Mike’s post asking if maybe we aren’t too sure that “heaven is definite” reminds me of something I once said to a co-worker when we were talking about choosing a collaboration tool: “I found something that I like and so I am using it. I won’t use the inferior corporate standard just for the sake of conformity and in the hopes that version 2 of that tool will someday be better. If some tool is compelling enough in the future I will embrace it if the cost does not outweight the benefit. But I won’t sacrifice present happiness for some rosy future that might just be vaporware. (hmm, does this mean I don’t believe in heaven? I wonder if I’m the first one to call heaven vaporware?)”

I am going to make an unfounded accusation against online personal services, and Yahoo in particular, since I have seen these symptoms there several times. Check out these two personal ads [exhibit 1; exhibit 2]. Pay particular attention to the “in my own words” section. Deja vu? No, it’s identical.

Also notice how the “About My Match” section specifies an absurd search radius, age range, hell- all the criteria are wide open. I believe Yahoo seeds their service with enticing ads that are designed to show up in many guys’ search results and subsequently open up their wallets. Actually, I’m not sure why they even do this anymore. Back in the old days you needed to pay to initiate any sort of contact, but now you can contact someone for free with an “icebreaker.”

But maybe this gives us insight into what Yahoo’s market research indicates their typical male target is looking for: a mid to upper 20s, funny, tv addict, who doesn’t smoke, drinks socially, has pets, makes a lot of money as a secretary, is Christian but only attends services once in a while.

Then again, maybe these two ads are just some bored schmuck dorking around.

In any case, online personals suck, especially if you are a guy. The guy/girl ratio is like 3:1 on most sites. Things are especially dire in Madison, where the guys are good looking and the girls aren’t (curses, can’t find the link anymore, but hotornot.com says Madison is like #11 for guys and #45 for women)

BTW, I found Stiffler’s mom in Madison.

Thank you to my five readers for pressuring me to blog.

According to this highly scientific test, I am “the boy next door.” Which is all well and good, unless I become the creepy “man next door.”

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Apparently, alcohol is a hallucinogen. I have seen the effects on my friend when he was new to drinking: “Tim, my shoes knock on the door of morning”, “All aboard the unlimited elevator”, and other equally nonsensical phrases were uttered by him. Sadly, it seems I am affected too. After a few too many bloody marys last night, I took some notes on a post-it when I got home so that I wouldn’t forget things in the morning. One of my notes asks “What color are you?”

What train of thought leads to a ridiculous question like that?

My friend Joe, on the proper way to brush your teeth: “You have to make a ruckus in your mouth.”

Anyone can be extroverted in an email conversation. I think most people can identify with the fact that they are more likely to say something in an email that they would not say in person. Or that one is more likely to say something interesting in an email. Some would say that this is because email takes face to face out of the equation, and is therefore less intimidating. But I would say that it is because email takes time out of the equation. Given a large amount of time, even the most boring person can think of a good story to tell (or rip off a good story from someone else). But in the immediacy of a face to face conversation, time is not a luxury, and those who can react quickly are labelled extroverts, and those who cannot, introverts.

My disdain for introversion, coupled with the fact that I am introverted, gives rise to my interest in promoting writing-centric communication, such as blogs. I wonder what percentage of bloggers are introverts?

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The woodpecker has an odd strategy for getting food. “Let me bang my head against this hard object in the hopes that there’s food inside.” How is that evolutionarly acceptable? That’s like me trying to use my head on a pi?ata instead of a bat.

Let us take a moment to give thanks for the higher cognitive functions which deliver us from such a cruel fate.

I got this auto-reply out of office message today when I emailed Patrick O’Conner. Yes, I suppose I would have to take off on St. Patty’s day too, if I had such a name.

It turns out our friend Curt is a Buddhist. Here is his philosophy on life:

1) Do no harm to other people
2) However we got here, we are here to be happy
3) Try to accomplish #2 with out breaking #1

I’m reading “The Art of Happiness”. Author Howard Cutler’s analysis of the Dalai Lama’s philosophy bears a striking resemblance to Curt’s:

1) I am a human being
2) I want to be happy and I don’t want to suffer.
3) Other human beings, like myself, also want to be happy and don’t want to suffer.

I suppose a simple philosophy is best. After all, how can you apply your philosophy in the heat of the moment if it is too complicated to remember easily?

Chris Christie’s post about his favorite song (Seasons by Chris Cornell) has inspired me to post likewise. Actually, I would not say that this is my favorite song, after all, there are no absolutes in Tim’s world, but I heard this on the radio a few months ago after a prolonged absence from the airwaves and it really struck me. It’s a very poignant song, and manages to be catchy at the same time. It was stuck in my head for a good solid month.

Mandolin Rain by Bruce Hornsby
The song came and went
Like the times that we spent
Hiding out from the rain under the carnival tent
I laughed and she’d smile
It would last for awhile
You don’t know what you got till you lose it all again

CHORUS:
Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break every time she runs away
Listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go

A cool evening dance
Listening to the bluegrass band takes the chill
From the air till they play the last song
I’ll do my time
Keeping you off my mind but there’s moments
That I find, I’m not feeling too strong
Running down by the lakeshore
She did love the sound of a summer storm
It played on the lake like a mandolin
Now it’s washing her away once again

The boat’s steaming in
I watch the sidewheel spin and I
Think about her when I hear that whistle blow
I can’t change my mind
I knew all the time that she’d go
But that’s a choice I made long ago

There are a few other hits on the album that Mandolin Rain is on, but it is an early album and I like his later stuff much better. “Hot House” and “Harbor Lights” are both excellent albums.

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