Potpourri

THE SIXTH SENSE

Shit. Quite literally, shit. It's everywhere. I'm fortunate to live in a neighborhood that is well off enough where many of the residents own dogs, many of which are far too large to be cooped up in an apartment. But I digress, back to the topic at hand, shit. It's funny, I spent my first month here dodging it on every block and, at times, felt like Indiana Jones during his final venture in the Last Crusade. Now? Forget about it. In fact, I often do. It's not until I have a guest in town I realize how prevalent it is on the sidewalks. I feel, almost as if, I have grown a sixth sense that recognizes dog poo and instinctively avoids it. I can count the number of times I have found myself cursing canines this year on one hand, 3*. And two of those were in the first month here!

Unfortunately I don't believe this talent is something that will serve me in the future (Resume, strength: Great foresight in avoiding dog shit). Also, this talent does not extend out into other areas. It does not keep me from stepping into pot holes, avoiding bums, tracking mud or gum through the house, or hiding from Jehovah's witnesses.

*This number excludes the times I'm running for two reasons: purpose and place. The purpose being that I am so focused on many elements, my step, my stride, my cadence, etc., that if I were to concentrate on not painting my shoes with a fresh coat my running form would go to shit. The place is Park Las Heras, the closest park by far to my house, that I have deemed "dog shit park." Many dog walkers take there dogs here for hours on end so that they don't actually have to walk the dogs, brilliant right? Oh, and the idea of cleaning up about your dog's shit here is non-existent...it's fertilizer right?

I BET SHE GIVES GOOD HELMET

There are quite a few people in the city who ride motorcycles, about 80% of whom I'd guestimate don't wear helmets. The odd thing is, they have their helmets with them. Sometimes helmets are placed in their lap, in between them and the steering device (as we all know this increases it's effectiveness 100 fold). Other times it is worn around the arm, with the hand going through the visor area. Last, and my most favorite, are those that have the helmet on but its only half way on so the visor is facing the sky and the bottom part is on the forehead. This position is just ripe for the helmet to fly off into the air and morph into a invisible force field surrounding the rider.

I can only assume there is some silly law on the book saying motorcycle drivers must have a helmet on them, but falls short of saying they need to wear one. The transitive property could also lead us to believe that cars only need to have the word "airbag" printed on the dash instead of actual airbags. Additionally, seat belts are defined as anyone wearing a belt while sitting.

SHORTS

Smile, You're On Candid Camera

Remember those signs in 7-11 in the 1990's? The ones saying "Smile, Your Being Filmed" or something of the like. I'm pretty sure those made their way out with the cassette tape in the US, but never you worry, they are still thriving in this environment (see previous Argentina is the 80's post). Oddly enough, I was walking by a military post and saw those signs posted inside. Is anybody really going to walk past the dual guards with sub-machine guns and think "hey, I'm gonna rob something, oh no, wait! we're being filmed."

RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE WEEK

I've always wanted to flirt with a hot woman on an airplane.

It doesn't really have to go anywhere, though I think it would be even cooler of a story if it did. This dream has become slightly more than just some far away fantasy, as sometimes when choosing my plane tickets, I try to pick a seat that has a higher probability of having a hot woman in it (it's usually when there's only one other seat in the aisle, as two seats could imply a couple. That or I click on the "hot chick seat" button that airlines are offering nowadays, but that usually costs extra). To this day my dream has yet to come to fruition, though I think I'm handicapping myself. If I chose the aisle seat I would be doubling my odds of a possible encounter, but what kind of weird chooses the aisle seat?