6:50 PM–I arrived at Chez Chef to find JimB, Zyada, rjk, Aglarond, and ExTank already in attendance. I expressed regrets at not arriving earlier, and noted that the effects of LARPing out in the damp and chill had had to be dealt with: “An hour ago, I was waterlogged, grouchy, and smelled like a troll’s gym shorts.” (Note: this is the fantasy-under-the-bridge-type troll, not a net troll. Those undoubtedly smell worse.)
Chef Troy: “So, you’re not grouchy anymore?”
7:00–Insurance scam at Hawkwood discussed. The term “regimental” as applied to kilt-wearers is commented upon, as well as a first-time bekilted fellow (ExTank) being checked on by a lady at a Faire. Aglarond holds forth on the proper way to wear a kilt–“No stitches.”
rjk tells us about a British comedy “Carry On at Khyber” (?) in which a Scottish wimp in the British army is revealed to the enemy to be wearing shorts under his kilt. Emboldened by this supposed evidence that the Scots weren’t as tough as they thought, the enemy attacked. Large-scale demonstration of “regimental” style ensued.
This led to British comedy in general. Wallace & Gromit give ExTank nightmares–“Those little clay figures are on acid, man.” He did an excellent imitation of the “Wallace smile” and explained that he never saw Chicken Run because he couldn’t bear to see that evil smirk on a beak. The penguin is disturbing.
7:15–“McPenguin burger, extra lettuce! Special orders don’t upset us!” Aglarond wonders how he managed to miss that Bloom County strip. Why did Bloom County die? Why do cartoonists quit? The consensus is that sufficiently principled cartoonists quit before they run out of ideas–before the strip becomes an undead, unfunny slave of the syndicates. (I think.) We all miss snowgoons, though.
Where are Lynn and Palmyra?
Laying on of hands healing (for machines) came up. It seems that all of us techie types have, at some point, astonished or cowed the masses (OK, one or two spectators) with our magical powers. JimB repaired a computer by scattering a handful of chicken bones over the case. I diagnosed a TV problem by casting runes upon it. rjk passed a hand over a dumb terminal that was refusing to come up, and it returned to life. Do we possess mysterious powers over technology? No, but we sure capitalize on familiar symptoms and coincidences. (Or we deliberately set up a problem that can actually be fixed by laying hands on it–like my one-geartooth-out-of-time CD player.)
7:30–Grace arrives. The impact of drugs–particularly alcohol and caffeine–on learning math and language skills is discussed. ExTank speaks of ordering beer in a German pub by pointing at the menu…then having a detailed political discussion with the bartender (in German) a few beers later. I informed all and sundry that sufficient caffeine will produce blank spots in your memory just as alcohol can. One of those blank spots holds my memory of studying for a probability exam. I walked into the exam the next day unsure of what the test was even about…and aced it. (I still didn’t know what it was about, though.)
7:50–Deciding that anyone who was late could have leftovers, we trooped in to partake of the most excellent spread prepared by Chef (whose screen name I shall never disparage). A gap appears in my notes at this point, as I was much too busy stuffing my face to talk or take notes. Conversation lagged anyway, being replaced by chewing noises.
8:35–Lynn arrives. Notes resume with ExTank telling us about Staff Sergeant Peretti (sp?), whose exploits include commenting to a band of Bedouin about some Israeli equipment (<paraphrase>“We’re using Jewish stuff to kill your Muslim brothers over there.” </paraphrase> ) and peeling out of line in an M1 to pursue some annoying infantrymen during a MILES (military laser-tag) exercise. He also explains that the tank crews spent a lot of time being very bored during Desert Storm…that’s why they chased camels with their tanks. Iraqi surrenders came up–Ag mentioned the soldiers who surrendered to the chaplain.
Why the hell did MTV stop playing videos? MTV thoroughly dissed. Inexplicable quote in the notes: “Nothing like 6 hopped-up teenagers sitting around playing air guitar to ‘Eruption’!” BNL’s Krispy Kreme Song discussed. Are Krispy Kreme donuts really better than your common local donut? Consensus is “not generally”.
9:00–“My home town is smaller than yours.” Teenage entertainment in small towns–looping. This consists of driving to one end of town, circling through a parking lot, driving to the other end of town, looping through another parking lot–lather, rinse, repeat. Everyone else got to loop in fast food and bowling alley parking lots; in my home town, we used the grocery store and the police station (assuming at least one of the two cop cars was gone, so that there was room in the lot).
10:00–HS plays, Boy Scouts, and the attendant drug cultures were discussed. It’s fun to be one of two sound guys hissing conflicting cues to a stoned football player on stage on opening night. It’s also amusing to persuade a drunk cheerleader that bra & panties is the right costume.
10:15–Ag says that the hokey BSA rituals seem really profound after you’ve taken enough hits off the “peace pipe”. We didn’t have Boy Scouts back home–we lived far enough out in the back woods that instead of getting merit badges for wilderness navigation and survival, we just succeeded in reaching school. Ag recounts touching off bonfires with a fire arrow while wearing the full regalia and stoned–the arrow seems to fly forever, just like in a bad Kevin Costner flick that shall not be named.
ExTank supplements Ag’s stories, but doesn’t supply any anecdotes that I remember.
10:30–In the course of relating a story about torching a tarantula with WD-40, ExTank reveals that he’s arachnophobic, so of course we discuss various arthropods that people keep as pets. I describe vinegaroons (venomless spiderlike critters that emit puffs of acidic dust from anal sacs as a defense) and solifugids, which crush their (often quite large) prey in their mandibles. This led to black emperor scorpions, and another Desert Storm story from ExTank:
Tank crews had 4-man Bedouin tents, so they had sand floors and no particular protection from scorpions. ExTank took this information to heart, and it paid off when they were packing up. One of his tentmates had left a <insert some military object that a scorpion would like to hide under that I can’t remember here> on the ground. ET flipped it away with some long utensil and found a 6-inch Black Emperor scorpion under it. He “screamed like a 12-year-old girl” and emptied the clip in his .45 into it. By the time the rest of the camp arrived, their was nothing left but a shallow depression in the sand, littered with little black bits of chiton.
<image in Balance’s mind>ExTank standing on a camp stool pulling up the hem of a skirt a la an old Tom & Jerry cartoon, shrieking and repeatedly firing a .45 at the one remaining pincer on the ground.</image in Balance’s mind>
I vaguely recall ExTank talking about someone running over an abandoned Mercedes in a tank, and a guy shooting a feral dogs while taking a leak right after the cease-fire (causing loud ratcheting noises as numerous tank crews readied the 50-cals), but I’m fresh out of details. I also can’t really recount much that went on at the other end of the table–considerable laughing was involved, though. Everyone else (assuming they eventually drag themselves in here) can fill in the stuff I’ve missed.
Thanks again to Chef and Mrs. Chef for a wonderful meal, and for hosting a most enjoyable gathering.
He said we didn’t need anything and I took that to mean I didn’t need to bring the ice. Fortunately we didn’t need it.
Harumph! :mad: