In Nebraska they had a mix up grading the bar exam. Three people who had thought they passed were told, the day before swearing in, that they had in fact failed. Three who had thought they had failed got a call telling them they passed.
Naturally, it made me think of my bar experience. Most people, take a prep course before the bar exam. I was no different. Even though you take 3 years of coursework to obtain your Juris Doctorate (and incidentally there are some extremely insecure people who insist that they should be called "Dr." after obtaining this degree), the bar exam is still quite the beast. The first day typically tests state specific law and is a series of essays. The second day is 200 multiple choice questions that all applicants, regardless of state, take.
I took the exam in the summer of 2011, and it was an extremely stressful summer. We were expecting our second child. I was still working full time, and there was this fear that you could never prepare enough or know enough for the bar exam. And that it is true. There may be people that get every question on the exam right, I don't think there are many. The goal is simply to pass. There will be questions that you have no idea how to answer, but you hope there are enough that you get the minimum score. The fear is that you will not though. From May to July I studied. Some of the material I was familiar with, but some was very new to me. For instance, I had not enrolled in any classes related to Family Law, but that is something they test pretty frequently. So I had to get a crash course in custody issues, annulments v. divorces, taxation of alimony but no taxation of child support (and how they try to prevent people from cheating on this) etc.
In the beginning you focus on learning or refreshing your memory on certain issues. Most of the tested areas are taught during the first year of law school, so it is no longer fresh in your mind. Almost no law school teaches State specific law, so that is all new. Fortunately, it is little nuances that are not overly difficult, but it still stressful. So you prep and you prep. The prep is not the tough part, it is the mental battle. It is the feeling that you will never master enough to pass the damn thing. The fear of failure is two-fold. First, no-one likes to fail at anything. It would be a huge blow to the ego. But second, you cannot actually be an attorney unless you pass the bar. If you do fail, you need to wait 6 months before you can take it again. 6 months. It is not cheap to register either.
I was fortunate enough to take the exam in a very nice facility run by the University of Chicago. It was easy to get to, it was run very well, there were no glitches. It was still nerve wracking though. They sit you alphabetically by last name, and then call you one by one. Given my very common last name, there were probably a dozen or so of us. The nice thing now is that you can take the exam by computer. You have to download software that essentially locks you out of your computer so that you cannot access any external resources, but you do get the advantage of a word processor. This is great because my handwriting is pretty crappy and you have the ability to edit your work. Of course, you do get the added fear that your laptop will choose to crash on that particular day. This always happens to at least one person who then has to hand write the exam. Fortunately, it did not happen to me.
The morning session was 6 essays, 30 minutes a piece. 4 of them, I was very comfortable with. 1, was outside my comfort zone, but I still felt like I could give a good answer. I had no idea on the last one, I cannot even remember what it was about. I doubt I scored too many points on that. However, once they called time, I realized that for better or worse, I had put a part of the bar exam behind me. Another great part of the test location was that it was very close to an establishment called the "Billy Goat". The Billy Goat is one of my favorite places in Chicago. It is a famous dive bar located on lower Michigan Drive. Upper Michigan Drive is very posh with lots of fancy store fronts and beautiful parks. Lower Michigan Drive is subterranian, it is dark, it is mostly used by service vehicles to pick up garbage, make deliveries, etc. It is the perfect home for the Goat. Even though it is in the heart of the city, you can get a draft beer for $2.50. The real treat is the burgers though. The burgers are amazing. They use incredibly thin patties, probably about 16 to a pound! So, naturally, you order a double cheese. It is cooked just right, the bun is toasted and the toppings bar is very well maintained. The tomatoes are fresh, the lettuce crisp etc.
I couldn't pass up the Goat, it was so close. Probably out of habit, but also out of nerve, I ordered a double cheese and a Lager. This was the place to forget about the bar exam for a bit. I don't know what time the Goat opens in the morning, but even if it were 4 am, you would likely see a crowd downing a couple cold ones. As far as I could tell, I was the only person that had taken the bar that was frequenting this establishment for lunch. It was a mixture of tourists and salty older dudes that had found themselves in the fortunate, or unfortunate, position of passing a weekday at a bar! Unfortunately all good things come to an end, and it was time to head back for the second half. Apparently one person had judged that they had done so poorly on the morning session that they had chosen to call it quits!
The afternoon session is interesting. You don't need to know any law. You are given this package of statutes and case law and a hypothetical fact pattern. You then simply apply the law to the facts. It is a nice way to finish the first day. Day 2 is more stressful, in my opinion. 100 questions in 3 hours isn't too bad, almost everyone has time at the end to review their answers. Some questions I was almost positive on the correct answer, but there are so many where you feel that two answers could be correct. Most people recommend not changing your answers, but it is hard not to. Second, this part of the test is old school and you use a scantron. The fear is that even if you have changed the answer correctly, you may not have erased hard enough and you get marked wrong anyway! You really have to commit to erasing, but not go so far as to rip the old scantron. After the first 100 questions, it was back to the trusty Goat, and then the homestretch. The afternoon session is nice, because if you finish early you can just turn in your test and leave.
It was almost a let down when it was all said and done. It had gone so quickly. I took a riverboat to the train station because it was such a nice day. The sun was just over the skyline and it felt warm on my face. The boat was mostly empty and it was just a very calm moment. I didn't know if I would be back here, in the depths of winter, taking it all over again. I would have to wait. And wait. Even though the second day is graded by machine, and they have an army of graders, you have to wait 2.5 months to get your results.
Typically, results are released on 1 October. That year, 1 October was a Saturday, so I thought I would have to wait until Monday. When I woke up on 1 October, I had an e-mail. The e-mail told me that I had new information posted to my IL Bar account. I was still in bed and my wife was still sleeping. It was a one page PDF informing me that I had passed the bar. That was it. IL does not release your score, unless you fail, so I don't know whether I barely scraped by or not. It didn't matter though. I had passed. 2 days later, Erin was born. It was a very good start to the month.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Wise Molars
You usually run into some interesting people on public transit, but yesterday was particularly amusing:
1. The train I was riding was pretty empty. In my car, probably a full 1/2 to 3/4 of the seats were totally empty. Nevertheless, this one dude decided that he was going to sit next to me. In my view, there are some unwritten rules for dudes. First, even if you know the guy really well, you typically leave an empty seat between you in the theater. Second, talking to another guy while at the urinal is all fine and good, but typically the commode is not a place to chat. Third, generally you only sit next to a stranger on a train if there are no empty seats to choose from. Nevertheless, this guy just plopped down with no explanation. He seemed like a pretty regular guy, young, well dressed no clear signs of retardation.
2. The Navy Yard is close to the Nationals baseball stadium and they share a Metro stop. Yesterday was a game day. As I am proceeding to the escalator I run into a pretty portly fellow who is engaged in some sort of scam. At the moment I ran into him, he was finishing whatever tasty morsel he had ingested moments earlier, so his mouth was full. He has a number of baseball caps, probably about 25 or so, in his arm and he just shoves one at me. I try to wave him off, but he manages to choke down some, but not all, of his food and tells me, that they are giving away the hats. I should have just kept walking, but I didn't really hear him too well because his mouth was still quite full. He swallows again, and probably got 90% of the food down that time. Incidentally, the man must have taken an enormous bite or have a very small throat relative to his mouth size in order to have so much trouble swallowing a mouthful of food. He explains that they are giving away the hats and then gestures to another guy, also with a big stack of hats, and identifies him as a supervisor. He explains that they are giving away the hats but would like to collect money to donate to a women's shelter. I am not a National's fan, and I don't wear baseball caps, so I declined the offer. I tend to believe though that (a) the hats were stolen; and (2) the "women's shelter" was probably not going to see a nickel of whatever they "collected."
3. At the station near my house, people often set up shop playing music for money. Usually it is a saxophone or a drum, sometimes a guitar. However, this was something I was not expecting at all. A woman had set up shop with a full size Cello and a Harp! Just lugging one of those instruments would have taken some doing, but both was extraordinary. It was just her too, so she could only play one instrument at a time. People were not hanging around, so there was no chance that someone would get bored of listening to one instrument and wish that she would switch. The only thing more remarkable would be if someone had somehow lugged in a full size pipe organ out of a church. She also had a sign advertising CDs for sale. There was nothing remarkable about the sign except it made a big point of advertising that the CD that was available was CD #4! Maybe it had just been released that day, by her, and some eager commuter was looking to round out his collection. Or perhaps, she had issued #3 and #5 in large numbers and this was a limited release of #4, but for whatever reason, the main focus of the sign was that it was CD #4. Or at least the main focus of that sign, because she had a second sign that was awesome. This sign provided that she was due to have her wisdom teeth removed and that she would be unable to work for awhile. I really should have asked some questions, because there is so much I wonder about.
a. What type of job is particularly impacted by the removal of wisdom teeth? Is she a tooth model? Does she test gobstoppers for a living? Does she make videos that demonstrate how to properly grit your teeth?
b. If she has a job, in addition to playing incredibly large instruments in public, was this a way to supplement the income?
c. If this was her only job, why couldn't she continue doing this after the surgery. She had picked two instruments that require no input from the mouth. Perhaps if she dabbled in brass instruments or woodwinds, but she seemed to focus on the string instruments.
Alas, I just walked by and headed home.
1. The train I was riding was pretty empty. In my car, probably a full 1/2 to 3/4 of the seats were totally empty. Nevertheless, this one dude decided that he was going to sit next to me. In my view, there are some unwritten rules for dudes. First, even if you know the guy really well, you typically leave an empty seat between you in the theater. Second, talking to another guy while at the urinal is all fine and good, but typically the commode is not a place to chat. Third, generally you only sit next to a stranger on a train if there are no empty seats to choose from. Nevertheless, this guy just plopped down with no explanation. He seemed like a pretty regular guy, young, well dressed no clear signs of retardation.
2. The Navy Yard is close to the Nationals baseball stadium and they share a Metro stop. Yesterday was a game day. As I am proceeding to the escalator I run into a pretty portly fellow who is engaged in some sort of scam. At the moment I ran into him, he was finishing whatever tasty morsel he had ingested moments earlier, so his mouth was full. He has a number of baseball caps, probably about 25 or so, in his arm and he just shoves one at me. I try to wave him off, but he manages to choke down some, but not all, of his food and tells me, that they are giving away the hats. I should have just kept walking, but I didn't really hear him too well because his mouth was still quite full. He swallows again, and probably got 90% of the food down that time. Incidentally, the man must have taken an enormous bite or have a very small throat relative to his mouth size in order to have so much trouble swallowing a mouthful of food. He explains that they are giving away the hats and then gestures to another guy, also with a big stack of hats, and identifies him as a supervisor. He explains that they are giving away the hats but would like to collect money to donate to a women's shelter. I am not a National's fan, and I don't wear baseball caps, so I declined the offer. I tend to believe though that (a) the hats were stolen; and (2) the "women's shelter" was probably not going to see a nickel of whatever they "collected."
3. At the station near my house, people often set up shop playing music for money. Usually it is a saxophone or a drum, sometimes a guitar. However, this was something I was not expecting at all. A woman had set up shop with a full size Cello and a Harp! Just lugging one of those instruments would have taken some doing, but both was extraordinary. It was just her too, so she could only play one instrument at a time. People were not hanging around, so there was no chance that someone would get bored of listening to one instrument and wish that she would switch. The only thing more remarkable would be if someone had somehow lugged in a full size pipe organ out of a church. She also had a sign advertising CDs for sale. There was nothing remarkable about the sign except it made a big point of advertising that the CD that was available was CD #4! Maybe it had just been released that day, by her, and some eager commuter was looking to round out his collection. Or perhaps, she had issued #3 and #5 in large numbers and this was a limited release of #4, but for whatever reason, the main focus of the sign was that it was CD #4. Or at least the main focus of that sign, because she had a second sign that was awesome. This sign provided that she was due to have her wisdom teeth removed and that she would be unable to work for awhile. I really should have asked some questions, because there is so much I wonder about.
a. What type of job is particularly impacted by the removal of wisdom teeth? Is she a tooth model? Does she test gobstoppers for a living? Does she make videos that demonstrate how to properly grit your teeth?
b. If she has a job, in addition to playing incredibly large instruments in public, was this a way to supplement the income?
c. If this was her only job, why couldn't she continue doing this after the surgery. She had picked two instruments that require no input from the mouth. Perhaps if she dabbled in brass instruments or woodwinds, but she seemed to focus on the string instruments.
Alas, I just walked by and headed home.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Combo-Plate
This is a collection of some snippets from camp - not really long enough to stand on their own:
1. The Buckskin Chief: Each of the three camps has a director that runs the entire camp. These directors report to the reservation director. Unlike the Load, who served as Camp Director at Summit Base for an entire summer and somehow was appointed as interim director of Camp Waubeeka, despite having never worked there, I never served as a Camp Director. I did work for one of the best though. He was a Navy Reserve Chief Petty Officer, and a school teacher. He knew how to get things done and ran a tight ship! Because people are spread out over the property, a number of important people are issued 2-way radios. For many people, this is their first time using a radio and there is little to no formal training on how to communicate. However, over time, a sort of semi official policy was developed. If you wanted to get a particular person on the line, the procedure was to say something similar to "Breaker for [whomever you are calling]", the respondent would then say something along the line of "send it" or "go". However, the Chief was a Navy man and knew how to speak on the radio. So he bestowed a moniker on himself, namely the "Buckskin Chief". Additionally, any time you would call him, his response was always "Chief-Aye". He made it very clear that the Chief was related to his Navy service, not any kind of Native American reference. The problem was that his wife, who presumably knew better than most about his Navy Service, decided to call herself the "Buckskin Squaw." This did little to dispel the idea that the Chief moniker was not related to Native Americans. At least nobody referred to themselves as the Redskins!
2. Phil: Phil was the Buckskin Camp Director after the Chief. Like the Chief, he had military experience, but I am not sure how much and what branch. A couple of things about Phil, he was massively overweight and liked to ramble on the radio. The problem was, that he would often get out of breath if he was talking on the radio and walking. I think part of it had to do with enjoying the sound of his own voice so much, but there was always a fear that he was going to pass out during the transmission. Phil also loved using military terminology. I remember when he was discussing two vehicles that were going to take a bunch of junior staff down to Lake George. It was a very simple plan, both vehicles would meet at a certain location and time in order to ensure all staff were transported both ways. To hear Phil describe it, you would think he was planning something on the scale of D-Day. There was talk of "rendevous", "resupplying", vehicles "maneuvering" and so on. Finally, Phil had a single laser like focus that the one thing that we needed to do better as a Scout Camp was to ensure that all vehicles would drive with their headlights on at all times. He talked about this often, as if this would cure all ills. Even better, he had devised a form of sign language to communicate. It was rather simple, if you noticed a vehicle that did not have its headlights on you were to dramatically point to the driver with your index finger and then immediately maneuver your arm so that you were then pointing at your own eyes with your index finger and middle finger. Despite that headlights were to be turned on at all times, Phil developed a similar form of pantomine to indicate that someone's lights were on and you wanted them turned off. This involved again pointing at the driver, then pointing at your eyes, but this time you would finish it all off with a flourish of drawing your index finger across your neck, simulating decapitation. It was hard to judge the success of the program. On one hand, people were driving with their headlights on a lot more often. However, people were still doing crazy things with vehicles, taking them places they shouldn't be and driving too fast, albeit with headlights blasting!
3. Staff Hunt: At Summit Base, once the day was done, you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted as there were no campers that stayed overnight. Buckskin was a different story, they were a 24 hour operation and most evenings there was an activity planned for the campers. The big one was something called the staff hunt. Really it was just hide and seek on a grand scale, but staff hunt sounded better. The idea is that staff would be given 30-45 minutes to go hide and each one would be given a slip with a number of points on it. The campers would then see how many they could find and whichever troop got the most points was the defacto winner. The other bonus was that if you found the staff member you escorted them to the waterfront and pushed them off the dock. What was interesting is the various levels of enthusiasm and effort that the staff put in. Some were pretty apathetic and would hide in plain sight. Others would simply cheat and go hide in their tents which were off limits. Some people made a pretty good faith effort to hide, but others went totally overboard. Like lying prone in a swamp. Covered with mud up to the eyeballs and getting stung mercilessly by mosquitos and breathing through an improvises snorkel. Others would rig a series of ropes and slings to hide far up in a tree. Those who were good at hiding had to stay in these positions for a couple of hours, until the hunt was over. It also encouraged the Scouts to take some pretty big risks looking for these staff members, climbing dangerously high in trees or traipsing through swamps. Amazingly, no-one got hurt.
4. Gordy: Gordy was an adult leader who accompanied his troop each summer to camp. Unlike most adult leaders, Gordy did not have a child in the scouting program. Gordy was pretty similar to Lenny in "Of Mice and Men" a gentle giant who likely had some learning issues. He was one of the nicest guys you will ever meet though. His build was similar to Andre the Giant, incredibly strong. One feat of strength I witnessed, one I only heard about second hand. We were constantly pulling pranks at camp. While we styled them as pranks, some would definitely not fly in the real world. One such prank involved me, Gordy, perhaps one other person, and a VW Golf hatchback. There was a small grassy area where cars were parked and I managed to convince Gordy that it would be funny to turn one of the directors cars 90 degrees so it was sandwiched in perpendicular between two vehicles and would be very difficult to extricate. A VW Golf is a small car, but it is probably close to 2000 pounds. Nevertheless, we gave it a try. Amazingly, between the three of us, we were able to lift it and turn it. I am fully convinced that Gordy shouldered 90% of the load. Weebs relayed the other story to me. He was leading a trek and Gordy was on the trek with him. The group was paddling from Long Lake to Tupper, profiled in an earlier post. This trek features a 1.25 miles carry around some rapids on the Raquette River. This carry was chronicled here. So according to the Weebs, there was the usual chaos of the carry with scouts fighting each other over the way to properly carry a canoe and lots of yelling and canoes crashing into the ground. Gordy tried something that had never even occured to me. He decided that he was going to carry two canoes at the same time. Moreover, he figured he would just carry them like a pair of suitcases. Apparently he pulled it off for a few hundred yards. I wish I could have seen it, a guy carrying 70 pounds in each hand, walking along uneven ground. This was far more impressive that carrying a 70 pound dumbbell in each hand, these canoes are 17 feet long and do not have a handle or any place that is convenient for carrying. It would have taken a significant toll on the forearms just to keep them from spinning and bumbing into each other as you tried to carry it. When Weebs told me about it, I had to try it for myself. I didn't try it on a trek, just back at camp. I couldn't even get them off the ground for a second. But then again, I wasn't Gordy.
1. The Buckskin Chief: Each of the three camps has a director that runs the entire camp. These directors report to the reservation director. Unlike the Load, who served as Camp Director at Summit Base for an entire summer and somehow was appointed as interim director of Camp Waubeeka, despite having never worked there, I never served as a Camp Director. I did work for one of the best though. He was a Navy Reserve Chief Petty Officer, and a school teacher. He knew how to get things done and ran a tight ship! Because people are spread out over the property, a number of important people are issued 2-way radios. For many people, this is their first time using a radio and there is little to no formal training on how to communicate. However, over time, a sort of semi official policy was developed. If you wanted to get a particular person on the line, the procedure was to say something similar to "Breaker for [whomever you are calling]", the respondent would then say something along the line of "send it" or "go". However, the Chief was a Navy man and knew how to speak on the radio. So he bestowed a moniker on himself, namely the "Buckskin Chief". Additionally, any time you would call him, his response was always "Chief-Aye". He made it very clear that the Chief was related to his Navy service, not any kind of Native American reference. The problem was that his wife, who presumably knew better than most about his Navy Service, decided to call herself the "Buckskin Squaw." This did little to dispel the idea that the Chief moniker was not related to Native Americans. At least nobody referred to themselves as the Redskins!
2. Phil: Phil was the Buckskin Camp Director after the Chief. Like the Chief, he had military experience, but I am not sure how much and what branch. A couple of things about Phil, he was massively overweight and liked to ramble on the radio. The problem was, that he would often get out of breath if he was talking on the radio and walking. I think part of it had to do with enjoying the sound of his own voice so much, but there was always a fear that he was going to pass out during the transmission. Phil also loved using military terminology. I remember when he was discussing two vehicles that were going to take a bunch of junior staff down to Lake George. It was a very simple plan, both vehicles would meet at a certain location and time in order to ensure all staff were transported both ways. To hear Phil describe it, you would think he was planning something on the scale of D-Day. There was talk of "rendevous", "resupplying", vehicles "maneuvering" and so on. Finally, Phil had a single laser like focus that the one thing that we needed to do better as a Scout Camp was to ensure that all vehicles would drive with their headlights on at all times. He talked about this often, as if this would cure all ills. Even better, he had devised a form of sign language to communicate. It was rather simple, if you noticed a vehicle that did not have its headlights on you were to dramatically point to the driver with your index finger and then immediately maneuver your arm so that you were then pointing at your own eyes with your index finger and middle finger. Despite that headlights were to be turned on at all times, Phil developed a similar form of pantomine to indicate that someone's lights were on and you wanted them turned off. This involved again pointing at the driver, then pointing at your eyes, but this time you would finish it all off with a flourish of drawing your index finger across your neck, simulating decapitation. It was hard to judge the success of the program. On one hand, people were driving with their headlights on a lot more often. However, people were still doing crazy things with vehicles, taking them places they shouldn't be and driving too fast, albeit with headlights blasting!
3. Staff Hunt: At Summit Base, once the day was done, you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted as there were no campers that stayed overnight. Buckskin was a different story, they were a 24 hour operation and most evenings there was an activity planned for the campers. The big one was something called the staff hunt. Really it was just hide and seek on a grand scale, but staff hunt sounded better. The idea is that staff would be given 30-45 minutes to go hide and each one would be given a slip with a number of points on it. The campers would then see how many they could find and whichever troop got the most points was the defacto winner. The other bonus was that if you found the staff member you escorted them to the waterfront and pushed them off the dock. What was interesting is the various levels of enthusiasm and effort that the staff put in. Some were pretty apathetic and would hide in plain sight. Others would simply cheat and go hide in their tents which were off limits. Some people made a pretty good faith effort to hide, but others went totally overboard. Like lying prone in a swamp. Covered with mud up to the eyeballs and getting stung mercilessly by mosquitos and breathing through an improvises snorkel. Others would rig a series of ropes and slings to hide far up in a tree. Those who were good at hiding had to stay in these positions for a couple of hours, until the hunt was over. It also encouraged the Scouts to take some pretty big risks looking for these staff members, climbing dangerously high in trees or traipsing through swamps. Amazingly, no-one got hurt.
4. Gordy: Gordy was an adult leader who accompanied his troop each summer to camp. Unlike most adult leaders, Gordy did not have a child in the scouting program. Gordy was pretty similar to Lenny in "Of Mice and Men" a gentle giant who likely had some learning issues. He was one of the nicest guys you will ever meet though. His build was similar to Andre the Giant, incredibly strong. One feat of strength I witnessed, one I only heard about second hand. We were constantly pulling pranks at camp. While we styled them as pranks, some would definitely not fly in the real world. One such prank involved me, Gordy, perhaps one other person, and a VW Golf hatchback. There was a small grassy area where cars were parked and I managed to convince Gordy that it would be funny to turn one of the directors cars 90 degrees so it was sandwiched in perpendicular between two vehicles and would be very difficult to extricate. A VW Golf is a small car, but it is probably close to 2000 pounds. Nevertheless, we gave it a try. Amazingly, between the three of us, we were able to lift it and turn it. I am fully convinced that Gordy shouldered 90% of the load. Weebs relayed the other story to me. He was leading a trek and Gordy was on the trek with him. The group was paddling from Long Lake to Tupper, profiled in an earlier post. This trek features a 1.25 miles carry around some rapids on the Raquette River. This carry was chronicled here. So according to the Weebs, there was the usual chaos of the carry with scouts fighting each other over the way to properly carry a canoe and lots of yelling and canoes crashing into the ground. Gordy tried something that had never even occured to me. He decided that he was going to carry two canoes at the same time. Moreover, he figured he would just carry them like a pair of suitcases. Apparently he pulled it off for a few hundred yards. I wish I could have seen it, a guy carrying 70 pounds in each hand, walking along uneven ground. This was far more impressive that carrying a 70 pound dumbbell in each hand, these canoes are 17 feet long and do not have a handle or any place that is convenient for carrying. It would have taken a significant toll on the forearms just to keep them from spinning and bumbing into each other as you tried to carry it. When Weebs told me about it, I had to try it for myself. I didn't try it on a trek, just back at camp. I couldn't even get them off the ground for a second. But then again, I wasn't Gordy.
Monday, September 15, 2014
The endless cycle
Our new home in VA is close to a number of bike paths. Although we haven't been here that long, I have spent enough time on the path to notice a number of different characters:
1. You get the guys who decide that on a beautiful weekend day, when the trail is at its busiest, they are going to cycle like they are training for the Tour De France. These guys have incredibly fancy bikes and very fancy cycling gear. I bet they paid more for their super trendy matching jerseys and shorts than I did for my entire bike. These guys just like to bomb up and down the trail, constantly screaming "On your left" as they pass someone. They also are very impatient at cross streets playing chicken with on coming traffic. Frequently seen at bike shops complaining that their rig must not be optimized because they are not as fast as they would like to be.
2. The old dudes who could care less about society's rules. It is not only cyclists who use the path, but also walkers, joggers and apparently even horseback riders (although I have yet to see anyone on horseback, there are all sorts of signs that provide that all traffic must yield to horse traffic). Last weekend I was on a quick jaunt and noticed these two old guys, dressed for a crisp autumn day even though it was nearly 90 degrees, and just walking slowly down the very middle of the path. Generally everyone keeps to the right, except to pass, but these guys were right smack in the middle and could care less. Even better, if someone said anything to them, they just ignored it. I imagine these are the type of old guys that probably smoke in hospitals and around babies!
3. The posers. In many ways, these people are very similar to those in category number 1, they have equally fancy equipment. However, they don't ride that much, and are consequently very slow. I passed someone in this super nice racing set up on my mountain bike. Even more amazing, I was on the gravel path and they were on asphalt. He was far better dressed than me though. These are also the type of people who put on their biking gear to go to the bike shop. Even if they drive there. Sort of like getting dressed up for an event I guess. The last time I was in the bike store I was one of the few people there who was not in cycling gear. I was also one of the few people that had rode to the store instead of driving!
4. Trail police. These guys are in no way affiliated with a legitimate police organization. They are regular guys who feel that it is perfectly OK to boss other people around. For instance, this morning when I started my ride, it was quite dark and I had to use a light on my bike. The trail is pretty empty early in the morning, but not deserted. Most of the time when you are approaching a rider coming the opposite way, you try to cover your light with your hand so to avoid blinding them. So I come around a corner and encounter another bike, he covers his light and just as I am about to cover mine he yells out "Dim your fucking light"! Naturally, I took a bit longer to dim it. The funniest part about the whole thing was that my light is not particularly bright. Also, people are usually nicer on the trail than they are in typical society - for instance you may say good morning to someone as you pass on the trail. If you do this on most streets as a pedestrian people will think you are a lunatic if you engage in any kind of pleasantries. Also, generally when you are exercising you feel pretty good and don't have much stress. So this guy deciding that my light dimming was not fast enough and losing his shit over it leads me to believe that he is a pretty volatile individual. The kind of guy who if he has a few cups of coffee in him might kick you in the balls and chew on your ears if you sent him a memo with a typo in it.
I am sure there will be some more encounters to come. If I owned a horse and commuting to work via a horse were an option, I would definitely do it. If only to tie my horse up outside my office like it is a saloon out of the Wild West.
1. You get the guys who decide that on a beautiful weekend day, when the trail is at its busiest, they are going to cycle like they are training for the Tour De France. These guys have incredibly fancy bikes and very fancy cycling gear. I bet they paid more for their super trendy matching jerseys and shorts than I did for my entire bike. These guys just like to bomb up and down the trail, constantly screaming "On your left" as they pass someone. They also are very impatient at cross streets playing chicken with on coming traffic. Frequently seen at bike shops complaining that their rig must not be optimized because they are not as fast as they would like to be.
2. The old dudes who could care less about society's rules. It is not only cyclists who use the path, but also walkers, joggers and apparently even horseback riders (although I have yet to see anyone on horseback, there are all sorts of signs that provide that all traffic must yield to horse traffic). Last weekend I was on a quick jaunt and noticed these two old guys, dressed for a crisp autumn day even though it was nearly 90 degrees, and just walking slowly down the very middle of the path. Generally everyone keeps to the right, except to pass, but these guys were right smack in the middle and could care less. Even better, if someone said anything to them, they just ignored it. I imagine these are the type of old guys that probably smoke in hospitals and around babies!
3. The posers. In many ways, these people are very similar to those in category number 1, they have equally fancy equipment. However, they don't ride that much, and are consequently very slow. I passed someone in this super nice racing set up on my mountain bike. Even more amazing, I was on the gravel path and they were on asphalt. He was far better dressed than me though. These are also the type of people who put on their biking gear to go to the bike shop. Even if they drive there. Sort of like getting dressed up for an event I guess. The last time I was in the bike store I was one of the few people there who was not in cycling gear. I was also one of the few people that had rode to the store instead of driving!
4. Trail police. These guys are in no way affiliated with a legitimate police organization. They are regular guys who feel that it is perfectly OK to boss other people around. For instance, this morning when I started my ride, it was quite dark and I had to use a light on my bike. The trail is pretty empty early in the morning, but not deserted. Most of the time when you are approaching a rider coming the opposite way, you try to cover your light with your hand so to avoid blinding them. So I come around a corner and encounter another bike, he covers his light and just as I am about to cover mine he yells out "Dim your fucking light"! Naturally, I took a bit longer to dim it. The funniest part about the whole thing was that my light is not particularly bright. Also, people are usually nicer on the trail than they are in typical society - for instance you may say good morning to someone as you pass on the trail. If you do this on most streets as a pedestrian people will think you are a lunatic if you engage in any kind of pleasantries. Also, generally when you are exercising you feel pretty good and don't have much stress. So this guy deciding that my light dimming was not fast enough and losing his shit over it leads me to believe that he is a pretty volatile individual. The kind of guy who if he has a few cups of coffee in him might kick you in the balls and chew on your ears if you sent him a memo with a typo in it.
I am sure there will be some more encounters to come. If I owned a horse and commuting to work via a horse were an option, I would definitely do it. If only to tie my horse up outside my office like it is a saloon out of the Wild West.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Going all Tolkein
I don't remember exactly how we decided that Jane came from the Middle Earth. Jane worked at camp a few summers and was quite the character. She had probably the palest complexion you can imagine and very red hair. She was on the short and stout side. In fact, one person nick named her "Tank". Perhaps it was because of the short stature and stout build that we decided that she was similar in appearance to a dwarf. So it began, it started out pretty innocently as these things tend to, with an off-hand remark here and there. It quickly progressed though.
The Weebs and I would have long, inane, but hilarious to us discussions about how she had to have a stout build and small hands to make her way through the various tunnels and lairs in her native land. Jane was incredibly good natured about it, which I think added to the fun. It was just such an absurd thing to say to someone that you really could not get offended by it. Sort of like if you joked around that someone was able to see in infrared! We naturally assumed that Jane had to be very good at fighting because she must certainly come across angry badgers and other burrowing creatures. Similarly, we assumed that she did not need a flashlight at night because she could almost certainly find her way in the dark. Finally, her incredibly pale complexion had to be due to her not spending much time above ground.
The problem was, both Weebs and I were only vaguely familiar with the writings of Tolkein. I mistakenly believed that Middle Earth must be underground. Of course that wasn't true, but nobody ever bothered to correct us, probably because the whole idea was absurd. The highlight came when we decided that we wanted Jane to take us down to Middle Earth. The office area in the camp sort of doubled as a staff lounge and there was a large corner unit couch. Right where the corner met the wall, there was a gap. A gap that was just a little too big for Jane to fit through. Nevertheless, Weebs and I hoisted her up and inserted her head first into the gap demanding that she lead us on a tour underground. She went through about 1/2 way, her waist and legs were visible, albeit upside down. If you were to come across this scene with no context, all you would see is a couple of legs thrashing about in the air with two guys demanding that entry to the underground kingdom. Even with context, it didn't make any more sense. Jane took it all in stride though.
The Weebs and I would have long, inane, but hilarious to us discussions about how she had to have a stout build and small hands to make her way through the various tunnels and lairs in her native land. Jane was incredibly good natured about it, which I think added to the fun. It was just such an absurd thing to say to someone that you really could not get offended by it. Sort of like if you joked around that someone was able to see in infrared! We naturally assumed that Jane had to be very good at fighting because she must certainly come across angry badgers and other burrowing creatures. Similarly, we assumed that she did not need a flashlight at night because she could almost certainly find her way in the dark. Finally, her incredibly pale complexion had to be due to her not spending much time above ground.
The problem was, both Weebs and I were only vaguely familiar with the writings of Tolkein. I mistakenly believed that Middle Earth must be underground. Of course that wasn't true, but nobody ever bothered to correct us, probably because the whole idea was absurd. The highlight came when we decided that we wanted Jane to take us down to Middle Earth. The office area in the camp sort of doubled as a staff lounge and there was a large corner unit couch. Right where the corner met the wall, there was a gap. A gap that was just a little too big for Jane to fit through. Nevertheless, Weebs and I hoisted her up and inserted her head first into the gap demanding that she lead us on a tour underground. She went through about 1/2 way, her waist and legs were visible, albeit upside down. If you were to come across this scene with no context, all you would see is a couple of legs thrashing about in the air with two guys demanding that entry to the underground kingdom. Even with context, it didn't make any more sense. Jane took it all in stride though.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
The U-Haul Scam
I my experience, if you are looking to rent a moving truck your basic options are U-Haul, Ryder and Penske. For whatever reason, most of the time I have used U-Haul. It seems that they have the most locations. It seems most U-haul stores are set up the same way, there are seemingly endless supplies of boxes, tape, bubble wrap and other assorted supplies. It appears that U-haul has now got into the habit of subcontracting out moving help as well, with advertisements indicating that they can help you hire people on either end of the move. Curiously, the last U-haul I went to had a number of warning signs that provided that people should avoid hiring day laborers because of the danger to the home-owner. What kind of crock of shit is this? Does U-haul contend that all of the individuals that they recommend have been thoroughly vetted? Of course not, but there is the warning all the same. Further, are day laborers inherently bad people, definitely not. My only experience with day laborers was when I was young (12 or 13) my sister and I went to this big housing development that catered to Senior Citizens after a snowstorm. You were paid something like $6 an hour to shovel out all the sidewalks and areas where the trucks could not get. It was hard work, particularly on this day because the temperature was right around freezing and the snow was wet and heavy. Once we got to the main assembly area we were put on buses and shipped out to various locations. My sister and I were paired with a couple of mexican workers. They were the nicest guys, even though they spoke no English, they helped us out. They were also incredible workers. I had to call it quits after a few hours, but these guys, seemingly fueled on a diet of caffeine and nicotine were unstoppable! Too bad the day laborers cannot form a class action lawsuit based on defamation.
The other business idea that U-haul seems to be exploring is to try to scare you into buying over-priced insurance. At the checkout counter there are large posters that indicate that your auto insurance and credit card will almost certainly not cover damage to the equipment, and you should buy their insurance. Of course, the insurance is listed as priced per day, so $15 a day doesn't seem that much until you realize that it is close to $5,000 per year! They then list the replacement value of all the equipment and it is shockingly high. After you see what they value their equipment at you expect that when you walk onto the yard you will see a glistening fleet of trucks and other equipment. Instead, it seems more like where trucks go to die. Most of these trucks were probably rolling when Regan was in office! Provided that it will move, there is no problem if there is a huge dent or other issue. During the walk through you see into the scam. The guy doing the check out will walk right past the human sized dent or lovely graffiti and do a half assed assesment of the vehicle and send you on your way. Yet, it appears that business is thriving.
When we were moving from Chicago to Washington D.C., we chose to rent a tow dolly so that we could all drive in one car. The tow dolly is a pretty simple affair, the front two wheels of the car being towed are attached to the dolly while the rear wheels ride along the road. U-haul estimated this fine piece of machinery at $8,000. From the outset, it was a shit-show. First, I showed up right when the store was supposed to be open, but it appeared deserted. Interestingly, the door to the office was open, but it was completely empty. I easily could have stolen miles and miles of bubble wrap, but chose to wait, and wait. Finally, half an hour later the manager walked in, and was very surprised to see me in there. Apparently they had left the door open overnight. I explained that I had a reservation and after 5 minutes he informed me that the system was down, but he expected it would be up soon. He told me that I could get hooked up to the trailer and wait in my car until he had it fixed. I was a bit frustrated, but we had to be on the road that morning and it would take awhile to make a reservation with another company. After about 10 minutes, he called me in only to realize that the computer was still not operating. He tried calling customer service, but was not getting anywhere. He asked me to give it a call, and I was able to get through almost immediately, however, the corporate office only confirmed that the computer was still down. I began researching other options and asked the guy behind the counter where the nearest non-uhaul location was. He took great offense at this, wondering why I would possibly want to go with another company! At any rate, this spurred him into action. He went rustling around in the back and came back with this old school paper contract. The type of thing where you have to push the pen really hard to make three copies, one white, one yellow and one pink. Regardless, I was finally on my way.
We got the car all set up, and were on our way. After about 30 minutes, I pulled over just to make sure everything was working fine. It was then that I realized that one of the fenders on the towing dolly was severely bent. There was also a huge gash in the fender. In all the hooplah of the morning I had not realized this. My concern what that it looked like the fender may rub against the tire and cause a flat. I called up the manager and he indicated that the previous renter had caused some damage, but, and this is a direct quote "The previous renter didn't think it would cause any real problems, and we have to go off what the renters tell us." That is a hell of a process right there. Because, I think we can all agree that the person who is responsible for any repairs will certainly volunteer the full extent of any damage. He told me I was welcome to try my hand at fixing it, or I could call a 1-800 number, but it would probably take a long time since it was the weekend. I decided I wasn't going to hang around the side of the road waiting.
We got lucky, everything worked as well as it should have and we made it to DC with little issue. Returning the trailer was equally painless. I drove it into the yard, a guy disconnected it, and told me that I was all set. He either ignored the damage or didn't care, possibly both. However, I was a bit wary, particularly given that I was travelling under an antiquated contract. It took the staff on the other end a long time to get it all sorted out, but eventually I truly was accounted for. I firmly believe that I could have held on to that dolly for the rest of my life and never faced any repurcussions for it. However, I doubt it was worth the lofty $8,000 that U-haul assigned it!
The other business idea that U-haul seems to be exploring is to try to scare you into buying over-priced insurance. At the checkout counter there are large posters that indicate that your auto insurance and credit card will almost certainly not cover damage to the equipment, and you should buy their insurance. Of course, the insurance is listed as priced per day, so $15 a day doesn't seem that much until you realize that it is close to $5,000 per year! They then list the replacement value of all the equipment and it is shockingly high. After you see what they value their equipment at you expect that when you walk onto the yard you will see a glistening fleet of trucks and other equipment. Instead, it seems more like where trucks go to die. Most of these trucks were probably rolling when Regan was in office! Provided that it will move, there is no problem if there is a huge dent or other issue. During the walk through you see into the scam. The guy doing the check out will walk right past the human sized dent or lovely graffiti and do a half assed assesment of the vehicle and send you on your way. Yet, it appears that business is thriving.
When we were moving from Chicago to Washington D.C., we chose to rent a tow dolly so that we could all drive in one car. The tow dolly is a pretty simple affair, the front two wheels of the car being towed are attached to the dolly while the rear wheels ride along the road. U-haul estimated this fine piece of machinery at $8,000. From the outset, it was a shit-show. First, I showed up right when the store was supposed to be open, but it appeared deserted. Interestingly, the door to the office was open, but it was completely empty. I easily could have stolen miles and miles of bubble wrap, but chose to wait, and wait. Finally, half an hour later the manager walked in, and was very surprised to see me in there. Apparently they had left the door open overnight. I explained that I had a reservation and after 5 minutes he informed me that the system was down, but he expected it would be up soon. He told me that I could get hooked up to the trailer and wait in my car until he had it fixed. I was a bit frustrated, but we had to be on the road that morning and it would take awhile to make a reservation with another company. After about 10 minutes, he called me in only to realize that the computer was still not operating. He tried calling customer service, but was not getting anywhere. He asked me to give it a call, and I was able to get through almost immediately, however, the corporate office only confirmed that the computer was still down. I began researching other options and asked the guy behind the counter where the nearest non-uhaul location was. He took great offense at this, wondering why I would possibly want to go with another company! At any rate, this spurred him into action. He went rustling around in the back and came back with this old school paper contract. The type of thing where you have to push the pen really hard to make three copies, one white, one yellow and one pink. Regardless, I was finally on my way.
We got the car all set up, and were on our way. After about 30 minutes, I pulled over just to make sure everything was working fine. It was then that I realized that one of the fenders on the towing dolly was severely bent. There was also a huge gash in the fender. In all the hooplah of the morning I had not realized this. My concern what that it looked like the fender may rub against the tire and cause a flat. I called up the manager and he indicated that the previous renter had caused some damage, but, and this is a direct quote "The previous renter didn't think it would cause any real problems, and we have to go off what the renters tell us." That is a hell of a process right there. Because, I think we can all agree that the person who is responsible for any repairs will certainly volunteer the full extent of any damage. He told me I was welcome to try my hand at fixing it, or I could call a 1-800 number, but it would probably take a long time since it was the weekend. I decided I wasn't going to hang around the side of the road waiting.
We got lucky, everything worked as well as it should have and we made it to DC with little issue. Returning the trailer was equally painless. I drove it into the yard, a guy disconnected it, and told me that I was all set. He either ignored the damage or didn't care, possibly both. However, I was a bit wary, particularly given that I was travelling under an antiquated contract. It took the staff on the other end a long time to get it all sorted out, but eventually I truly was accounted for. I firmly believe that I could have held on to that dolly for the rest of my life and never faced any repurcussions for it. However, I doubt it was worth the lofty $8,000 that U-haul assigned it!
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Multi-Tasking
It was extremely hot in the DC area yesterday. Our new housing area has a pool and it was lovely to cool off there. Then the thunder came and we had to leave the pool. Often, after a thunderstorm it cools down, but not after this one. It just made it steamy and even more uncomfortable. So, I decided to go to the grocery store to get some cool drinks. Everything went smoothly until it was time to check out. There was only one person ahead of me. He was likely in his late 40s early 50s, and appeared hispanic. He was almost done. Almost. All his items had been rung up, he knew what the total was and he had elected to pay by credit card. All he had to do was slide his card. He already had the card postioned at the reader. The problem was that his cell phone rang, and he answered it. This was the limit of his mental power apparently. He was discussing the merits of what brand of milk to buy, and he could not slide his card. He just stood there, with his mouth half open and his card tantalizingly close to the reader. Every so often, he would pause during his discussions of paseteurization and homogenization and glance down at the card reader, but that was it. Just a glance, he couldn't actually go forward with the transaction. This went on for probably 3-4 minutes, but it was infuriating because he was wasting my time, the cashier's time and the bagger's time. We all stared at him in disbelief.
Perhaps it was because I was hot and tired, or perhaps because this guy was both a moron and incredibly rude, but I actually said something. I told him to hang up the phone and swipe the damn card, but it didn't have any effect. Fortunately, another register opened and I was able to use that one. When I left the store, he was still just standing there, talking on his phone, card still held up, slack jawed and on the phone.
Perhaps it was because I was hot and tired, or perhaps because this guy was both a moron and incredibly rude, but I actually said something. I told him to hang up the phone and swipe the damn card, but it didn't have any effect. Fortunately, another register opened and I was able to use that one. When I left the store, he was still just standing there, talking on his phone, card still held up, slack jawed and on the phone.
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