OldSouth took another journey to Planet Knucklehead yesterday. The details don't matter, 'cuz you endure it as well, the slow-drip torture of burning irretrievable time getting simple things accomplished, which seem now to be not so simple.
OS is contemplating how to change his way of operating in this world, to avoid these sorts of things, hasn't come to a conclusion yet. He just can't be engaged constantly in the business of putting out small fires and get his work done, or have time and mental energy for those he loves.
Mrs. OS is teaching him the joys of Craig's List. Find the item, take some cash with, go buy the item (at a huge discount to retail), and go home.
There is a certain simple beauty in that approach. No shopping malls or telephone dweebs to deal with. This week, a lovely table was acquired, as well as three never-played woods with their covers, for a total of $65.
Tomorrow, shelves for the bathroom.
Showing posts with label Planet Knucklehead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Planet Knucklehead. Show all posts
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Planet Knucklehead, Chapter 4: James Kwak Attempts To Move His Phone And DSL To His New Home
It would be funnier, were it not so common.
At least Mr. Kwak, a most erudite economist, has some good insights into why we live on Planet Knucklehead.
Enjoy.
At least Mr. Kwak, a most erudite economist, has some good insights into why we live on Planet Knucklehead.
Enjoy.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Planet Knucklehead, Chapter 3: Unite Union (UK) Votes To Strike Six Airports During Height Of Holiday Travel
3074 votes cast, potentially affecting the lives of millions around the world.
Air travel already a horrible hassle?
'Screw you, mate, we're here to get ours.'
SO, if it's really that awful, why not seek your employment elsewhere? Betcha someone somewhere in the UK might be delighted to take over your job.
'Screw you, mate, we're here to get ours.'
But if you strike, family members miss weddings and funerals of those they love. Vital mail doesn't deliver. Businesses around the world that support families just like yours suffer. Somebody might just die if they don't make it to the right hospital because you snarled the world's air traffic. Does this not matter to you?
'Screw you, mate, we're here to get ours.'
Air travel already a horrible hassle?
'Screw you, mate, we're here to get ours.'
SO, if it's really that awful, why not seek your employment elsewhere? Betcha someone somewhere in the UK might be delighted to take over your job.
'Screw you, mate, we're here to get ours.'
But if you strike, family members miss weddings and funerals of those they love. Vital mail doesn't deliver. Businesses around the world that support families just like yours suffer. Somebody might just die if they don't make it to the right hospital because you snarled the world's air traffic. Does this not matter to you?
'Screw you, mate, we're here to get ours.'
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Planet Knucklehead, Chapter 2: In Honor Of Our Public School System...
...the BBC provides coverage of the now nearly-famous sign painted on a road in North Carolina.
Makes OS just wanna stand up and cheer for Congress, as they helicopter drop 26 billion more dollars onto the education establishment in the states.
Never in history have we paid so much, and received so little. Even more wasteful than war, where at least our military blows the things up they aim at.
Life in the third world.
Makes OS just wanna stand up and cheer for Congress, as they helicopter drop 26 billion more dollars onto the education establishment in the states.
Never in history have we paid so much, and received so little. Even more wasteful than war, where at least our military blows the things up they aim at.
Life in the third world.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Planet Knucklehead
OS was visited by an insight sometime in the wee hours this morning. It came about as a result of a near-death experience the day previous.
The sainted Mrs. OS owns a Volvo station wagon, bought in the wake of her previous Volvo station wagon being used by a despairing nine-point buck who decided to end it all by walking in front her vehicle on the highway one late night. The buck died, and the occupants of the car walked away. World's best advertisement--survival.
Mrs. OS drives to Louisville about two weeks ago, and on the way discovers a major oil leak in the engine. Off to the mechanic it goes, only to find out that the problem is not desperate (like a head gasket job), and can be repaired. So, OS sez--repair it, we'll go up when it's finished, and I'll drive it back. No biggie.
OS drives said Volvo home, and 100 yards from the house, the car dies. Oil pressure light comes on, car will start, but car won't go past about 10 mph. He raises the hood, and there is oil everywhere in the engine compartment. He limps it home, calls his trusty local mechanic. Tow truck takes car, and the local mechanic looks it over.
One person who worked on it in Louisville had checked one hose leading to the turbo, perhaps to see if it was the source of the leak. Problem is, he didn't remember to tighten the clamp that held the hose in place. Hose pops off 100 yards from home, car dies. Home mechanic clamps hose in place, test drives it, charges $53 for his troubles, which OS gladly pays.
Had said hose popped off twenty minutes earlier, Mrs. OS would now be finalizing funeral plans for her husband, and no one would have ever known why that Volvo wagon suddenly stalled in front of that semi going 75 mph.
It was a near-death experience. OS nearly died because one knucklehead did not take the time to tighten one clamp. He's alive because a Volvo line worker did take the time to make sure the airbags were hooked up properly in 1992, on the previous Volvo.
Planet Knucklehead.
The second insight was: 'This feels familiar, this grinding sense of what's-going-to-fall-apart-next'. Last time he had it, he was living in a third world country. He coped with it, knowing he had his passport to a first-world country.
He doesn't have a passport out of the third-world country in which he now lives.
The sainted Mrs. OS owns a Volvo station wagon, bought in the wake of her previous Volvo station wagon being used by a despairing nine-point buck who decided to end it all by walking in front her vehicle on the highway one late night. The buck died, and the occupants of the car walked away. World's best advertisement--survival.
Mrs. OS drives to Louisville about two weeks ago, and on the way discovers a major oil leak in the engine. Off to the mechanic it goes, only to find out that the problem is not desperate (like a head gasket job), and can be repaired. So, OS sez--repair it, we'll go up when it's finished, and I'll drive it back. No biggie.
OS drives said Volvo home, and 100 yards from the house, the car dies. Oil pressure light comes on, car will start, but car won't go past about 10 mph. He raises the hood, and there is oil everywhere in the engine compartment. He limps it home, calls his trusty local mechanic. Tow truck takes car, and the local mechanic looks it over.
One person who worked on it in Louisville had checked one hose leading to the turbo, perhaps to see if it was the source of the leak. Problem is, he didn't remember to tighten the clamp that held the hose in place. Hose pops off 100 yards from home, car dies. Home mechanic clamps hose in place, test drives it, charges $53 for his troubles, which OS gladly pays.
Had said hose popped off twenty minutes earlier, Mrs. OS would now be finalizing funeral plans for her husband, and no one would have ever known why that Volvo wagon suddenly stalled in front of that semi going 75 mph.
It was a near-death experience. OS nearly died because one knucklehead did not take the time to tighten one clamp. He's alive because a Volvo line worker did take the time to make sure the airbags were hooked up properly in 1992, on the previous Volvo.
Planet Knucklehead.
The second insight was: 'This feels familiar, this grinding sense of what's-going-to-fall-apart-next'. Last time he had it, he was living in a third world country. He coped with it, knowing he had his passport to a first-world country.
He doesn't have a passport out of the third-world country in which he now lives.
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