Tell us what's happened to you recently (that's interesting)

Everything else
13857

I learned to tie a tie because of church. I wonder what will force kids to learn these days: probably nothing.

In high school, a classmate of mine was getting ready for dinner with his girlfriend’s parents, and was attempting to get dressed nicely, but made a total botch job of the tie. I don’t consciously know how to tie a tie, so much as it’s just muscle memory, so I took it, tied it on myself, loosened it and gave it to him, much as my dad would when I was a little kid.

I recall even at that age thinking: “if you’re old enough that meeting a girl’s parents is a thing, shouldn’t you be able to dress yourself by then?”

13858

The response to this from my experience: “Clip-on.”

We were such a church family. And I went to a Christian school. So ties were a thing in my young life. And they were always the clip-on…because you cannot trust a boy with anything. I lost my shoe in the gutter on the way to school on field trip day in 3rd grade for goodness sake.

It’s hard teaching somebody to tie a tie. I tried teaching my son while facing him, but it was, I don’t know, like figuring out a math problem in a mirror while wearing 3-D glasses. I couldn’t do it.

So I had to do that thing where you get behind him in front of the mirror and do it that way, using your arms as if they were his. Luckily this was when he was shorter than I am. Good thing I did it then. I’ll need a chair the next time if he forgot how to do it.

-xtien

13859

I learned to tie a tie from my dad for attending weddings and other formal get-togethers where a suit was expected. In university, interviewing for co-op positions, ti was handy skill that apparently my room-mate never learned. I tied it once for him. He then carefully loosened it without untying so he could put it back on. He went through all his interviews doing this and didn’t bother learning to tie it himself.

For my wedding, I learned to tie a bow-tie. I got some instruction from the men’s shop where I bought it, and I received a pamphlet with illustrated steps as a memory aid. I was nearly late for my own wedding as a result of trying to tie the bow-tie.

13860

Please do! I am working with my son on his shaving skills. Given I am awful at it, its pretty much the blind leading the blind :)

We had to wear a tie for middle & high school so I learnt that as a kid.

13861

Pretty much every school I went to required a tie. Even primary school (=elementary , sort of) .

13862

So it seems that we are a Nielsen Family.

I never answer the door. It’s usually Witnesses or Mormons. Or someone trying to get me to switch something to something else. This time I thought it was the wife forgetting her keys. Nope it was some other cute lady, from Nielsen.

Cool. We now represent 30,000 people in our area. Poor fools.

Edit: Don’t tell anyone, it’s supposed to be a secret.

13863

With great power, comes great responsibility. Can you make sure to watch Trial & Error this summer for me? ;)

13864

My microwave died today. Just won’t turn on any more. It’s only twenty years old, what a cheap piece of junk. :)

I suppose I could try fixing it, but it’s low wattage and not very large. I’ve been thinking I need a new one anyway for a while now. Good time to upgrade.

13865

Recently got this one. Lots of new features, powerful. My old one was about the same age as yours, it still worked, just killed my Wifi. This one does not.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01DEWZWGC/ref=oh_aui_detailpage_o05_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

Thanks Discourse, well done.

13866

So I’m in the process of relocating to Portland. And the last week, month really, has been ‘interesting’. Perhaps mind numbingly stressful and panic inducing might be a more apt descriptor.

Anyhow a brief tale, a tale of Wyoming, cars, and Sundays.

So as a result of circumstances I found myself leaving Saturday morning to drive from Chicago to Portland. Saturday was uneventful. I made it almost exactly 1000 Miles, then called it a night just across the Wyoming/ Nebraska border.

Got up the next morning and started driving. Very early on a chattering noise started, and quickly progressed into something loud and undeniably Not Good ™. Well I had only made a short distance, so was by Cheyanne. Which is the last, and nearly only, spot of civilization in the state.

Well what do you know but LITERALLY ZERO repair shops in Cheyanne are open on Sunday. I’m driving another 1200 miles, mostly through the mountains, and not a spot of civilization for 500 miles until I hit Salt Lake. No, no, oh hell no. I can’t leave Cheyanne. It would be potentially deadly foolishness to do so.

Well I went to a few shops listed as 24 hours, no dice. Advanced Auto Parts is literally my only option. If I can’t figure the problem, they don’t have the part, and I can’t do it myself I’m stranded until 9am Monday. I’m not making Portland by 9am arrival at work.

Well let’s do this.

Driver tire off. No obvious issue. I’m thinking a caliper or bearing, given the testing I did (engine off, rolling forward, going backward, neutral movement, etc). I know it’s not the engine, thank god, but if it’s a bearing, I’m sunk. Honda Insights have press in bearings. Taking time and special tools I do not have access too.

Did I mention that with everyone on the cell plan being traveling most of the month I have no cell data at this point? Yeah, that is a thing too.

At this point the panic is real. Keep calm, but it’s not looking good. I pop off the passenger tire and…

The caliper is flapping in the breeze. One bolt missing completely, the other a few hand cranks to take out.

I can fix that.

Superficial marks on the inner tire and caliper, but everything else seems sound, much more so than if bolt 2 had come out in 100 miles! Order new bolt. Not in stock. But store 15 minutes away has one. They go get it. Goes on, tires back on, and it worked. Problem solved. By now it’s 11, I’m not making Portland today, but I can still make Oregon. Gonna be an early morning, but the plan remains (mostly) intact.

All in all it cost me 3 hours, and $7. I rolled into work at 9:05, after stopping for a shower. 48 hours almost exactly after I left my house in Chicago, 2200 miles, and one nerve wracking unplanned stop.

13867

Great story! It never ever fails that if your car has problems, it will be on a Sunday. Glad you made it to Portland safe!

13868

I freaking love that story, @CraigM. Well done.

This is going to sound totally dumb, but it calls to mind a dopey movie I had to see this week called We’re the Millers. They have an engine problem in their enormous RV because the main dude doesn’t know not to redline the engine. A couple in another RV tows them to a garage, which is closed. The main dude asks if they can go someplace else. “There’s not another repair shop nearby?”

The other guy (played by Nick Offerman), replies, “Run by a Christian and open after 10pm on a Friday night? No sir.”

So your story made me think of that. Pleased to hear you made it there safely.

-xtien

13869

It’s not perfect, but there are several brilliant comedic moments in that film that really had me laughing.
Enough that I actually bought the DVD.

13870

So I have a really weird story to tell. Sit. Have a beverage.

Back in the 1970s I spent a lot of time at conventions. Star Trek, comics… My friend Phil Hecht ran some of his own, but that was later.

We were a diverse bunch. Con life basically was that way.

We would go in on a suite together. Eventually we’d have around 10-12 people in the room. Then there would be folks that we didn’t see on a regular basis. Not friends, but acquaintances. They found us through various channels.

Froggy MacIntyre was one of them.

Froggy was, apparently, Scottish. He always wore a vested tweed suit. He had muttonchops. He was a redhead. He wore a tam o’ shanter.

Froggy was a character. We welcomed him with open arms as we did anyone. Ron the cross dresser. Ray Moran the guy with the suitcase of sex toys and who brought a record player to play Kiss albums. John Estrin who was a doctor’s son and a complete asshole. But he had money. Paul who had horrible acne all over. Dude got an accident settlement. Spent it all on hotel rooms. John Vanible, black dude who was a horn dog. He hit on all of the girls. He got a nasty nickname because of that. Mexican dude named Fernando who was a black belt in something. Ray thought he was too. Ferdy showed up with his gi. Put it on and did katas. Ray said he could beat him. Ray stripped down to his undies. Fernando hit him with a roundhouse kick. But not hard. I never understood why he didn’t fracture his jaw.

Let’s just say an eclectic bunch.

Anyway, Froggy. Froggy was funny. He was full of stories. And he’d tell them at the drop of a hat. He had the hots for Sharon. He wrote a song called 44 Double D. As he met a girl he’d write a new verse. I actually have his hand written and typed version of this.

Froggy had a strange problem at one con. He seemed to be unconscious. But he wanted a pen and paper. He wrote:

Me name not Froggy, me name Feargus.

Froggy we miss ye. Ye blazing fuck! :)

13871

Thanks. Got my beverage here, and have already read one of the articles.
And I will take this moment to once again nag you to write your autobiography.
I will continue to do this until you do it, dammit.

What prompted you to post this?
I see he died in 2010. Did you just recently find out about it?

13872

That quote from the NYT article Rich posted has prompted me to write something about someone I knew and admired:

I am employed as an operator (driver) at our local paratransit service. I’ve worked there for 17+ years. Roughly 10 years ago, we hired Willie Peoples, a guy who had just arrived here in Bismarck from New York with nothing but what he had in his car. When I asked why he chose Bismarck, he told me he didn’t care where he went, but wanted to get away from New York, so he closed his eyes and randomly pointed at a spot on a map of the Untied States. And this is where his finger landed.

He was a great employee. Always came to work ready to work. Always friendly, both to his fellow workers and to our disabled passengers. He was for instance the only driver that brought an umbrella to work and would hold it over the passengers’ head as he wheeled their wheelchair into and out of buildings while it rained. Everyone loved him.

I did not know him outside of work, and thus I know very little of his life before he got here, or what he did in his off-time. All I know is that we talked a lot about work, and he had a great attitude and a sense of humor. He was just an all-around great guy to work with.

He self-described himself as homeless when he arrived here. Another driver housed him at his own place until he got enough money together for his own apartment. And then, about five years ago, he actually managed to buy his own small house. Very modest place, but tidy. He also was very proud of the beautiful Mercedes car he picked up for $8,000, even though it was in perfect condition and only a few years old. He washed it seemingly every other day. It was always immaculate, as was his own personal appearance.

Then one day about two months ago, he simply did not show up for work. He did not call in, nor did he answer any calls. One of our managers finally went to his house and knocked on the door. Willie answered, but looked awful, like he was sick, but would only mutter a few unintelligible words before closing the door. And that’s the last we knew.

Until the Sunday before last:

This was so unlike Willie that I cannot believe it happened as described, and yet I have heard nothing different. There must be something more to it, but nothing I can think of fits what I know about the guy. I’ll probably never know the whole story.

I just decided to post this as my own little tribute to him, as I could not attend the memorial cook-out our company held at Willie’s neighbor’s house the day before yesterday. My memory of him is as a genuinely good guy, not the guy portrayed in the newspaper article.

This was the Willie I knew:

Willie%20Peoples%20circa%202010

13873

So sad, and mysterious. What happens to us that brings us to that kind of place?

It sounds like he got triggered by something during the attempted sale of his car and did something terrible and knew it, and was unable to accept dealing with the consequences of his actions. But it also sounds like from your story that he had spiraled down and wasn’t himself. Very sad.

13874

I think you’re on the right track. From what I hear, he had not yet found another job, and being unemployed for even two months can bring on a ton of financial hardship. I know he would not have sold his Mercedes unless his financial situation absolutely demanded it. That car meant so much to him; I think in his mind, it was an indicator of having made something of his life, as was his little house.

If I had to guess, when the guy showed up with cash (I’m just guessing here) to claim the car, Willie took the money, but could not let go of the car. Something went wrong in his mind, and when the guy insisted on the keys to the car (or possibly his money back if he wouldn’t give him the keys), Willie (from what I hear) fired a shot above the guy’s head, and barricaded himself into his house.

That’s my best speculation. But even that does not at all correspond with the sweet guy I knew. He had great empathy for people. In the days that followed, I’ve had literally dozens of our handicapped customers crying to me, telling me stories about how wonderful he was to them, and giving me hugs and long embraces. Everyone I meet that knew him is just devastated about this.

13875

It’s just something I do sometimes. I was talking to a friend that knew him too. He said something like I wonder what happened to him. So I did a search.

Sorry to hear about your friend.

13876

Same to you, buddy. Froggy sounded like quite the complex character.
From the Yunchtime link you posted:

Have you read this book he wrote?
I’m considering trying to find a copy based on that quote there. Sounds right up my alley.