Perils of Caffeine in the Evening

Do you think you could give me a lift?

While you’re at it, do you think you could bring $30 grand?

I’m blogging from the 540 bus crossing 520.  Just thought I’d mention that.

I’ve been meaning to re-initiate my prior practice of biking to the University District, throwing my bike on the front of a bus and riding over to my client’s in Redmond, but I always seem to be pairing my trips over there with other stops that obviate either bike garb or biking itself.

The reason I have to use the bus at all is because there is no bike lane on the 520 bridge, as there is on the I-90 bridge 5 miles to the south.  And, yes, I could turn it into a 50-mile round-trip commute by riding an excellent bike trail that goes around the north end of Lake Washington, but I’m too lazy.  No, I’m not sure I could do it without more specific bike training.

The big advantage of doing this is in the evenings, when the 520 bridge backs up and sometimes subjects me to an hour’s commute.  The bus is not immune from all traffic jams - that’s the downside of surface-level mass transit as opposed to dedicated rail - but it does get to use a commuter lane on the approach to the bridge.

Later that same day…

Thankfully, transit Darwinism isn’t always fatal, although there were several opportunities.  Last fall when I was doing this commute, the 540 bus rolled to within a block of my Redmond client.  Over the winter, however, they apparently changed the route, and imagine my surprise when they announced Kirkland as the last stop.  7 miles and one good hill climb from my client’s.

Since I’m quite unfamiliar with the streets over here on the east side, I was in some trouble.  But the biggest shock was having to climb the hill out of Kirkland.  Finally made it, sweating unattractively.

Now, I’m on my way home on a different bus route, one that stops at the Microsoft campus, and guess what?  It (the bus) has wi-fi.  I’m goinig to press “post” now and you, lucky readers, won’t have to wait until I get home for this exciting missive.

I’m home from my work week in Milwaukee, after mildly adventurous travel experiences. They had a storm system pass through southeastern Wisconsin during the hours leading up to my departure flight, moving southwest to northeast and passing the Milwaukee airport just before my flight was to depart. Inbound aircraft were delayed, yada, yada, and my scheduled flight looked like it was sliding close to missing my 9:30 connection to Seattle in Minneapolis (the last one of the day). A helpful agent got me reassigned to an earlier flight to Minneapolis, which would not have been available without the aforementioned delays, and printed me two new boarding passes, which included my original first-class seat on the Seattle flight.

The weather passed on to the east, and I got to Minneapolis in plenty of time. At boarding time for Seattle, I presented my boarding pass to the gate agent, but it wouldn’t scan. He played with his screen for a bit, and said that I wasn’t checked in for the flight. They had given my precious seat 1D away, and there were no first-class seats left. Kind of a jolt, since the flight was full, but he found me an exit-row seat in coach, so I didn’t suffer unduly. I watched wistfully as libations were distributed in the front section, but got a good portion of my book (Another Country, James Baldwin) read, and also caught a few z-z-z-z’s.

I’ve developed a peculiar way of sleeping on airplanes. The central problem is that, when one is asleep, his head becomes an uncontrolled projectile, not unlike the old playground tetherballs. Because the seats on a plane only recline a couple of inches this head is hardly supported at all, and, full of blood, nervous tissue and whatever one has imbibed prior to departure, tends to lurch forward or, more problematically, cant sideways towards the shoulder of a neighbor where, 99% of the time, it is unwelcome. (This is also the point where an unfortunate amount of saliva has bestrewn the chin and cheeks, a possible explanation).

Window seats are not much of a problem - I just find a spot against the side of the fuselage to lean. Middle and aisle seats are more difficult, but I’ve found a way to sort of tuck my chin into the hollow behind my clavicle, where it tends to stay affixed. It’s sort of like a bird with a beak tucked under its wing. I wake with a little soreness in my neck, but surprisingly refreshed.

I know you can get those neck-ring pillows, and I’ve got one, but I already carry so much stuff that I’m unwilling to devote space in my backpack to it.

A chilly, rainy weekend, but a weekend nonetheless, yawns before me.

This article will satisfy neither camp in the culture wars. While it seems to indicate that Darwin is losing influence (the guy lived), it also resoundingly refutes the concept of Intelligent Design. From today’s P-I:

SOUTHWORTH — A man trying to loosen a stubborn lug nut blasted the wheel with a 12-gauge shotgun, injuring himself badly in both legs, Kitsap County sheriff’s deputies said.

The 66-year-old man had been repairing the car for two weeks at his home northwest of Southworth and east of Port Orchard and had gotten all but one lug nut off the right rear wheel before getting frustrated Saturday, Deputy Scott Wilson said.

From about arm’s length the man fired the shotgun at the wheel and was “peppered” in both legs with 00 buckshot and other debris.

Wilson described the injuries as “severe but not life-threatening.”

Folks on my Ohio State newsgroups are aghast at this revelation yesterday that our 3rd string quarterback, who had all but ascended to the 2-deep and had gotten most of the backup playing time in our nailbiter against Northwestern Saturday, was arrested after offering an undercover officer $20 for sex.

It’s not that they’re surprised that a teenager might evince a sex drive - they’re dumbfounded, and I think their pride’s a little hurt, that a Buckeye quarterback feels a need to pay for sex. The archivists are bloodying their nails searching for a precedent. I remember once when I was a student at OSU and experiencing some of that special loneliness characterized by animal head ornamentation, two really hot women walked into the lobby of my dorm, picked up the house phone^* and cold-called the 2nd-string quarterback, Ron Maciejowski. (the kid got to start once a year when Rex Kern would take the Wisconsin game off.) Completely ignoring yours truly, who was no doubt picturesquely pretending to study. Dagger to the heart, that.

Another surprise for me is the apparent Seattle/Columbus exchange rate. Around here, $50 is a cheap dinner for two, and I wouldn’t bet on the chances of a cheap dinner getting you laid.  Some on my OSU list were wondering if the deep discount might have been an NCAA violation if consummated.

The best reportage I’ve seen of the incident comes from the always-hilarious EDSBS (Every Day Should Be Saturday). They hit us where we live with the caption “I-O! H-O!”

* - The more perceptive of you will notice the absence of the terms “cell phone” or “texting” in this anecdote

A couple of us were startled a bit ago when we tried to dial up a familiar website and our browsers returned the following (Click to enlarge):

I wonder how much they’d pay me to get it back if I bought it. Our browsers may have some redirecting spyware going on; or, some poor miscreant at The Borg forgot to renew the domain name. Would suck to be him, methinks.

UPDATE: - While entertaining, this was ultimately a problem at my client’s ISP, and the Microsoft domain remains unsullied.

President Bush, center, is presented with a Seattle Seahawks football jersey by quarterback Matt Hasselbeck, right, and running back Mack Strong during a fundraiser for Rep. Dave Reichert, R-Wash., and the Washington State Republican Party on Monday, Aug. 27, 2007, in Bellevue, Wash. (AP Photo/Ken Lambert, Pool) (Ken Lambert)

AP

I don’t really follow the Seahawks that closely, but I’m thinking that this year, their opponent’s speedrusher is going to be my favorite player each week.

Very uninspired lately and, especially this week, listless. As in, barely able to complete a sentence or remember all the words to “Daisy”. I have to leave for Milwaukee Saturday night, and have a mountain of work work to accomplish before I leave. When I come home, it will be September, and I’m kind of resenting being jilted by August, who’s spent the month out playing while I’m earning a living.

Tangentially related to that, the following came across my desk this morning:

Again, we deeply regret any inconvenience the errors in our scanning process have caused you, and we greatly appreciate your assistance in helping us resolve this matter. If you have any questions, you may call us at 1-800-829-0115.

Source: IRS Stakeholder Liaison’s Office

“Stakeholder”. Heh. When did the Vampire’s Guild establish diplomatic relations with Buffy?

(Actually, I’ve never had a problem with the IRS that wasn’t self-inflicted, and even then I find them courteous and helpful, as long as I am as well. That makes this post eminently qualified for the category below.)

I’m having trouble getting my lobes around this headline:

AL Notes: Elbow soreness lands Colon on DL

THE ASSOCIATED PRESS