From tob@cwis.unomaha.edu Fri May 21 15:23:10 1993
Return-Path: <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Received: from cwis.unomaha.edu by ccu.UManitoba.CA
(4.1/25-eef) id AA07430; Fri, 21 May 93 15:22:58 CDT
Received: by cwis.unomaha.edu (5.65/DEC-Ultrix/4.3)
id AA09145; Fri, 21 May 1993 15:22:38 -0500
Date: Fri, 21 May 1993 15:13:46 -0500 (CDT)
From: Tob Wood <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Sender: Tob Wood <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Reply-To: Tob Wood <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Subject: Tasty Tidbit
To: New Subscribers <agosewalt@acs.harding.edu>, bcforrest@acs.harding.edu,
bjdorris@acs.harding.edu, cdibble@acsu.buffalo.edu,
conleyja@dekalb.dc.peachnet.edu, griestk@wpi.WPI.EDU,
gt6877c@prism.gatech.edu, jaccetur@trumpet.calpoly.edu,
Nancy.Host@UC.edu, ndd2@cunixa.cc.columbia.edu,
phoenix@ctr.columbia.edu, starr@matt.ksu.ksu.edu,
tca001@acad.drake.edu, umdesch4@ccu.umanitoba.ca,
umwagne6@ccu.umanitoba.ca, wixer!wixer.bga.com!martini@cactus.org
Cc: Verbman <tatood1@cwis.unomaha.edu>, t <thomke@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Message-Id: <Pine.3.05.9305201315.A20733-e100000@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII
Status: O
As just another example of how bozotic my life can be, I thought I'd share
this little bit of Toblife:
My parents, the Honorable K. and J. Wood, are finally remodeling their
basement. This is not unusual; this is something that they've been wanting
to do for over 20 years. "So what?" I can hear all of you saying. But
what are they remodeling it into? I'm glad you asked.
They are remodeling the basement into a theatre.
No kidding.
Not a dramatic theatre, mind you, but a music theatre. Yes, my parents
are going to have concerts in the basement. Their house is quite small,
but with the completion of the basement, there will be a new venue for
traditional music in the state of Nebraska (USA). They have asked me to
design the light system (they already use my sound system). This is not
an odd request, as that's what I really do for a living (on good days!).
Originally, my Mom wanted track lighting. I had to explain to her that
track lighting was for illuminating things on walls, not people on stage.
Then she asked how I would go about doing it. I launched into a 30 minute
diatribe on form and technique of theatrical lighting fundamentals. She
bought it (that's what I went to college for, dammit!). So now I am Mr.
Design. The contractors will `build to suit' according to my
specifications, and then I'll waltz in there and polish the thing off.
Nobody can top a Tobsystem (well, Varilite(tm), Intellebeam(tm) and Clay
Paky(tm) not withstanding). So what does all this mean? I'll tell you:
Party at my parents'!
As you may or may not know, my parents go out of town for a week every
Labor Day weekend. These 5 days have been an excuse to have the
traditional (six years running) `Lizardparty' (Reynold is the star).
Yes, these are the 120 hour Tob Parties you have been told/warned about.
Five solid days of the most twistedly bizarre out-of-mind-body-and-soul
experience within a 400 mile radius. And now, with the completion of the
basement by Labor Day, it's going to be even better (or worse, depending
on how you look at it)!
They also want we to design the brick patio for the backyard. Pattern
networks are zipping through my head as I type.
{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}
My parents also have a band, but they're not building this theatre to
showcase themselves, even though I plan to use it to *exploit* me! Suckers.
My parents even have groupies now; the youngest are in their late
thirties. This cracks me up. I can't imagine what their groupies do,
after my personal experiences with that particular demographic
cross-section (maybe someday I'll tell some of those stories; I hinted at
it with the `Simplemania' name-origin story. How many of you got that
one? It was awhile ago.).
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !!!
NEXT!:
Since I am getting hungry, I am going to tell you to go to the store (I
go to the store every day because I only buy enough food to last me 24 hours).
And while you are thinking about going to the store, I'll tell you about
the salad I'd serve if I had a restaurant.
FOOD.SERV.FILE Commence as follows...
_ _ _ _
@@@@@ @ @ @@@@@ @@@@ @@@ @ @@@ @@@@ @@@@ @@@ @ @ @@@@
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @
@ @@@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@@@ @ @@@@@ @ @ @ @ @@@@@ @ @@@
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @
@ @ @ @@@@@ @@@@ @ @ @@@@ @ @ @@@@ @@@@ @ @ @ @@@@
[ This is the easy version; feel free to make from scratch at any time ]
Go to the store. Get a pound of pre-fab lettuce-chop-up-stuff-salad-greens-
mix-or-whatever. Get about 4 good sized carrots. Get an envelope of Good
Seasons Italian Dressing Mix (tm) and whatever you need to make it. Get a
box of whatever kind of croutons you like, and a jar of REAL bacon bits.
Wash and peel the carrots. Cut of their tips and heels, then use a
vegetable peeler (or a paring knife if you're that good) and shave the
carrots down as much as you can. Dice (or mince) any remainders. Throw a
good handful of carrot shavings into a bowl with about the same amount of
the lettuce-stuff. Sprinkle (to taste) bacon bits and croutons.
Liberally pour dressing over the whole "gal' darn thang" and toss
vehemenently. Eat with a fork and enjoy the flavor buzz. I would recommend
drinking watered down white grape juice with this; but if this is a precourse
to a beef dish, I suggest a cheap White Zinfandel (but if you're going to
eat a mushroom-pork dish later, drink a chardonnay: something from
California, and don't spend more than $6 U.S. [That would be about $9 Canadian
for my friends in ManiTOBa, and about 750 pesatas for Manuel in Madrid,
but he can get a better wine over there, now can't he?]).
Don't forget: You can substitute what ever you want that is available
locally for anything I have outlined. As a matter of fact, you can just
do whatever you damned well please and call it whatever you want! I'm
just here to point you in the right direction (yeah, like you don't know
how to make a salad! :-) )
# # # # # # # #
Oooh, I went to `Gene Loves Jezebel' last night. It was great. More details
coming up. But before I go on, the band that opened was `Low Pop Suicide'.
# @ @ @ @ @ @ @
It took me 45 minutes to turn on the TV today. It isn't my TV, it's my
new roommate Dave's. It has three remote controls. You have to press 4
(yes, no less than 4) power buttons just to turn the damned thing on. I
pressed them all. Nothing happened. I pressed them all a few more times.
Nothing happened. I pressed them each a dozen more times in random order
just because I was pissed and I will never let an inanimate object get the
best of me. Finally, nothing happened. I ranted and raved and pushed and
prodded and poked and pitifully proclaimed piously that appropriate appliances
appear aphrehensive to apparently a propos to my misgivings,
misinterpretation and malcontention. I did NOT admit defeat, but I needed
a break. I went upstairs to the bathroom and I turned my electric razor
on and of for 15 minutes because AT LEAST I CAN DO THAT! I felt much better
and I went back downstairs to cope with a curiously contemptuous cathode
ray tube (in need of a real existance!).
Eventually, I managed to get video, but no audio. This was fine by me,
until one of my favorite commercials came on and I couldn't sing along. I
was a basketcase (was?), so I sat back to examine what the real problem was.
I said to myself, "Tob (that's not my real name, I just call me that),
what is the actual problem?"
I answered myself (who do you think would? Duh!) with, "There is no Zen
within these remote controls. Zen is not controlled remotely if it is
controlled at all."
I said "Wait, is that a Zen concept, or are you confusing that with
Taoism; you've been known to do that you know."
I thought, "Darn, that's right. Which is it? I better compare the two."
So I started with Zen. "What is the sound of one remote control clapping
itself against a fifteen pound sledgehammer?" I thought.
That would have been good, but I was dealing with THREE remote controls,
not one. So I scrapped that arguement and went on to the Taoist concept
of: "Here is a remote control. I must deal with it."
The only problem was that I was already trying to deal with it and I was
failing miserably. So I took everything I was thinking about and threw it
out my cerebral window.
Time for Tobism:
I said to myself (out loud of course), "What is the *real* problem here?
Three remote controls and only one Tob. Hmm, I think we need to even out
the odds here." I put all three remotes under a pillow.
"Now there are NO remotes and ONE Tob, I should win." I thought. Good
decision. I then walked up to the entertainment center and perused the
pertainent possibilities provided so I could facilited the functions
forthwith. I figured it out. I found a button. I pushed it a few times
until that stupid LED readout said `TV'. The television sprang to life!
I congratulated myself wholeheartedly on a job well done, until I realized
I missed the show I wanted to watch; it took me that long. I said, "Oh
well." And then I made some noodles and ate them.
In my world, this would never happen. There is only one button to push
on all of my fantasy appliances, and that's the ON/OFF button. It's
either ON or OFF and no goddam thing inbetween. On or off, what ever
happened to Boolean Algebra, That's what I want to know. I can deal with
`it is or it isn't', no more fussyputting around.
As a side note, many of you are probably wondering how I managed to turn
the computer on that I am writing this from. Well, I asked Dave, and he
told me how to do it. This time I was Smart; I *wrote it down*.
Heh. I win.
(o) (o) (o) (o) (o) (o) (o) !
I was driving back from the store the long way today, and I saw a
Kool-Aid stand manned by three kids on 38th Ave. I stopped (of course!
You should always do this). I swaggered up to the kid who seemed to be
in charge and said, "Float me your finest, Publican!"
The kid said, "What?"
I repeated pedantically, "I'd like a glass please." And I gave the kid
a dime. I stood and sipped a red flavored glass of sugar water and looked
around. I noticed another similar stand across the street and two houses
down. I said, "It looks like you have some competition."
The kid replied, "No, they're just copycats. Wheezie (sp?) is always a
copycat."
I felt I needed to give this young entrepeneur some advice. I said,
"Dude (never call a kid a kid; treat them as peers because they are!), you
need two things to make it in this business: One; an advertising
campaign, and two; a logo. Set me up with another and I'll draw this up
for you."
The kid (who's name turned out to be Ted) poured me another
paper-cup-full, and I whipped out my pen and my notebook and drew the kid
a picture.
"First off: Advertising. What you do, is get a couple more pieces of
cardboard and you make a series of signs that say:
[Sign #1] THIRSTY TODAY EVEN IN THE SHADE?
[Sign #2] IT'S BEEN TOO LONG; YOU DELAYED
[Sign #3] A GLASS OF TED'S COLD KOOL-AID
[Sign #4] WORTH TEN TIMES THE PRICE YOU PAID
And then you put them in sequence up your street. Get it?"
Ted said, "Is that like rap?"
"Sort of, trust me, homeslice." I replied. I didn't want to burden
him with the concept of `Burma Shave' since it was already two generations
past his time.
I wrote it all down for him and gave him explicit directions on how to
execute the entire process. I even took his markers (Crayola wide tips)
and whipped up a logo for him. It looked vaguely like this:
/\
/ \
/TEDs\
/ \
< COLD >
\DRINKS/
\10c /
\ /
\/
I embellished it with lots of curlicues and rainbow fadeouts of course.
Ted was cutting up cardboard boxes to make the signs as I was leaving. I
told him I would stop back by in a few hours to see how he was doing. No
doubt the kid will be a kazillionaire.
The moral of this TRUE story: Always stop at little kid lemonade (or
whatever) stands. They're always going to make a profit because `Mom'
fronted the start-up expense. Tip lavishly.
%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%
I've been blithering on for far too long now, and I haven't even got to
the `Gene Loves Jezebel' story yet. Oh well. It was cool; Jay Astin
asked me "Right, so where's the other bar then?" and I pointed him across
the hall. Nothing spectacular. Same sh*t dfferent day. {Oops! Did I
say "shit"? I'm sorry. I have to take a shower now because I have to go
see Fugazi, Unrest, Ritual Device, Sideshow and three other bands tonight.
Ho hum. At least I don't have to ride in a limo...}
Outta here....
Tob
P.S. If you're wondering, read alt.fan.jen-coolest for laughs. Post if
you can in favor of me, Tob, and I still want my OWN newsgroup! Let's do it!
______________________________________________________________________________
| It's true! It's ALL true! (for explanation `finger' tob@cwis.unomaha.edu|
|____________________________________________________________________________|
Command ('i' to return to index)('space' for next letter):