My job as an assistant manager at an electronics store has the advantage of letting me play with shiny electronic gadgetry all day long (in theory- the reality is 9-10 hours of customers, sales, paperwork, and so on). My specialty, such as it is, is Computers (more specifically, computer games), followed by GPS Satellite Navigation Systems, along with Home Entertainment.
The thing is, we also sell electronics components- rather a lot of them- and the honest truth is that I know absolutely nothing at all about resistors, capacitors, diodes, bridging rectifiers, circuitboards, or any of the other stuff that electronics people are supposed to know.
I can manage simple enquiries by virtue of looking them up in the computer (ie, “Do you have any 1kW 8 Ohm resistors?”), but when people come to me and say “I’m trying to build a matter transference regulator… what sort of capacitor should I be using? Do I need the 25kW or the 42kW resistors, and should I go for oxygen-free copper cable and silver solder, or should I use tin solder and shielded RF cabling?” my eyes glaze over… You may as well be addressing me in Xhosa or Etruscan for all the sense it makes. I usually politely tell them “I’m the computer guy” and go and find one of the guys who does know something about electronics. (For the record, I understand voltage, wattage, and amperage, so I’ve got no trouble selling AC adaptors etc to people).
So there’s my secret shame- I’m the assistant manager at an electronics store and I know bugger all about electrical componentry.
I work in a bank. But I’m really bad at math. I rely on my calculator a lot more than I should.
When counting money back, a fifty will throw me off balance, because I’m used to even numbers (120, 140, 160, etc.) Having to switch from 120 to 170 messes me up.
Many people can look at a transaction, or a group of transactions, and just *see * the debits and credits in their head. I always have to really think about it, even write it down, before I fully comprehend the ins and outs.
My father’s parents emigrated from Palermo, Sicily. Grandma Bodoni taught my mother how to cook Italian dishes, so her Johnny would be well-fed. I grew up with all sorts of Italian dishes to eat. However, I preferred Chef Boy-Ar-Dee to the homemade stuff, and only when I was an adult, did I learn to enjoy pasta. Turns out that Grandma and Mama always put a lot of anise in the sauce, and I hate anise. My father thought about disowning me when he saw me eating a PB&J instead of spaghetti when I was growing up.
I still sort of like canned beef ravioli. But I don’t say so in earshot of Daddy.
I’m much more of a stereotypical helpless female than I care to admit. When I was about 9 I resolved to be a capable, independent woman, and asked my Dad to teach me how to change a tyre and do DIY type stuff like drilling around the house. Now I’m “big” I’m useless at most of those things and have always had to get a man (or a capable woman) in to help me.
I’m supposedly, “The smart one.” I read a lot of history and other documentary type books. I watch The Discovery Channel and History Channel in preference to sitcoms. I actually like reading long books with no pictures and small type on scientific subjects.
And then I can’t remember any of it but the broadest info. Dates? People? Places? Nope.
It’s shameful how often I read a thread here and know that I’ve read the subject but forgotten the answer. Or know the answer but not authoritatively and can’t produce a cite.
I am Jewish by birth and if the choice was “gefilte fish” or “a poke in the eye with a sharp stick” I’d take a look at the stick.
The fact of the matter is that gefilte fish is a joke food. Nobody actually eats it, it’s just a disgusting concoction that we like to serve to non-Jewish guests at Passover to see if they’ll really eat some. When it happens the cook adds a tally mark to a chalkboard hidden in the kitchen and the family has a good laugh about it when everybody has gone home.
I am convinced that the same thing is true of haggis. It’s just a gigantic national practical joke played on tourists who like to feel that they’re tasting some local delicacy. Meanwhile the Scots are having actual food made with ingredients other than “sheep’s stomach” and washing it down with a pint at the pub. If you sneak up quietly you’ll hear conversations like this:
“Mary got her cousin from New York to eat some haggis!”
(ten minutes of hysterical laughter from population of Scotland)
Anyone who tells you otherwise is part of a disinformation campaign. I predict at least one person claiming to be (a) Jewish and (b) liking gefilte fish will post here. Ditto with the Scottish/haggish conspiracy.
Matzoh’s not bad with butter or charoses. You only have to eat the stuff one week each year.
I just checked the box of Pesach matzoh I have in the office. Tastes exactly like it did when I put it there in 2004.
They had gifilte fish at the synagogue here. Everyone looked at me when I didn’t eat it. Maybe it is some kind of test.
Seriously, perhaps we had gifilte fish and matzoh ball soup at home because my step daughter liked it. But then, she ate Chef Boy Ardee.