Skip to main content

Oh, I see.

So my car broke down. Again. A couple of nights ago. I was driving home after class when, all of a sudden, everything started to not work. Ah, I thought. Damn. I pulled off into a bank parking lot and tried to start it up again. After a few minutes without success I walked over to the side of the road and tried to flag down passing drivers. Nobody responded to my frantic arm waving so I stepped it up.

I took my shirt off and started swinging it around in the air. This, I think, actually discouraged people from stopping even more. After a while I gave up and started dancing in the street again. This time somebody stopped. Yes! I thought. The driver stopped in the middle of the road and stepped out. He was talking into something. Then he flipped his lights on. Because he was a cop.

I put my shirt on and walked slowly to his car. "What are you doing." He said. It was not really a question. "Um." I replied. "My car broke down, can you give me a jump?" He looked at me for a second. It was a little bit awkward. "Uh, yeah sure." He said, getting back into his car. I walked over to my car and he pulled up. Then another police car pulled up. "No it's okay," the first officer said. "He just needs his car jumped." "What the fuck!" The other one said, laughing as he drove away. We connected the jumper cables. "I tried to call people, but nobody answered." I explained. "Yes, well I guess your shirtless dancing in the street got my attention." He said. I think he was disappointed that I was sober.

I started my car and he pulled out before I even closed my door. Then my car died again. I ran back out to the street but he was long gone. So I called my friend to help me out. We spent a couple of hours trying to get the car back to my house where it died again in the driveway. It was pretty okay, but I was very tired. And sleepy. Then I went to work, and it was awful.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm a geologist, not an alcoholic.

I thought I had seen people drink before. Hell, I thought that I had drank before. But, clearly, I thought wrong on both of those counts. I cannot, for the life of me, think of a reason to justify all of the drinking that transpired down there last week. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just was. Field work just makes a man thirsty. Taking this class was easily one of the best things I've ever done. We worked hard every day out in the field. Wake up at 7, leave the beach house by 8, hit the water by 9. My first three field days were in service on the R/V Acadiana , a 58 foot vessel that towed the CHIRP fish , the air gun, and the streamer to measure all the seismic data--looking at the subsurface of the seafloor we drove over. My second ship was the R/V Itasca using the multibeam , sidescan , and grab sampler --getting seafloor surface bathymetry. They were long, exhausting days and we returned to the docks around 6 or 7 every evening. And then, drinking. So much ...

Finger pointing good.

When I was on the boat doing science at Galveston, I saw a lot of dolphins. It was a significant experience for me because I have never actually seen a wild dolphin in real life before. It was sort of a dream come true. And in the middle of the shipping channel, no less. They really are amazing animals. It really kills me to realize I'll probably never see dolphins in Galveston again because of what happened to the Gulf. What is happening to the Gulf. It really is a tragedy. On a much lighter note, I started this Insanity workout program and it was so intense that I threw up before I finished the first workout. That is a good sign, I think. It is certainly an incentive to complete the entire thing. Anything that makes you feel that bad so quickly must be good for you.

Surgery and satisfaction.

My brother is wrapping up high school band camp. It's kind of funny, because suddenly we have something we can both relate to. Sort of. Not really in a loving, brotherly way. It's more like a begrudging transmission and reception of information. You take what you can get, I guess. After a few days of band camp, I discovered that he had been leaving his instrument in the band hall without a lock. "Nobody steals stuff out of the band hall." He told me. I related some appropriate anecdotes and let him borrow my own lock until he could get one for himself. "I'm going to need that back," I told him. "So you'll need to get your own lock." A couple of weeks later, I reminded him of the terms of our deal. The next day he returned my lock and revealed that he had left his saxophone unlocked. And apparently, for reasons beyond my comprehension, this is my fault.