Putting the "Pee" in "Problem"

There are some things in life that are absolutely certain, things that can’t be helped. Inasmuch as the sun will rise tomorrow, the world will continue to turn on its axis, and our planet will continue its ceaseless course around the sun (sans any cataclysmic extraterrestrial screw-ups), Mother Nature will keep calling. And when she calls, man, you better answer, or else. Typical woman.

Honestly, the truth of the matter is that, sometimes, you just gotta go. Sometimes even in public. Well, a public restroom, that is. We’ve all experienced those times where we have to excuse ourselves: sometimes in the middle of a conversation, sometimes during an important meeting. Oddly enough, whatever cosmic power happens to be in charge of potty breaks seems to know the most inopportune moments to burst in and intrude on our peaceful daily routines.

I believe, as a fellow human, it is only right and proper for me to endeavor to make those unexpected encounters much more enjoyable. It is also my belief that we of the male population are often short-changed in the department of comfort, especially when it comes down to the use of the urinal.

The urinal. Whose idea was that, anyway? “Hey, I got an idea! Guys have the ability empty the tank standing up, so why don’t we save some money and install large sinks in the wall where they can do their business? Better yet, let’s put them right next to each
other, without barriers, so that patrons will be able to have a nice conversation about the weather while relieving themselves!” To make matters worse, urinals are usually only placed in odd numbers, leaving one poor unfortunate soul playing Monkey in the Middle. Such conditions can turn such a simple human act as taking a whiz into an unspeakable nightmare.

But, my friends, I do bring you good tidings: our horrendous situation can be made more pleasurable (or, at the very least, not as gross) by following some simple behavioral guidelines. I assure you, if every God-fearing man on this great green earth were to follow
these commandments I here present, life would be, in the words of modern composer Frank Wildhorn, “’relieved’ of all that is unbearable”. With these sentiments expressed, I now present for your kind consideration: The Thee Commandments of Waste Removal Etiquette.

Rule Number One: Wait Your Turn. Now, by waiting, I don’t mean standing around tapping your foot or whistling, and I certainly don’t mean “getting in line” right behind someone. A person in midstream is always, always, a person who needs his space. Be very careful when and how you approach someone during urinal use. I recommend that if you poke your head into the restroom and see all of the stations are full, just wait outside. Relieving oneself is not by any means a relatively lengthy activity and you shouldn’t have to wait long. This is actually directly advantageous to you, because you would have had to wait anyway, whether or not you actually did the waiting inside the Room of Doom. Much better to wait outside then in a smelly bathroom, wouldn’t you say? This not only adds to your comfort, but to the comfort of those currently doing their penance inside.

Rule Number Two: Keep Urinal Conversation to a Minimum. Now, the word “minimum” in this context actually means, “don’t do it at all, duh!” Seriously, people, when I’m making my donation to the nearest water treatment plant, the last thing I want to happen is for some conversation-starved individual to swagger up, take his place beside me, and proceed to tell me about his day/the weather/his wife/whatever…while I am taking a pee. I want you to think about that for a second. Read it again, if you have to. There has got to be something terribly wrong with making small talk with someone while they are in one of mankind’s most vulnerable positions. Honestly, there are some moments when a man has to be left alone. Furthermore, to make matters even weirder, many men are more inclined to talk to you while lined up at the de-watering hole than, say, standing in the checkout line at the supermarket. There are moments in life when a pleasant chat with a stranger is welcome. Standing in line happens to be one of those moments. Standing at the trough with your pants unbuttoned is not. Don’t get me wrong, being outgoing is generally a good thing. Just remember, there’s a time and a place for everything.

Rule Number Three: Be Modest. Come on, people. This is the simplest of my already extremely simple rules, yet it seems to be the one least followed. Consider this for a moment: if I’m outside on break, standing in front of a busy street, and suddenly old Mother Nature sends me a message, what would happen if I decided to drop my pants then and there? I’d probably get arrested. For what, you ask? For public nudity. Ask yourself this question: if there is something wrong with people seeing what they inevitably would see in this case, why is it suddenly A-OK when standing shoulder-to-
shoulder in a public restroom? See where I’m going here? That is why I ask-no, I beg of you, for the sanity of mankind, and for the preservation of your own pride and humanity: be sure and stick the entire pelvis in, so you aren’t front-flashing your neighbor. Now, I don’t know how secure you are in your own manhood, and to be honest, I really don’t care. That’s far from the issue. I can guarantee you this much with all certainty: most other males you encounter in a restroom setting would rather not see your where-the-sun-don’t-shine. As for those that do want a peek, you probably don’t want them looking anyway. Whoever’s in charge of male waste management must have been sniffing Sharpies when they decided urinals don’t need barriers. So, in the meantime, we men have to make do with what we have. So please, make sure that the “what you have” of which I speak is well out of sight.

Well, that concludes my three urinal use commandments. If these extremely simple rules are followed to the letter, I can promise you, the world will be a much happier place. Well, we’re not exactly talking bunny rabbits and rainbows here (or are we…?),
but at least man’s grievous situation will become a little more bearable. In the meantime, I’ll be using the stall, thank you very much.

- Jude

Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Haunted Recycle Bin

Wednesday morning. 1:27 AM. I am awake, of course. I always am. Just messing around, surfing the net, updating my blog. Ya know, the usual stuff. I had just finished deleting some old copies of an article that I no longer needed. I was about to empty them out of the Recycle Bin when I noticed something strange. My Recycle Bin had completely disappeared! To clarify, the little label saying “Recycle Bin” was still there, the program still worked fine, but the cute little see-through trash receptacle had given me the slip!

I wish I could say this was the first time this has happened. However, in all honesty, the Case of the AWOL Recycle Bin is a relatively frequent occurrence. Usually, restarting my session of Windows is enough of a shock to bring the wayward prodigal back to Daddy. This time, however, I was finished. I pay that little guy far too much to let him just walk out on the job.

I ran a quick Google search, and within 30 seconds, I had found what I was looking for. Apparently, this is an all-too common problem for users of Windows Vista (of which I am one). With a few quick, easy steps, I was able to bring my little friend home to my desktop safe and sound.

Not being the sort to let things go easily, I had to take some time to think about what I had just done. I, a user of the latest and most advanced Windows software to date, had just been forced to put the Recycle Bin back in its proper place. Funny, I thought to myself. I don’t seem to remember having that problem with any of the older versions of Windows I’ve used. Frustrating, really.

But that’s not all. Many, many, many of my favorite older programs and games out rightly refuse to work once I introduce them to Windows Vista. Could it be that my sulky, goth kid copy of Diablo II: Lord of Destruction just doesn’t get along well with the clean-cut, preppy Vista? Perhaps. However, I consider it far more likely that while more emphasis was put on style, flow, and (most of all) newb-friendliness in this new Windows edition, significantly less was placed on actual performance and user-friendliness in terms of, say, your average person who is adequately familiar with computers.

Now, if I happen to feel a certain way about The Son of XP, I am loathe to think what opinions those more intimately familiar with technology may have on the subject. I have read some articles by people who know what they’re talking about (or at least pretend to, which always counts for something, I suppose), and believe me you, it ain’t pretty.

I know that pretty much all we can do is get used to disappearing Recycle Bins, endless interrogations (courtesy Windows Security Nazi…erm-Center) about whether or not our favorite programs should be open, and late-night searches for a fix - any fix - for the latest bug or compatibility problem. That’s the fun thing about monopoly, isn’t it? And however near and dear to our hearts I’m sure those traits will become, the only thing that makes them easier to swallow right now is the fact that they’re wrapped in a pretty sugary package of “user-friendly (I’m-pretty-sure-Bill-Gates-is-a-communist)” graphical interfaces.

Geez…at this rate, I may even convince myself to support biting the bullet (or the Apple) and boycotting Longhorn altogether.

The operating system, I mean. Not the restaurant. Longhorn Steakhouse is gold. -_-

- Jude

Disclaiming

Welcome, one and all, to the maiden voyage of my brand new blog. Allow me some explanation to clear up any confusion your mind may have accquired:



I have been wanting an excuse to start a "real" blog for some time now. I have been the long-time holder of a Xanga account that has been in and out of use over the years. My original intent was to begin a regular blog that was more focused on the content of the writing (the "meat", if you will), my own virtual "summer home" upon which I could cast my observations and ideas for the world at large (or at least... at... small...) to soak in.



Writing has long been a passion of mine, and this blog is simply the latest outlet for my thoughts (Notepad just doesn't do it for me anymore). This blog will, for the most part, focus on my observations about life, and serve to deliver to you (the reader) my opinions on it.



"Jude" is a shortening of a real-life nickname of mine. A nickname for a nickname, if you will. My "longer nickname" (Judicator), was long ago ripped off shamelessly from a computer game which shall remain nameless. The meaning of the word "judicator" is "one that acts as a judge" (thanks to Dictionary.com), and that is what I shall attempt to do here: jot down what I see, and pass judgement on it. In so doing, my hope is to entertain and amuse you, and maybe (just maybe) help you think about life in a new and refeshing light!



Yuck. I hope not.



- Jude