Sometimes I think that I'm the inspiration for the phrase "too clever for your own good" (part 5).
Take my recent experience in my new (used) Dodge Caliber. I had bought it the new-fangled way (online, sight unseen, from a dealer in Ohio who drove it to Chicago for me), and fought back my skepticism that it was a scam at each turn along the way. I took it on the road for the first time to run errands, loading it up and taking it on the highway. Hitting 70 for the first time, the dashboard monitor suddenly flashed "9 ate", and I immediately started to panic. My first thought was that it was the moment I would learn my new car bought so modernly was a lemon (despite its sunburst orange color). Then my mind immediately went to an image of the tires flying off because I had somehow gotten it to its maximum speed. But at no time could I decipher what my car was trying to tell me. What was 9 -- a reference to a speed? A sector on the car? And what was eaten? Was a belt ready to snap? I drove with trepidation, sure only of the fact that my demise was imminent and that my only salvation was to solve the riddle being provided me.
It took me way too long to figure out that I hadn't closed the hatchback door properly, and that my car was warning me to check the "gate".
DODGE CALIBER SUPPORT GROUP?:
http://www.caliberforumz.com/showthread.php?t=8425
MORE IMPORTANT "9 ATE" WARNING LIGHTS:
http://kansascity.injuryboard.com/mass-transit-accidents/update-cn-railroad-officials-admit-warning-lights-gate-not-working-in-deadly-chicago-train-crash.aspx?googleid=280486
Showing posts with label Series: Too Clever for your own Good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Series: Too Clever for your own Good. Show all posts
July 29, 2010
July 22, 2010
Random Thought for Thursday 7/22/10
Sometimes I think that I'm the inspiration for the phrase "too clever for your own good" (part 4).
Take my insistence on wearing a green long-underwear shirt to Six Flags one warm summer day in my youth in the nineties. My friends told me I would be too warm (the whole group went on this trip -- we were too disorganized to be a gang, too white to be a posse, and too worried about word association to be a clan -- of course, that would have been with a 'C' and not a 'K'). But I insisted that there was always a cool breeze off the ocean, and since we were off to Six Flags NJ, I'd be just fine as I was (thank you very much).
As soon as we hit the noon hour, I was drenched in sweat and was forced to buy clothes at the Six Flags gift shop so that I didn't die of heat stroke. In addition to having to deal with the fact that the green dyes of the long john shirt had now seeped into the pores of my arms, turning them some odd sickly color, I also had to wear the wife-beater I had just purchased with the amusement park logo of that season on it. My friends, only too happy to put me in my place for having to have listened to my stubbornness earlier in the day, would perform a call and response routine for the rest of the day. One would yell "WANT MORE" (on the front of my new purchase) ... and another would holler out what was on the back -- "NEED MORE". Much to my "delight", that exchange will still happen at random times to this very day (some twenty years later).
SEABREEZE IS MORE THAN AN ASTRINGENT:
http://www.srh.noaa.gov/jetstream/ocean/seabreezes.htm
ALTHOUGH THIS SAYS IT IS DISCONTINUED!:
http://www.medshopexpress.com/039541.html
WANT MORE SIX FLAGS HISTORY? NEED MORE SIX FLAGS INFO?:
http://investors.sixflags.com/phoenix.zhtml?c=61629&p=irol-homeprofile
Take my insistence on wearing a green long-underwear shirt to Six Flags one warm summer day in my youth in the nineties. My friends told me I would be too warm (the whole group went on this trip -- we were too disorganized to be a gang, too white to be a posse, and too worried about word association to be a clan -- of course, that would have been with a 'C' and not a 'K'). But I insisted that there was always a cool breeze off the ocean, and since we were off to Six Flags NJ, I'd be just fine as I was (thank you very much).
As soon as we hit the noon hour, I was drenched in sweat and was forced to buy clothes at the Six Flags gift shop so that I didn't die of heat stroke. In addition to having to deal with the fact that the green dyes of the long john shirt had now seeped into the pores of my arms, turning them some odd sickly color, I also had to wear the wife-beater I had just purchased with the amusement park logo of that season on it. My friends, only too happy to put me in my place for having to have listened to my stubbornness earlier in the day, would perform a call and response routine for the rest of the day. One would yell "WANT MORE" (on the front of my new purchase) ... and another would holler out what was on the back -- "NEED MORE". Much to my "delight", that exchange will still happen at random times to this very day (some twenty years later).
SEABREEZE IS MORE THAN AN ASTRINGENT:
http://www.srh.noaa.gov/jetstream/ocean/seabreezes.htm
ALTHOUGH THIS SAYS IT IS DISCONTINUED!:
http://www.medshopexpress.com/039541.html
WANT MORE SIX FLAGS HISTORY? NEED MORE SIX FLAGS INFO?:
http://investors.sixflags.com/phoenix.zhtml?c=61629&p=irol-homeprofile
July 15, 2010
Random Thought for Thursday 7/15/10
Sometimes I think that I'm the inspiration for the phrase "too clever for your own good" (part 3).
Take my attempts to put together a build-your-own-furniture desk for my home office using the alan wrench that was supplied in the box I brought home from Hills many many years ago. My friends walked in on me when I was almost done, and immediately commented on my bright pink, almost bloody fingertips. Turns out that I never thought to rotate the wrench so that I could apply pressure and turn the long end as I tightened the assorted pieces. I was painfully turning the short end over and over again until I completed the task. After all, if I made it longer it would be more like a screwdriver! [I probably put the square pegs in the round holes in my middle school ASVAB test, too.] Not many gatherings with my friends back home will go by without the telling of this story to put me in my place!
IF ONLY THE INTERNET WAS AROUND BACK IN THE DAY:
http://www.popularmechanics.com/home/reviews/hand-tools/4313471
EVEN THE ASVAB IS ONLINE (NO MORE PEGS IN HOLES?):
http://www.military.com/ASVAB
Take my attempts to put together a build-your-own-furniture desk for my home office using the alan wrench that was supplied in the box I brought home from Hills many many years ago. My friends walked in on me when I was almost done, and immediately commented on my bright pink, almost bloody fingertips. Turns out that I never thought to rotate the wrench so that I could apply pressure and turn the long end as I tightened the assorted pieces. I was painfully turning the short end over and over again until I completed the task. After all, if I made it longer it would be more like a screwdriver! [I probably put the square pegs in the round holes in my middle school ASVAB test, too.] Not many gatherings with my friends back home will go by without the telling of this story to put me in my place!
IF ONLY THE INTERNET WAS AROUND BACK IN THE DAY:
http://www.popularmechanics.com/home/reviews/hand-tools/4313471
EVEN THE ASVAB IS ONLINE (NO MORE PEGS IN HOLES?):
http://www.military.com/ASVAB
July 8, 2010
Random Thought for Thursday 7/8/10
Sometimes I think that I'm the inspiration for the phrase "too clever for your own good" (part 2).
Take my middle school spelling bee experience. All things said, I do pretty OK around the English language when it comes to vocab (maybe not so much on grammar or Strunk and White's style points), and I can wake up and spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious or antidisestablishmentarianism first thing in the morning. But I was knocked out in the first round of the spelling bee in 7th grade on the word "vault" [what? vault. one more time? vault. that's not a word! vault. I don't know -- v-a-l-t?] and in 8th grade on the word "piano" [easy one - p-a-i-n-o (proving that haste makes Scrippsian waste)]. Always a good memory when a little humility is what the doctor ordered!
OFFICIAL WEBSITE OF THE SCRIPPS BEE:
http://www.spellingbee.com/
VAULT REALLY IS A WORD!:
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/vault?&qsrc=
STRUNK AND WHITE ONLINE:
http://www.bartleby.com/141/
Take my middle school spelling bee experience. All things said, I do pretty OK around the English language when it comes to vocab (maybe not so much on grammar or Strunk and White's style points), and I can wake up and spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious or antidisestablishmentarianism first thing in the morning. But I was knocked out in the first round of the spelling bee in 7th grade on the word "vault" [what? vault. one more time? vault. that's not a word! vault. I don't know -- v-a-l-t?] and in 8th grade on the word "piano" [easy one - p-a-i-n-o (proving that haste makes Scrippsian waste)]. Always a good memory when a little humility is what the doctor ordered!
OFFICIAL WEBSITE OF THE SCRIPPS BEE:
http://www.spellingbee.com/
VAULT REALLY IS A WORD!:
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/vault?&qsrc=
STRUNK AND WHITE ONLINE:
http://www.bartleby.com/141/
July 1, 2010
Random Thought for Thursday 7/1/10
[I'm going to celebrate July with a new series for the next five Thursdays!]
Sometimes I think that I'm the inspiration for the phrase "too clever for your own good".
Take my first days of driving in the early nineties. For quite some time I stopped at the gas stations to fill up my tank in my first car and was convinced that my choices of petrol (87, 89, 91) were the years they were processed (you know, just like wine). Feeding this fallacy in my head was that, the older the gasoline, the cheaper it was because it had started to "spoil". But then, as I aged, they never seemed to offer the "latest vintage", and eventually someone educated me on that the 87, 89 and 91 were octanes and not markings of the year of production.
SEARCHING IN URBAN DICTIONARY FOR THIS PHRASE LEADS TO THIS!:
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=too+clever+for+your+own+good
PEOPLE COMPLAIN ABOUT ANYTHING ONLINE:
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20100525081058AAHY8eH
Sometimes I think that I'm the inspiration for the phrase "too clever for your own good".
Take my first days of driving in the early nineties. For quite some time I stopped at the gas stations to fill up my tank in my first car and was convinced that my choices of petrol (87, 89, 91) were the years they were processed (you know, just like wine). Feeding this fallacy in my head was that, the older the gasoline, the cheaper it was because it had started to "spoil". But then, as I aged, they never seemed to offer the "latest vintage", and eventually someone educated me on that the 87, 89 and 91 were octanes and not markings of the year of production.
SEARCHING IN URBAN DICTIONARY FOR THIS PHRASE LEADS TO THIS!:
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=too+clever+for+your+own+good
PEOPLE COMPLAIN ABOUT ANYTHING ONLINE:
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20100525081058AAHY8eH
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