The Return of the King
I heard it. The squeaky wheel of the cart belonging to the vending machine dude. (I'm sorry, the Vendor Engineer.) I walked into the hall acting like I had a work related purpose. Sure enough, there he was. I prepared my verbal salvo meant to bring about the return of the Nectar of the Gods I had been missing.
The Vendor Engineer's head hung low and his shoulders were slumped as he pulled the dolly full of sugary goodness behind him. I almost felt bad for getting ready to trouble him with something he probably didn't care about. No matter, Daddy needed his drink.
I inhaled and opened my mouth, my Coke question cocked and ready to fire, but I stopped. A crate of Coke sat at the top of the Engineer's load like a triumphant Caesar returning to Rome. I wanted to sing, to cheer, to waive the olive branch. "All hail the Coca-Cola!"
I stepped aside with respect as the Engineer passed by with his precious cargo. The following minutes in my office passed by like an eternity. I held a crisp dollar bill in my hands and bounced in my chair with anticipation. When enough time had passed, I walked to the break room and up to the machine: my glorious harbinger of refreshment.
The smile slid off my face. Still present was the hand scrawled label reading Dr. Pepper. Dr. Pepper! Where did all that Coke go? How cruel could the vending machine dude be? He waived salvation in my face only to yank it away like teasing a cat with string. It was now my turn for a hanging head and slumped shoulders. Yet with my head at this low angle I saw it: a lighthouse beacon bringing me through the fog.
The very bottom button displayed an ice cold Coke. It was the most beautiful sight. The machine ate my crisp dollar and rewarded me with Cola Heaven. All was now right in the world. Of course, the folks who liked the orange juice that once occupied that spot are screwed, but so what?
The king has returned.
Yoda
Trying to find missing CDs a while back, I found an old disc of Star Wars sound effects. We're talking Windows 3.X old. It was meant to add Star Wars sound effects to various Windows events. All the files are in .WAV so I added them to my computer a work. This is something I am technically not allowed to do. I'm also not allowed to write this blog on my work PC either. Meh.
Darth Vader now threatens me when I log off. C-3PO freaks out about the Rancor when I encounter an error. Han Solo warns me with a "transmission commencing" when I am getting a fax.
And every time I log in, Yoda asks me, "I am wondering, why are you here?"
Me too, Yoda. Me freaking too.
Quick Note
Take a look at a couple of my pages. First is Band Names and second is Look Ma, I'm on TV. Some interesting, fun questions, I think.
PS - You will always be able to find the links to these and other pages up top or on the side.
Mrs. Moses, Mao, and the Mormons
I have been enjoying the Olympics, especially watching Michael Phelps and his record breaking gold heist. I didn't, however, watch the Opening Ceremonies. I didn't really care to see a bunch of dorks in white suits running around forming various images like a marching band without the band. Also, not too heart broken about missing the edited fireworks. What kind of a sorry country edits fireworks for TV so the the rest of the world thinks they were better than they were? A pinko Commie country, that's what kind.
On the night of the Opening Ceremonies, we were out at the Olive Garden, thanks to a generous contribution from the 'Rents. While waiting for our table a woman as old as Moses shuffled out, talking to her grandchild about how the only thing she likes about the Olympics are the Opening Exercises. She coudn't give a rat's about the thrilling competition, the triumph of the human spirit, or countries coming together in the name of sports.
I personally don't buy that crap, but that's what the Olympics are selling. I wasn't feeling love for my fellow man when Phelps and Company punked France after all their trash talking. I just jumped up and down yelling at France (yes, the entire country) to stick that in their pipe and smoke it. Of course, when it comes to France, that's more love than any American is usually willing to give, so hey, way to go Olympics.
Back to Mrs. Moses, she was really wanting to get home so she wouldn't miss any of the festivities, and since it looked like it was going to take her half an hour just to get to her car, she had reason to be worried.
Now, what is my point? I am sure my LDS readers have spotted it. For those of you outside the Zion Curtain, at the beginning of Sunday School each week, all the primary kids meet together for a while before breaking off to their individual classes. This time is referred to as Opening Exercises. Mrs. Moses wanted to hurry home so she wouldn't miss the Olympic Opening Exercises.
Now, having not watched, can anyone tell me who said the prayer? Did they sing Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam? Or the Chinese version Mao Wants Me For a Volunteer? Just asking.
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