The Seatbelt Shot

I have a pair of jeans with pretty tight hip pockets. This story ends with a call to action, so hang in there. I also have a mobile phone which I keep in my pocket most times - I don't have one of those clip things. I've had those belt clips before with 2 other phones, and they both broke. They both broke in the same way, too. Getting into the car. They would somehow catch on the edge of the seat or on the seatbelt buckle as I sat down, and it would snap the clip off. They should make mobile phone belt clips stronger.

I like to call them mobile phones lately, not 'cell phones'. I know that 'cell' is really short for 'cellular', but I don't know what 'cellular' means in relation to the phone. Does it mean it's a living, breathing thing? Mobile phone makes much more sense, because the key benefit of mobile phones is that you can take them with you. Well, that's the original key benefit. Now the key benefits of mobile phones are the ability to play music or set your lineup for fantasy football (nerd alert!).

Anyway, I was driving the other day and my phone was really uncomfortable in my tight hip pockets, and I wanted to get it out. Actually, I can't say if the phone itself was experiencing any discomfort, but my hip certainly was. But due to the tightness of the jeans and the lap portion of the seatbelt, I couldn't get it out. So at the next stop light, I unbuckled quick and pulled the mobile phone out.

The light turned green, and I quick shoved the phone into the cup holder and resumed driving. I'm a left handed driver, by which I mean I steer 95% of the time with only my left hand. I grew up driving stick shifts, so my right hand was often shifting gears and I was 'left' with only one hand free to steer. (I apologize for that horrible use of single quotation marks.) Also, steering with both hands is something only done by driving instructors, and driving students.

Needless to say, I needed to buckle up again. And this is when the cool thing happened. The cool thing happened, and I'm sure it has happened many times before, but for some reason I thought about how cool it was this time. I'm steering with my left hand, and my right hand reaches under the left arm, grabs the seatbelt, and in one swift motion, my eyes up on the road ahead, shoots the seat belt directly into the buckle. CLICK.

"Big deal", right? But think about it. Seatbelt buckles are generally perched on the end of a semi-rigid piece of plastic, or sometimes just on thick vinyl material. The flat part on the belt-portion of the buckle obviously must go squarely into the buckle. How do we do this without even looking, much less in a quick one-shot pull? Think of the spatial variance between where the belt is mounted and where the buckle happens to be angled that day. What if your hand bumps your hip on the way down? Even worse, what if you smash your hand into the buckle and pitch the fat part of your hand into the buckle? Now stop thinking about those things, and go take a drive. And unbuckle your seatbelt at a traffic light. Then, because you instinctively fear being unbuckled in your vehicle for even one second because of the Click It or Ticket campaign, go for it:

The Seatbelt Shot

A moral lesson from the can

WARNING: This post contains material of an awkward subject. I would encourage you not to form visual images of me. But since I just said that, I know you will. So enjoy that.

Most public men's rooms have a particular stall layout - one or several skinny, minimum space stalls whose doors open inward, and then one larger wheelchair-accessible (W.A.) stall whose door opens outward. Generally, the W.A. stall is furthest from the door, tucked in a corner. Dudes can be weird about using stalls. Some prefer space and comfort in order to properly relax while some prefer a sort of quiet anonymity, dreading that some other man may be aware that they, too, endure working bodily functions. The W.A. stall can satisfy both preferences, at times.

I was guilty of using the roomier, corner-located W.A. stall at work sometimes, for whatever reason. Regardless, it struck me recently that it would be rude and potentially disastrous if I was occupying said stall at a time when someone who truly needed the clearance and support rail entered the bathroom. This seemingly obvious scenario made its rude entry into my mind while I was using the stand up potty, and a gentleman in our office came in with a walker and two braces on his feet. I knew this man from around the office, but was not aware of his situation on a personal level. Needless to say, I swore a silent oath that I would never use the handicapped stall on this floor, in this building, ever again. It is not for me.

The story doesn't end there. Like I said, I didn't know the man on a personal level. He was gone from the office for quite some time, but I didn't notice. One day, I was playing the bowling video game on my phone (that's what I do when I'm toilet bound), and I hear the men's room door open. Normally, that is followed by footsteps and the familiar sounds of relief, flushing, washing, the auto-towel motor, and annoying small talk about how weird the last employee meeting was. This time, there were no footsteps... but I did see a wheelchair's wheel roll by under the door of my narrow stall. Later that day, I see the man in the wheelchair, and it was that man who previously had two braces on his feet. Now he only had one brace on his feet, primarily because he only had one remaining foot! I find out that the infections that were causing his foot pain and problems had gotten so bad, that amputation was the only remedy.

Thank goodness for the startling epiphany I experienced weeks earlier. Imagine the discourtesy I would have done by occupying the one and only wheelchair accessible stall, that very day, in that very place, denying a man who recently lost his foot the access he needed! Before you judge my description and discussion of the man's unfortunate situation, realize that he had the grace and humor with his new found structure to show up for a pirate-themed employee meeting (see what I mean?) wearing an upside down plunger that was painted black and duct-taped to his knee as a peg leg! AWESOME.

The lesson here is that certain things are in place for a reason. People who need a little extra room, a little closer space, a lift, a support bar, whatever - they really need it! And some of us have strange, selfish agendas (like video bowling with more elbow room) that need to be sacrificed for the good of mankind. Bottom line: Don't park in their spaces, and don't s#!t in their stalls.

It says 'sit'- my keyboard had a malfunction...

Look who's 30, too

Yep, that's right. My 30th birthday is here, and I've begun my 4th decade on earth. Upon waking up this morning, I immediately suffered vision deterioration, "the arthritis" in my hands, and left a pile of hairs on my pillow - hooray aging! To celebrate, I changed some things on my blog. Added a few 'gadgets' along the right side (including Follower - if you're hip to the feature, please show me some love). I also added a Dictionary.com gadget to the bottom (in case you have trouble with any of my big words - ha ha). But seriously, I love Dictionary.com.

Annie is taking me to Spencer's tonight, a fabulous steakhouse in town. I'll be wearing some new big boy clothes she bought me at a mall-based clothing store featuring pictures of men wearing jeans cut for teenage girls. But she didn't buy me those jeans, just some super-sweet pants (PANTS!) and a shirt & tie or two. Tomorrow, I celebrate a little more (I hope) with a Michigan beatdown of Notre Dame followed by a little Utah family party.

Today, my work friends got me a card and some delicious cake, and I got myself a plastic fork, and then I ate the cake (NOM-NOM).

Other good news: My Dad is in fine form after some old-guy surgery, and our family is grateful for all the kind words, prayers, and support. And Happy Birthday to my Mom on Sunday!

Adventure of the Seas

Some pics and short narration of the HONEYMOON

Thankfully, not Ohio

I returned to work this week with mild anxiety about how the Ute fans would shower me with mockery and the sort of glib self-satisfaction that only surfaces for really important life events, like college football. But I quickly realized something: Utah is not Ohio.

Let me explain.

Were the Ute fans at the office proud of their win? Yes. Did they leave a not-so-subtle reminder on my desk before I even arrived at the office Monday? Yes. But here's the thing: They're generally nice people. They really can't be mean about 'their' win over 'my' team. They value other things in life more than football, like Ski Swaps and really good moisturizer. I even hung out with a few Ute fans after the game, and they were like "tough game, man it was really close, Utah is a really good team, Michigan would have beaten them if they played later in the year"... They were trying to make me feel better!? Who does that? Not Ohio.

Let's turn this around. Are Ohioans proud of winning? Like it's their only hope in life. Do Ohioans leave subtle reminders of victory? Subtle like charred living room furniture and effigial figures. They're generally not gracious in victory, and flat out mean in defeat. They value nothing in life more than Buckeye football, not even gun shows or free cigarette day. So thanks, Utah, for going easy on me. And good luck, Michigan, against Miami(Ohio) this week. And don't be fooled - those Miami(Ohio) fans may be alumni or family of players, but you can bet they're Buckeyes in Redhawks clothing, so keep a wary eye.

GO BLUE