Evil hosting company equals lack of updates and email. If you've sent an email in the last week, chances are I haven't received it. So, it is probably safer to send any email here for now. As I try to enlighten my hosting company, I probably won't be able to update much - frankly, I don't know how this post got through - so you may want to ignore me for a while!

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21 Steps to a Better Alien Abduction

Step #1 - Go to a bar.

Step #2 - Drink lots of alcohol. Make sure that while you are drunk everyone knows that you are a huge fan of the X-files and Star Trek.

Step #3 - Flaunt your "Roswell Rules" t-shirt.

Step #4 - Just before you leave the bar, make sure everyone knows you are going to go be abducted by aliens - but don't tell them where you are going to be abducted by aliens..

Step #5 - Read the last step again, it is kind of confusing - especially when you are drunk (see step #2).

Step #6 - Go out into the middle of nowhere and strip naked.

Step #7 - Put your clothes back on, what do you think, aliens have no sense of dignity?

Step #8 - Move toward strange light.

Step #9 - Turn off truck headlights you idiot! If you drain the battery you won't be able to drive to the nearest bar to brag about your alien abduction. Oh, and be sure that when you are moving toward strange lights they are in the sky - not on the ground. Take another drink (see rule #2).

Step #10 - When aliens finally do pick you up, ask to be taken to their leader (like they have never heard that one before).

Step #11 - Beg them for the deep anal probe!

Step #12 - Wave to Elvis.

Step #13 - Listen as they impart the wisdom of the ages to you.

Step #14 - In regards to intergalactic peace, don't breathe directly on them (see rule #2).

Step #15 - When they drop you off at your truck, remember to check to make sure you have your keys before they leave you there.

Step #16 - Walk back to the bar because you left your keys on the alien mother ship.

Step #17 - When you get to the bar, drink (see rule #2) and brag.

Step #18 - Be so loud, annoying, and smelly (see rule #2 and #11) that no one will listen to you.

Step #19 - Be so loud, annoying, and smelly (see rule #2 and #11) that everyone will make fun of you.

Step #20 - Get so drunk that you end up mumbling the wisdom of the ages to a napkin. Listen as napkin recites Shakespeare to you.

Step #21 - Wake up two days later despite the protests of all the townsfolk, discover you have forgotten the wisdom of the ages and despite many arduous attempts at communication, the napkin isn't talking to you anymore.

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Rosa

The year was 1995; I had this car.

Rosa was a bright red, mid 80's Nissan 200sx xe with power windows, power moonroof, power mirrors, air conditioning, radio/cassette with equalizer, 5 speed manual transmission, pop up headlights, keyless entry, and that voice that would tell you when you left your lights on or your door ajar.

This was, however, 1995, not the mid 80's.

The power windows only worked if it was above 50 degrees (I lived in Minnesota at the time), the power mirrors only worked if I used my own power to move them, the air conditioning button did depress and light up when pushed - but no cold (or even slightly cool) air would come out of the blowers (unless of course it was winter), the radio could only catch one frequency (a golden oldies station that played music like Chubby Checker's The Twist and Jerry Lee Lewis' Great Balls of Fire), the pop up headlights would not pop down, the keyless entry was indeed keyless - the driver's side door would not lock, and the voice would only say "Yo or s ar" (translation: Your door is ajar) but it would say this often because the driver's side door was a bit off of its hinges and did not close entirely properly.

The power moonroof and the manual transmission worked fine.

I loved this car.

Rosa was given to me by my cool cousin who was moving to Australia to begin some high-paying business-type job. He knew that I was in college and was looking for a cheap car. Rosa cost me $1 to buy and $20 to register. She was perfect for me.

Over the years that I owned her, I had to make a few modifications.

I had to put duct tape over the sharp, pointy, metal edges by the doors so people (including me) wouldn't keep snagging their shirts, sweaters, and coats on them. I had to use dental floss (surprisingly strong stuff!) to help hold the license plates in place. I had to hold the manual transmission firmly in first gear because of its propensity to slip out into neutral. I had to stock a goodly number of spare fuses in the glove compartment because the radio's fuse kept blowing.

All of this was okay though.

She was *my* car. She was fairly maintenance free (besides the occasional changing of the duct tape, dental floss, and fuse). And I only used her a couple of times a week, mostly to pick up groceries, friends, or dates.

Speaking of friends and dates, they didn't like her much. They didn't like the way she looked, the way she sounded, or the way she smelled (in her declining months, there was some sort of exhaust problem) - she was pretty much an assault on the senses.

The groceries didn't mind her at all.

The last few months of her life she struggled.

She couldn't make it up large hills. She couldn't produce any warm air for the blowers. She could no longer say "Yo or s ar". The transmission warning light was always on. The parking break stopped working (this along with her propensity to slip into neutral made parking difficult).

I had to giver her up.

I couldn't even get the fifty bucks that the salvage yard offers people for their cars because they had to come to my home and tow it instead of me being able to drive it out to them. Cheap bastards.

---

The year is 2001; I have this car.

It's a nice, shiny, new luxury car with power windows, power mirrors, air conditioning, seat warmers, cd player, etc.

Everything works. It is a very nice, comfortable, safe car.

But it isn't Rosa.

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Fall Rollerblading
Having taken off from work early to go rollerblading at Lake Calhoun (a park/lake near downtown Minneapolis), I was enjoying a nice fall day. The temp was in the mid-60's, the leaves were whispering in the breeze, and the colors - whoa baby! - the fall colors were magnificent.

I got my 'blades on, popped BB King Live at San Quentin into the headset, and took off down the path.

After about 5 minutes of working out the kinks in my muscles from my morning of sitting at a computer, I hit the zone. You know the zone - that place where your muscles are warmed up, you don't feel like you are exerting any effort to move. You feel like you could just keep going, and going, and going - just like that little Energizer Bunny.

As I was making the wide circle around the lake I looked to my right and noticed a woman standing by the edge of the water. It looked like she was just enjoying the day, watching the sun play across the ripples in the water. I also noticed she was holding one end of a leash.

I glanced to my left and noticed a dog playing in the leaves. It looked like it was just enjoying the day, rolling around on its back and getting all dirty. I also noticed it was tied to the end of a leash.

I looked to the right. Yup, she had a leash in her hand.

I looked to the left. Yup, the dog was tied to a leash.

I looked straight ahead. Yup, there was the leash stretched across the path I was on suspended about 3 feet in the air.

"Hmm," I thought to myself. "That is one long leash."

Remember, I was in 'the zone'. I was feeling fine. That may explain why I was thinking, "Hey, that leash doesn't look so high from the ground. I can jump it."

Temporary insanity, baby.

Now, I'm a pretty good rollerblader. I don't wobble much while at rest or on the move. I can get around a corner easily enough. I can even go up and down stairs.

As I have now learned, I cannot jump 3 foot high dog leashes.

I got close to the leash. The lady was staring at the water - oblivious. The dog was rolling around in the leaves - oblivious. I was getting closer to the leash - oblivious. I looked further up the path and noticed that a group of people had stopped whatever it was they were doing and begun watching me - definitely not oblivious.

Jump

I was in the air. This wasn't so difficult. I was already over the leash, absolutely no chance of me hitting the leash with my 'blades now. No face-plant for the bakiwop. I had cleared the leash. Ladies and gentleman, we had clearage!

Oblivious.

Oblivious to the fact that it isn't the flying, it's the landing that hurts. Oblivious to the fact that I was not going to make it.

Land

My 'blades hit the ground first, my butt hit the ground second, my headset hit the ground third, my pride hit the ground last.

The people who were watching me rushed over to make sure I was alright. "Nothing to see here people, keep moving along", is what I thought to myself. "Yes, thank you very much, I am fine." Is what I told them.

I looked to my right. The lady was still standing there. Still staring at the water - oblivious.

I looked to my left. The dog was still rolling around in the leaves - oblivious.

I looked down the path, picked my butt, headset and pride off the pavement and continued on my way.

Fall Rollerblading, baby.

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Cable Guy

I had decided to get cable.

When I first moved in to my apartment I had not signed up for cable, so I was using an antenna on my television to "improve" the television reception. While the use of the antenna was indeed an "improvement" over the complete visual and aural static I received without it, I had come to realize that "improve" was one of those extremely relative terms.

In this case what improvement meant was going from complete visual and aural static to complete visual and aural static with the occasional morse code beep thrown in for good measure.

After a week of this and with boxes to still unpack lying all around the living room, I plugged in one of the cable cables that was left behind by the previous tenant. I figured what the heck, it might work, and even if it didn't it would stop me from looking at all of those boxes lying around.

It worked! There were crystal clear pictures and sounds coming out of my little 12'' television! The Simpsons never looked so good. I was so happy, in fact, that I finished unpacking that very evening.

Fast forward two months.

I came home from work and flipped on the television - no cable. I'd been busted. I wasn't paying for it, my landlord wasn't pay for it, and now I was back to trying to figure out if "...---..." meant "SOS", and if so, who was in trouble and how could I help them.

"Who needs cable anyway?" I thought to myself. "I have a life, right? I have friends, don't I? Why should I fork out $40 bucks a month for cable when I can go out and do tremendously wonderful and exciting things instead of sitting in front of the television, right?"

After two days it was time to order cable. I looked up the cable company's phone number, picked up the phone, and dialed the number.

"Welcome to Time Warner Cable, all of our operators are currently busy."

That's all the voice said. No approximate waiting time. No options to reach different departments. No music. Nothing. The only reason that I didn't think I had been disconnected was because I was not getting that annoying beeping in my ear which seems to be the telephone company's way of saying, "Hey buddy, why are you just sitting with this phone on your ear when you could be out doing tremendously wonderful and exciting things with your life!"

The silence went on for just over half an hour. The only sound on the phone was my breathing. Every once and a while I held my breath to check and see if it was really me breathing, and yes, it seemed to be me. There was no other sound, just dead air. Up until now I had always hated that music that companies played while they put you on hold. It all sounded like Metallica as played by the Recorder and Wind Chime Orchestra, but listening to myself breathe over the phone for half an hour had changed my mind - bring on Enter Sandman, baby!

"This is Chris, how can I help you?" (Notice: The names have not been changed to protect the innocent. If you know Chris who works at Time Warner Cable, please slap him upside the head for me)

"Hello, I would like to order your standard cable package, please."

"You don't want any of our premium packages?"

"No thanks, just the standard package?"

"So you don't want HBO?"

"No."

"You don't want our Encore package?"

"No."

"You don't want Showtime?"

"No, I would just like the standard package."

"How about our optimum premium package?"

"No, just the standard package."

"How abo.."

"Standard package, please."

"Or our ..."

"Standard package, please."

A confused silence on Chris' end, then, "So you want our standard package?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Can I get your address?"

"1150 Hennepin Avenue. Apartment H..."

"What were the numbers?"

"1150."

"Eleven?"

"One. One. Five. Zero."

"Street?"

"Hennepin Avenue."

I also eventually managed to give Chris my apartment number, city, and zip code.

"Hold please, I am having trouble pulling up your address."

I was left again in silence. No music, just me and my breathing. After the first three minutes I began to worry. Is Chris okay? Did he maybe forget to breathe and pass out on his keyboard?

After five minutes of holding I began to think maybe Chris called over his other "special" customer service friends. I imagined a dark room with ten or twelve faces staring over Chris' shoulder, bathed in the light coming from the monitor. Chris would ask, "Guys, where is the '1' key?" A small sigh would escape from one of his buddies, "I think it is by the 'any' key."

Chris broke me out of this reverie by coming back on the line, "Can I have your credit card number?"

I gave it to him.

"All right," he says. "We can schedule a tech to come out in a week."

"Why do I need a tech?"

"So we can hook up your cable, sir."

"But I have everything I need on this end, the previous tenant had cable."

"One moment please." Chris left me alone again with my breathing.

Five minutes later he came back, "What was your address?"

Sigh. I told him.

"One moment please."

Another Five minutes later, "Your right, all we have to do is turn it back on from here. It should take about five minutes and then you should be all hooked up."

"Thank you."

I waited five minutes, unplugged the antenna and plugged in the cable. I had cable again!

Thank you Chris.

caveat lector