2004: A Threshold Retrospective

2004.
On the surface, it doesn’t seem like an especially significant year.
Not like, say, a 1999, or a 2000, or a 2001 with its “Space Odyssey.”
Hell, it’s not even a palindrome like 2002.
That’s only on the surface, though. Sure, 2004 doesn’t have the kind of obvious, flashy significance of some other years, but if you examine it more closely you’ll see that…umm...
Okay, 2004 sucked out loud.
The only thing it had going for it was that we had the opportunity, which we didn’t take, to get Bush out of office.
Beyond that, 2004 had nothing to offer, and nothing is exactly what it gave us.
Still, for the next couple of days 2004 is the only year we’ve got, and as we find ourselves nearing the end of it, it seems fitting that we take a look back on the year that was.
So join me now for the first-ever Threshold Year In Review, in which we will recap some of the significant events of 2004. We’ll be looking at events specific to my life as well as events that have actual significance.
Since we’re on, or at least very near the subject, let’s talk about the election. For reasons that are utterly inexplicable to me, and despite the best efforts of professional rabble-rouser and unkempt fat guy Michael Moore, George W. swept the election. Apparently it doesn’t matter if you’re a retarded Right-Wing nut-job who failed to live up to the extremely limited requirements of the cushy position that your daddy got you to keep you out of the war as long as you’ve got some amount of personality.
Personality. The one area in which John Kerry just couldn’t compete, whether it be with George W. Bush, or with dryer lint.
Still, it wasn’t the blandness of his opponent that helped Curious George make his way to victory, it was actually an upswell of religious conservativism that was brought on in part by the revelation on national television that women actually have nipples.
Everyone knows that it’s a perfectly wholesome family activity to watch large men violently slam into each other for our amusement, and that shouldn’t be disrupted by a brief glimpse of a nipple. There’s no room in football for nipples.
Apparently at some point after they are no longer of breast-feeding age seeing a nipple is the single most damaging thing that can happen to a child, though it is evidently acceptable for them to actually have nipples themselves. Presumably, though, they are to be discouraged from spending any more time looking at their own nipples than they absolutely have to.
To ensure that they never see nipples on TV again, CBS was fined a ridiculous amount of money, and Fox was fined even more, though in that case the naughty bits were not actually visible, as they had been pixilated prior to broadcast.
The puritanical backlash resulting from the infamous “wardrobe malfunction” has been pretty widespread:

• Howard Stern was pulled off the air in many major markets and forced to flee to satellite radio.
• In April, Victoria’s Secret pulled its fashion show from the TV schedule.
• Various “live” awards shows were broadcast with a seven-second delay. The ads for the 2004 Billboard Music Awards referred to the show as "the awards show where anything can happen," but clearly the unspoken follow-up statement was "but it better not."
• Several ABC stations refused to air "Saving Private Ryan" unedited on Veteran's Day, for fear of an angry response from viewers and resultant hefty fines from the FCC.
• The TV show “Blind Date” began blurring out women’s chests if they weren’t wearing bras underneath their shirts, and even goes so far as to blur out any amount of cleavage that may be showing.
• The NFL got in hot water once again due to a promo for ABC's "Desperate Housewives" during "Monday Night Football" which featured no nipples whatsoever, but which was "suggestive," and featured a shot of actress Nicolette Sheridan's bare back. Heavens, we even got to see her bare ankles in that ad!

If this trend continues, I see the burqa as the must-have (literally) women's fashion accessory for 2005.
The other major event that helped the religious conservative movement gain momentum was the success of Mel Gibson’s torture porn/love letter to the SS, “The Passion of The Christ,” in which we learned that – Who knew? – crucifixion is really, really nasty.
Apparently this Jesus guy was brutally tortured and killed by the Jews…in much the same fashion that thousands of Jews were later tortured and killed on his behalf throughout the course of the Spanish Inquisition.
In any case, gory scenes of torture and death on the big screen really seemed to help people get back in touch with their religious beliefs, renewing their faith in a loving and kind Messiah who espoused a philosophy of charity, mercy, forgiveness, and compassion. Yep, nothing like a good old-fashiond scourging to fill you will feelings of mercy and love.
This spiritual renewal helped them better appreciate Christ's gentle spirit and become better prepared and more determined than ever to destroy their enemies.
And they were soon to discover that their enemies were not limited to women’s nipples, but also included men who like to have sex…with each other!
Yes, we’re talking about homosexuality, which, like eating shellfish, God regards as an abomination.
It’s bad enough that there are gay people in the world at all (well, apart from the hilarious mincing stereotypes we can all laugh at on TV and in the movies, or, you know, the hot chicks we can watch making out with each other, though really all guys know that all those chicks need is some deep dicking to set them straight), but some of them actually have the audacity to want to get married! Well, we’ll show them! They might be able to show us how to dress, but we’ll be damned if we’ll let them take away the sanctity of marriage from us! Those queers better listen up; broken homes, extramarital affairs, domestic abuse, and the sheer agonizing monotony of married lives are solely the province of God-fearing straight people!
So all of these factors came together to help to create a wave of conservative morality, which, like the tsunami their loving and merciful God recently used to wipe out more than 100,000 people, washed over this country and buoyed George W. Bush to victory.
Of course, for those people not caught up in this wave, there was the issue of the War on Terror, which, to date, has yielded such tangible results as finding weapons of mass. Wait, never mind that one. But even so, we did...umm…well…there was that guy, you know, the one who wasn’t really doing anything. The one from that war. No, not the guy who was actually responsible for attacks on America. The other guy. The bad guy from those “Hot Shots” movies.
Okay, so the actual results aren’t what are important here.
The fact of the matter is that, apparently because a significant portion of the population is retarded and can therefore identify with him, the American people believe that George W. Bush is the best man for the job of protecting our way of life from the people (Many of whom may actually have nipples!) who are out to destroy it.
They believe this even as they choose to ignore the fact that the largest major terror attack on this country occurred on his watch.
But that's irrelevant. George W. is clearly the man for the job. After all, we’d much rather have a Commander-in-Chief who served in the Air National Guard on a base in Texas than a man who actually engaged in combat, because our way of life is just that important to us.
For example, we wouldn’t want to lose our right to free assembly…umm, you know, at least in “Free Speech” Zones”
And we definitely wouldn’t want to live in a theocratic society that places “moral” considerations based on a system of beliefs conceived of thousands of years ago, and which couldn't have less to do with the actual issues of daily life in a world the authors could never have conceived of if it were an owner's manual for a 1956 Studebaker, over providing accurate information that is vital to the well-being of its citizens in areas such as sex and HIV education. Nor would we want to live in a society that obsessively concerns itself with the potentially “impure” thoughts of its citizenry to the extent that there are tremendous consequences if someone so much as catches a glimpse of the unwholesome female parts or that takes actions to ensure that “indecent” and “subversive” viewpoints cannot be expressed over the public airwaves. We also wouldn’t want to live in a society that deprives a significant portion of its population of their right to have an officially-recognized relationship with all of the rights and privileges thereto, or that engages in unprovoked attacks that lead to thousands of civilian casualties, or that perpetuates the unfounded hatred of the Jewish people and….
Umm…you know what? Why don’t we just wrap things up here and move on to the more Jon-specific events of 2004?

Threshold Year In Review Pt. 2: This Time It’s Personal

Ah, 2004. I remember it just like it was…umm, well, just like it was right now.
The year definitely had some moments of moment for me.
Some of them were entertaining, such as this, which I feel may have my best off the cuff smart-ass comment of the year:

Kathleen: I’m not really a “diva,” am I?
Me: No; you’re just a bitch.

Some were irritating, such as when my clutch blew up on me.
Most moments, though, simply were.
Still, there were some significant events. For example, I wrote a novel. Granted, it’s not a great novel, but hey, how many novels have any of you written?
I also submitted a short story for publication. Sure, I never heard anything back from the publisher, but considering that it’s been nine years since I submitted anything, I’d say it’s significant.
And on other creative fronts, I think that in 2004 I’ve created some of my best artistic work ever, with some of the best examples being here, here and here.
And also here.
Possibly the most significant event of 2004 in my life, though, was the fact that after nearly eighteen years I quit smoking.
Smoking being my last remaining major vice, this act added to the overall asceticism of my life and made me that much more monkish. That’s probably why I resisted the idea of quitting for so long. After all, I don’t drink anymore, I’ve given up caffeine, I’m not much of a gambler, and as for sex…well, we all know that is not a major issue in my life as far as vices go.
So smoking was really all that I had left.
Still, I’m glad I did it, and I do hope that I’ll never smoke again, but most days I do find myself wanting to light up, and, to be honest, though I did start depositing the amount I used to spend on cigarettes every month into my savings account, I’m not really seeing the financial benefits, and given my lack of any real vices, I'm hard-pressed to figure out where the hell the money is going.
The most obvious impact giving up smoking had on my life, though, was creating my interest in personal fitness. After I quit smoking, bucking the usual trend, I actually lost twenty pounds.
Since that time I’ve added more intensive exercise to my initial regime of endless walking and, as a result, have actually gained thirty pounds, though I’ve retained my much smaller waistline, indicating that most of it is muscle.
At roughly the same time that I quit smoking I began to experiment in the kitchen, learning that not only do I seem to have something in the way of culinary talents, I actually enjoy cooking.
2004 also saw the rather ambiguous conclusion to my most recent attempt at forming a romantic relationship, bringing me that much closer to just giving up on the idea once and for all.
Still, there are certain…imperatives that keep me from giving up all hope, despite the lack of prospects.
In 2004 my hatred of TV executives reached a fever pitch due to the unending assault of reality shows, the untimely and unfair death of “Wonderfalls,” and the news that my beloved “Dead Like Me” would not be returning for a third season.
After more than eight years, 2004 witnessed the restoration, and completion, of my “Sandman” collection, and also brought me Neil Gaiman’s “Neverwhere” on DVD.
Of course, we can’t forget the single most significant event of 2004 in my life, as well as the lives of all of you: the birth of Threshold!
As a forum in which I can express myself, Threshold has allowed me to reach out to Mandy, daughter of Pam, Logistics Manager; it has allowed me to keep you informed on subjects as vital and significant as The Venture Bros., Frank Miller’s Sin City, and the fact that my life isn’t as wretched as I make it seem; and finally, Threshold gave me the power to put the final nail in the coffin of a semi-resurrected, on-again-off-again friendship that died once and for all after I wrote about my dislike of pets.
In any case, without Threshold, where else would you get to read about the exciting events of my life, see my stunning works of art, or expose yourself to my irreverent (and usually irrelevant) spin on modern life? I’ll tell you; nowhere, that’s where. And what kind of life would that be? No kind of life at all.
After all, now that Threshold has become an indispensable part of your life, how could you ever get by without it?
Without Threshold, you would wither and die.
So because I control Threshold, I have the power of life and death over you all! You are all at my mercy! Bwahahahahahahahaha!
But don’t worry; I am a kind and benevolent dictator, and I pledge to keep you all hale and hearty with frequent updates throughout the year to come.
In closing, I’ll bring out that hoary old time-honored tradition of the “Best/Worst” list. Enjoy!

Best Second Season of a Series on Showtime:
Dead Like Me

Worst Second Season of a Series on Showtime:
Dead Like Me (Because it’s the last fucking season! Damn you Showtime! Damn you to hell!)

Best Movies That I Actually Went To the Theater to See:
Spider-Man 2
Hellboy
The Incredibles
Honorable Mention (Simply because I actually went to see it): Van Helsing

Worst Movie That I Actually Went To the Theater to See:
Van Helsing (Just because it didn’t kick nearly as much ass as the other three movies)

Best Personal Musical Discoveries of 2004:
Liz Phair (Just in general)
“Nocturama” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Worst Personal Musical Discoveries of 2004:
That rap song in that goddamn Boost Mobile commercial!
The music in all the damn “Checkers” commercials

Best New Expression of 2004:
Fucktard (Props to Brian for introducing me to the term)

Worst New Expression of 2004
President Bush was elected to a second term (Though “That fucktard President Bush was elected to a second term” creates kind of an interesting synergy)

And, on a more serious note, the best moment of 2004, for me, was probably finding out that my niece Jourdan got accepted into a Pre-Med program at Michigan Tech. The worst moment was finding out that her father, my friend and brother-in-law Dean, was being called up for active duty and being sent to Iraq for a two-year tour of duty as part of the bogus “War on Terror,” and will therefore miss her high school graduation and the first year and a half of her time in college.
Of course the absolute worst event of 2004 is the disaster on the other side of the world. Perhaps I’ve made light of it here, in particular to get in a gibe at the followers of organized religion, but this really is a monumental tragedy the likes of which I’ve never seen in my life and my deepest and most sincere sympathies go out to all of the victims of this disaster as well as to their families and friends.
In any case, that concludes the first ever Threshold Year In Review.
Happy New Year, Threshold readers! See you in 2005.

By George

This is a picture of actress Ellen Muth, who plays Georgia "George" Lass on "Dead Like Me."
You just have to love that sullen expression that is so typical of George.
The image on her shirt, an even more stylized than usual version of my signature, is actually the signature I use in my Britney pictures in which the tattoo on her hip is visible.
Britney has some sort of Japanese character, but I like to replace it with my signature. In this case, rather than use the actual image that was on George's shirt, I thought that it would be a good spot for my signature.
In any case, inspired by the fact that I'll probably be seeing less of George (and the rest of the DLM cast), I decided to draw a picture of her to share with everyone here at Threshold.

New! A Way to Send Me Web Cam Links and Information About "Natural Male Enhancement"

I've created a new Google Mail account specifically to allow Threshold readers (at least those who don't already know me personally) to contact me.
If you click on "About Me" you will now see a link for "Email" under "Contact."
For those too lazy to engage in that many clicks you can simply send any messages/hate mail/death threats straight to heimdal472@gmail.com
I'll probably start using this as my default address for any forms I have to fill out that I suspect will result in me receiving spam, so I probably won't check it very often, but then I'm sure that very few people will have any reason to send me mail anyway...
Also, an update to the last post: there may not be justice after all. Looks like McFarlane himself isn't filing for bankruptcy, just one of his companies. Further, it looks as though it's basically just a dodge to avoid paying a lawsuit settlement.
If you're wondering who McFarlane is, and what I have against him, the preceding sentence ought to go a long way towards telling you what you need to know about his character (or lack thereof).
Beyond that, he's a comic book artist who, undeservedly, has enjoyed a tremendous amount of success. That's the basis for my animosity, and suffice to say he's done a lot of things to demonstrate the fact that he's an underhanded jerk (such as trying to screw over Neil Gaiman, who also won a judgment against him).

Is There Really Such a Thing as Justice?

There may very well be:

Todd McFarlane Files for Chapter 11

I try not to take pleasure in the misfortune of others, so I can't really....ah, screw it, McFarlane is broke! Hee! I have a new "Happy Thought!"

Anything for a Laugh, Close Encounters of NO Kind, Morning-After Awkwardness, and a Hint of Things to Come

I’m sure the eloquence of the previous post goes a long way towards explaining how it is that I’ve been single for nearly a decade now (as does the mug shot in the upper right corner).
Mostly I was just impressed by how hot the chick on the Wal-Mart flier was, so I thought I’d find a way to incorporate her into Threshold in some fashion.
Then I thought it would be funny to go the “Beavis and Butt-Head” route with the letter.
I’m not actually desperate enough to resort to trying to use the Internet to get in touch with some random chick I spotted in a Wal-Mart ad.
Okay, maybe I am that desperate, but I’m not foolish enough to think that it would pay off in any fashion beyond getting a laugh from my small yet faithful core of Threshold readers.
Besides, for all I know “Mandy” isn’t even legal.
Sure, she looks mature, but looks can be deceiving.
I mean, come on, anyone can make a mistake, right?
Right?
Come on, fellas, back me up here. We all make mistakes once in a while.
Don’t we?
I mean, how was I supposed to know that girl was only fourteen? I swear, I thought she was twenty-six! She sure didn’t act like she was fourteen, if you know what I mean. And just because I met her outside the middle school, that doesn’t prove anything…
Okay, okay; you can stop being appalled; I’m just joking. Except for the two months between my eighteenth birthday and my then-girlfriend’s, I’ve never had any encounters of the jailbait kind.
And as we all know, it’s been a long, long, looooooong time since I’ve had an encounter of any kind anyway.
I did actually have something of an encounter with a redhead named Mandy (though actually I think it was “Mandi”) a long time ago.
It didn’t lead to anything, obviously, but it was memorable despite the copious amount of alcohol involved.
Mandi had the potential to be pretty, but that potential was marred by the big, splotchy freckles she was covered with.
They had the appearance of liver spots, and gave her skin a leathery quality that made her look much older than she actually was.
Still, while my beer goggles were never as strong a prescription as some (*cough*Eric!*cough*), they did blur my vision a time or two.
Besides, overall she was a pretty cool person, and it’s not like she was completely unattractive.
And how could I not like someone who once got in a fight with a stripper over me? Well, not just me, as there were other issues involved, but I was at least a component in the battle.
I might have been willing to pursue something with Mandi, but our drunken encounters primarily resulted only in awkward moments in the cold, sober light of day, and I never managed to find a way to broach the subject before I got shit-canned from my job (she was a receptionist where I worked). I had a vague idea of where she lived, but I never sought her out, and eventually I left Minnesota behind forever (or at least for the past four years, though it’s probably safe to say that I’m unlikely to ever return).
Of course, in those days I was in no shape to be in a relationship with anyone that wasn’t a bottle of vodka anyway.
You know, I say that I was in no shape to be in a relationship, and other people have said similar things to me over the years, and yet it’s not as if good mental health is some sort of prerequisite for having a relationship.
I mean, if we all had to wait until our lives and mental states were stable most of us would never hook up in the first place.
Hell, I figure that seeking out someone whose life and mental health are in a total state of disarray is pretty much the only way I’m ever going to trick anyone into going out with me.
Honestly, I think my target demographic probably consists entirely of recently deprogrammed cult members. They’re probably the only people vulnerable enough and sufficiently suggestible to fall for what I laughingly call my charm.
Anyway, moving on to other subjects, I should mention that apart from my brief trip to Safeway last night I haven’t ventured out into the world at all this week.
Even before the whole $200 Sprint fiasco I was a little strapped for cash, so I wanted to keep my trips out into the world to a minimum, since they usually cost me money.
Now I’m down to having $16 to live on after I pay rent, so the cupboards are going to be pretty bare around here.
I’ve got over $100 in Wal-Mart gift cards, but the Wal-Mart around here has a pretty limited selection as far as food goes.
Besides, I don’t think that Pam, Logistics Manager, works there anyway, so it’s not like I’d be able to gain some access to Mandy via my local Wal-Mart.
Apart from the money thing, though, I’ve just been feeling this vague and undefined sense of low-level anxiety all week. I’m not really sure what’s behind it, but it’s made me feel even more inclined than usual to stick close to home.
Of course, it could actually be a result of spending so much time at home. Who can say?
In any case, I think that’s about it for today. Come back tomorrow when I will present the first-ever Threshold Year in Review!

An Open Letter to Mandy, Daughter of Pam, Logistics Manager

Note: I’m sure you’ve all seen the Wal-Mart fliers that feature employees and their family members as models. The most recent flier features a hot redhead named Mandy on the cover. Obviously I don't know much about Mandy, other than that she's hot and she looks good in a powder-blue track suit while standing next to a treadmill, and that her mom, Pam, is a Logistics Manager (whatever that is). So since I liked what I saw, I figured I'd make use of Threshold as a public forum in which to express my interest in learning more.

Hello,

So…how’s it going?

Later,

Jon

A "Monster" of a Performance, Cluelessness, Helplessness, and the Futuristic Wonderworld We Live In

I finally got to see the movie “Monster” in its entirety last night, as Adelphia chose not to have my digital cable cut out in the middle of it the way it did last week.
I have to say that I was impressed. The movie itself was only so-so, but the performance put in by Charlize Theron was every bit as amazing as I’ve heard. It was made especially impressive by the fact that none of her previous performances had ever even hinted at her being capable of something like this.
So if you get a chance, I’d advise checking it out.
What I found interesting is that I’ve known a lot of people very much like the characters presented in “Monster,” though so far as I know none of them have been serial killers, or even prostitutes for that matter.
It’s more in the way of similarities in an overall approach to life, I think, and some specific patterns of behavior that I recognized. There are a lot of people back home who wouldn’t have seemed out of place in the setting of the movie, and I’m sure there are people in small communities all across the country who would be equally at home there.
I got a very late start today, sleeping in until after 11, though considering that I was up until nearly 4, I guess it can’t really be looked at as “sleeping in.”
As I was sitting around trying to decide whether or not I was going to venture out into the world at all today, my mom called to ask me about something.
When I was hanging up I noticed that my phone’s LED flashed, which I knew meant…something.
I had gotten a text message while on the phone, maybe?
Yes, that was the one.
The message informed me that, once again, my service had been shut off due to the overall incompetence of the people who switched me over to the discounted plan.
A couple of hours on the phone with various people at Sprint, several contradictory explanations, and $200 later and I was finally working again.
Why $200? I still have no real idea.
Whenever I tried to pay my bill online I was unable to access my invoice, and it told me that I had a zero balance.
I sort of assumed that when I started the new billing cycle I might be hit with a surprise, but in the meantime there really wasn’t much that I could do, and I didn’t figure on being shut off again.
When I called in the first person I talked to told me that I owed $200, but that after I paid it I could talk to the actual customer service people, since he was with some group dedicated to dealing with suspended accounts, and straighten it out.
As I said, there was a tremendous amount of incompetence involved.
Anyway, after doing a lot of swearing, and hearing some vague explanations about prorating, I bit the bullet and paid the $200, then called back to talk to customer service, only to find that my service was STILL suspended, and that the automated system claimed that I still owed $86.
After getting connected to someone in Atlanta who couldn’t help me, I was transferred to India, and then finally I was transferred again and I talked to someone who explained that, just as I had known all along, all I really owed was the remaining payment on my old, pre-discount account, and that I now had a $200 credit on my new, discounted account.
The remaining balance on my old account still hadn’t been paid, though.
*Sigh*
She also figured out that some weird prorating issue had messed up my balance by performing some sort of arcane calculation of my minutes used, which put me well over my usage limit even though, as I always am, I was well below my monthly limit.
So she basically gave me a bunch of free minutes to put me below the limit, then took the amount I still owed on my old account from the $200 credit on my new account, and as it stands I have service, and should, presumably, be paid up in advance for some time to come.
Of course, the unexpected loss of $200 has tightened my purse strings considerably for the next week and a half, so on top of all of the irritation involved, I’m pretty much broke.
Fun stuff.
Beyond that, the day was pretty uneventful, apart from re-reading, and thoroughly enjoying, some “Sin City” stories.
Last night when I went out to push that guy off the ice I had sort of an odd experience.
I had gone out to help him because I know how much I would have appreciated having someone help me on Saturday, and because no one else, even though there were a bunch of people who were much closer, seemed to be doing it.
Anyway, when I got there, I noticed that the guy’s wife/girlfriend was standing there watching him try to back out.
The amount of force needed to push the car off the ice was so minimal that a child could have done it, so there’s reason that this woman couldn’t have pushed him.
It just struck me as incredibly anachronistic, like some fight scene in an old serial western in which the woman just stands helplessly by and watches while the men fight to the death.
Hey honey, haven’t you ever seen a Virginia Slims ad? You’ve come a long way, baby…now get your ass in front of the car and push.
After I accepted their thanks and headed back for my apartment I shook my head in dismay at the whole thing, and thought about all the times that my mom has helped my dad with chopping and piling firewood, or hauling heavy things around, and just generally helping him with various other tasks that this woman would, apparently, have been altogether too dainty for.
Still, even if she was somehow too dainty to engage in such an activity, why didn’t she get behind the wheel while he pushed?
I mean, that’s what I would do, even though I would expect the woman to at least offer to push.
Beyond the woman’s sexist view of herself and her capabilities (or maybe just her own selfishness), though, I guess that in a larger sense it’s just demonstrative of how utterly helpless people around here are when it comes to winter.
Considering this, it’s no wonder that school closures are announced hours in advance of the first flake even falling when a “storm” is predicted.
If I hadn’t helped them out, it’s likely that they never would have gotten out, since I doubt that they would have figured out that, since there were two of them, one of them could push.
I don’t think anyone else would have helped them, either, and not because they didn’t care, or were bad people, but because performing such an act would have never occurred to them. People in this area are just totally mystified by any weather pattern other than a warm, sunny day.
And sometimes even those can lead to panic in the streets.
In any case, this couple hung up on the ice was completely hosed until I came along, and we’re only talking about a relatively small patch of ice. There isn’t even any snow to be found anywhere in the area, so we’re not even talking about a winter wonderland, let alone the frozen tundra.
I guess I should be too hard on them, though, since not everyone has experienced just how harsh winter can be the way that I have.
Still, human beings are renowned for their ability to adapt, and considering how truly mild winter really is here, it shouldn’t be that difficult to adapt to it.
So I guess what I’m saying is that most of the people in Northern VA need to grow a pair. At worst they’re going to have to deal with a couple of inches of snow in a winter that will effectively be over before the end of February.
Just because you see a couple of flakes fall from the sky it doesn’t mean you have to turn into the Donner Party or something. You’ll survive.
The problem is, though, that they never learn that lesson after they do survive the winter. It’s as if they completely forget what just happened the moment spring arrives, and so they’re caught completely off guard the next time the temperature starts to dip again. “You mean this happens every year? I thought it was just the one time.”
Ah well, it’s going to be a long winter (In relative terms at least. Not a long, October through May winter like I'm used to), and I’m sure I’ll have plenty more complaining to do on this subject. Best not to vent it all today.
I did end up venturing out into the world briefly.
I walked over to Safeway to get some milk.
I did so unwashed and unshaven, as I decided that I just don’t care.
In any case, when I was heading up to the register I thought I had lucked out, as the Express lane was actually open (for a change) and free of customers. There was a couple in front of me, but they had more than fifteen items, and so they were going to keep walking...until the cashier decided to be generous and ring them up anyway.
Still, it was likely to be the fastest line in the place anyway, especially since they didn’t have that much more than fifteen items, so it shouldn’t have taken them that long to get through. So I got behind them.
Of course, I failed to factor in the fact that they were in their fifties, which meant that something would happen to make this take longer than it really should.
In my mind it was a toss-up as to whether that something would be some dispute (exacerbated by the language barrier with the cashier [which would itself be exacerbated by hearing impairment on the part of the couple]) over the price that some individual item rang up at, or if it would be caused by the fact that once you reach a certain age you lose the ability to comprehend any technology developed after 1970.
It was, as the lady struggled to understand the credit card reader, decidedly the latter.
Still, it didn’t take nearly as long as it could have, and eventually I made my way home, ate my dinner, and sat down to write this.
And that brings us up to date.
At least for the purposes of this entry.

New Feature! Stay On The Bleeding Edge of Threshold!

If you look to the bottom of the sidebar on the right, below where it says "I Power Blogger," you'll see a field you can enter your e-mail address in. This will sign you up to receive an e-mail when Threshold is updated.
And won't that be exciting?

On Thin Ice, Claus Encounters, and Another Dream Destroyed by Sports

As most of you know, I’m something of a homebody and I work an odd schedule, so I tend to be home more often than not.
However, the people who live in my apartment complex must be even bigger homebodies and work even odder schedules, as they never seem to go anywhere.
This is evidenced by the fact that at any given time, on any given day, the parking lot is almost always full. There are only very limited windows of opportunity during which I can manage to snag a parking space in front of, or even anywhere near, my building.
As I drove home on Christmas Eve, I had hoped that the holidays would prove an exception, and that my neighbors would actually have someplace else to go for a change.
I soon discovered that this wasn’t the case, as there were, as per usual, no spaces available in front of my building.
There was, however, a spot near my building, and so I parked there.
Because I was paying attention only to the fact that it was relatively near my building, I didn’t notice that this space was the one where excess water always seems to gather, and that said water had frozen solid, which is undoubtedly why the space was actually available.
So in the entire parking space I had managed to park on the only patch of ice.
As I slid forward to the point that my front tires were stopped only by hitting the curb, I knew that this was going to be bad.
Still, as I so often do, I resolved to deal with it in the morning.
Lying in bed that night I envisioned just how much of a pain in the ass it was going to be to get out of that space in the morning, but eventually I drifted off to sleep that was filled with neither visions of sugar plums, nor, in fact, of strippers.
At 4:15 my alarm announced that Christmas had arrived. Hooray! Maybe as a present Santa had moved my car for me.
He hadn’t, but at least he hadn’t put a lump of coal (or something worse) in my stocking, though that probably was only because I hadn’t hung a stocking. If I had, I’m sure I would have found a “gift” from Rudolf or one of the other reindeer in it.
I had considered not getting up to work out and “sleeping in” until 5 as something of a Christmas present to myself, but ultimately decided against it, and so I was up, as on most Saturdays, way too friggin’ early in the morning.
Out I went into the cold Christmas morning and started up my car, which, when put into reverse, moved back about two feet before the tires began simply spinning.
It was pretty much exactly how I’d envisioned it while lying in bed (Who says that dreams don’t come true?).
I admitted defeat early, and avoided spending too much time spinning my wheels.
Then I considered my options.
I could either try to find some way to get my car moving on my own, or forego the workout, take a shower, get dressed, and then call Brian and Kathleen. As they would be leaving work early, I wouldn’t be able to just catch a ride with them, so I would have basically just needed them to give me a push.
As I considered that option, I realized that the car really didn’t need to be moved far in order to be off of the ice, and my car is fairly small…
So I threw it into neutral and tried to push it off the ice on my own.
It’s worth noting at this point that this was, literally, an uphill battle, as there is quite a slant there (which is why water builds up that area in the first place).
I managed to successfully move my car back about five feet, which wasn’t quite enough to get it off of the ice. I might have been able to push it farther, but I essentially ran out of solid ground, as the ice waited in front of me if I stepped forward any further.
So I eased the car back to its original position and once again considered my options.
If I weren’t the cold-hearted, animal-hating, nihilistic, mean, doo-doo-headed bastard that I am who is probably only allergic to pet dander because he’s a cold-hearted etc., I would own a cat, and therefore have access to cat litter which I could put on the ice to provide my tires with some traction.
However, I am a cold-hearted etc., and so I had no cat litter to speak of.
What I did have, though, was the soil and mulch that the various decorative shrubs around my apartment complex are planted in. I managed to dig up enough to successfully free my car, and thus I was on my way, with enough time to spare to get in a workout in addition to the one I’d gotten from attempting to move my car without the benefit of an internal combustion engine.
In the spirit of the day, I did actually listen to a Christmas song on my mp3 player while I was on the treadmill.
Well, it’s kind of a Christmas song. It has “Christmas” in the title, at any rate, there are some “jingle bells” in it (Type O Negative – “Red Water (Christmas Mourning)” Lyrics).
After I finished my workout I headed for the locker room to shower and get dressed.
On occasion, even though I’m there well before most of the world is awake, I do encounter other employees making use of the showers in the locker room, though most mornings it’s typically the same person.
On this particular occasion I encountered someone who, and I’m not kidding, looked like Santa Claus.
He didn’t have a beard, though he did have a mustache, and he had clearly just finished showering and getting dressed (and possibly shaving), and was gathering up his sack (again, I’m not kidding, though I guess it was really more of a backpack), and was on his way out.
If he was an employee, he’s one I’ve never seen before.
I have to say, though, that he didn’t appear especially jolly, but if he had just completed the task of traveling around the world and dispensing gifts to all the good little children, one can hardly blame him.
After all, even though he only really works one day a year, it has to be pretty grueling. I can relate; cramming a full work-week into three days can be brutal, so it has to be that much worse to cram an entire year into one day.
Plus he has to spend that work day with nothing to look at but reindeer assholes and trying to squeeze down chimneys and avoid being seen by nosy little brats the world over.
And you just know that Mrs. Claus is waiting for him when he gets home to bitch him out because she figures he’s probably got girlfriends all over the planet waiting to get their stocking stuffed and for him to come down their chimneys, especially since he has that whole voyeurism problem, and besides that he has to deal with those gay little elves singing their fruity songs all year long, and every year there are more and more rabble-rousers stirring up talk about unionizing…
So I don’t think I’d be especially jolly either.
Then again, I also don’t think I’d stop to shower and shave in Northern Virginia, either. Come on Santa; think tropical!
In any case, the rest of the day proceeded very slowly. We were down to three people on Friday and Saturday: myself and Brian and Kathleen.
Not too long ago a full complement on our shift consisted of six people (not counting Scott, since, as the boss, he never does any actual work).
But with the layoffs, a resignation, and people off for the holidays, we were down to three.
Until three o’clock, when Brian and Kathleen took off early to head to Kathleen’s dad’s, bringing us down to one.
Eventually, though he arrived late, someone from another shift who had volunteered to fill in for the remainder of the day came in and there were two of us.
The day itself was filled with some work-specific headaches that I won’t get into here, and overall it didn’t feel much like Christmas so much as it felt like a really irritating day at work, where, incidentally, in Scott’s absence I was in charge, which only added to the fun.
For their part, Brian and Kathleen found that their flight to Ohio had been cancelled shortly before they were set to leave for the airport, and eventually they had to resort to driving to her dad's.
So that was their Christmas present.
On the topic of presents, the only actual gift I got, apart from the gifts from Scott and Stacy, was a new wallet from my sister Kristy. Apparently it was some sort of gift set, as it arrived in this odd little wooden box. It’s a nice wallet, though, and I was actually thinking about getting a new one, so that worked out.
Beyond that, I got Wal-Mart gift cards from my mom and dad and from my brother Brad, and I will undoubtedly be getting another gift card in the mail from my sister Kim, as she had nearly forgotten to get me anything, and so hadn’t mailed it until Thursday.
“Flame Chick” had made an appearance at work on Christmas day, apparently filling in for someone else, as that's not her usual shift.
Throughout the course of the day I came to discover, from her exchanges with other people there, that she is a rabid sports fan.
This, of course, means that, if such a thing is possible, there’s even less chance of anything developing between us. I say “if such a thing is possible,” since there was already no chance.
(As I type this, the unmistakable sound of tires spinning on ice alerts me to the fact that someone else is presently engaged in a struggle with the icy patch.)
So that was kind of a letdown. The Vegetarian thing had seemed like kind of an obstacle, but since she doesn’t seem to be preachy about it, I figured it wasn’t too big of a deal.
Fanatical interest in sports, though, is utterly unacceptable (There will be a Threshold entry on this particular topic at some point in the future).
Still, even though I had come to know that there could never be anything between us due to the vast schism that my discovery of her interest in sports had created, I couldn’t help but notice that the back of her long, graceful neck, revealed by the fact that she was wearing her beautiful auburn hair up, seemed to have been designed for being kissed and…*sigh*
Why did it have to be sports?
(By the way, I went out and gave the poor bastard a push and got him off the ice.)
But in any case, that was my Christmas.
Still, the little ways that the Universe tried to mess with me were absolutely nothing compared to what it pulled with the earthquake and tsunamis.
Nice timing, too. What a wonderful way to say Merry Christmas to the world...
On Sunday I was the only original member of my shift, working with the assistance of two people from other shifts (including the guy who’d come in on Saturday) who had volunteered to fill in for my shift’s missing members.
I usually only see the two of them during our shift overlap on Friday mornings, so I don’t know them very well. Having to work with people I don’t know, and who do things very differently than we do them on my shift, made it a very long day.
But it’s over now, and soon life will be back to normal.
Not that “normal” is really all that much better, but hey, you take what you can get.
In any case, the holidays are nearly over with, thankfully, and soon we’ll be starting a new year.
I can’t imagine it will be much different from the last few, but hey, anything’s possible I guess…