Charming People 2: Jukebox

For my second installment in the Charming People series, I'm casting back to my first job: Taco Bell, the first two years (two years!) of college.

Jukebox had a real name, but only his coworkers knew what it was. His nametag said Jukebox and that's how all the customers knew him. He worked the late night shift, and once business had slowed to a trickle for the evening he would sing and rap for the customers in the drive-through and chat everyone up, as if he wanted nothing more than to talk to the people who happened to be at Taco Bell at 10:30 on a Tuesday night. I think perhaps there might have been nothing he wanted better than that.

Skinnier than a skeleton and not much prettier, he was everyone's favorite, from coworkers to customers to managers to even the corporate suits that would come in every once in a while. He'd never gone to college (heck, I'm not even sure he finished high school), but he knew more about current events, history and religion than anyone else I came in contact with. He was also one of the most generous people you'll ever meet; the "he'd give you the shirt off his back" sentiment is beyond cliched, but it truly describes Jukebox.

My life was enriched by knowing this skinny white guy from Minnesota who regularly sang the chorus to Get Low by Lil Jon and Eastside Boyz, loudly, while I mopped the floor every night after closing.

Charming People 1: Bill

I read once that Oscar Wilde had something to say about how to judge people. He posited that "it is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious."

I've found that in general he was right, and so in general I try to spend time around the charming people, and avoid the tedious ones. I save a lot of time that way. Every once in a while I wonder if perhaps my idea of charming is different than everyone else's, but I suppose that doesn't matter a whole lot.

I'd like to introduce a few people that I've run across in my life that have been charming. Today let's talk about Bill*.

Bill was a grad student (now an assistant professor, I think) (yes, across the country)** that taught a few of my sociology courses as an undergrad. Bill is of Greek descent, liked to watch movies and google whatever popped into his head during the middle of class, and told great stories. He found some time in the middle of all that to teach us a lot about culture and religion.

He's a scrawny guy, had black hair and a bushy beard and Buddy Holly glasses, your typical nerdy sociology grad student. He always wore these horrible pants- one pair was butter yellow and the other was baby blue- and a polo shirt, with old man sneakers.

When he was a young man, like somewhere between age 7 and 15, apparently his father took him to Greece to see the fatherland. While they were there his father decided that he (Bill) needed to be baptized, and hired some Greek Orthodox priest to do the deed in a local stream. The story goes that there he was, a geeky American kid, standing in a Greek stream in his shorts, about to be baptized, when a bus full of tourists drove up and stopped right there. He said he wanted to tell all the tourists that he wasn't an authentic Greek, but was too busy being dunked in the water to do so while the cameras pointed and clicked.

So many of his stories center around some humiliation or another (another time he was pulled over on his bike twice and fined for not having a headlight on after dark), and he told them with such indignance and obvious relish. I think that if it turned out none of those things ever happened to him, and that he was actually a compulsive liar, it would just add to his charm.

Everyone should be taught by a Bill at some point in their life. If you haven't yet, you need to start looking up classes to take at your local college. Go for a Master's, what the heck.


*I'll leave out last names, since these are all people I've known more or less in passing, and they might be creeped out to google themselves and find somebody they don't remember has been blogging about them.

**Oh, I feel sad now that I'm NOT using last names, because everyone should google Bill's name the way I just did. I got a huge belly laugh out of the different places he comes up on The Internet.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

Ever since Carrie and Justin both graduated, I never find love notes on my car after work anymore. Sigh.

Frustrated, much?

Once upon a time I went to Mexico. In Mexico they sell you things cheaply, sometimes swindle you, and sometimes kill you on the highway and leave your body for the crows to find.

I didn't get killed or swindled (yet!), but I did buy a cheap hammock. It's actually a very nice hammock, I met the dude that made it, he seemed nice, and it's blue and white. And comfortable. I know this because I set it up at the beach house we stayed at while we were there.

All good things must come to an end, and being back at home I realized that there was a crucial error to my purchase. Namely, we have no trees. The house we live in, it has no landscaping at all, just dirt and many, many rocks. Likewise there are no beautifully exposed rafters or anything on our porch to attach a hammock to, so my lovely blue and white hammock has been sitting, wound up in a ball, on a shelf in my room for a few months now, completely unused since its first glorious day in Mexico.

This weekend I decided that this would have to change, and that I would buy a stand to attach this thing to NO MATTER WHAT, even if the stand cost more than five times what the hammock did, I was going to sleep in that thing on Saturday night.

Many stores and hours later, after searching high in low in every likely and unlikely spot, still no hammock stand. I know that these things can be easily purchased via the internet, but I want instant gratification! If I shell out the dollars, I want to see results that same day. Plus, I'm never home during the middle of the day, so if a package came, probably my Completely Untrustworthy Neighbors would steal it and then sit in their hammocks, laughing in a wicked manner.

I've got two more leads to try out, hopefully tomorrow- the Sports Authority (how I hate that store) and a patio furniture store I've never heard of, but drove by when it was closed the other day. If I have no luck with those, I begin to wonder if it might not be the best idea to just plant some trees in the yard and wait for them to grow.

Things I Can No Longer Say I've Never Gotten For My Birthday

Rodgers and Hammerstein CD
TP'd
A New Friend
Musk
Silly Triangular Birthday Flags
Kisses from an Italian Man

In Case You Aren't Yet,

You really should be a regular kottke.org reader. By NOT visiting that site, you're missing out on things like this:


A robot learning to flip pancakes from Sylvain Calinon on Vimeo.


And you're missing out on those things every single day.

Unexpected Worries

Here's another item to add to the list of things I never imagined I'd worry about:

"Oh no, the cleaning ladies are coming today and the house isn't dirty at all! They won't have anything to do! "

"Maybe we can do a rain dance to track some dirt in for them to mop up..."

Pro Tip

Want your blush to smell like blush when you get home from vacation?

Try storing is somewhere other than in your makeup bag full of freshly gleaned seashells! This will keep your makeup smelling like makeup and your seashells smelling like disgusting rotting fish, like they should.

For this and more vacation tips, check out my blog at www.areyoureallythatstupid.com !

Another day, another island

Nantucket is just as sweet and 1920's as I've ever imagined it to be. Our bikes have baskets on them (wicker baskets!) and they get us across the island in a leisurely half hour. There's sandy paths through the beach grass to get to the water, and the waves are satisfactorily pummel-y on my torso. It is, again, quite chilly here, and I begin to wonder why anyone lives anywhere else than on an island during the summer. Why be hot? Why be sweaty and gross in the desert when you can be cool and charming in Nantucket? Just move here for the summer, stay in a cute hostel or maybe rent a home for a few months, and work remotely. We have computers that connect to each other anywhere we want to! Why do we not take advantage of this more often?

Greetings from Martha's Vineyard!

Where the sun is shining all day long and the air smells like warm rootbeer and anyone on the street would gladly shave your back for a nickel, wokka wokka doo doo yeah!

Alright, so not really, but this place is pretty amazing. They have trees! and water! and a smallish bus service! and bike rentals! The best part? It's not New York City, the hottest place on the planet! I'm very glad to be in a place that has shade and a climate that makes me think that maybe I'd want a sweater in the evening. That thought will pass, I think, but it's still a nice thought.

The only thing that could make life better is if I had some way of getting my pictures into my computer to share them with the world right now. As it is, that will have to wait until I get home. Just imagine me with a silly boatneck red and white striped shirt on, walking around cute little towns, eating seafood near rich people on vacation.

New York is trying to kill me

Uuuuuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhhh. I feel disgusting. I think I will probably be like 20 lbs lighter after two weeks in New England. Everything you do here is like bikram yoga. First pose: walk down the street. Second pose: wait for the train. Third pose: try not to fall over when packed onto the subway car like cattle on a train to Chicago. Fourth pose: who the crap thought that swamp coolers would be enough in this hostel when my brain is obviously coming through my pores since there is no more sweat in my body?


Aside from that, our trip has been just peachy. I walked a gajillion miles today and the Cyclone at Coney Island almost killed me with whiplash. The hot dogs and chinese food and gelato made up for it, though. Next stop, Connecticut!

Predictions on what 19 ACT-takers will learn in college

• You're going to learn that you need to make better friends and be careful with your money.
• You're going to learn that the university is kind of hard and maybe you should've started at a community college.
• You're going to learn that the community college is kind of hard and maybe you'll just go to beauty school. Do beauty schools have sororities?
• You're going to learn that Engineering is pretty great, but it doesn't leave you much time for drinking.
• You're going to learn that your personality alone isn't going to cut it anymore. But you'll also learn that you're smarter than you think.
• You're going to learn that your chosen major will determine whether you have friends for the next 5 years.
• You're going to learn that you're smarter than all the other girls in the sorority, but you won't know what to do with yourself without it, so you'll stay.
• You're going to learn that you'll be the exact same person you were in high school, only older. This is not a bad thing.
• You're going to learn that Insect Science is awesome, even though it's full of nerds. You like nerds even though you're not one of them.
• You're going to learn that because you're blessed with good genes and good jeans, you will accidentally surround yourself with shallow people and you'll dumb yourself down for them without even realizing it.
• You're going to learn that no matter what major you choose (and you will try most of them), you'll be dissatisfied and disillusioned. Your hygiene will deteriorate and you will become that creepy grad student in the Philosophy department that never finishes his thesis.
• Your suspicions about the way the world works, and what your place is in it, will be confirmed. You'll graduate in four and a half years, join the air force as an engineer, and have a blonde wife and three beautiful children to celebrate your 30th birthday with.
• You're going to learn that you're not really passionate about anything, but you'll graduate anyway because your parents told you to. You'll become an accountant.
• You're going to learn that you are actually very politically minded, and your parents shouldn't be surprised when you get arrested at a rally that gets out of hand.
• You're going to learn that no matter what your GPA, your extensive community service, and no matter how good your times, no one will know your name for being on the swim team.
• You're going to learn how to convincingly lie about how you spend your nights. Energy drinks taste horrible but they really help you cram in hours of video games studying.
• You're going to learn that college really isn't as hard as you've been led to believe, but it's ok- there's a lot of English Literature classes to fill up your time.
• You're going to learn that, just like in high school, your protestant work ethic and above-average IQ will be exploited by your classmates. You'll learn this again in the "working world" after you graduate.
• You're going to learn that the problem with racism isn't persecution so much as it is the outrageous expectations put on your academic and athletic career, and even social life, based on ignorance and reliance on stereotyping.

Stealing yet another man's words- has it gotten old yet?

It's just that people keep on saying the things that I'm thinking (before I start to think the things I'm thinking). I think I might have a case of the feelings. That is all.

Another post in which I don't say many of my own words

But that's ok, you like me anyway.

Having spent an entire semester studying Canadian literature (oh wait, I skipped that class for about a month and a half straight, whoops!) Having spent two non-consecutive months studying Canadian literature, I feel that I have the moral authority to say that Kate Beaton is Right On with her first sketch in today's Hark, a Vagrant!

That is exactly how I felt when reading basically everything for that course. Canadian writers are probably the most depressed and depressing lot of writers you've ever wanted to avoid meeting. Somehow I feel like a better person for reading the Stone Angel, though. Go ahead, call me an impressionistic youth! I dare you.

ALSO

Recommended for me by Youtube:

Shane McGowan Christmas Lullaby
DuckTales theme song cover


How did you know, Youtube?

Know what they were listening to in space on Feb. 12th this year?

That's right, it was the Firefly theme song. In case you didn't catch it from Kottke.org, there's an amazing list of all the wakeup call music played on NASA's missions over here.

Baking Habits

I've recently been on this kick of only baking things that are Out of This World (or in other words, pastries that, when eaten, will take you out of this world and send you straight on to the next). Mostly chocolate things, but also lemon and raspberry things, and a few other flavors in between.

Case in point:

Yes, it's a terrible photograph. I blame the bad natural lighting and the fact that our kitchen table happens to be a similar color to the cookies.

But yes, those cookies are in a 9x13 pan. Yes, they're chocolate on chocolate. And yes, they are larger than my palm. I gave myself diabetes just looking at the batter. Now to take them to work.

My Favorite Spam Message, Like Ever.

European and American women are too arrogant for you? Are you looking for a sweet lady that will be caring and understanding? Then you came to the right place- here you can find a Russian lady that will love you with all her heart. Can't find a queen to rule your heart? How about beautiful Russian ladies that have royal blood and royal look? Here you can find hundreds of portfolios of these fine women of any age for every taste. Please excuse us if you are not interested.

I think this is just great. Right from the beginning, it grabs you. Hey, European and American women ARE too arrogant for me! Maybe I should look to some other continent. I need somebody humble. How about a RUSSIAN QUEEN? She must have a royal look. The best part, though, is the last sentence.

Please excuse us if you are not interested.

This conjures up an image in my mind, where there's like twenty russian women of all ages, all with a royal look, huddled around a desktop computer circa 1997, typing out these messages in unison and sending them out, hoping that it reaches some American dude that's fed up with all those arrogant Western ladies. Psh. Can't even call them "ladies." Those arrogant Western broads.

Overactive Imagination

Did you know that there are faces in my shower? Have I told you that before?

There's Stalin. He's near the faucet handle. Mustache and dorky hat and everything.

Vasco da Gama was probably the first one I saw. He's kind of in the middle of the wall, just opposite the showerhead. He always looks a little depressed, looking down and to the right (my right, not his).

Then today I discovered that kid from Where the Wild Things Are, wearing his hood with pointy ears.


In the bathroom in my parents' house, there's Bill and Hilary Clinton, a rat, and a creepy disembodied yelling head.


My query is this: are these just random happenings in the fake marble that gets put in the bathrooms that I live in, or is some diabolical marble-plant worker doing this on purpose, just to see it he can make people go crazy?

Look up, stupid!

Trying to buy a bunch of cookies and milk today in a seldom-visited grocery store, I realize that I haven't given my discount card to the checkout guy.

"Wait! I have a Fry's card!" I hold up my keychain expectantly while tapping my PIN into the debit machine.

"Fry's card?" The checkout guy doesn't take my card.

I look up at him in his blue shirt, and realize. Oh. Albertson's doesn't care if I have a Fry's card or not.