It's all fun and games...

....until your brick falls off.

Observations from jury duty

I reported to district court for possible jury duty this morning.  Unfortunately, I wasn't selected to sit on the jury.  [Yes, I'm the sort of person who thinks jury duty is exciting.] 

However, I did walk away with a few notable observations.

1. As I walked through the metal detector to enter the building, the security guard called me sir multiple times.  If you're unable to discern my gender during an ocular pat down, I have no faith in your ability to maintain safety.
   
2. There appeared to be a disproportionate number of individuals with neck tattoos in and around the courthouse.  This begs the question:  Does criminal activity lead to neck tattoos, or do neck tattoos lead to criminal behavior?
   
3. The defense attorney for today's trial appeared to be or have been some type of fighter.  He was a short, sinewy little guy with a missing incisor and a cauliflower ear.  I could not stop staring at his ear, so it may be a good thing that I wasn't selected to sit on the jury.
   

Wrap Your Brick: A LEGO PSA

Bricking Bad

This is what happens when I combine 2 seasons of Breaking Bad, a new shipment of LEGO, and benadryl.

Halfothermia: A Childhood of Inadequate Heat

It's currently 2 degrees Fahrenheit outside.  Despite this, I sit inside my own home, all toasty and warm.

Central heat in my home is still a luxury I do not take for granted.  Growing up, I spent every winter in a state of halfothermia.  What is halfothermia, you ask?  Well, it's what happens to you when you have inadequate heating sources, leaving half your body covered in sweat and the other half icy cold. 

If you've experienced the glorious, searing heat of a pot belly stove, a Stokermatic/Combustioneer, or the always indoor safe kerosene heater, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  If not, let me illustrate for you.

Old pot belly stove - a contraption like this heated my grandfather's home

Above is a rough floor plan of my grandfather's house.  The orangish-red circle is where his pot belly stove was located.  The only warm place to sit in the house was in one of the chairs adjacent to the pot belly stove.  However, if you sat there, you would always end up with halfothermia (and stuck to the nearly melted faux leather chair).  You'd also have to set an alarm throughout the night to add more coal to the fire to make sure it didn't go out.  After all, inadequate heat is better than no heat at all.

Stokermatic - an abominable machine similar to the Combustioneer that my parents used to heat their home; the vents in the front blow hot, dry air into the room

   

Here you have a rough diagram of my parents' home.  The red circle shows where their Combustioneer was located.  Given it's large coal hopper and fan to blow heat, this is definitely an improvement over a pot belly stove.  Still, the range was limited.  During really cold times, my parents would sit a kerosene heater in the middle of the kitchen floor and fire it up to warm the back bedrooms while we slept.  This, of course, always lead to halfothermia with a side of carbon monoxide poisoning, as I have no recollection of anyone ever cracking a window while using that kerosene heater indoors.

Come to think of it, I'm just grateful to have survived childhood.  Central heat is a just a pleasant bonus in adulthood.

DreamWorks' Turbo: Speedy Snail, or Transitioning Tale?

Last night, I watched Dreamworks’ Turbo.  This may be my new favorite movie with a transgender theme.

What?  You thought Turbo was just a silly movie about a racing snail?  If you look beyond that façade, you’ll see a film that captures the transitioning process for a transgender person.  Don’t believe me?  Then follow along.

The main character of the film is Theo.  He calls himself Turbo and longs to move at lightning speeds.  On the outside, he’s just another garden snail, but he knows and feels that he is fast.   

Turbo, realizing his true self and his physical self are at odds

He is ridiculed by his peers for the painted race car numbers and checkered flags that adorn his shell.  His brother, Chet, tells him that he is not fast and will never be fast, because that’s not how nature designed him.  He also tells Theo/Turbo that he needs to learn to accept his nature and limitations for his own good and the good of their community.  

Chet telling Turbo it's better to fit in than be one's self.

A despondent Theo/Turbo then ventures away from home, where he undergoes a chemical transformation and suddenly has the ability to move at speeds over 200 mph.  He meets a group of racing snails and societal misfits who help him complete his physical transformation.   

Turbo, realizing for the first time that's he's not alone

He embraces his new, true self and flourishes in the support of others.  Initially, Chet refuses to address him as Turbo and tries to get him to suppress his new found speed.  Eventually, though, Chet embraces his brother for who he really is, and Turbo is able to enjoy the love and respect of his family and his new friends.

Turbo, fully transformed

See what I mean?  Turbo is basically a transitioning story with an “It Gets Better” ending.  And, honestly, I like my animated features to end happily ever after, because life too often doesn't.    

I have found religion

Yesterday, my friend Emily and I had a cat-centric conversation, as we are wont to do.  

Emily:  Happy National Cat Day!

Me:  Yes!

Emily:  We should get to stay home and play with our pets today!

Me:  Maybe we should claim cats as our religion?

Emily:  YES!!

Me:  I mean, like God (and Santa), my cats watch everything I do.  And they judge me.  

Emily:  HAHAHAHAHA

After searching for my own personal pet and savior for years, I have finally come to accept the godly qualities of my beloved Felis catus.  For instance, Felis catus:

1) is ever-present and watchful

2) passes judgment 

3) behaves in strange and mysterious ways

4) often makes its presence known in the dark quiet of the night

5) inconsistently responds to supplication

6) kills indiscriminately

7) demands offerings and unquestioning devotion

8) provides comfort and solace in times of distress. 

I hereby proclaim myself a faithful Feliscatusian.  My primary worship activities shall include napping, eating, and licking.  All new converts shall receive a ceremonial catnip sachet.