Subject to Change

I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into. Admittedly, I’d had a bit to drink.

For some reason, a very drunk Mexican threatened to kidnap me and take me to Mexico “for a good time.” I couldn’t tell if he was serious, or if he could remember my face later on. Just a few short minutes before that, he was telling me that we were friends.

Seriously… No more adventuring to border towns. That was just plain creepy. And, if I should fail to report back for a while, you know which country to start searching in.

An Ol’ Broad told me that my site is MIA.

I know it’s probably pointless to ask, but has anyone else had trouble reaching this URL? She says it comes up with a blank page, or just my side bar at best.

I haven’t used Firefox in a few weeks. Does it look ok in that browser?

Good news!

You can still read my blog at the Dept. of Veteran’s Affairs! Sub2change.blogspot.com is blocked, but I haven’t been posting there in over a year.

My guess is they got the list from Wispolitics, which still had the old site address the last time I checked. Thank heavens nobody over there is missing out on all this quality blogging!

H/T: Owen

P.S. If you’re on the list, drop me a line if you want to guest post here. I’ll be your backdoor to the WDVA.

I should write bumper stickers.

Aaron’s Law #2: Never order a bratwurst if you’re south of Chicago.

This one was handed down to me from a former co-worker. I’ve finally proved it for myself. The brat I ordered in Phoenix was spongier that the yellow poppy-seed bun it was served on. It wasn’t terrible, but it definitely wasn’t right.

A former co-worker of mine had assembled a list of rules to apply to our profession. I’ve pestered him for years to publish [So-and-so]’s Laws of process control. I think that it’s time for me to begin writing my own, instead. I might steal a few of his, though, because they were so darned perfect.

Aaron’s Law #1: A job well done means you’ll be asked to do it again.

Always take care when accepting a new task. Be sure to consider whether this is what you want to be doing for the rest of your life. If the answer is no, you might want to avoid giving anyone the impression that you have a knack for this type of work.

I’m on my way back to El Paso, because the last trip went so well. This time I’m looking forward to it. I know what to expect, and I didn’t have anything planned for next week either. The timing is good and I’m hoping that we can make some real progress on the project.

At the very least, I’m going to find out where the good food is.

Don’t ask me to spell words for you. I hate it.

First of all, my brain isn’t programmed to spell aloud. I need to see words. I’m not much of a mental math person, either. Asking me to spontaneously spell words for you causes my brain to audibly shift gears. Whatever I was thinking about at the time is totally lost at that point.

The part I really hate, though, is the inevitable follow-up question: “Are you sure? That doesn’t seem right.” Well, if you had a preferred way of spelling it, then why did you bother me?

I took time off from my own happy world to give you the best answer I had. Maybe you’re just not ready to accept that I might be smarter than you. I’m fine with that, as long as you quit bugging me. You can’t have it both ways.

And, of course, one sarcastic answer isn’t usually enough to indicate that the answer booth is closed. There are more words that need spelling, aren’t there? Of course there are. Buy a dictionary.

I’m more than happy to take a cheap ’shot at ‘Starbuck’s expen’se. They owe me ’so many hour’s of my life, that I’ve lo’st track.

A friend of our’s ’sent a picture of thi’s ’sign, announcing their new hour’s at the HWY 100 and Greenfield location. ‘She ’say’s that it bothered her ’so much that ’she complained to management and called corporate.

Apparently, they don’t care how embara’s’sing thi’s i’s, ’so it’s time to point and laugh.

‘So much for ‘Starbuck’s being a ’sanctuary for intellectual’s.

I returned from El Paso late Thursday night, a day early. I requested the earlier flight because I’d completed everything we needed to do, and more. I wanted to get home in time for a camping trip that we’d planned with friends.

There are times when my job can be really amusing. One of the tasks I voluteered to take care of was to figure out how we could get about thirty remote radio sites communicating. On my last day in El Paso, I found myself off roading in the desert, on airport property, in a “Harley orange” Chevy Aveo. I guess it’s a good thing I took the insurance policy.

I’m still unwinding from the trip, and our little vacation. Expect to see more on this soon, though. I met a woman on the flight out to El Paso who told me some really interesting things about her company in Mexico. Some of the things she said were very surprising to me, and I think they’ll surprise you a bit, too.

Tom McMahon has an idea to stop illegal immigration.

I’ve got a suggestion to improve it. On the same day I read that post, I was enjoying a Bud Light (that’s what passes for beer down here) and jaw-jacking with the construction team. I spotted a roadrunner on a nearby fence, and got out my binoculars to see it.

The guys I was hanging out with told me that roadrunners are mean. They said that there used to be cats on site. One day they saw a cat chasing a roadrunner. Then, in comical fashion the roadrunner turned on the cat and chased it right back where it came from. Apparently, the cat was pretty freaked out by the whole ordeal.

I would think that a bird capable of catching snakes and fighting off an animal four times its size might be a better border guard.