New Slur

“NPR taught me some new slurs” -Partner

A college partner and I wanted to create a new slur. We didn’t have a group we wanted to slur; we were simply linguistically inclined. 

We arrived at the percussive sounds: Ts and Ks. We developed the term “Tunk” (or “Tunq”). No coincidence that it shares phonemes with the word “Cunt”. 

Earlier today, Partner was listening to NPR. Apparently the word “Tonk” has become a slur for Latinos, alluding to the sound of someone getting hit on the head (presumably by a billy club). 

We were off by a vowel.

Don’t Mess with Transit 

How Houston missed the bus. 

A man with a hand cast approaches Partner in the Houston light rail. He points at her and points at himself as if to say “we’re both injured!” 

His opening line: “are you a believer?” 

Partner grunts, “Catholic”. 

He tells her that Jesus will take care of her. See: he prayed and his hand doesn’t hurt. 

— 

Houston is a car-based city. The light rail only navigates along a few specific stretches. Therefore the main people who use the light rail are those who don’t have cars. The selection effects mean the light rail users are mainly poor or homeless. It’s the highest proportion of people talking to themselves or yelling arguments at the empty air that I’ve ever seen. 

So what? 

So it’s a little bit of a spiral to the bottom. The New York City subway definitely has more total homeless or poor or ghost-yellers than the Houston light rail. But the proportion in Houston dwarfs that of New York. And it feels – at least to me – much less safe.  I wonder whether that causes it to only attract those without other options. So it attracts fewer riders – and fewer affluent and influential riders. And therefore the service doesn’t expand? 

Houston doesn’t necessarily need a better light rail. The buses also work well enough, if you’re okay standing in oppressive heat for fifteen minutes. But it’s a notable trait of infrastructure: if you don’t invest early enough, you’re generally better off waiting for the next paradigm. The US is a car culture. Next up: personal helipads? 

And a funny quote from Partner: 

“You know what’s the funniest part of BTUs? The Brits don’t use air conditioning.” 

How not to stare

The cashier at the Family Dollar looked me dead in the eyes throughout our interaction. He asked how my day was and wished me a pleasant evening. He made the sort of jokes that a cashier does to a beloved customer. His pep was, dare I say, manager material. 

The whole experience would have been a perfect example of customer service… 

If Partner hadn’t been beside me. 

See: Partner’s swollen lower face currently makes her resemble a bullfrog. And her nose emits a long white tube that dangles down to a safety pin clipped to her shirt. 

After we left, I asked Partner: “Did he ever make eye contact with you?” 

She said no. 

That was my guess too. 

The guy wasn’t only being friendly to me.
He was covering for his discomfort re Partner. 

When someone looks grotesque, we’re taught not to stare.
That’s a fine starting point, but it misses the purpose.
If Partner always looked like this, staring would be preferable.
This was worse: this was dehumanization. 

Right now, Partner doesn’t mind: She knows she looks weird, but she’s still a human.
Her grotesqueness feels to her like a costume she will soon take off.
But if you were always treated like a non-human, how long would it take for you to doubt it? 

Top Secret Games: Hospital Edition

(Fourth in the Top Secret Games series, after Trader Joe’s, Airport, and Bathroom Line)

  1. If you need immediate assistance, press the “Nurse Call” button and yell “Explosive Diarrhea!”. Someone will come running. This one is especially helpful if you’re hooked up to wires. (This game was told to us by the nurse herself. Never used, but helpful to have in one’s back pocket.) 
  2. If you’re in severe pain and your nurse hasn’t come by in ~2 hours, ring your “Nurse Call” button. The charge nurse will ask what you need. Stay silent. Someone will come immediately. (Also not actually used, but hypothesized to be quite effective.) 
  3. X-ray tech will show you pictures if you’re cool. They also say you’re good to go to the local aquarium with a nasogastric tube. 
  4. There is popcorn in the lobby. They do not have a port for nasogastric tubes. But they will laugh with you when you make the joke. 
  5. If you’re short, children with cancer will think you’re a child and give you a half-wave acknowledgement. Facial swelling and a nasogastric tube might have helped here. 
  6. The home health care people will set you up so you can buy a bunch of stuff. OR, if you ask, the nurse will just grab you the stuff anyway, seemingly for free. 

Houston Hospital

My day today was focused on Partner and healing. Here are a few amusing experiences. 

Partner, en route to the hospital: “You know your city might be too into cars when instructions start ‘go to the parking garage’.”

-–

“You’re so lucky Adam y’all nurse.” -a drive-by comment from a passing nurse. 

Partner, being wheeled back to surgery: “I think we should start seeing other people.” 

Nurse: “That’s just the medication talking.” 

Me: <Laughter. This is a running joke of ours.> 

They wheeled her away so fast that I didn’t even get to respond, “Start?” 

— 

Ben at the Gyro Hut in downtown Houston pronounces it “guy-roh”. And when you say to him “random thing: I’ve always heard it yee-roh”, he says “I’ve heard it pronounced all sorts of ways. I’ve heard ghee-roh, jie-roh, yee-roh. 8 just say guy-roh because that’s the letters”, you fist-bump him and shrug to yourself: fair enough. 

— 

At the hospital, me: “I’m looking for my partner in s701” 

Hospital worker: “Go around there to the bank of elevators, take it up to 7.” 

Me: “Is this not 7?” 

Her: “This is two.” 

Sign at elevator: floor 3 

Nurse: “Let’s adjust your feeding tube.” 

Partner: “Is it duck à l’orange?” 

The above interaction occurred three times, with three different nurses. The commonality? None of them know what duck à l’orange is. Two out of three did get the joke. 

Three unrelated experiences

Today was a travel day. Here are three funnies. 

Me, after entering a packed elevator: “Okay everybody, jump on three. One…” 

Everybody laughs. 

A guy in the back of the elevator: “Two.” 

— 

The woman in the high-viz vest with the light-up wand directing traffic at the Houston airport does not use the standard hand signals. Instead of waving the traffic forward or gesturing with an outstretched hand for stop, she whistles twice for go and whistles twice for stop. The traffic appropriately fails to understand her. 

“Hey what’s your name, Tarzan?” asks a man on the NYC street as I stroll by, shirtless. 

It would appear he answers his own question. 

[Partner says she walked by the same guy later, and he asked, “Hey, where’s Tarzan?” 

Brass Booooooooooo-rmingham

Like a low opinion, not like a ghost. 

Today, a friend taught me the board game Brass Birmingham. There’s one rule in the game – the rule that you can sell any and all of your items in one fell swoop – that I forgot. And my friend mentioned it specifically! During his beginning explanation, he had specifically said, “The first few times we played the game, we got this rule wrong.” 

And the explainer video had mentioned it. 

And I just… forgot. 

It was a pivotal rule. I would have played entirely differently. 

The culprit? 

  1. Me. I was told: fair play. 
  2. The tiny little reference card that the game gives each player. If they phrased the card differently, it would be obvious! 

I used to playtest games. I don’t know how this one slipped by them. A simple rephrasing would have changed the whole game. 

In a game that’s essentially just minutiae, way to tank the whole thing. 

Harrumph. 

I didn’t like this one rule mistake. I liked the rest of the game. In a large, intricate system, one small mistake can sink the ship. 

(Apparently, in reprints they have rephrased it. Grumble grumble.) 

Also, a humorous exchange while Parnter and I packed up our apartment ahead of renovations: 

Me: “Our relationship is really grating on me.”

Partner: “Our relationship is really great!”

Communication is the key to all good relationships.

Soccer Commentator Qualities

What makes a good soccer commentator? 

  1. Know the players on the field by sight, so you can rapidly say things like “Smith passes to Jones; Jones to Marmoset, Marmoset back to Jones…” 
  2. Make predictions based on your previous soccer experience, of the ilk “If France keeps playing like this, it’s going to be a 4-0 game before the half!” and “Johnson, would you call me daft if I said France were the favorites despite being down 4-2?” 
  3. Be human. E.g. “My son texted me at the half to ask why doesn’t England always play like this?” 
  4. When you have a hunch, puil up a statistic: “Y’know, I said earlier that this might be the highest World Cup game in two decades. Turns out it’s the highest scoring game since Sri Lanka vs Pakistan in 1982”. 
  5. Make comparisons to other sports about which you’re familiar: “There’s no defense on either side: they’re playing like the NBA All-Star Game right now!” 

Things not to do: 

  • Go on and on about one topic over and over again. (“Like I said earlier, some people don’t like there being a third place match. But this third place match was excellent.”) 

Having watched the World Cup this year, it turns out the traits of being a good commentator highly correlate with one particular demographic, and anti-correlate with another. So my biggest suggestion to you, should you want to be a good soccer commentator, is: 

  • Don’t be American. 

— 

An unrelated musing: 

Why are nachos better than salad? 

  1. Nachos: the best stuff is on the top so you eat it first. 
  2. Salad: the best stuff falls to the bottom. 

When you’re hungrier, food tastes better. So sequencing the food to have the best food first (nachos) is better than having the best food last (salad). 

Also the crunch. 

[Partner says she wants Nachos to be more like salad. I think she’s insane.] 

The Grasshopper turned Ant

(Only in one area)

I never understood weightlifting. Lots of pain, no obvious gain. 

Partner loves weightlifting. Her spirit animal is the ant. In graduate school, she could bench press more than her bodyweight, a particularly impressive feat for an estrogen-powered life form. (Among non-professional female powerlifting competitions, benching one’s bodyweight is generally enough to medal.) 

Earlier today, I benched 155lbs for 5 reps. A new personal record. Not very impressive for anyone who has lifted weights for a while. Still, I yipped with glee. I remember the day when I broke 135lbs (one 45lb plate on each side of the 45lb bar). Now, I crank out 4 sets of 145lbs with no trouble. 

“I remember the day when X was hard. Now, X is easy.” ← a wonderful lesson of weightlifting. 

A coaching client of mine has felt incredibly stressed this week. He tells me he wishes not to feel this way every week. I told him he won’t, for two key reasons: 

  1. If he truly wants to feel less stress, he can grow slower. It’s a real option. (One he’s not taking 😉)
  2. As you improve, the former difficulty feels easy. 

I’ve promised Partner that, when I can bench press my bodyweight, I will bench press her. We might be six months or a year away from that day. But one beautiful trait of the gym: if you show up and do the work, you will see the results. 

Lots of pain, no obvious gain? After a few months every day, the gain is unmistakable. Once I learned to breathe properly, the whole experience became enjoyable. 

And the pain? You mean the intense difficulty that only lasts for a few seconds? You call that pain? I call it fun. 

Arguing On Goal

Inspired by Mbappé’s miss at 55:25 in today’s France/Morocco game or 6:41 in this highlight video

Partner thinks that she and I had an argument earlier today. She is wrong. 

Partner thinks soccer players should miss more goals. She believes soccer players tend to be overly hesitant, and the best players (including Mbappé and Messi) shoot the ball sooner rather than waiting for the perfect moment that never comes. 

I also think that soccer players should miss more goals. I just think the manner in which they should rectify this mistake is more precise than her suggestion. I think they should miss goals by kicking the ball at the goal. (I.e. I believe missed shots on goal are good, not merely missed shots.)

When you kick a ball out of the end line, your opponents receive a goal kick. That’s bad. However, when you kick a ball toward the goal, sometimes it hits an opposing player or the goalie and ricochets back into play. In those circumstances, your team has an opportunity to regain possession or a rebound goal.

Both Partner and I agree that soccer players should shoot more balls. Both of us agree soccer players are overly hesitant. I take her insight one step further by only respecting an increase in shots that are on goal. 

Earlier today, Partner thought we had an argument. Now, I’m going to go tell her she was wrong.