Month: May 2021

Story: 2021, Week 20 – Quarantine, Chapter 1: Surprise!

Alright, this is a day late. And I wanted to let this play out a little bit. It’s unapologetically weird. And it’s in chapters! Chapter 1 today, and I hope to get new chapters soon (like, maybe tomorrow? Saturday? Soon…). Okay, let’s see how Amie’s pandemic started…

Monday, March 2, 2020 started pretty normally. I woke up late – normal. I found a mostly clean dress and set a reminder to do laundry – still normal. Put food down for William Ignatius George Grover Lawrence Eliot Smith II (my cat, WIGGLES) – normal. He looked at me, looked at the food, then looked back at me like, “This is the best you’ve got?”

“Yes, Wiggles, that’s what you’re getting.”

He looked back at his food. Then back at me like “You wore that dress on Friday.”

“I know, Wiggles, I know,” I said tying my hair back. “We’re doing laundry tonight.”

He meowed dismissively and begrudgingly started eating his cat food.

I recognized that I need to stop having imaginary conversations with my cat – still normal.

Balanced my grande non-fat chai latte and my breakfast sandwich as I hit the button for the second floor. Didn’t spill anything (okay, very little), hung up my purse, started my computer booting, leaned back in my chair and took a long breath and tried to get myself into the headspace for a new week – normal. 

“You know you they frown at sleeping on the job,” a voice startled me and I jumped in my seat. “Whoa! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Peter!” I said, trying to regain my composure. He was early and I wasn’t prepared to flirt this early – okay, so, yeah, this is the start where things got less normal. “Ahem, sorry, just, you know, meditating for the new week. What, err, how was your weekend?”

He smiled.

I melted.

“Good, good. Have you checked your email yet?” he looked past me and saw my machine just got to the Windows log in. “Oh, guess not.”

“No, what’s up? Who’s fired?”

“No, no one. It’s that virus…”

“Ooh,” I leaned forward, “Who got a virus? Was it from porn? Who downloaded porn at work? Eliot in QA, right? It was totally Eliot!”

“What?” Peter looked confused. “No, no, not that kind of virus. That Covid 19 one that came over from China?”

“That’s a lot less exciting than Eliot getting busted for porn,” I said. I looked at my watch, “Day’s still early, though. He still might… Wait, Covid 19?”

“Weirdo,” he smiled again. Why does he keep doing that?!

I bowed my head. “Guilty,” I said. “So… Covid-19?”

“We’re going home. I’m heading out right now. Didn’t know if Dean talked to you guys yet?”

“Going home?”

“Work from home. Quarantine. Guess this shit’s serious!”

“What? Seriously?” My desk phone rang. “It’s Dean,” I said looking at the caller ID.

“That’s probably it. I’ll catch up with you later!” he said and then disappeared and all my plants immediately wilted for his absence.

“Dean, you’re here early,” I started. In his office, grab Terry and Jessica on the way. Peter was right, we were going home, quarantine indefinitely, do we have the necessary equipment to do our job from home, yada yada yada.

Not. Normal.

Back at my cube, I stared around, evaluated what I needed to take and headed home.

As I approached the door I heard the deep thumping bass. At 10am? Seemingly coming from my door? I took my pepper spray out of my purse and cautiously put my hand on the knob. I could feel the vibrations of the loud music through the cool metal. I listened… “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” by the Geto Boys? What the hell? I jiggled the knob experimentally and it was still locked.

I should have been scared. I probably should have retreated to my car and called the cops. But I was pissed my morning flirting was cut short. I was pissed someone was listening to tracks from the golden age of hip hop without me (the song had changed to Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth’s “They Reminisce Over You”)! Someone’s getting pepper sprayed.

Here was my plan: quietly unlock the door, throw it open with one hand out ready to pepper spray whoever’s in there and has great taste in hip hop. The other hand will be ready to dial 911. Lock clicked, placed my keys in my purse, keyed 911 on my phone with my left thumb hovering over the dial button. Pepper spray ready, I threw open the door.

First thing I noticed was the disco ball. That was not hanging from the ceiling when I left. Second thing, the orange couch. I loved it, but it wasn’t mine. Third thing, my cat, Wiggles, sitting on said couch like a person would, in the middle of taking a rip off a bong that was literally the same size as him.

So far from normal I couldn’t find normal on a goddamn map.

My pepper spray clattered to the floor.

“What the fuck?!”

I said it. Wiggles said it. Well, coughed it as he nearly dropped the green bong. The goat that stood in front of him caught the teetering glass cylinder in his horns.

“Good catch, Chuck,” Wiggles said to the goat.

“No, seriously, what the fuck?!” I yelled.

Wiggles looked back at me. “Uh Oh….” Appropriately, the song changed to “Scenario” by Tribe Called Quest. The cat stared at me. I stared at the cat. ‎Phife Dawg flowed on the track. Wiggles snapped (I still don’t understand how) and the music stopped, the goat disappeared, as did the disco ball. The couch, too, was replaced with my boring beige free couch. It was my house again. Wiggles flipped from his seated position to a more standard four-legged standing position, tilted his head and let out a perfectly normal, “Meow?”

Selfie: 2021, Week 20 – Better Late Than Never

According to my self-imposed publishing schedule for Selfies, this was due last night. So I’m late. But I’m still getting it in, and that’s important – “Better Late Than Never” is a truism that should be tattooed on my forehead along with “Perfect is the enemy of progress.”

I’ve been resuscitating a bathroom vanity and time got away from me. It started a few weeks ago with shoring up a drawer whose face pulled off and then this weekend I built a new big bottom drawer to replace the one that was disintegrating. While the drawer build went really well in and of itself, it uncovered other faults, which necessitated other fixes… Last night as the clock ticked past ten, Akilah finally said, “You need to throw in the towel for the night.”

“But…. But… but… it’s not finished yet!”

But I was done. I twisted my back wrong a few hours before, and contorting myself on the ground trying to install new drawer sliders into an installed vanity wasn’t doing my posture any favors… Yeah, good advice, Akilah… But I was late finishing a project that was supposed to be done on Saturday. It’s about 85% there. And it saves replacing the vanity for a few more years.

I’ve come to woodworking late. Regrettably, I didn’t take a wood shop class in school, but I always wanted to. My family isn’t exactly do-it-yourself oriented. Don’t get me wrong, some of my brothers and sisters (and their significant others) have taken up the mantle and have made impressive accomplishments. But my tool inheritance from my dad was a corded drill that looked like he inherited it and a pair of rusty vice grips. I remember him aghast that my brother Jay was going to change his own oil on his own car. The nerve!

But I always wanted to get into wood working – mostly out of a sense that, sure, that product is nice, but… I’d prefer it to be just a little different. My coffee table I bought from a big box store years ago – I love it. It’s got a top that lifts up and works great as either a laptop workspace or a makeshift dinner table… but what if it had wheels? So, I had to re-engineer the legs but in the process, I not only gave it wheels but allowed for more storage.

Understand, I’m not a great woodworker. I count myself as competent. I don’t say that to demean myself, just recognizing my limitations – I’m terrible at finishing projects (as in applying a finish), I’ve never made something out of “good” wood (too expensive!), and I’ve gotten bitten when I’ve only measured once instead of twice before cutting. But it’s a process. I’m getting better.

And I find I look at the world around me differently. “What kind of joinery is this?” “How did they accomplish that cut?” “How would I do this differently?” I think that’s a benefit of coming to something later in life – you approach things with a little more patience, a little more consideration, a little more carefully.

I try to go out of my way to learn new things as often as possible, and wood working falls into that category. Sometimes it’s a new piece of software – recently I’ve been trying to pick up Adobe Premiere. And sometimes I’ll learn something… and then promptly forget it – like how to use my ham radio. I’m the type of person who needs to use something regularly to really get it. In the little river valley that Guerneville sits in, the reach of my handheld ham radio is pretty limited. Without regular practice, my skills go dormant. But, on the plus side, I’m fairly confident I could re-learn pretty quickly.

There’s only so many skills my brain can hold onto at a given time. Thinking about that vanity, was it worth it to spend so much time on it? I mean, the drawer I built is overkill for the vanity… but I don’t get to practice my drawer building techniques too often (if you’re wondering, I used the ¼ ¼ ¼ method, though scaled up to 3/8, 3/8, 3/8; that’s me setting up the dado stack on my table saw in preperation). And once I discovered other issues that had to be corrected, my brain went into creative problem-solving mode – given that the vanity is installed in a bathroom and can’t be removed, how do you shore up the carcass and replace the rotten parts without undoing any plumbing? There were pocket holes. There was routing. I had to get pretty creative to get everything to fit and be stronger than when I got to it.

So, it’s anyone’s guess about whether the cost of materials and my time was quantifiably worth it in the end to shore up an aged vanity. But that’s really besides the point. I built a drawer I’m proud of, conquered my fear of installing drawer slides (well, maybe just subjugated it for some time), and improvised a solution that’s leaving the vanity much stronger than I came to it.

Or, well, it will be. I still have to put the face on that drawer, and clean things up. It’s not done yet. But it will be tomorrow! Better late than never!

Five Things This Week: 2021, week 19

The Teeny, Tiny Scientific Screwup That Helped Covid Kill
Wired
In the field of epidemiology the line between what constitutes droplets and an aerosol is 5 microns. Larger than 5 microns and it’s a droplet, and droplets don’t travel far. The Corona virus is larger than 5 microns and, therefore, wasn’t originally considered an aerosol, despite growing evidence to the contrary. In order to upend decades of this droplet/aerosol dichotomy — and, more importantly, slow the spread of the disease — scientists first had to figure out where the 5 micron definition came from.

The Case Against the Eagles
The Ringer
This does a nice job of explaining why, despite some objectively great songs, I really can’t stand the Eagles. I’ll admit, I’ve always liked Glen Fry, but I can’t speak to his character. I have, however, followed the, to be kind, irascible Don Henley. He’s an asshole. I’ll just put that out there. Which is sad because his songs are amazing. Aside from the Eagles you’ve got tracks like “End of The Innocence,” “Boys of Summer,” “Heart of the Matter” … But, wow, is he an asshole. Really, if you’re looking for the biggest jerks who make amazing music it’d be a fistfight between Don Henley and Van Morrison. And what’s tough is you see people bagging on nice artists all the time – folks clowning on Billy Joel, or Phil Collins. Sure, they can be fussy, but on most day’s they’re fine people. The Eagles in general and Don Henley in particular? Let’s just say I wouldn’t invite them to my party because they’d probably pee in the punch.

Has an Old Soviet Mystery at Last Been Solved?
The New Yorker
Have you heard of the Dyatlov pass incident? 1959 a group of nine young, experienced outdoors-people set off into the wilds of Siberia only to die mysteriously in the night – skull damage, major chest trauma, missing tongues and eyes, hypothermia. It’s nasty – and kind of spooky – stuff. Many theories have been put forth from the natural (avalanche) to the paranormal (Yeti, or, possibly, UFOs), to the conspiratorial (USSR weapons test gone awry, CIA/KGB meeting gone awry). I read Donnie Eichar’s detailed book Dead Mountain: The Untold True Story of the Dyatlov Pass Incident which concludes the wind across the mountain blew in a particular way that created infra-sound that terrified the hikers into fleeing. This article dismisses that theory in favor of a sort-of avalanche. It’s a good read and the explanation makes a lot of sense, even if many (most?) people involved still aren’t buying it.

Narcos and necromancy: Turf wars and black magic in Colombia
Telegraph UK
This story is as fascinating as it is disturbing. At this point I’m surprised anything can surprise me with these Narco cartels – from homemade submarines (there’s even a Netflix movie, “Narco Sub”!), to Narco hippos, it’s a macabre kind of crazy ingenuity and excess. But going to witches for an edge? You know, it’s not the strangest thing in the world…

“Electric” 
Katy Perry
That last Thing was pretty dark. Here’s your palette cleanser: this track and video dropped today and, people… people…. It’s Katy Perry. And Pikachu. KATY PERRY AND ARGUABLY THE MVP OF THE POKEMON FRANCHISE. Okay, okay, so does this track belong in the Katy Perry Pantheon of Bangers. No, no it does not. Does it pop? Yes, it still pops. Oh, and it’s got Pikachu in the video. Yes, I’m going to keep repeating Pikachu is in the video until you click on one of these damn links and go watch it on YouTube! Now go! It’s adorable. It’ll make you smile. Go!