I love walking Blue early in the morning. Summers are great we can walk at 5:30 and it is plenty warm and light; and at that hour I don’t run the risk of him ripping anyone’s face off. He’s that vicious.
There is a Segueway um, walking? tour outfit that HQs out of a house down the street. This morning I pondered their signage. Team building? When I think team building, I think ropes courses, paddle board yoga or pole dancing classes. You know, something that pushes you out of your comfort zone and forces you to bond
commisserate with your coworkers.
I dunno, I just don’t think team building when I look at those things. Peter Segal from NPR’s Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me put it best. The Segueway was supposed to “revolutionize” how we got around, even how cities are built, but they are tantamount to a $5000 propeller beanie. Awesome.
If you can stand you can walk; and you should walk if you can, right?
I’ll admit that I’m scared of those things. I had a bad experience.
Pretty much me.
Back when those things first came out and they were still marginally cool, I saw a guy tooling around town on one. I offered to let him ride my electric bike if I could take a spin on his $5000 Propeller Beanie. He was nice and let me, although he declined to ride my bike.
I got on the thing and familiarized myself with it. Lean forward to go fast, stand up straight to slow down and stop. One of the handlebars twisted to turn left and right. I got going down the alley on it while Mr. Niceguy talked on the phone (I think I actually know him, now that I think of it, but I don’t think he realizes it was me).
I tried to get it to go a little faster and got confused between a motorcycle’s throttle (which you twist on the handlebar) and the Segueway’s direction control (which you twist on the handlebar) and I started heading towards the brick wall and of course I leaned into it because that’s what you do when you are tense and I pretty much rammed his $5000 toy into a brick wall while he watched in awe.
He was super nice about it, though maybe a bit tense. It started up again (thank God) and I left in a flurry of apologies.
Time to cut the crap.
Look at this lovely pile of crap!
Swamp cooler pads that don’t work. Water just shoots straight through them. It’s a good thing we’ve been storing them in the garage for several years. I mean, we might need defective parts that ruin the floors with moisture, right? TRASH.
Stupid ass seat thing that goes in your car. I think it has magnets in it to align the, uh, the metal in your spine? TRASH.
A fan that has clearly gotten tons of use. TRASH.
A giant first aid kit that has a few bandages in it. I took out the useful supplies and TRASHED the rest.