Noodling in Science

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  I always thought I was destined to be a science teacher, but then I analyzed the career move and thought better.  After hearing my daughter complain about science class, I went into a lecture about the virtues of science and I told her she was lucky I wasn’t her science teacher.  “Good warning dad,” she retorted.  Jimmy made the right career choice.

The conversation started when she was having a hard time eating supper.  We were in the midst of a delicious meal of Chinese lo mein noodles and she started to gag and refused to eat any more. 

“Hey, finish your meal,” I snorted between bites.  “There are starving kids in Indianapolis… or somewhere like that I have heard.”

“I can’t.  We just finished dissecting worms in science class and I can’t eat this stuff.”

I went into my tirade again about what a great science teacher I would’ve been in my day and continued, “Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.  You have to put that out of your mind if you want to be in science.  If I were teaching, I would've sent a note home to all my students yesterday urging that their parents have spaghetti or some stringy noodle for dinner after this biology class.  Then everyone could enjoy science even more.”

Yes… Jimmy would have been a great science teacher.

“Good warning dad.” 

  

Jimmy's Three Rules for International Travel

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  I have determined that there are three basic rules for international travel.

1.      Any sleep is good sleep.  

2.      Whenever food is placed in front of you, it must be time to eat.  You never know from where you next edible meal will come.

3.      Start each and every day with a healthy breakfast.  That way you know the day can only get better after eating that crap.

Jimmy’s Stained Glass Hell...o to Reality

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  Jimmy was reminded of my misadventures in stained glass when I received word that a friend from high school, Colleen Smith, was publishing her novel, GLASS HALO.  This is very coincidental on several fronts as now I have a reason to read a book for the first time since high school… and since I know her, this is my one degree of separation from a celebrity.  (Just hope she remembers to sign my copy likes she actually knows me).

The story line is intriguing and getting great reviews.  A portion of the synopsis begs for more… “GLASS HALO is the story of an intellectual, romantic and spiritual relationship between a lapsed Catholic stained glass artist and a charismatic but alcoholic Catholic priest. Through one another and with one another, the two investigate the mysteries of life and death, love and lust, spirituality and creativity. A passionate story of hellish temptation and heavenly grace, above all, Glass Halo addresses vocation, conversion, and the healing power of art.”  I couldn't do justice to the fine work, so I copied the paragraph from Colleen's website.   

 I am asking that my two followers log onto www.fridayjonespublishing.com/Friday_Jones_Publishing/Glass_Halo.html for more details and purchase advanced copies… or by the time my followers read this… it will be on its second printing and in paperback.

What more can you want from a book that delves into the mysteries of life and death, lust and love… Well that is where the similarities end for Jimmy other than the mystery of my foray into the art of the stained glass world.

It all started as a brilliant idea near the end of finishing  my basement.  My thought, “Wouldn’t it be cool to have matching stained glass panels on either side of the fireplace?”  I had an extra day or two in the schedule, so why not slap a couple of chunks of glass together and finish this project off right.

I found the nearest store and sauntered in, glanced at some of the fine work hanging from the ceiling and tracked down the clerk.  “Hey, can you direct me to the part of the store, where I can get a few pieces of this colored glass to assemble my stained glass window idea?” 

The clerk had a puzzled look on her face, so I asked again.  “I’m looking for some parts to assemble.  Where do you keep the kits?” 

Her mouth hung open… no words came out.  Since she didn’t understand me, I pantomimed hand motions with the words, “Pieces… put together… where?”

Finally she spoke, “Ah… It doesn’t work that way.”

“Huh?  I know what I want; I just need some help with the colors.  I’m an engineer… I can put anything together… How hard can this be?  As a man, I’ll make an exception and actually read the directions… but I’m pretty sure I can slap these bad boy parts together this afternoon.”

To her credit, she refused to sell me anything stating that I would not be happy with the results. 

Three classes later, a year down the crapper and a boat load of equipment, I tackled my idea.  I guess she knew what she was talking about.  Glass is an art which can not be measured in equations.  There is a feel and it takes inspiration to create the treasure. 

Next time I will commission the work from someone that knows what they are doing… Colleen, is Nora Kelley available?  Everyone else, you will just have to read the book to understand.

Jimmy’s Version of Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will. My blog update was delayed this past week due to unforeseen delays in Brasil. (Yes – that is the correct spelling in Portuguese.) First of all… great country, friendly people and a wonderful time, but getting out was another story. I just have to remember that “Life is a journey, not a destination.”

Travel started with a boat ride on the Amazon followed by a few days in São Paulo. Then due to scheduling and flight constraints, I had to coordinate travel through another city just to get back to the United States. This included a three hour layover with plenty of time to check bags for the final leg of my journey. However, a thunderstorm delayed my departure out of São Paulo and upon sprinting to the other terminal (something Jimmy does not do anymore), it turns out that I missed the boarding window and the last plane out by a half hour… even though the plane still had another thirty minutes before closing the door. No ticket, no boarding… no flight home… no place to stay. Delay number one. That was the bad news.

While still trying to catch my breath, another passenger in the same predicament tracked down a hotel with a few available rooms. Apparently he was able to speak while I just settled for the basics of trying to stay alive. Even though the situation looked bleak, I had to remember my new motto and see the opportunity… this is a part of the journey in life to enjoy. Now the good part… did I mention I was stuck in Rio de Janerio and Carnival was starting? Not sure if I mentioned that vital piece of information or not.

So while most of the US was basking in freezing temperatures, Washington had three feet of snow and Atlanta frozen to the ground, I decided to show off my gringo white skin on the beaches of Rio. I won’t scare you with any photos, but let’s just say that besides the lack of a tan, I noticed that the only other difference between me and the rest of the population was the profuse presence of six pack abs compared to my more valued approach of a midsection keg. Another saying in life is “Why settle for a six pack when you can have the whole damn keg.”

So after a stroll in the surf and the beginnings of the inevitable pink tinge of pre tan burn (which was 10 minutes later), it was time to make the pilgrimage to Corcovado where Christ the Redeemer overlooks the city. See the photo at top.

The panorama was amazing and the statue the same. The final few steps to the top brought back a reminder of my airport sprint… time to consider the value of a lighter keg.

Next stop home. Of course, now the only way home was a rebook to Brasilia (the capital) to catch the last international flight home with another three hour layover prior to the midnight flight. Note - every bit of the three hours was needed to go through the new security searches thanks to the tightey-whitey underwear bomber. Now the only problem was Atlanta could not handle anymore airplanes due to the snow. Luckily they provided that essential bit of information only after everyone had boarded and we were all settled into our seats. Only the airline provided the information in Portuguese and Jimmy couldn’t figure out why everyone was pulling luggage out and mumbling. Time to follow the crowd and exit. One hour later and one mob scene (again only in Portuguese) to get taxi and hotel vouchers, Jimmy was standing in another one hour line to check into the hotel with the sweet bliss of sleep and an opportunity to soothe the sunburn.

Lesson learned… enjoy the journey. You never get enough chances to show off your tan… or your physique. A vida é uma viagem, não um destino.  “Life is a journey, not a destination.”

Environmentalists of the World… UNTIE… Your Brains

Me Knows Better Than to Say This... But I will. If you are a Tree Hugger, then you may not appreciate this... but Jimmy thinks this is hilarious. I'm not saying anything about the political correctness of society, or the hypocrisy of it all, but I'm a bit confused by the purpose or intent of the sign.  I took this photo in the men's restroom at the Science Museum in Chicago.

Well, it seems pretty apparent that I should look for an air dryer around me because it "Saves trees, water, oil and landfill space" that is according to the sign.  And they apologize for not providing paper towels even though everyone perfers those.  I understand we need to protect our environment and all and I'm OK with that.

Which should I use? … Hot Air or Tree Pulp?

I'll help, but let me know where can I find something to dry my hands?  That's all I want.  I'll use the air dyers even though I prefer paper towels... but where are those damn air dryers which are supposed to be good for the environment?

Apparently not here!

Or are they just trying to insult the intelligence of the environmentalists?

So what are they implying here? I thought the Science Museum espoused a friendly environmental policy.. a green society... perhaps they are making a subtle hint at some people's intellect.

Apparently from the widespread use of paper towels… it didn’t bother anyone. And the ones that were concerned probably couldn’t read the sign.

(I should know better than to say that).  I did warned you if you were a tree hugger.

Eagles and Harleys and Claws... Oh My

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will. On a spur of the moment type of thing, Jimmy decided to venture down to see a raptor release this morning. Back in August a bald eagle was spotted next to a road in Northern Minnesota by a gentleman riding his motorcycle. The eagle never moved and upon returning he noticed the eagle was injured.

As Brian tells the story, he decided he had to help. So he wrapped up the bird with his leather jacket and strapped him down to the back of the bike with a bungee cord. When asked if the leather jacket he was wearing today was the one he used, he responded, “No, it got pretty tore up by the bird, but when Harley-Davidson heard about this, they sent me this brand new one to wear.”

Although the Raptor Center doesn’t normally name the wild birds they are trying to return to nature, the media nicknamed the bird Harley.

Brian continued talking about his adventure trying to corral the bird and he mentioned that he still has a scar on his left thumb where the eagle took a bite. He added, “All I can say is that bite really, really hurt… a lot, but not as much as when he grabbed my right arm with his talons.”

By the way, the Raptor Center stepped right in and reminded everyone at that point to contact the DNR to pick up injured animals.

No shit. Who knew that trying to wrap up an injured bird of prey with a stinking leather jacket and then trying to bungee cord his ass to a motorcycle wouldn’t be dangerous…

Decisiveness Part 2

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  On the subject of Decisiveness, Jimmy knows a person that was being tested for ADD and she was asked the following question by the examiner, “Do you ever have trouble making up your mind?”

Quickly she answered, “No I never have a problem making a decision.”

After a moment of contemplation she corrected herself, “Well some times I… uh…” and then she reconsiders the direction, “No, no… sorry, I don’t have any problems.” 

Then to be absolutely truthful since this was after all a medical question, she added, “But on occasion….” 

Finally, flustered by her own rambling, she finished, “Well… I don’t think so.”

To which the questioner responded, “I’ll just take that as a yes.”