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Ty: You going to come to the Tap Room with us?
Me: I can’t, I have school work to do.
Ty: Math nerd…I’m just kidding math nerds are cool.
Chris: Except in high school, I wouldn’t want to be a math nerd in high school.
Ty: In the long run though, it’s good to be a math nerd.
Me: As t tends toward infinity…
Friday night at one of the doucheiest bars in the neighborhood (infer what you want about me being there) I’m talking to a girl from Kentucky, which naturally leads to the discussion of whether she would rather marry a douche or a redneck. Her opinion: “The redneck would be nicer, but he might beat me…” she still whole-heartedly chose the hypothetical redneck for matrimony.
Another part of the exchange:
Kentucky: The douche bag would probably have more money.
Me: I think a lot of them don’t actually have much money, they just try and look like they do.
Kentucky: Ya, they spend it all on Ed Hardy shirts.
That might be true, but it is widely believed in San Diego. The following illustrates a hypothesis for that belief (and a little bracket advice):
me: How far you think your Huskies could go?
It’s a question I’ve dropped a few times to either change the direction of a conversation or break uncomfortable silences. Dull people will throw out Kermit, folks with a little more spark tend to answer Animal, the Swedish Chef or Beaker.
If my reader is the boring type, you might want to skip this. Otherwise here is a little holiday Cheer:
My roommate hooked me up with a free pass to Comic Con on Wednesday. I was shocked at how well the crowd fit the stereotypes. There were skinny, sickly looking nerds, and overweight nerds. There was no shortage of pony tails and bad facial hair. 1/3 of the crowd seemed to now how to behave at a large crowded event, another third would just stop walking in the middle of the convention floor to look around in amazement, another third would awkwardly try and shove by to get to whatever it is they are trying to get to.
And I’m not sure what they’d be so desperate to see. There were a few corporate booths previewing movies and video games that I could see the nerds of the world being excited about, but it was mostly dudes selling ‘clever’ t-shirts, comic books, or original art, usually of scantily clad comic book chics or sci-fi heroinnes.
I will give the nerds some credit for embracing what they love despite the scorn it brings from larger society. At what point I was drawn into an argument over who would win a light saber duel between Superman and a jedi (motivated by a drawing of Batman and Darth Vader locked in combat, which I could not find on Google Images). I had to end that quickly before my pony tail started growing out.
It made parking for work a pain in the ass (I walked ten blocks to the office yesterday, and yes, I should have taken public transit). One co-worker, having paid $17.50 to park told me he wouldn’t be upset if the Convention Center exploded. He told me of his attempt to pass a costumed, overweight convention goer who was walking erratically on the side walk. As he passed he said “Out of my way Frodo” and got a reply of “Actually, I’m Samwise.”
You look so sad, cheer up buttercup!
I was contemplating returning to full time employment. The commentor was in a car stopped at a light. I don’t feel better about going back to work, but I am smiling now. I’m going to do my best to throw a nicety at a stranger in return.
Having returned to academia, I spend a lot of time with early and mid-twentysomethings. I do my best to pass on as much of the wisdom I’ve acquired over my many years on the planet. The other day I found myself in a discussion about people trying to coninue to live a college student like lifestyle after graduation. I commented that most people I know live that way until they either buy a house, get married or have a child.
After having said this I decided it would become something of a litmus test for maturity. I’m not trying to say maturity (or my measures) are good or bad. A while ago a 22 year old told me she thought I was a little immature for my age, I pointed out she didn’t know anyone else my age. From what I’ve seen I’m pretty standard (of course everyone assumes they fit the norm) for someone who hasn’t checked off an item on the above list. After your mid twenties maturity seems to be based more on what you do than how long you live. Job responsibilities can have a similar effect, but harder to test because it’s more of a sliding scale. There are, of course, exceptions as well.
I’d also note that I write this on a trip to attend a friends wedding who bought a house last summer. Is there anything else that could go on the list?
Me: Nothing kills a party like talking about statistics.
This post at the Wages of Wins brought back some fond memories of a debate between my good friends Dave and Lindsey. I haven’t actually read the post yet, just the title. Dave took the stance that Lindsey was overrated, which Lindsey took offense to for some reason. Dave tried to explain that being overrated wasn’t inherently bad, but eventually he conceded that Linsey was rated.
Looking back, I can see why she didn’t like it. I personally never felt that Lindsey was overrated. The Wages of Wins is about basketball, and as far as I know she is not good at that, but she has many other admirable qualities, like a great sense of humor, a good head on her shoulders, and a lovely song she wrote about how great cheese is.
Perhaps a rating system of friends would be a good way to solve arguments like this in the future, or a Facebook friend prediction market. For the record, that is now a WFS idea, I don’t want to see any of you bums stealing it.
As for the Wages of Wins, I have skimmed the article since writing that I hadn’t read it, and apparently Kevin Durant was the second most overrated player in the league last year. Screw you, Oklahoma City.
Tutoring the youth of San Diego today, I blew a great opportunity to use one of my favorite Chef quotes, one of the kids tried to get another one to give him a ride to PB to buy a bong. These are high schoolers, so maybe I should have been concerned, but I wasn’t. What I definitely should have done was told them “Children, there’s a time and place for everything, and it’s called college.”
The older kid didn’t know what a bong was, and claimed he had recently learned what blow job meant. Dude is a senior in high school. He also admitted to skipping class to go study for other classes. I’m concerned for the youth of America.