Saturday, August 27, 2005
Happy Birthday to...
ME! That's right, 29 years ago in a hospital in Omaha, Nebraska, yours truely was born! I just spent a wonderful meal with my sister, Lora, eating some of Wyoming's best Prime Rib. Feel free to comment and ask for directions on where to shower your gifts!
Friday, August 26, 2005
Homesickness...
Seems like forever since I've been home when actually it has only been 3 weeks and 4,500 miles. But what is great about homesickness is that it makes you appreciate where you live and the people around you that much more. It's true... absence makes the heart grow fonder. I've seen many parts of Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and now Wyoming, but no where looks as nice as my condo that I share with my buddy Phil or even my second "home" in Vancouver with Ada. I just want to tell everyone how much my friends mean to me... and if any of you are reading this, know that I miss you alot and your friendships mean the world to me. See ya in a week... I hope!
Friday, August 19, 2005
Reverse Discrimination through the Eyes of a Stupid White Guy
Because I know some of you like disclaimers: this post is entirely for entertainment purposes and not really based on any specific epitaph, slur, or derogatory comment. The story is based in the oversimplified perspective of an exhausted, road weary, sleep deprived white boy. I work with native tribes all the time, and I have a great (but slow) time with them. Please keep this in mind while reading the following. Thank you.
-AAD
So there I was in Dulce, NM putting together some computers for little native kids on the Jicarilla (said HIC-a-REE-a) Navajo Reservation. Great people... very helpful for a guy, way out of his range, to find a place to eat lunch. They recommended "El Ranchero". That should of been a give away right there. So being beat from bustin' my hiney all morning (and starving to boot) I say what the heck and go in. Immediately I find the waitstaff having their lunch. That's cool... until 5 minutes go by and I'm wondering what to do. Eventually the guy just turns around, probably surprised I'm still there, and says to me to sit anywhere (would of been good to know that 5 minutes ago). So I sit down... they finish their lunch, the gal gets up and finally comes over with a menu. A VERY limited menu... but hey, I'm in the middle of nowhere. What is also weird is that all the dishes start at like $7. I'm not stingy or anything, but this place had the look of a $4 plate lunch...not really all that fancy. So I quickly order the first thing on the menu...because it looks like the specialty for the place. Two beef enchiladas, Spanish rice, something I didn't recognize, and beans in a green chili sauce. Sounded delicious.... unfortunately this is when it got really strange.
Shortly after I arrived and sat down, another party was seated and order was taken before me. Then as I waited for my food, a to-go order is put in by another lady, two other groups are seated and orders taken. I see the order come out pretty quickly for the people who came in after me, hoping that my order would soon come out too... I was starving! Now, I should point out that everyone there was 1) local 2) well known by the staff and 3) not white. I wouldn't dare make an assumptions about what everyone's background was, but I definitely stuck out. I then waited for what seemed like eternity (more like another 20 minutes). The waitress comes out with the orders for the other tables but right behind her is the guy who brings me this plate of something. It was a tortilla, with green sauce on it, a few strands of shredded lettuce, these strange popcorn looking things (which turned out to be what I can't pronounce or spell, but where good) and three grains of Spanish rice. I assume, "well maybe this is the toppings for my enchiladas..." so I dig in. This is when I notice two disheartening things. There are two pinto beans in the green sauce... and something that could of been 1/16th of an ounce of beef or a booger. Screw it I thought, not happy at this point, but needing food and to get back on the job. I scarfed down the food and went to pay. The "guy" who was working at that point did fix things for me. He charged me for only half of what I owed because he said my plate was lame and when he mentioned it to the cook, she told him to screw off. Lovely...
So what did I learn from this? That:
1) you shouldn't jump to conclusions even if you're the only member of a certain group in a room, and you don't get any kind of service and a lame plate, possibly made with a phlegm byproduct
2) ignorant and small minded people exist everywhere and come in every shade
3) I get to leave the Rez and go back to my irritatingly progressive, fairly color-blind, rainy home... someday.
-AAD
So there I was in Dulce, NM putting together some computers for little native kids on the Jicarilla (said HIC-a-REE-a) Navajo Reservation. Great people... very helpful for a guy, way out of his range, to find a place to eat lunch. They recommended "El Ranchero". That should of been a give away right there. So being beat from bustin' my hiney all morning (and starving to boot) I say what the heck and go in. Immediately I find the waitstaff having their lunch. That's cool... until 5 minutes go by and I'm wondering what to do. Eventually the guy just turns around, probably surprised I'm still there, and says to me to sit anywhere (would of been good to know that 5 minutes ago). So I sit down... they finish their lunch, the gal gets up and finally comes over with a menu. A VERY limited menu... but hey, I'm in the middle of nowhere. What is also weird is that all the dishes start at like $7. I'm not stingy or anything, but this place had the look of a $4 plate lunch...not really all that fancy. So I quickly order the first thing on the menu...because it looks like the specialty for the place. Two beef enchiladas, Spanish rice, something I didn't recognize, and beans in a green chili sauce. Sounded delicious.... unfortunately this is when it got really strange.
Shortly after I arrived and sat down, another party was seated and order was taken before me. Then as I waited for my food, a to-go order is put in by another lady, two other groups are seated and orders taken. I see the order come out pretty quickly for the people who came in after me, hoping that my order would soon come out too... I was starving! Now, I should point out that everyone there was 1) local 2) well known by the staff and 3) not white. I wouldn't dare make an assumptions about what everyone's background was, but I definitely stuck out. I then waited for what seemed like eternity (more like another 20 minutes). The waitress comes out with the orders for the other tables but right behind her is the guy who brings me this plate of something. It was a tortilla, with green sauce on it, a few strands of shredded lettuce, these strange popcorn looking things (which turned out to be what I can't pronounce or spell, but where good) and three grains of Spanish rice. I assume, "well maybe this is the toppings for my enchiladas..." so I dig in. This is when I notice two disheartening things. There are two pinto beans in the green sauce... and something that could of been 1/16th of an ounce of beef or a booger. Screw it I thought, not happy at this point, but needing food and to get back on the job. I scarfed down the food and went to pay. The "guy" who was working at that point did fix things for me. He charged me for only half of what I owed because he said my plate was lame and when he mentioned it to the cook, she told him to screw off. Lovely...
So what did I learn from this? That:
1) you shouldn't jump to conclusions even if you're the only member of a certain group in a room, and you don't get any kind of service and a lame plate, possibly made with a phlegm byproduct
2) ignorant and small minded people exist everywhere and come in every shade
3) I get to leave the Rez and go back to my irritatingly progressive, fairly color-blind, rainy home... someday.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Driving Angst...
Well I made it to Denver... over 1300 miles and 24 hours later. Phew...
As I drove listening to a combination of audio book, music and the bible on CD (yeah, it's 70 CD's...) I was confronted by the ugly face of automotive humanity. Mind you, I've seen it all a million times before...
Ayric-Road-Enemy #1... the trucker. Seriously... I can't stand these guys (and probably a few gals). I suspect most are high on meth and drunk, because their driving skills could only be explained in such a way. Here's what truckers do that drive me insane. Take your average, level, perfectly straight, four lane highway. On any given mile there are two truckers. They hate me... it's certain.
They are traveling at the posted truck limit in the right lane... then they see me. The front truck will slow down to the pace of a wounded, three-toed sloth who's lost 2 out of 3 toes... on each paw. The rear truck will slow too... wait until the last nanometer to pull out right in front of me... and go 1/2 mile faster than the toe-less slothmobile. SO I have to sit there... looking at "Wash Me" and various profanity for about 500 miles. Unless there's a boob bar or casino... which they always promptly pull off at. OR...
I'll be traveling my law-minded 9.999999 miles over the limit, cruising along, enjoying the amazing scenery and a particularly good audio book or bible passage that speaks to me... and then I'll see a speck on the horizon in my rear-view mirror. Probably a car I think, and glance down at the gas (always mindful of my worst nightmare.... to run out of gas). Takes perhaps a half a second... when I look up and there is no horizon anymore but the word "MAC" with a vertical stripped background... and a large angry horn blaring behind me. This is when this "driver" tries to park his rig in the passenger's seat. After awhile, this possible missing-link of Teamster evolution passes by me with a brave, grimy, profane salute. I wave and smile back...
What really just confuses me however is the Left-Lane-Driving, What's-Cruise-Control?, Heather. Sorry ladies but after over 70,000 miles in two years... this person NEVER fails to be a woman. Usually with "Peter" (more on "Peters" and "Heathers"...with proper credit given to the coiners... in later posts) who can't possibly drive more than 50 miles without wrinkling his American Eagle shorts or messing up his frosted, spiked hair. So Heather is prattling on to poor Peter... oblivious that there are thousands of cars behind her and she's going somewhere between -2 and 100 miles an hour... in the left lane.
(disclaimer: I am not referring to ALL women, but only the small minority who drive this way)
Usually, however, I cruise along, alone, unharmed or taunted in anyway. Enjoying the most beautiful parts of our great country... until that speck appears behind me, and Heather in front... I pull over and sleep then.
As I drove listening to a combination of audio book, music and the bible on CD (yeah, it's 70 CD's...) I was confronted by the ugly face of automotive humanity. Mind you, I've seen it all a million times before...
Ayric-Road-Enemy #1... the trucker. Seriously... I can't stand these guys (and probably a few gals). I suspect most are high on meth and drunk, because their driving skills could only be explained in such a way. Here's what truckers do that drive me insane. Take your average, level, perfectly straight, four lane highway. On any given mile there are two truckers. They hate me... it's certain.
They are traveling at the posted truck limit in the right lane... then they see me. The front truck will slow down to the pace of a wounded, three-toed sloth who's lost 2 out of 3 toes... on each paw. The rear truck will slow too... wait until the last nanometer to pull out right in front of me... and go 1/2 mile faster than the toe-less slothmobile. SO I have to sit there... looking at "Wash Me" and various profanity for about 500 miles. Unless there's a boob bar or casino... which they always promptly pull off at. OR...
I'll be traveling my law-minded 9.999999 miles over the limit, cruising along, enjoying the amazing scenery and a particularly good audio book or bible passage that speaks to me... and then I'll see a speck on the horizon in my rear-view mirror. Probably a car I think, and glance down at the gas (always mindful of my worst nightmare.... to run out of gas). Takes perhaps a half a second... when I look up and there is no horizon anymore but the word "MAC" with a vertical stripped background... and a large angry horn blaring behind me. This is when this "driver" tries to park his rig in the passenger's seat. After awhile, this possible missing-link of Teamster evolution passes by me with a brave, grimy, profane salute. I wave and smile back...
What really just confuses me however is the Left-Lane-Driving, What's-Cruise-Control?, Heather. Sorry ladies but after over 70,000 miles in two years... this person NEVER fails to be a woman. Usually with "Peter" (more on "Peters" and "Heathers"...with proper credit given to the coiners... in later posts) who can't possibly drive more than 50 miles without wrinkling his American Eagle shorts or messing up his frosted, spiked hair. So Heather is prattling on to poor Peter... oblivious that there are thousands of cars behind her and she's going somewhere between -2 and 100 miles an hour... in the left lane.
(disclaimer: I am not referring to ALL women, but only the small minority who drive this way)
Usually, however, I cruise along, alone, unharmed or taunted in anyway. Enjoying the most beautiful parts of our great country... until that speck appears behind me, and Heather in front... I pull over and sleep then.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
My New Party Game...
Due to the craziness that is my job, I'll have to keep this short... probably not alot of new posts in the next few weeks unless I find some reliable net access on the road.
Tonight, quite by random, while hangin out with Phil and my seldom, MIA-friend, Julian, we played what I could only call the "Movie-Actor" game. Name a movie and then the next person has to name an actor from the movie. Keep it going by the person after them naming a different movie that the actor was in. Rinse and repeat... for hours. Trust me it's quite fun and you can keep it going for quite some time. Probably the most fun I've had in years... or maybe it was the margaritas at Kirkland's Cactus (or iCactus! if you prefer).
Off to Denver on Saturday! Three weeks in the Rockies comin' up!
Tonight, quite by random, while hangin out with Phil and my seldom, MIA-friend, Julian, we played what I could only call the "Movie-Actor" game. Name a movie and then the next person has to name an actor from the movie. Keep it going by the person after them naming a different movie that the actor was in. Rinse and repeat... for hours. Trust me it's quite fun and you can keep it going for quite some time. Probably the most fun I've had in years... or maybe it was the margaritas at Kirkland's Cactus (or iCactus! if you prefer).
Off to Denver on Saturday! Three weeks in the Rockies comin' up!
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