Posted by Davis | Filed under Uncategorized
I’m currently in Seoul, South Korea, on the tail end of a three-week trip. Melissa and I spent two wonderful weeks in Thailand and Cambodia on a long-planned frequent flier mile cash-in bonanza, followed by a trip to South Korea for work. It’s all been fantastic, but I’m just about ready for it to be over. The only thing keeping me from wanting to go home more than I already do is the fact that I have nearly 24 hours of travel ahead of me. Actually, that’s not true – there are a few things that I’m going to have a hard time saying goodbye to.
First up, this:
Just look at that, will you? What? Did you call it a toilet? How dare you? I don’t know what to call it yet, but it’s not a toilet. How do I know? Because toilets don’t have heated seats. They don’t have bidets (with adjustable water temperature and pressure). They don’t have warm air dryers (with adjustable air temperatures and speed). Toilets don’t have control panels. Toilets don’t make you happy.
Next:
Big deal, we have GPS monitors in the US. Yes, we do. But that’s not a GPS monitor (or it is, but it’s not just that). It’s a TV. For watching TV. In the car. Seoul has terrible traffic, and somewhere along the way someone decided, “You know what would make driving in traffic much more enjoyable? TV!” I’m assuming now that the TV/traffic thing is a vicious cycle, wherein people get in accidents because they’re watching TV, which makes traffic worse, which makes watching TV while driving even more important. Question: What is the highest number of human lives would you be willing to sacrifice every year so you could watch TV in your car? Everyone is different, but if the number you thought of is below 5,000 you’re lying.
When I lived in New York I often thought of how absolutely hosed I would be if a fire or other disaster were to strike while I was in a skyscraper. Sure, you go through the motions of a civilized fire drill twice a year, and you all nod as the receptionist they’ve saddled with fire marshal duties drones on about making sure you make way for the elderly and disabled. But we all know the minute smoke starts pouring in all bets are off. Thunderdome at the office. You’ve got two minutes to get down 33 flights of stairs, and if Jerry from Accounts Receivable is slowing things down on account of his gout you’re going to do what you have to do. And that’s if you can even get to the stairwell.
One day a co-worker and I wondered aloud why they didn’t just provide some rope for everyone who sat by the window of our building. It was one of those ideas that at first seems ridiculous but on closer examination makes a great deal of sense – “Yeah, actually, why don’t they provide ropes for everyone?” Usually the answer to such questions boils down to the fact that we’re just too lazy or someone doesn’t want to spend the money. Well, the Koreans are neither lazy nor cheap.
Can you believe that? That kit contains a hammer for breaking glass, a belt, and a long spool of rope. (I assume the hammer is also there in case your rope is defective and you have to clear out some people in the stairwell?)
Oh, and one more I can’t really take a picture of: the elevators here? They let you un-press a button to rescind your command to go to a certain floor. You accidentally hit “7” when you wanted to hit “8?” No problem. Hit it again, and take it back and go straight to “8.” Tell me that wouldn’t make a difference in your life.
Really the only thing I don’t like about South Korea is this:
Yep, parking stalls that only women can use. Which isn’t actually that big of a deal, since finding a parking space isn’t really that annoying when you can watch TV while doing it.
| December 8th, 2010
Posted by Christian | Filed under Uncategorized
I’m stepping onto a flight, but when I land I’ll put up today’s guest post.
| December 3rd, 2010
Posted by Ryan | Filed under Obsessions, Travel
Meet Cute
We were introduced by a mutual friend, a buddy of mine who knew her from his days on the Mexican border. We sat down in a dirty Mexican hole in the wall in (of all places) Provo, Utah, and there she was. My buddy would go on to wait tables at the biggest Mexican place in town, but I still remember tiny Moya’s, its little bar and its warm, small tortillas. That’s where I first saw Horchata.
It started as a fleeting crush, that’s all. There was a mystery to it– milky look, but watery texture, cinnamon with a touch of citrus. It takes time to understand a combination like that. I moved on, Horchata did too. Read the rest of this entry »
| November 29th, 2010
Posted by Ryan | Filed under Uncategorized
DDDT is off this week. Everyone have a great Thanksgiving.
| November 22nd, 2010
Posted by Christian | Filed under Uncategorized
I don’t have a single thing to write about. So let’s do an experiment. I’m just going to start writing and we’ll see where this thing goes.
I’ve been staring at my computer for some time. Bored, I just checked out D3T’s (I love that nickname, btw. Sounds like we’re talking about the third Jurrassic Park movie or something. D3T: ROAAAARRRRRRRRRR!) analytics for the first time in a while. Traffic’s up lately. That’s nice. Guess what our most popular post ever is? You guessed it:
Just The Animal Facts, Ma’am
11,700 page views. The next highest post is at 1,500. This makes me happy. I love animal facts more than almost anything else in the world. And thanks to Davis, if you google Dumb Animal Facts, our little hometown blog shows up at the top of page 2 (sometimes even at the bottom of page 1). It makes me happy that so many people are typing in that search term, deriving joy out of the thing that has brought me such joy all these years.
I feel like Brad Pitt has disappeared this last year. What’s going on with him? I realized today that he’s 46. What! I swear he was 30 a couple years ago. I wish he could stay young forever. Going to be so interesting watching him grow into an older man. I’m excited to see him as a grandfather. Whoa, that just blew my mind; as I was typing that grandfather thing I just pictured an adult Shiloh with a little boy of her own, and grandfather Brad taking him to do fun things. I think he’ll be very active even into his late 70s. Time will tell.
Reba bit my finger very hard tonight because I was trying to tickle her. Her bite broke skin. She hates, hates, hates being tickled and will do anything, literally ANYTHING to get me to stop. Hit, kick, gouge, scream. If she had a knife nearby she honestly would stab me. I’m not exaggerating. She would stab me in a heartbeat. It’s crazy. She’ll do anything to let me know she means business. But she’s laughing the whole time, so I can’t take her protests seriously.
Ok, Reba just came upstairs and apologized for biting me and breaking skin because I’ve been pouting about it. She says that it makes her feel crazy to be tickled. “Tickle torture is literally torture for me.” It really does make her crazy, and even though I know I will end up injured, I do it because I don’t believe my memory of how crazy she gets, so every few weeks I want to test it out. Same result. She really becomes insane. We need Tiebreakers.
Yesterday Reba found tubby little Amelia sitting naked and closely studying something in her hand. The object she was studying was a perfectly spherical turd she had retrieved from her self-removed diaper. This is a girl who loves yummy chocolates and I’m sure she was a few seconds away from taking a big tasty chomp out of this chocolaty morsel she had the great fortune to find in her diaper.
I’m going to bed.
| November 19th, 2010
Posted by Davis | Filed under Uncategorized
I am 33 years old, and I just bought my first and second car. Having a car is awesome. Read the rest of this entry »
| November 17th, 2010
Posted by Ryan | Filed under college, Growing Up, Macy, Stories
We’ve been having a little problem with Lucy, our boisterous six year old middle child. She has stumbled on the joy of scaring people. Peaceful Sunday afternoons and late weeknights after bedtime are often punctuated by the sounds of a six year old roar, followed by a very girly squeal from seven year old Rex, or an angry jump from Macy. That has led to some intense conversations with Lucy, who has been exhorted in very frank terms to stop with the scaring already. But Lucy doesn’t seem to care. Where Rex is classically stubborn, and Molly is mischievously resistant to parental restrictions, Lucy just sort of flits away from instruction without it entering her head. Her disobedience on this point is not so much a matter of defiance as just the feeling that you’ve never had the opportunity to tell her to stop at a moment when she could actually hear you. So she spends a large part of her time hiding in Rex’s closet, or sneaking in perfect silence up to our bed in the mornings (you can always tell a Milford girl). And also sitting innocently through lectures that she has decided she can’t hear over the din of fairy music playing in her head. Read the rest of this entry »
| November 15th, 2010
