Entry 253: Checklist Charlie

Time to hit a bunch of random topics from my blog checklist -- Checklist Charlie, as I like to call it.

----------------------
I realized today how physically dependent I am on my morning cup o' joe.  Lil' S had a doctor's appointment at nine this morning, and I was rushing to get out of the house and didn't have time for any coffee.  During his examination I started to get groggy and irritable from caffeine withdrawal.  Once I got some coffee in me, I was totally fine (i.e., just normal tired -- caffeine doesn't make my two-year old go away).  Over the past year or so I've basically cut in half the amount of coffee I drink a day, from four cups to two cups -- and those are actual measuring cupfuls, not giant mugfuls.  Two cups is about one medium-sized mugful, which seems reasonable.  I would give up coffee altogether, except for one fact: coffee is awesome and I love drinking it.

----------------------
I was walking the other day, and as will frequently happen while walking in DC, in the span of a few minutes I went from a relatively poor neighborhood to a relatively affluent one.  Two contrasting things jumped out at me: 1)  Poor neighborhoods have way more trash on the ground, 2) In poor neighborhoods people often don't use crosswalks, even when accompanying children on busy streets; in affluent neighborhoods, they usually do.  I'm not sure why this is.  I understand some things in poor neighborhoods obviously won't be as "nice" because of lack of resources, and because, by and large, we treat the poor like shit in this country (hey, if they weren't so lazy, they wouldn't be poor!).  But it doesn't cost anything to put trash in a trashcan or to use a crosswalk.  Plus, it's not like you're sticking it to the man by doing these things.  You have to live in your own filthy neighborhood, and you're the one who is going to get run over if a driver gets a text at the wrong time.

----------------------

Speaking of doing things that will only hurt yourself, my wife and I have an on-going "struggle" over her taking simple suggestions as personal attacks (my view) or me being a condescending know-it-all (her view).  Since I'm me, and this is my blog, I shall give an example supporting my side of things.  Today she said that she was going to go to the post office, and we had the following exchange:

Me:  The post office on a Saturday?  Yikes!  I wouldn't do that.  It's going to be a zoo.
Her [getting irritated]: I have to mail something, when else should I go?
Me: I'd go during the week, during normal working hours.
Her [irritated]: I can't do that, I have to work.
Me: You can't take a twenty-minute break on Monday?  There must be a post office within walking distance of your office.
Her [very irritated]: That's really hard for me!  Plus I just want to get it done today!
Me: Why are you getting so upset and defensive?  I'm just trying to help.  You're the one who is going to be stuck at the post office, not me.

To her credit, she apologized ... this time.  I have plenty of other examples of this type of thing.  But if I relay too many of them on a public blog, then she really will have a legitimate reason to be upset.

----------------------
I've nearly perfected the art of boiling an egg.  Here's what you do: bring water to a vigorous boil; put in the egg and leave it on high for four minutes; turn off the burner, cover the pot, and let the egg stew for 21 more minutes; if you are planning on eating the egg immediately, submerse it in an ice bath for at least ten minutes, otherwise put it in the refrigerator.  With these instructions, you will get a perfect hard-boiled egg: firm and easy to peel, with a fully cooked but still golden yolk.  The only thing worse than a gooey yolk is a chalky, overdone, gray yolk.  By following my instructions you can ensure you get neither.

----------------------

If somebody was to look through my Internet search history, they would be utterly confused.  Half the things I look up aren't actual things; they are random strings of characters that I'm hoping are things (but they probably aren't) so I can use them in a crossword puzzle.  For example, in making a puzzle I might find myself in a spot where everything would work out if DAGE is an acceptable entry.  The first thing I do is check the puzzle databases to see if it has ever been used in a puzzle before.  If it hasn't, then I do a Goggle search to see if it's something "crossworthy".  It almost never is -- my search usually turns up a bunch of random mumbo-jumbo.  But every now and then I get lucky, and it is something I can use.  For instance, once I looked up BUHL for a puzzle and was happy to learn that Buhl, Idaho is the "Trout Capital of the World".  It's not a great entry, but it would work in a pinch.

 ----------------------
The title of this entry is an allusion to Checkpoint Charlie.  It is one of those things from my childhood that everybody of my generation remembers, but people born just a decade or so later probably have no idea what it is.  Here are a few other things like that:

• Mikhail Gorbachev's birthmark.  Sadly, I think few people under the age of 30 would get the opening of The Naked Gun.
• Jimmy "The Greek".  As discussed in my previous entry.
• Hulkamania.  It ran wild on you in the late '80s.
• Time capsules.  Google is effectively a time capsule if you want it to be.  There really is no reason to bury a canister in the dirt.
• The USFL and MISL.  Two defunct sports leagues from my childhood that at the time I thought were every bit as big as the NFL, MLB, and NBA.
• Chinese food.  Of course people still eat Chinese food, but back in the day it was the Asian cuisine.  You never saw a Thai or Indian restaurant.  I think my generation is the last to remember Chinese food as something somewhat exotic.
• Toupees. It was always a joke that so-and-so wore a toupee.  Back in the day being bald made you really old or really weird.  Nobody shaved their head as a fashion statement.  In Wrestlemania III, Rowdy Roddy Piper wrestled Adorable Adrian Adonis in a match in which the loser got his head shaved.  This gimmick worked because having a completely shaved head made you look like a freak.  It's really strange to think about it now since half the guys I know have shaved heads.  It's a very common strategy to deal with a receding hair line.  It's like quitting a job before you can get fired.  I really don't care for the shaved-head look -- it feels like a big cop out to me -- which is a shame because I'm probably going to have to adopt it pretty soon.  My hair is quickly thinning up top, and I'm too lazy to try Rogaine.  Well, I guess there is always the Jean-Luc Picard horseshoe look.  It it has to be that way, then make it so.

Until next time ...