not awkward, nor uncomfortable, but... ??
take your vehicle to a car wash. watch it go thru the big mechanical-soap-tunnel, and then watch that guy drive it around to the little waiting area where all the other just-bathed cars are parked and being hand-dried.
if there are a bunch of cars being finished, then there are a bunch of people waiting for their respective cars. and that's what i'm talking about here.
do you feel it? everyone is silently, yet methodically, sizing up everyone else. who's waiting for which car? that car is HER'S? he drives THAT?
i've got a pickup. so no worries there... but when i take my mom's RAV4, holy moly... just as soon as the guy makes it clear that the car is finished, it's a quick shuffle to give the guy a tip and drive it on outta there... is that pride? sometimes i wanna turn around and exclaim, "don't worry, this car's my mom's. I'VE got a 4x4. which, of course, is a man's car."
and of course, i'm exaggerating. it's late. but next time you have your car washed, you'll see.
03 April 2003
01 April 2003
stuff like this cracks me up...
Appellate Court Rules Media Can Legally Lie.
my favorite part of the article:
"The attorneys for Fox, owned by media baron Rupert Murdock, argued the First Amendment gives broadcasters the right to lie or deliberately distort news reports on the public airwaves.
In its six-page written decision, the Court of Appeals held that the Federal Communications Commission position against news distortion is only a "policy," not a promulgated law, rule, or regulation."
i guess we all knew this already, but, it does seem a bit obnoxious.
what does promulgated mean, anyway? sheesh...
Appellate Court Rules Media Can Legally Lie.
my favorite part of the article:
"The attorneys for Fox, owned by media baron Rupert Murdock, argued the First Amendment gives broadcasters the right to lie or deliberately distort news reports on the public airwaves.
In its six-page written decision, the Court of Appeals held that the Federal Communications Commission position against news distortion is only a "policy," not a promulgated law, rule, or regulation."
i guess we all knew this already, but, it does seem a bit obnoxious.
what does promulgated mean, anyway? sheesh...
arg.
i had to go to the DMV today... what a place. the thing is, you hate 'being there' before you even show up. it's one big room, poorly lit and always noisy. and not an endearing noisy, but a third-grade-classroom-after-lunch-on-a-friday-before-summer-vacation noisy. more than a dull roar, and all conversations / ringing phones / printing printers mash together in this hideous assault on your eardrums. from your first step inside, every living cell in your body wants to run far, far away.
and always, ALWAYS, in the middle of this room, is an awkward "island" composed of tired, dirty furniture: worn out desks and rickety shelves. and all cluttered with these computers that look like they were bought from an old library that shut it's doors in 1978. i mean, these poor people... the screens are smaller than most laptops', and are monochrome green! there isn't a manufacturing plant on the face of this planet that can make a monitor like that anymore! not to mention those printers... i don't know where they're finding those ink cartridges, yet you can be sure that the DMV is the only company in all of creation buying them...
anyways, it was an ordeal. it always is. people (impatiently) waiting. perpetual lines. the disgruntled citizen who can't quite get the picture from the nice lady up front. and we're all helplessly watching those dumb TVs hanging from the ceiling with the lucky little numbers of whose turn it finally is. of who gets to get out of their little plastic seat, while everybody else is watching (all wondering, at the same time as one big, collective DMV customer thought: "didn't i get in here before that guy?"), and venture out to that magnificent island.
i approached, and the lady didn't even look up at me. "hi," i offered. awkward moment. she's still mesmerized by the electronic relic of a computer right in front of her face. "i need a printout, the long one" i finally declare. then- contact! the most emotionless, matter-of-factly spoken "license please" anyone could have ever mustered. i was stunned. i gave her my license, tried some off-hand comment to at least make it seem like two human beings were in communication. but- nope. nothing. don't stir the natives...
arg. i just feel sorry for those employees. 'morale' doesn't even apply to a place like that. and the people they must have to deal with. it made me sad. defeated. i paid my five bucks, the printer had it's conniption, i took my printout and shoved off. intact. and then- everybody watched me leave... ("he's already done? my little number hasn't even appeared yet...") until next time.
i had to go to the DMV today... what a place. the thing is, you hate 'being there' before you even show up. it's one big room, poorly lit and always noisy. and not an endearing noisy, but a third-grade-classroom-after-lunch-on-a-friday-before-summer-vacation noisy. more than a dull roar, and all conversations / ringing phones / printing printers mash together in this hideous assault on your eardrums. from your first step inside, every living cell in your body wants to run far, far away.
and always, ALWAYS, in the middle of this room, is an awkward "island" composed of tired, dirty furniture: worn out desks and rickety shelves. and all cluttered with these computers that look like they were bought from an old library that shut it's doors in 1978. i mean, these poor people... the screens are smaller than most laptops', and are monochrome green! there isn't a manufacturing plant on the face of this planet that can make a monitor like that anymore! not to mention those printers... i don't know where they're finding those ink cartridges, yet you can be sure that the DMV is the only company in all of creation buying them...
anyways, it was an ordeal. it always is. people (impatiently) waiting. perpetual lines. the disgruntled citizen who can't quite get the picture from the nice lady up front. and we're all helplessly watching those dumb TVs hanging from the ceiling with the lucky little numbers of whose turn it finally is. of who gets to get out of their little plastic seat, while everybody else is watching (all wondering, at the same time as one big, collective DMV customer thought: "didn't i get in here before that guy?"), and venture out to that magnificent island.
i approached, and the lady didn't even look up at me. "hi," i offered. awkward moment. she's still mesmerized by the electronic relic of a computer right in front of her face. "i need a printout, the long one" i finally declare. then- contact! the most emotionless, matter-of-factly spoken "license please" anyone could have ever mustered. i was stunned. i gave her my license, tried some off-hand comment to at least make it seem like two human beings were in communication. but- nope. nothing. don't stir the natives...
arg. i just feel sorry for those employees. 'morale' doesn't even apply to a place like that. and the people they must have to deal with. it made me sad. defeated. i paid my five bucks, the printer had it's conniption, i took my printout and shoved off. intact. and then- everybody watched me leave... ("he's already done? my little number hasn't even appeared yet...") until next time.