The day I learned to follow directions

During my years at college, I learned many techniques for making the perfect pitcher of Kool-aid. I like to focused on making sure all the sugar grains were properly dissolved by adding a small amount of water to the kool-aid mix and stirring, making a think syrup, once that was done, I’d add water to taste.

My roomate George made his Kool-aid with hot water and stuck it in the freezer.

My other roommate made the Kool-aid with a practiced eye, and almost zen like quality from years of study and practice.

Over those years I became an addict not only to the Kool-aid but a slave to the process that it took to create the product.

The one thing I learned, and a lesson that I have never forgotten, was because of a discussion with my brother over our shared addition with Kool-aid.

He claimed he knew how to make the perfect pitcher of Kool-aid. I didn’t believe him, every one was of the opinion that “they” made the perfect pitcher of Kool-aid.

“Okay, what’s the perfect way”, I challenged.

He pointed to the back of the package. “The instructions”, he said simply. His thought process went like this: Kool-aid probably spend millions on R&D to figure out the right amount sugar, water and mix, why on earth should he spend time re-inventing the wheel.

I was speechless.

Since that revelation, even though my addictions is years behind me, I rarely rarely don’t take the time to read and follow directions.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Fantastic book from one of my favorite authors. Here is a short anecdote from the book. It is a conversation between Nobody Owens (Bod) and Nehemiah Trot a poet and ghost. in this passage Bod ask Trot about revenge.

“..Oh I had my revenge, Master Owens, and it was a terrible one. I wrote, and had published a letter…I would henceforth write not for them, but only for myself and posterity, and that I should, as long as I lived publish no more poems — for them! Thus I left instructions that upon my death my poems were to be buried with me, unpublished, and that only when posterity realized my genius…only then was my coffin to be disinterred, only then could my poems be removed from my cold dead hand, to finally be published to the approbation and delight of all. It is a terrible thing to be ahead of your time.”

“And after you died, they dug you up, and printed your poems?” [asked Bod]

“Not yet, no. But there is plenty of time. Posterity is vast”

Get The Graveyard Book on amazon

Going all the way

I heard Val Kilmer interviewed once. He was talking about meeting Marlon Brando on the set of “The Island of Dr. Moreau.” He told a story about knocking on the door of Brando’s trailer, being told to come in, and opening the door to find Brando at his makeup table, wearing a caftan, an upside down fruit bowl on his head, applying white pancake base to his cheeks. Seeing the look on Kilmer’s face, Brando said, “Yes, we’re going aaall the way on this one.”

via Pulpnoir

Meeting Aisha

One of my wife’s friends, and someone who I’ve known now for several years, and consider a friend as well invited us to her and her fiance’s apartment for drinks. It was nothing fancy or formal. Just two couples getting together.

When we walked into their apartment, she say’s my name in greeting.

“T.!”

I say, without missing a beat:

“Aisha!”

She stops cold mid-hug.

“Who’s Aisha?”

I stumbled and bumbled, before sputtering. “S.”, which is the woman’s name. “I’m sorry, I have no idea where that came from. I don’t even know any Aisha’s that well”.

She wasn’t having any of it. She gave me the third degree about who Aisha was, and a dressing down about calling her out her name.

My wife, meanwhile abandoned me for a glass of wine.