rustypants speaks

a conversation with a student today in one of my computer classes after a discussion about viruses:

me: are you having trouble answering that question?
student: yeah, the answer’s not in the book.
me: wait - are you telling me the book is asking you to answer a question it didn’t give the answer to in the first place?
student: yeah, it has a virus.

*outrageous laughter from me*
then the conversation continues after i show the student where in the book he can find the answer:

student: ohh! there it is!
me: no more virus?
student: no, you fixed it. the Rust Anti-Virus Program.

*more laughter*

i love teaching.

as a boy, our backyard contained a myriad of flowers and plants thanks to my parents’ green thumbs. one gorgeous flower we had is known as the 4 o’clock plant. it looks like this:

but the seeds were what were fun to my little brother and i. they looked like little hand grenades and to get to them you had to squeeze the pod of the plant and it would pop open! way cool! the seeds look like this:

we loved to go into the yard and frolic and play, popping 4 o’clock seed pods and pretending they were grenades, throwing them at each other and our friends.

it was all in good fun until the day one of the seeds blew up in poor ralph’s hand.

cruel mother nature.

while ordering treats for the dog today online

i almost ordered a bag of beef pizzle

but then i thought:

ow! ouch!! gaaah!!!

no, thanks.

an incredibly fun conversation with one of my girls who is super-smart, over-analytical, logical, gorgeous, who, at times, suppresses her “girlishness” as being illogical, and has at last found a boyfriend who is seemingly like-minded (after a… less than fitting relationship):

Adrienne: well I am writing a paper
and i was at the library
but I decided to pick another study place
so I could meet my bf when he gets out of class
:-)
rustypants: haha
wow
that was like, an OMG moment
sweet
Adrienne: why is that an OMG moment?
rustypants: because i have NEVER heard it from you before, and i’ve known you for…
4 years?
5 years?
Adrienne: heh
I LIKE MY BOYFRIEND
rustypants: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Adrienne: I THINK HE”S REALLY CUTE
rustypants: stop it!!
NIEFPOinhQP[W3ORA;owei”W{ISN
Adrienne: AND I WANT TO KISS HIM ALL NIGHT
rustypants: STOP STOP STOP!!!!
Adrienne: but I can’t
rustypants: NOOOOOOOOOOOO
Adrienne: :-/
rustypants: OMG
my equilibrium will never recover

when i was growing up, my family had a big above-ground swimming pool in the backyard. i don’t remember enjoying swimming a lot, but it was always fun getting into the pool. parties, family get togethers, saturday afternoons, hot and sticky summer days - i have a number of neat memories from this pool.

but the memory i have that sticks out the most is this:

i was young - maybe seven or eight years old.

we had early bedtime, even in the summer. this is difficult for kids, isn’t it? the sun is still up, and there you are - getting ready for bed. gah! it’s like being tortured! all that time lost sleeping when you could be pursuing treasure or beating up on your little brother in the backyard or any number of worthwhile adventures that have to be put on hold so you can go to sleep.

one night after we had already gone to sleep, my dad came in and woke us up. it was dark out and i remember being puzzled at the awakening. we were to put on our swimsuits and come out into the backyard! wha??

mom was in her suit already and we were excited, but concerned. it’s chilly out! isn’t this going to be too cold to swim in? dad told us that the water would still be warm from the sun beating down on it all day. i remember not believing him, but once we got outside and went to the pool…

the perimeter lights were on. as we walked into the pool area and stuck our hands in the water - hey! it IS warm! swimming at night, the stars out, the crickets chirping, family close-by.

we swam for a while and had a really good time. the fine details are long lost, but the emotional sensations remain - it was a really neat time together. after we swam, my dad asked me if i wanted to ride with him to baskin robbins in his ‘55 t-bird (with the top down - woo-hoo!) and pick up some ice cream.

this whole evening was so out of the ordinary and was so much fun - it surely wasn’t more than an hour or two in length but it has stuck with me ever since.

when lise and i were talking a few weeks ago about family memories, this one was a close second in cool things from my parents - this one with dad in particular.

my lovely is blogging regularly at www.mindrides.com about her ongoing 4+ year battle with bi-polar disorder. this took a lot of courage and balls to open up and tell all - she has been working through this illness largely alone due to pesky, ill-informed misconceptions of bi-polar disorder. it’s been a long and difficult time but she continues to amaze me! i’m quite proud of her!

you ought to go over and check it out!

teaching at the high school level proves to be exciting. and frustrating.

and after a particularly frustrating wednesday, i woke up thursday as cranky as i had left the day before.

so i got to my class and wrote “cantankerous” on the board, offered extra points to anyone who got onto dictionary.com and found the definition, found several synonyms for the word, and wrote them on their paper.

this led to a productive discussion on being cantankerous, cranky, pissy, peevish, and disagreeable.

it also served as a warning.

but still.

some students took my last nerve.

and stomped all over it.

grrr.

when we lived in the D.C. / Baltimore / Annapolis area we frequently asked others for suggestions on the local fare, hidden restaurants, hole-in-the-wall joints - places that you only get to know because you’ve lived in the area your whole life, right?

over dinner with friends one evening, we’re asked if we’ve ever had ann’s footlongs in glen burnie. we replied that we’d seen the place before but had not stopped to eat. oh my goodness, the litany that followed this was stunning: greatest hot dogs in the world, been there 50 years, we used to go there after school every day, they’re like hot dogs from God, when you go you HAVE to get the “double-dog” because those are the best, oh, remember that time when we went there, blah blah blah, 100% beef dogs that, if you get them done correctly, have chili, onions, mustard on them as well, and if you’re going to do it, you have to do it all the way, etc. etc.

well, it just so happened that i worked not a mile away from the mighty ann’s footlongs! oh, goodie!!

a plan of attack was devised and a week after this exchange i left school at lunchtime to grab an ann’s double-dog footlong.

i walk into the place and could tell it was a genuine greasy-spoon, hole-in-the-wall, been here forever kinda place. old-timers hanging around, folks behind the counter who look like they’ve been there since the eisenhower administration, grease that looks like IT’S been around since ike, too, old-timey seats and a standing-room-only lunch crowd waiting.

and the first red flag? instead of cooking their dogs on the griddle, they tossed them into this humongous pit of bubbling grease. i stood in awe (and disgust) at the sheer amount of grease and the huge number of dogs percolating therein.

i step up and boldly demand a double dog with chili, hold the onions. into the festering grease fly two more dogs.

red flag number two? they pull the dogs out, put them on a huge bun, slather chili on top, put the results in two sheets of aluminum foil, wrap several napkins around it, and put it into a paper bag. this wasn’t the red flag, though - the red flag came less than a minute later when, walking out to the car, the napkins and paper bag have soaked through with grease. and soaked through my clothes. and was about to soak through my seats in the car.

why, oh mercy, why didn’t i stop right then?

i ate the ann’s double-dog. it was a mess. it was a greasy delicious mess. it slid down my throat and began a toxic chemical reaction unparalleled in the anals (sic) of history.
it. was. disgusting. worst hot dog ever. period.

anyone with an iron gut would love it. otherwise, find another hole-in-the-wall place to eat (like the honey bee restaurant on rt. 2).

—————

edit: one of the best hot dogs ever? chicks drive-inn in west haven, CT - mark took us there one of the times we went up with him. there’s something about open-air dogs on the beach with good friends. 

the last two weeks have been interesting as recent transplants to pensacola.

first, tropical storm fay was supposed to blow into town and terrorize us with huge storms. this was exciting, right? i made plans to sit on the front porch all day and watch storms blow through one after another! we stocked up on water and food just in case, watched the beginnings of the storm move in on saturday and braced for the coup de grace on sunday. i went to sleep that night in childish anticipation of storm watching on sunday (and everyone was talking about how school would surely be closed monday, etc - not bad!)…

woke up sunday morning, ran to the window, threw open the blinds and…! AND!!!!

sunshine. big fluffy clouds. birds singing. flowers blooming.

what the frick? who took my storm??

by the next weekend, the news has hyped up hurricane gustav to the point that gas stations were literally OUT OF GAS from the frenzied rush. grocery store lines were ridiculous. windows were being boarded up on our street and generators were tested in driveways.

now, hurricanes are different than tropical storms. i wasn’t exactly looking forward to a hurricane, but by the weekend it looked like we would just get some nice big-ass storms. woo-hoo! storms! YES!! the following pics were taken on saturday on the beach - just before The Big Storms were supposed to move in. water like glass. incredible.

so monday comes and again, excitement is in my heart as i think about sitting and watching storms all day. the hype has worked its way into my brain and we’re fully vested in this. again, reports of schools closing on tuesday were rampant, so icing on the cake, right?

monday comes. some clouds. no rain. no big storms.

now, wait a minute!! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY STORM???

we did go to the beach which was totally nutso. here’s the exact same spot 2 days after the above pics, and 20-30 feet of the beach has been washed away by 15-20 foot waves…

so now people are talking about hurricane ike, and my reply: i’ll believe it when i see it! it’s like cincinnati weather forecasters and snowstorms - until it hits land, i’ll reserve judgement.

gimme my storm back!!!

after three weeks of teaching at pine forest high school

i woke up from a nightmare last night

where i was back at my school from last year.

*whew*

cheech and chong are back together.

the only line from any of their movies that i can remember is:

“aren’t you jerry garcia from the grateful dead?”

given the change in society since their last act (30 years ago?), are these guys even relevant anymore?

heard about the new browser from google? it’s in beta right now and i’m giving it a run. it’s intriguing at this point and it gives me a couple reasons to consider it over firefox (my browser of choice for many years now).

here’s a good article about it in the washington post.

here’s the link to download the beta version.

here’s google’s cool comic book format explaining why you should switch (and the specifics on the technology behind the browser).

doing camp as a youth minister was almost always a hugely fun thing. a week of craziness, fun, fellowship, music, teaching, games, sloppy olympics, teams, competitions, points, one-upping, late nights, and fun relationships.

and vomit.

lise and i did senior high camp at west river in maryland every summer for 5 or 6 years. as camps go, this place was awesome. our fellow leaders were great. the camp leadership was great. the kids who showed up every summer were great. and we always had competitions. kids were broken into teams and points were given in an archaic manner for all sorts of things: winning games, singing songs, random acts of kindness, answering questions, being creative, bringing blow pops for the camp director, asking nicely, etc. the amount of points given were generally arbitrary making the system of awarding them all the more difficult to comprehend.

but at the end of the week, a trophy was given to the team with the most points, so to say there was fierce competition for them is an understatement.

but vomit - no, the first vomit - that was like, the holy grail of points.

we always said that if someone didn’t puke at camp, we weren’t doing our jobs very well.

the year was 2002. it was the third day of camp and we had yet to have any confirmed reports of hurling. tensions were running high as we put our heads together to come up with some gross sort of game that would surely produce the puke we so desired.

but it all proved unnecessary.

as the camp pastor and photographer, i was a popular guy. kids always want their pics taken, right? this particular morning, one young man, whose name is long forgotten, came up to me and said, “scott - you need to stay close by! i’m going to puke for you and i want you to get it on film!” “how are you planning on doing this?” i asked. “i’m drinking a dozen pints of white milk in about 15 minutes. that’s SURE to make me hurl good!” and who was i to argue? every camp-goer knows the rule about humans being unable to drink a gallon of milk in such a short amount of time without the body going into upheaval.

15 minutes later, this kid is looking green. the milk is having its effect and he’s about ready to blow. literally.

he jumps out of his seat, runs out of the dining hall in the middle of games and announcements, positions himself outside at a ninety degree angle, hands on knees, and checks to make sure i’m ready.

and as he puked his guts out, i snapped what must be the greatest camp picture of all time.

it was picture perfect: the solid stream, the intertwining tendrils, the light splatter and eventual pooling of regurgitated milk - of the hundreds of photos i’ve shot in the many years of senior high camp, i kid you not: this is the transcendent picture. pulitzer-worthy? you decide.

he got TONS of points for this, as well he should’ve. that level of dedication to pukedom and senior high camp is rarely found in today’s youth.