Harebrained Schemes

Meaning no offense to the noble hare, I want to talk about crazy, wild, improbable schemes, and how much fun they can be.  Who knows what these two ducks are about to make with their five thousand pounds of wool felt, inflatable palm tree, disco ball, grandfather clock, steel girder, twine, ping-pong balls, croquet mallet, and old bicycle parts?  But you just know it's going to be something impressive.  My harebrained scheme of the day was concocted with my coworker and involved planning to cook large quantities of chili in crock pots.  The part that made it feel like a scheme was our carefully written-up "Chili Worksheet" and the official chili project folder we created to file the worksheet in.  Pretty much anything can turn into a harebrained scheme if you have the necessary expansive mindset and willingness to be silly.  In such cases, I am more than happy to put in extra work for no discernible outcome other than the sublime conflation of the serious and the absurd.  The resulting confusion often leads to childlike laughter, and that on its own is more than worth the effort.

Wandering Around Big Buildings

Today I went to a panel discussion on employment law and undocumented workers in the evening.  My friend helped organize it, and it was held in a building I was not too familiar with.  It turned out to be easy to find (and an informative and interesting discussion), but as I walked the halls I was reminded of how much I enjoy wandering around in large, unfamiliar buildings.  If I'm not in a hurry, I find it a lot of fun to walk aimlessly around, seeing how the hallways and stairwells connect, peering through the odd window here and there, perhaps emerging on a landing overlooking the lobby.  It satisfies my curiosity and my childlike enthusiasm for small adventures.  Wandering can almost be meditative.  Even among crowds of strangers, I can enjoy solitary contemplation and fond reminiscence.  My favorites are buildings with unusual architecture or old buildings from the time when institutions were built to last, with marble floors and columns, carved archways, intricately cast brass grates, and monumental main doors.  Makes me feel small, and feeling small frees me to think and to wander.

Automatic Car Wash

Almost a week ago I noticed that my car, which was parked under a tree, had suddenly become covered in bird poop.  Not a small quantity or a light speckling, but a full-on Jackson Pollock-style assault.  The depth and coverage was almost artful.  But still kinda gross.  Somehow for the next six days I did not have a chance to wash the poor thing.  We had a bit of rain one day that washed away some of the mess, but my car was still far from presentable.  Yesterday I swung by a gas station with an automatic car wash, but it was out of order.  Today I finally could take it no longer, and sought out another automated car wash.  It was, as always, a glorious adventure.  Automatic car washes are perhaps extravagant, but they give you the childlike sensation of being on a magical voyage through a foamy sea.  There is water everywhere and you can't see out the windows, and there are loud noises that approach and retreat.  The car even shakes a bit from the water pressure.  And then, in no time at all, you roll away in a car that's sparkling clean.  Pretty great.  Of course, about two minutes after I emerged from the car wash, a torrential downpour began.  Oh well.  I'm sure that stuff was caked on good enough that it needed something more than rain to get it all off.  It's just like two car washes for the price of one.  What a steal!