But really people, if the speed limit is 60 miles per hour, please makes some attempt to drive near that speed, or if you must drive slowly do not do it in the passing lane.
The turning lane is that weird third or fifth lane in the center of the road separated by yellow lines. I explain this because here where I live many drivers do not seem to know why it exists and how to use it. Some people refuse to use it entirely, while others get halfway into it, unable to make a commitment to their turn. Someone once told me that in their part of the country it is referred to as "the suicide lane", implying drivers use it to drive down the street and then smash headlong into each other. That is certainly not the case here, where it should be referred to as "the what is that lane for" lane.
It does not surprise me that drivers get angry on the road. If everyone would just follow the rules, realize that they are not the only drivers out there, use courtesy and common sense, a lot of road rage could be eliminated.
Apparently the laws were changed while I was not looking, and the passing lane has been designated for those drivers who wish to be passed. Driving below the speed limit in the passing lane causes me to dart back and forth between cars, something which I do not care to do. But really people, if the speed limit is 60 miles per hour, please makes some attempt to drive near that speed, or if you must drive slowly do not do it in the passing lane.
The turning lane is that weird third or fifth lane in the center of the road separated by yellow lines. I explain this because here where I live many drivers do not seem to know why it exists and how to use it. Some people refuse to use it entirely, while others get halfway into it, unable to make a commitment to their turn. Someone once told me that in their part of the country it is referred to as "the suicide lane", implying drivers use it to drive down the street and then smash headlong into each other. That is certainly not the case here, where it should be referred to as "the what is that lane for" lane.
It does not surprise me that drivers get angry on the road. If everyone would just follow the rules, realize that they are not the only drivers out there, use courtesy and common sense, a lot of road rage could be eliminated.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Shoot Me If I Ever Start Talking About the Good Old Days
Nothing makes my eyes roll up into my head as much as a conversation that begins with, "You know, when I was a kid, " or "It used to be that ..." or other words to that effect. The reason for my dislike is twofold. These words are either a prelude to a complaint or the beginning of a nostalgic soliloquy involving people I will never know, or places I have never been, but in which I must feign interest .
The prelude to some complaint or rant is by far the most annoying of these. They generally involve explaining how much better things used to be. Memories of a time that never really existed, told from a long gone and somewhat hazy childhood fail to sway me into believing that everything used to be so much better than today. These stories seldom recall the fact that children were sheltered from the harsh realities of life. Mom and Dad did not share their fears of putting food on the table or paying the rent. They did not explain that grandma passed away because no one could come up with the money to pay for her operation. They do not mention that the neighbor beat his wife regularly, but no one said anything because it was none of their business.
These hazy childhood memories completely ignore the fact that the world was not a happy place for everyone. Ask about people who had to go to separate but not equal schools, ask about the separate restrooms and drinking fountains, ask about the fun cross burnings. I did once and the answer I got was, "Well I don't know about that," but the good old days continued on unabated. Really, this does not sound better to me.
The other good old days stories are easier to fore bare. Yes, I realize the family and community history is important. It makes us who we are. But really, do I have to hear the story of the shade of yellow the kitchen was in 1942 again. Tell me real stories, why the family moved to a new state, how grandma and grandpa met. I'm sorry, but I can not make myself care about the darling little three legged dog the neighbor down the street had.
I do not want to be one of those people. I do not want to spend my senior years thinking that everything that was good is gone. I do not want to look at the world as though it has nothing left to offer me. There have always been, and always will be both good and bad and I want to see them both. And most especially I do not want to say, "You know, back in the good old days we had dial-up and we were perfectly happy about it."
The prelude to some complaint or rant is by far the most annoying of these. They generally involve explaining how much better things used to be. Memories of a time that never really existed, told from a long gone and somewhat hazy childhood fail to sway me into believing that everything used to be so much better than today. These stories seldom recall the fact that children were sheltered from the harsh realities of life. Mom and Dad did not share their fears of putting food on the table or paying the rent. They did not explain that grandma passed away because no one could come up with the money to pay for her operation. They do not mention that the neighbor beat his wife regularly, but no one said anything because it was none of their business.
These hazy childhood memories completely ignore the fact that the world was not a happy place for everyone. Ask about people who had to go to separate but not equal schools, ask about the separate restrooms and drinking fountains, ask about the fun cross burnings. I did once and the answer I got was, "Well I don't know about that," but the good old days continued on unabated. Really, this does not sound better to me.
The other good old days stories are easier to fore bare. Yes, I realize the family and community history is important. It makes us who we are. But really, do I have to hear the story of the shade of yellow the kitchen was in 1942 again. Tell me real stories, why the family moved to a new state, how grandma and grandpa met. I'm sorry, but I can not make myself care about the darling little three legged dog the neighbor down the street had.
I do not want to be one of those people. I do not want to spend my senior years thinking that everything that was good is gone. I do not want to look at the world as though it has nothing left to offer me. There have always been, and always will be both good and bad and I want to see them both. And most especially I do not want to say, "You know, back in the good old days we had dial-up and we were perfectly happy about it."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)