Oh That's So Ironic

I got an email today from Norton Anitvirus titled: How To Get Rid Of Your Junk Mail!. The irony of the situation was unavoidable as I followed the instructions to unsubscribe myself from future mailings.

Again, I'm sitting in an airport, so again I fire up the ol' blogger. It's too early to call anyone, and there's nothing interesting on facebook. Admittedly, I feel pretty self-conscious right now sitting here on my little netbook, blogging away with my noise-reduction headphones, sipping my Starbucks vanilla late, being all trendy and hip. If I had a Timbuk2 satchel, square-framed glasses, and some classic Russian literature next to me (with post-it page reminders), you would not be in the wrong to slap me upside the head, sending my headphones flipping through the air in perfectly ironic little twirls.

But I don't. So please don't hit me.

In fact, despite my hipster-guise, I am most likely going to be quite the popular guy at Delta gate #20. Because I am a ticket-holding passenger in an airport one day after a flight-cancelling snowstorm. That means if I am willing to change my plans, I stand to make a nice little profit on my ticket. I brought sidewalk chalk and a poster-board with me for just this occasion. Next to me sits a sign that says "Please have all offers in written form and signed", and the chalk outlines the a switchback line. I await the throngs of desperate wealthy business travelers who will sign away the keys to their BMW to make that all-important meeting in Minneapolis today (I only accept 2006 models and later, unless proper and present warranty information is disclosed). So please, form an orderly single-file line. No personal checks.

And please stop knocking my headphones off. They are quite expensive.

Blog-o-sphere

I felt that it would be mildly appropriate, and notably pun-worthy, to add to the blogosphere while I am high in the troposphere. This is the first time that I have been able to enjoy wifi internet on an airplane, and I can tell you right now, it is awesome. Thank you Skynet... I mean Google, for your seemingly charitable contribution of free internet. I hope that when you activate all of our laptops with your secret Google-Signal and they grow legs and little laser-beam-mind-melting-death-rays to enslave humanity, you will remember the kind words I have spread on your behalf. If I see John Connor, I would be happy to report him directly to you.

This experience of in-flight internet just seems too good to be true for a cheapskate, back-row flier like myself. I've never flown first class, never used an in-flight phone, and never purchased any food (since the time I got food poisoning from the fish). So to have instant access to the world of facebook, gmail, and facebook makes me feel like I living in a lap of luxury. 

Sadly, my first reaction when I heard about the wifi (which is presented on a bumper sticker "Free Wifi!" on the exterior of the plane next to the entrance bulkhead) was that of relief. I have never been on a flight without thinking, even if just for a fleeting moment, that this might be my last days on earth. But now, if something goes tragically wrong with the plane, I will be able to at least send out a quick email, or maybe a facebook post like "Whelp... I had a good run!" followed shortly by "P.S. better watch out if you live in the Buffalo, NY area". Afterward, I would have a few remaining seconds to friend some random people, so they really freak out when they look my name up the next day.

But that's the alarmist in me speaking. After all, in Malcolm Richard's book "The Tipping Point", he outlines how many checks and balances go into keeping a plane safe. He points out that a total of 7 things need to go wrong for a plane to actually go down. For some people that seems like a lot. I would still feel better if that number were closer to 250, or if the plane were only made out of 6 pieces. "You know we're sitting on four million pounds of fuel, one nuclear weapon and a thing that has 270,000 moving parts built by the lowest bidder. Makes you feel good, doesn't it? "

Happy Holidays everyone. Travel safely, and keep an eye on your laptops...

Feel like you missed a reference or two? Stop having such a productive life and watch more movies. Most notably: Terminator, Transformers, Airplane!, Armageddon

While I think that Ethan and Joel Coen swung and missed on their last venture "A Serious Man", it looks like they are back on track with "Tru Grit". I think they took a step backwards into the realm of the Josh Brolin/western/all-around-bad-ass aura that won them an Oscar. If there are two things that the Coen brother's can do well, they are rural-set films (No Country, O' Brother), and Jeff Bridges (Lebowski, Hyundai commercials).

Just like I don't usually want to read the book before I see a movie, because it ruins the experience, I don't think I want to watch the original "True Grit" first. Actually, after watching the trailer, I don't think I ever want to see the original.

Cram Session

Arduous, vexed, spent

Organic Chemistry: hard

Haiku's are easy

Racing

Ski racing isn't what it once was for me. In the past, I would spend countless hours of my spring summer and fall training: running, rollerskiing, and weight lifting. Actually the hours weren't countless, they were in fact very counted. And not only were they counted, but they were categorized, organized and analyzed. Did I do enough intervals this year? How much of my distance training was done above a heart rate of 160 BPM?

Now, however, ski training is something that happens when I get too antsy to sit still on front of a book or computer. In fact, I wouldn't even call it "training", but more of an attempt not to lose every ounce of general fitness that I once possessed.

I was looking forward to starting off this year's racing schedule off with a nice little 6K. Hardly a race, it's more aptly labeled a time-trial. So when I lined up at the starting line with about 6 other skiers, I was content in knowing that we could cruise through the race at a very reasonable pace, and I could successfully hide how truly out of shape I am.

That idea, went straight to hell when I realized that one of the six skiers has ACTUALLY BEEN TRAINING! I know, right? In a situation like that, the only reasonable thing to do is let the faster skier move ahead and realize that it doesn't make sense to kill yourself on what is essentially the first hard workout of the year.

Well, "reason" and I sat down together a long time ago and amicable agreed to never set foot in the same room. So I had no choice but to make my poor legs and lungs follow this far better trained athlete for as...long...as...I...possibly...could... (spoken in a gritty voice through clenched teeth).

No "citizen racer" is going to beat me! I said to my self, in scolding tone. Sadly, it took me until lap 4 of 4 to realize that I am now a "citizen racer" as well. And as I glided past the finish line in 2nd place, bent over my knees like I was just hit in the chest by a sledge hammer, reality struck me. It hit me pretty hard too, because I was in the lodge for 20 minutes after that with my head on my arms at the table, trying with ever ounce of my body, not to die of self-inflicted injuries.

I can just see "reason" laughing over there in the corner (in a different room). And reason keeps telling me not to go back next week...