I’ll Use My Own Pen, Thank You Anyway

Look at me go, I’m in the process of completing one third of the total number of posts for last month… and the Vegas material has not even been collected yet.  Of course, there is always the quality over quantity argument, but I’m trying my best to cover both.  Today’s entry (actually tonight’s since I made it home from work pretty late) was observed at the State Fair Grounds over the weekend.  If you read my last post you already know I was there for an agility dog show.  The topic at hand was found in a location that I encounter at least one social/guy code violation in a day.  Kind of gave it away with the guy code statement, but just in case we are talking about the men’s public bathroom.  As a staunch supporter and follower of the bathroom guy codes, I am continually amazed at the number of people who are unaware of the unwritten rules or just don’t care.   Nothing creeps me out more than when the “greatest possible distance” rule is violated at the urinals… note, this includes redirection to the stalls if the greatest distance cannot be achieved with the current urinal usage configuration.  This topic probably needs a whole blog on its own, so I’ll redirect back to my main topic … which is bathroom wall writing.  Can someone please explain to me what the fascination is with this particular activity?  I had actually forgotten about this practice until I stepped foot into the public bathroom near the Coliseum Horse Arena.  There on the wall holding the urinal was various witty and thought provoking prose meant to inspire while one relieves.  I jest, of course, since it generally consists of a juvenile phrase followed by a phone number that is generally scratched off or smudged in some manner.  So apparently mid-drain someone decides they need to share an important piece of information, whips out a writing utensil and makes his mark (with the pen/pencil, not with the other although I wouldn’t put it past such a person).  Clearly he (yes, I think I can be gender specific here) didn’t run to the sink, wash his hands and then take out his pen and complete the wall graffiti.  I would also suggest that the dominant hand was used since most people are generally one-handed writers so it was likely involved in uncapping more than the pen or pencil.  If you carry this thought through to the end, he probably places it back in his pocket only to take it out later to write on a piece of paper or some other more appropriate medium.  I can only hope he isn’t a pen cap biter, or worse, offer up the pen to an innocent victim who needs to take a quick note.   But whom am I kidding, what is the true likelihood of this individual washing his hands up exit in the first place?   Betting “on the come” that you think about this the next time you use someone else’s pen or pencil – in actuality I am probably more worried about the guy who wets his fingers to smudge out the number on the wall (ugh!).  Quite intriguing was the person who actually responded to a statement on the wall proclaiming “F**ck Life” with the compelling and mind blowing affirmation of “so right”   (note this reply happened within three hours from the time I first saw the F.L. in the morning)  What is that?  Is your life so boring and diluted that you actually have to respond to a wall scribble?  did you get to zip with a glee in your heart?  Unfortunately, I’ll probably never ever know the answers to that question since that would probably violate an established guy code regarding asking someone the reason for a urinal activity – wait, there is no probably about that – definite VIOLATION.

I leave you with some words of advice… always carry your own pen or pencil so you don’t have to think about this topic ever again

Resolution through Tattoo

First off, a whopping 6 blog entries all last month (although to be truthful, my last one could have been three).  Definitely dipping below plan, but the good news is I am heading to Vegas next week.  You know what that means…. enough blog fodder to last me the rest of the year 8^).  This Labor Day weekend, we headed down to Springfield for an Agility Dog Show my dogs were competing in.  It was actually being held at the State Fair Grounds along with a huge motorcycle race which was bringing in everyone with a Hog in a 50 mile radius that wasn’t already up in Wisconsin at the big Harley gathering up there.  My parents showed up a little later in the day to watch the dogs run and ended up finding a spot where they were parking to go to the motorcycle race.  Nothing to special there, just the standard honor system for row parking – space, car, car, space providing the ability for each vehicle to leave without being blocked in.

At some point in the day, I went back to my Dad’s vehicle to check if they had left their cell phone in the car.  While I was looking in the car windows, a van pulls up and parks in the space between the double rows of cars (car, car, about 5 ft of space,  newly parked car, about 5ft of space, car , car).  My Dad was parked in the second spot in and wasn’t blocked in at the time since the new van parked behind the first car, but the driver was basically establishing a new row pattern which was surely to be duplicated the rest of the way down (assuming they could actually get turned 90 degrees in the tiny space.  I was somewhat surprised that someone would actually do that so I decided it was appropriate to wait until the individual exited his vehicle so I could question him about this particular decision.  Best case, I could point out the error of his ways, at worst case I would have new material for my blog.  An older man gets out (I’ll go with mid 60’s) with a cigar in his mouth.  I asked him if he was actually going to park there because it would lead to us being blocked in.  He then asked us which car was our and we pointed out the second car in, but it would eventually happen if someone followed his lead…. what followed totally stunned me…

Completely out of the blue the individual replies with “You know, you’re right I am starting a new row and it could block you in. I’ll tell you what, since you’re wearing that shirt (looking towards my Father …. )  he then reaches over and pulls up his right sleeve to reveal a Caterpillar logo tattoo matching the logo on my Father’s shirt which I had given him as present)  … I’ll move my vehicle for you.”  Unbelievable, I was expecting some serious discord and as it turns out, this guy actually retired from Cat (where my brother and I work) and actually worked in the facility in Decatur where my older brother used to work – He even knew my brother.  We exchanged names (his name was Mike), shook hands and pleasantly departed.   Sometimes things work out better than expected and fortunately this is one of those times.  Saved by a tattoo.. now that is definitely a first for me since most of the ink I see these days leans to the aggressive side.  What is the most satisfying is someone liked working for my company so well, they had it permanently displayed on their body.  Just one more example of the strong commitment to the Caterpillar Family.