All posts by X Teri

Saturday Morning Randomness

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Fruit chews. I can imagine some of the snarled sneers of distaste. I’ve heard many people complain about this candy, saying it tastes like ear wax yanked from unsuspecting people’s ears and lightly flavored with fruits from another planet. But I love it. It’s as good as salted black licorice, Tab soda or pico de gallo with extra cilantro.

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couple of individuals

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No offense toward any specific eatery, but what a mess some of these places have named themselves. I can’t tell if they are places to eat, where to buy hand grenades, or food poisoning control centers. (I think I might name a diner “McDonald’s Canteen Tearoom” to appeal to both foodies and regular folks.)

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 pretentios
Pretentio’s is the proposed name of my new fake restaurant, where we slap patrons as they enter just for daring to try to eat at our place.
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It’s interesting to watch a local town get clobbered for logo work. It’s almost a crime for someone as satirical as me to criticize the needless complexity and disconnectedness of graphic work by others. If you can’t easily draw it without confusion, it is not a great logo. Anyone can criticize, of course, which is why I made one which played by all the rules, at great expense to my last iota of sanity. PS: ALL slogans grow stale and pointless.
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nathan lane

The Abilene Paradox Is Alive And Well

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Abilene Paradox Wikipedia

An explanatory video of the Abilene Paradox

It seems like I’ve seen this in action more in the last few months than I had in the last few years combined. Perhaps it’s because I’m getting older or perhaps I’m just over-thinking things.

I listen to people interact at work or when discussing their personal lives and see the Abilene Paradox in their words and actions. Quite often I am the voice of dissent or ‘pull,’ trying to get others to stop and honestly walk themselves through decisions.

It’s fascinating.

At first glance, many people feel it is just a clever turn of phrase, not realizing that it accurately expresses a common problem we tend to experience.

 

When I posted the picture below a couple of years ago, people didn’t take a second to understand it and thought I was being clever or had just made it up.

Everyone Has A Choice

 

 

 

Sweating With Dolphins?

“I didn’t go swimming with the dolphins but I did cut my foot on a rusted tuna can.” -X

 

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The above picture is one I made to start my wife’s day off. The head of the baby doll is my sister-in-law. The man in the picture is Tig from “Sons of Anarchy.” If I were to tie him up in my sister-in-law’s extra room, he would go stark raving mad from horror.

NeitherWorld

From a series of ideas and stories I’ve started calling “NeitherWorld.”

 

The next picture is from a night of bad karaoke…

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Personal Items Transformed…

I had a custom fabric shower curtain made for Dawn. It didn’t cost as much as you would imagine, but it totally changes the bathroom. The vibrancy of colors reminds me of Willy Wonka, or what might occur if you let a crazy person decorate your house. One picture is of me holding it up in the living room, the other is after I put it up in the bathroom and the last image is the original image I used to make the shower curtain. There are multiple pictures of Dawn, her sister Darla and me. I think I surprised Dawn with this one. (See what happens when I don’t get to see a doctor? )

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The shower curtain was made by CafePress, who I normally don’t use. The fabric, colors, and quality seem to be fantastic. While most people thought it was creative and really interesting, a few played the ‘creepy’ card, which is a good sign. Playing it safe with personal items is a good way to be boring.

In a weird coincidence, another one of Dawn’s surprises arrived just minutes before the custom shower curtain: a 24″ metal flat sculpture I had someone make for Dawn. I just installed it in the archway coming out of the living room. Dawn likes monkeys and since I couldn’t seem to find exactly what I wanted to get her as a surprise, I had a craftsman make it for me. The pictures don’t do it justice.

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The Beginning of A Story…

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The beginning of a story…

 

On the outskirts of the decaying Arkansas farm town of Brinkley, a solitary man walked purposefully along the edge of a frozen January field. He had walked a hundred miles, powered by the slow and consuming burn of revenge. Each step punctuated his commitment to teaching the ghosts of his past the error of the word ‘no.’

There would be no deviation this time. The limiting exoskeleton of his youth would no longer detain him and the harsh, silencing rebuke of the culpable police and impeached family held no further weight upon his shoulders. He had jettisoned his entire life in order to quiet the insistent voices that greeted him each morning as he rolled out of bed.

He had packed one knife, a weather-worn pistol and two bullets, weapons sufficient to pay it forward to the world, one rid of the cancerous anger that had allowed his brother’s murder to transpire without consequences to those involved.

Absent from this small corner of the world for fourteen years, he had forgotten the beauty of the encroaching winter sunset, the smells of distant wood smoke and the slowing of time in the rural community. As his boots found foothold on the broken stumps of last year’s crops, he felt as if he were reversing course in time, feeling the intervening years lost to adulthood slip away, leaving a white-hot ember of angry remembrance.

‘No,’ he whispered to himself without realizing he had done so aloud.

As he cleared the southern perimeter of the expansive field, he crossed under sagging power lines between leaning utility poles. The birds sitting impassively on the wires squawked with hellish surprise as he looked up at the reddish skyline and screamed, ‘No!’ This time, he felt his anger flow out of him as his scream echoed along the tree line. His hand subconsciously touched the outline of the knife tucked into the waistline along the back of his jeans.

As the birds above him flew away, his pace increased, taking him toward the inevitability of someone’s death. Whether it would be his or those who had unwittingly pushed him out of his hometown fourteen years ago would be up to fate. 1991 seemed more real to him than any time since his youthful innocence had been stolen from him. Like each of us, he walked forward, uncertain and determined.

Mixed Feelings About Personal Branding

“Be careful what you put up on social media….Protect your personal brand.” [Russell Tooley, Tyson]

I have mixed feelings about this type of protective stance. Not because it is bad advice – quite the contrary. Overall, it is probably what you should do. Mostly, I hate to see it because I’ve never once checked behind someone who is preaching it that didn’t have some crazy stuff already out there. Business leaders, lawyers, teachers, doctors, ditch-diggers, poultry workers – everyone in any occupation has been guilty of doing the opposite. Which is also okay. I’m not the hypocrisy police, especially given my life choices.

Because I observe how people behave, once I note that someone is closely guarding their image, I default to the assumption that the person is deflecting attention, usually away from a less than stellar past. At a minimum, their content is stale, aloof, and smacks of falsity. I assume they are hiding their character. If not their character, at least some missteps in life.

There’s a huge difference between showing yourself upside down on a keg when you were at a college party and concealing your true interests, beliefs and background. In many ways, I trust someone more implicitly who in fact shares the drinking picture. That person trusts our humanity and knows that we’ve all also done some stupid things. They don’t define us and shirking from them in horror is what perpetuates the myth of ‘normal.’

If I were an employer and noted that all of a person’s content was ‘safe’ or curated, all I would assume is that they had cleaned it prior to coming forward for a job. If you’ve said nothing controversial or done nothing stupid, I don’t want you on my team. I want flesh and bones, smart and creative, and while not dwelling on past indiscretions, not afraid to reveal them to me. My view might go against conventional wisdom, of course but I reach this conclusion repeatedly as I go around social media, reading, watching, and listening.

‘Protecting your personal brand,’ in my opinion, is usually another means to conceal your true self for an illusory chance to control how people perceive you. It doesn’t work, we know who you are. And if does work, it works against you in regards to people like me.

For most people, it is safer to play it safe and curate everything you share with social media. Just know that people like me play with a different set of rules and if you’re in the game assuming everyone honors the same rules, you have to be prepared.

 

 

 

 

Humility and DWIs

 

I’ve commented many times over the years about DWI offenses. I’ve told a million people that as long as no one is injured, we shouldn’t ruin people’s lives because they had a foolish moment. The first offense is a wake-up call, a warning toward learning from one’s mistakes and working to avoid repeating the misstep. The embarrassment of being caught combined with the economic impact usually deters most people from stepping into the same hole. We should require bumper stickers on their vehicles, breathalyzers to double-check them and ensure that they undergo long counseling and community service.

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(Except for my parents: they reached double digits in the number of times they were pulled over and/or arrested for drunk driving. They never learned their lesson during their entire adulthood, even after someone dying, children in the cars in question.)

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What does continue to bug me is when someone gets a D.W.I. and lashes out in anger at the attention or second-guessing they receive. If I had to put a word to what I expect, I would call it “humility.” If you messed up so badly you were rewarded with a DWI, stop getting angry at everyone else about it. Deal with the consequences directly, honestly, and move on as quickly as your circumstances will allow.

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Don’t try to silence criticism or bully your way out of dealing with honest commentary or even gossip. You messed up and were caught, not the people whose jaws are wagging. If you lose your job as a result, your license, or have to display a sticker on your vehicle indicating you were guilty of driving under the influence, don’t make it worse by being angry at the world. That’s the recipe for repetition. Your picture is going to be in the paper and everyone is going to be whispering about it. Don’t kid yourself: literally everyone you know is going to be talking about it.

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I’ve said it before in different ways: If you do something as ignorant as getting a DWI, trust me, EVERYONE knows about and those whispers you suspect are about you are indeed about what you have done. Don’t fight it. It only gets worse.

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Your friends will download your booking photo and forward it to one another. Your picture is going to be on the internet, probably forever. You will be second-guessed for a long time, until the memory of what you did fades enough for people to see that you have learned from your mistake.
(If I ever get a DWI, I’m going to post it on social media, send emails, and makes some calls. I’d rather everyone hear it from me. It’s almost impossible to avoid the stigma of people finding out your secret.)

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If you get a DWI and are not in jail, spend that time being glad that society lets you walk around and try to resume a normal life. Don’t focus on the idea that ‘everyone knows,’ because not only does everyone know about it, but they can’t help but to discuss it.

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Don’t lash out at people because you screwed up. Be humble.

PS: Remember that I also caution many who have never been charged with DWI. Many of you, if you are being honest, know that you have driven under the influence and only by luck or circumstance did you avoid being labelled as a drunk driver. Or have connections to help you avoid paying the consequences of driving under the influence.

Polychromatic Thoughts

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A list to ponder, ridicule or consider…

This picture is how my mind feels most of the time, even in an apparently monochromatic world. It is our minds that enliven us, transport us to places where ideas take shape and enable our imagination to sustain us, even as the monotony of life’s maintenance pervades our waking minutes. While we wade in mundane human affairs, if we are lucky, our minds are free.
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Sometimes, I wish Facebook would bring back really cool cigarette ads. That way, if your phone or computer ever caught fire, you’d have a great coincidental story to tell everyone.
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A Modern Parable:
“I don’t have time for such nonsense,” he told me, sneering.
I looked at his car that cost a fortune and imagined his palatial residence, filled to the rafters with needless clutter. I knew he worked and worked and worked – probably at a job he despised.
“I would say you have time for nothing except nonsense,” I replied, gleefully whistling as I walked away.
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I’m so lazy that I don’t even want to be a stand-up comedian, especially since there are chairs literally freaking everywhere you look.
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The only way you can probably say that you’ve changed someone’s mind is if you are literally the first neurosurgeon to do a human brain transplant. In almost all other instances, you’ve silenced the opposition or convinced them you are a buffoon.
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When someone tells you to be MORE responsible, what he or she is really saying is that you aren’t responsible at all. At least, that’s the way it can be taken most of the time.
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Crayon Reading: the feeling and tone I experience reading subjective opinion written as fact, probably better served to have been noted in polychromatic crayons.
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Quote from Kyle: “Fox is the TMZ of the news.”
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Just to amuse myself, I’m going to go to city hall and apply for a permit to start a snake and spider farm, just to see how people react. Free publicity, at any rate.
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Is it just me or does it seem like the people who believe the craziest religious stuff also tend to be the ones making the most fun of other religions?
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Why does it need to be ‘super’-glue? Why not just ‘good’-glue?
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I’d like to use my executive powers to confer the ability of coherent speech to those who watch a lot of biased news programming. Proposed name for said rule: “The Enunciation Proclamation.” Because if you watch closely, it seems like the dumbest person is invariably the one angrily shouting on television. And at the dinner table.
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“Happy Monday,” the apparent jerk said to me.
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A new app for cellphones of middle-aged white guys: Vexed-To-Speech. It automatically converts the angry nonsense you want to post to social media, especially if it involves illegal immigration, guns, religion, or the right to collect your own belly lint.
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For hairstylists: If I owned a salon, I would advertise a two-for-one haircut session as “The Siamese Twin Special.” But I wouldn’t make them sit in the chair at the same time, though.
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While not always accurate, many of the posters saying “I’m leaving social media until after the election or {insert current controversial social issue here}” are the ones with rigid, unyielding critical viewpoints, as exposure to anything which contradicts what they think they know is filtered as threatening. (Politics, religion, social issues, and toilet paper over-versus-under…) It would be easier to learn to use the tools available to inhibit unwanted exposure to opposing ideas but it is more validating to threaten to leave the forum entirely.
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If you find yourself really upset about the economy, the election, or those lost 15 minutes of memory while you had a blackout on a dark, country road where a mysterious bright light shone on you, go find a cat or dog and pet it. Things will improve dramatically. If not for you, it will for the cat or dog.
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Working theory that I will not explain: if you buy a lot of eggs for personal consumption, you also liked the tv show “The X-Files.” For the same reasons.
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Militias = Ham Sandwiches

The first portion is supposed to be funny, in light of the recent mess with the Oregon militia.

I’m going to start my own militia. We are not going to stockpile weapons or take turns butchering interpretations of our nation’s laws. Our primary focus will be to eradicate that most vile of social ills: the ham sandwich.

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The following is what I posted around the time of the Liberty Bowl, a collegiate football competition…

I heard a rumor that the primary geographical public university for this area competed in a NCAA-sanctioned bowl of little import today, against a team that could best be described as “the puny kid next door.” We evidently utilized our student athletes, all volunteers, who used their collective brainpower to transport the pig-skin prolate spheroid across an imaginary line with greater frequency than the opponents. As a result, the $11,000 per day coach will now receive an additional financial reward, of which I’m proud, as priorities must be honored in the appropriate order.

I pray this will eliminate the perennial and infinite post-mortem analysis of this season, followed by the cliché of “we’ll do better next year.” And don’t forget the sports analogies involving grit, fortitude and other vaguely heroic adjectives interspersed with arcane statistics that are as interesting as listening to me yodel an opera in Chinese.

Next year is always crowded, populated by the ongoing fantasies of future glory.

Wake me up when we play ASU. Thanks

(Is this too much? )

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