Thursday, June 30, 2005

old habits

Found myself drifting off during a conversation I was having with a coworker. Maybe need some more sleep? Less starch in my lunch? At any rate, I snapped back into the conversation when the other looked at me expectantly and asked, "What do you think, Hideo?"

Using reflexes honed during hundreds of hours worth of conference calls, I quickly scanned my mental list of replies (picture scene in the first Terminator movie where Arnold the killer robot picks a charming come-back to the question, "Whaat, did somethin' die in there?").

An assasin cyborg from the future I am not. What tumbled out of my mouth was, "Oh sorry, I must have been on mute..."

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Euromania!

Once more in NYC for a meeting with the Eurpoean folks.

Americans are at such a disadvantage in this setting. We are immediately psyched out by that accent...Tally Ho! Tea and crumpets anyone?

Monday, June 20, 2005

I'll take "Names" for $500 please

6:00pm. MBA summer class starts.

"Hey there Hideo!"

(Darn. I recognize this guy's face, but I totally can't remember his name. Keith? Mike? John? I think there's a good chance that it's one of those).

"Hey man, good to see ya! Almost graduating?"

(Seems like a safe bet. I saw him during capstone, so like me, he must be close)

"Yeah, can't wait. 'bout you, Hideo?"

(Stop it!!!! You're tormenting me. You see that I don't remember, and you taunt me by flaunting your mental recall prowess!! But wait, two can play that game)

"Same here. Hey, my mail file crashed again I think I have to rebuild my contact list. Can you give me your email?"

"Sure. It's 675bsl*****@yahoo.com. I created a separate account for school using my dog's birthday as my ID."

(damn you. You saw that coming! )

"I dread the first day of the quarter. Every prof butchers "Hideo" during roll. You're lucky that not many people screw up your name! With a name like yours, how could ya, right?"

(say it say it SAY IT!)

"Very true. Gotta hit the coffee bar before class. Talk to ya later, Hideo."

"Later!"

(...so you may have won this battle, my worthy nemesis, but believe you me, I am not defeated!)

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Monkey see, monkey doo

Fine NYC morning. 7:45am, 88 degrees, 93% humidity. I make the short walk to the Doubletree where I'm scheduled to present. I'm early, so I peer through the corner cafe windows, looking to grab a bagel and a cheapo coffee in one of those paper cups with the flimsy fold-out handles.

I'm startled by what sounds like water landing on hard pavement after being squirted upward from a garden hose. Then realization hits. I've been tagged. My upper back, right arm, and a bit on my front pocket has suddenly grown bas-relief strokes of semi-liquid; the color of play-dough after all the reds, blues, yellows, and oranges are mixed together. Judging by the liquid volume, it was either a pigeon that has ingested an entire tin of planters nuts, or a small turkey buzzard that did the deed.

I dash into the nearest hotel to use the restroom. As luck would have it, I needed to use the elavator to get there. Normally, I would be mildly insulted by the folks that vacated the elevator on my account, but I didn't care. Yoo, lookin' at me, Mr. and Mrs. Tourist? That's right. That's bird ^%$#, yo you want somma this? Welcome to NYC.

At any rate, the stains didn't come out, despite vigorous scrubbing. More funny looks from tourists. One European man even looked like he wanted to take my picture... To close out this little anecdote, I end up rummaging at a tacky souvenir shop for the least offensive shirt I could find, and ended up presenting in that.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Eye see your point

Bone dry. That's what my eyes are these days. I've got a criss-cross interstate maze of capillaries that makes me look like I've been smoking something (but not inhaled) or that I haven't slept in a week or so. Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes! That order would have made me a hero at Bunker Hill had I been in the British ranks that day.

But I digress.

I think my eyes are getting dry because the plugs that were installed in my tear ducts need to be replaced. These apparently prevent my tears from draining too quickly; analogous to when the kids flush half a roll of toilet paper to see what happens. The thought makes me squeamish. Funny, because years ago, I was a daily contact wearer, and poking around my eyeballs was a common ritual. In fact, had there been an itch, I probably wouldn't have thought twice about scratching my orbits with the tip of a pencil. Hey now, that's dangerous, you may say. Please, I'm not stupid -- pencils these days are made of graphite, so no fear of lead poisoning there.

Made the call though, plug reinstall set for July 5.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Mmm...good

Walked by some grade-school kids doing a fund-raiser for their school band. Typically, one sees these tykes hawking repackaged Hershey's or Nestle Crunch bars, but this time, it was dangerously different:

Endangered Species Chocolate!

Imagine, rich chunks of African rhino in every bite! Betcha bite a Loggerneck Turtle Chip! For the smaller packages, you'd have fun-size (TM) morsels of Pacific Pocket Mouse.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005


I was watching Dumbo with the kids the other day, and we got to talking about how cool it'd be to see a real flying elephant. Then I started to think about how annoyed I get when *pigeons* flying overhead relieve themselves on my car... Posted by Hello

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Financial Fun

Today, I responded to one of those "Free Initial Consultation with an Amex Advisor!" ads. They say FUD in marketing works, and this is certainly a good example. Excerpt: "... ignore this generous offer and face a life of abject poverty hanging out by the highway on-ramp during rush hour so you can panhandle some change and drown your sorrows in Mad Dog 20/20. Forward to 30 of your friends or face impending doom." Hook, line, and sinker. Before I knew it, my fingers were dialing...
 

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