Eric Bergen

I heard this over the wall of my cube today:

Guy A: Computer or Paperweight?
Guy B: Huh?
Guy A: I’m going to the hardware giveaway. Am I going to get a computer or paperweight?
Guy B: *Mumbles something*
Guy A: It’s a heavy object used to keep papers from blowing away.

After the initial shock of learning someone didn’t know what a paperweight was my brain started to drift away.
*wavy flashback lines lines*
Imagine working in an office long ago before air conditioning. In a time where stuffy wool suits were the only fashion and air moved by the grace of god or by your hand powered fan. Your sitting at your desk writing numbers on a ledger with a quill wet with fresh ink from the well on your desk. It’s 105F outside but you can’t go down to the creek for a swim because your boss demands the accounts be balanced by quitting time. The only water comes from a wooden bucket that was hauled from the well hours before so it’s almost as hot as you are. Sweat pours out of you where it feeds a thriving culture of bacteria in your suit creating a pungent oder that drifts throughout the room. The two small windows in your office are open wide in hopes of a blessing. Then it comes. A small gust of wind. Just enough to give you a second of relief from the heat and rustle a few papers on your desk. Previous experience tells you what to do next. You look for and adjust your paperweight.

That’s it. I give up. I have tried every pen ever made and I can’t write with any of them. I’ve been fighting this battle for years. I finally got sick of not being able to read any of my notes about two weeks ago and went hunting, once again for a solution. I found it in the form of a device that I once used almost exclusively in grade school. The PENCIL! More precisely the mechanical pencil. Amazing! This device, with the ability to have it’s marks erased instead of scratched out has saved me much frustration over the past weeks. If I focus and write slowly I can actually read my notes. It’s amazing. I do still catch myself writing to quickly and smearing words but when I do this I simply erase it and write it again slower.

murder (mûrdr) noun: A flock of crows.

About a week ago I received my tax return check. Today I received a letter informing me that they couldn’t direct deposit my refund and that I would get my check in about three weeks…..

… and everyone is going to be really upset. Especially M&M Mars and their horrible new advertising compaign.

Borange – The same fruit you can get every day from any place that has fruit. Even when you don’t want it (a twist on the side of a breakfast dish).

Add your own…

Driving past the crazy chain people coming down off the mountain I saw some very unique scenery. It was odd to think that all of this great country was going to be so close to home again. About this time I began to get fidgety for the ride to end. The scenery surprises were just beginning. It was a cloudy day and getting late. One of those days that produces what I like to call the ‘twilight zone effect”. It’s when a dark cloudy sky and sunset seems to produce a bright yellow glow over everything. This was the most defining when driving from Sacramento to Stockton. Just south of Stockton (I think it was south. It could have been north. Look it up if you really want) there are hills with only a few trees on them. When I say a few I mean about 5, if that. The rest are covered with from a distance looks like meadow grass. These mountains aren’t just decoration. They prop up power generating wind mills. I had heard of wind farms before but had no idea I was about to drive through one. With the twilight zone glow, the bald mountains and the wind farm it was quite a sight. I had a hard time staying on the road.

Past the sights and into the valley I began to feel my way through the many interchanges and possible routes into San Jose and beyond, eventually making my way into Sunnyvale. Time, about 6:00. I pulled off the highway and into a gas station parking lot. Now what? I was technically homeless. I drove down the street until I found a hotel that had open wireless. On to craigslist, from the parking lot of a Best Western I set out to find a new home. Craigslist produced a few hits and I began calling. The first hit I got was an asian family that had turned a back yard garage into an apartment. Yes they actually expected someone to live in their backyard. It was cheap so I checked it out. It was a nice place but very not very private or cozy living under the watching eye of a landlord and having to unlock the gate to their back yard to get in at night. Pass. After three or four more calls I was ready for a meal and bed.

The next day was much the same. Nothing after nothing in Sunnyvale. As I was driving up the road looking a place for lunch I saw a kid waving a free rent sign in front of an apartment complex. “Why not?” I said to myself. It turned out to be a good deal. Waved deposit. They could have given me the keys that night but there was one problem. The first months rent had to be paid with a money order or cashiers check. My bank was in chicago I’m in California. Shit. I learned a few things about money on that weekend. ATM’s have a limit of what they will dispense on any given day. This amount depends on the bank. An ACH takes at least two business days to complete. If you sell an index stock it takes 5 days to settle. If you want me to go into the details of this I will, but trust me I learned the hard way. Money settles and I move in. When I say I moved in I mean I moved in, my stuff was still stuck in a truck.

It seems the mild temperatures and rain around here are the perfect breeding ground for snails. Walking between the buildings at work, to and from my car I saw no less than 30 snails today. I have been lucky enough not to step on them thus far but I noticed a few spots where the snails weren’t so lucky. It also seems that snails have no problem eating other snails.

I got a little happy with the comment delete trying to clear out some spam comments. If I dropped your comment sorry.

Some of you know about my recent trek across the country.

I left bloomingdale (NW Chicago) at about 8:30 on tuesday and made it into Des Moines Iowa at about 12:30 AM. It’s very intimidating travelling I-88 during that time. I was a small car travelling in a river of big trucks. I saw thousands of trucks that night and even picked up a tail. About 100 miles before Des Moines I passed a truck. When I did another truck passed the same one I did right behind me. I set my cruise at about 82 and he kept right up, following my every pass. I tested him a few times by slowing down to 78 or so and he stayed right behind me giving up chances to pass. I thought it was odd at first but then decided I could use him. Most exits/rest areas are ok to go 80-85 past even when they have 65 speed limit sighns. I learned this by watching my tail. He would slow down to 70 for some but not others. After watching him fall far behind during one speed zone but none of the others I began to slow down when he did. He helped me make good time to the west side of Des Moines without any tickets. Thanks whoever you are

Day 1.5 After tackeling the lovely rolling hills of Iowa I start into the desolate windy hell nothingness that is Nebraska. I fee sorry for every person in this state and would like to take this moment to thank them for living in hell to provide us with corn and beef. If it wasn’t for battling the gusting cross wind I would have fallen asleep multiple times. I did have one thing to look forward to. Cabela’s has a massive store in the Sidney Nebraska. If you ever get a chance to visit it you won’t be disapointed. They have huge aquariums with a variety of sport fish from all over the country. In the back is a mountain display with mounted moose, antelope, fox, squirrels, polar bear, deer, and several other animals. It’s quite impressive.

Sidney also sports a Perkin’s with excelent pot roast. When I went into this Perkins there was a very business looking man sitting at the bar instructing the bartender on the intricacies of martinis. Some of which were wrong but I won’t get tinto that here. It was funny to see that the bar tender and a group of waitresses didn’t know what a martini is. He even accused me of being ‘from the area’ even though I corrected him several times (I was looking a bit scruffy and hickish at the time). I also met a truck driver that after a bit of conversation told me I was making excelent time.

Away from Nebraska and into the fine state of Wyoming. I was so happy to see mountains. There is a funky shit smell right before cheyenne that I couldn’t place (It was dark by this time). No matter. When I went to buy gas in Laramie I ran into something I never thought I was see in Wyoming, Idaho, or Montana. Pre. Pay. Gas. I about died. Wyoming is supposed to be full of friendly, trusting, I’ll-kill-you-if-you-cross-me cowboys. The attendant inside was all that I expected. A sweet old lady, very friendly which fit the stereotype. This wasn’t the end of the Wyoming oddness that I encountered. I had planned to spend the night in Rock Springs. I pulled into a econo lodge (I think) at about 1:00 Am, dead tired to get a room. I was informed that they are out of rooms and every other hotel in the town is out of rooms (there are about 7 of them, I checked 3). I went a few miles down the road to Green River; same thing, no rooms. Gah! The next city down the road according to the signs was Lyman.
Don’t ever go there. It’s about 10 miles off the highway and looks like something out of a Stephen King novel. Their “best western” is a run down shack with one of those creepy vacancy signs out front and a note on the door (I didn’t get out to read the note). I gassed up a maverick at the end of town which was the only lit building and got the hell out. Back on the interstate all the way to Evenston before I found a room.

Day 2.5 I breeze through Salt Lake City, UT and buzz past the salt farms, which are giant piles of salt with sprinklers running on them (I assume to disolve the solt from the dirt) and evaporation ponds. Past the great salt lake and into Nevada. I spent a few hours dodging tumble weeds. Hitting a tumble weed can pierce a radiator easily which would not have been fun in the desert. Then into Wendover. Don’t ever goto Chevron in Nevada. They charge on average about $0.25 per gallon more than anyone else in the state for fuel because (I assume) they have locations right off the exist. I snuck up town in Wendover a few block sand found a Pilot station that was selling for $2.20. I noticed the same thing in Elko and Reno. I stopped in Elko for lunch at the Red Lion Inn. I’ve had their prime rib before and it’s the best around. Only this time I found out they don’t serve it until 5:00 (bastards). I settled for a top sirloin instead which was excellent. While eating I started talking to another guy at the bar (I tend to do this wherever I go.) he was planning a move across the country much like the one I did 4 1/2 years ago when I went to chicago. I recommend it to anyone. It’s a good experience moving far away from everything you know. I learned a lot living in Chicago (Gyro’s, Guinness, Martinis, The ‘L’, Drum and Bass Music, Confidence). It really awakend my eyes to the world. Anyway, back to the trip.

At my fathers urging I tried a bit of gambling. If you don’t know I’m incredibly cheap when it comes to certain things. I outright refuse to gamble most of the time. This time I thought, “What the hell, I’m in Nevada.” So I put $5 into a video poker machine and played it for a while. I was up then down then up then out. Out happened when I discovered the bet 5 credits button I did keep it going long enough to have a beer and forget about driving for a bit. Back on the road. Driving through north western nevada isn’t as boring as it sounds. It is mostly flat and straight like Nebraska, but unlike Nebraska thousands of people have stopped to write messages using dark rocks on the white sand by the road. There is also a very odd balls on a tree sculpture that stands about 30 feet high. I’m not sure what it is or where it came from.

Up up up into the mountains all the way up to Donner pass. Much like the Donner Party I was unable to cross. Not because I couldn’t make it through the snow but because I hit a chain check station. Something I have never heard of before. It breaks down like this. The vast majority of people that travel through that area fail to put decent snow tires on their cars or learn the basics of driving through snow or controlling a skid. I ran into one of these check stations on I-80 at Donner Pass and decided to boycott it. Fuck that. I grew up in Idaho, have good snow tires on my car and know how to use them. It’s 8:30 at night I have no where to go so… goto the bar I met a few interesting people there (once again…) The one that sticks out the most is a guy named Henry. I never got his last name. Henry has a unique life and some unique talents/hobbies. He spends his days maintaining a ranch for some rich guy that only visits a few times per year. He has a cabin powered by a gas generator and spends most of his time refinishing bamboo fly rods and other old fishing gear. By his description most of the finished rods are worth thousands of dollars but he doesn’t sell them. He simply refinishes them and hangs them in his cabin. Every day he comes into “town” on hi snowmobile to buy fuel for his generator then goes back out to hibernate from the rest of the world.

Next morning up bright and early and back on the road. I stop at a gas station to find out if there is anyway around the check stations. The gas station attendant helps me plot a way past lake tahoe and into san jose that doesn’t have any check stations (she called to verify this). So I drive all the way to the south side of lake tahoe only to find a check station on highway 50 to Sacramento. So I continue on 89 south other luther pass to find a cop blocking the road saying that someone slid their truck across the road and no one will be able to pass until a crane can pull him out. Back over Luther Pass I give up and buy a set of chains. Over Echo summit to the other side I find the nearest place to pull over, strip the chains from my front tires and continue. Ten miles down the wet road I see some lady putting chains on her car. A few miles later more people are putting chains on their cars. They don’t realize that they will have to drive 15-20 miles just to get to snow.

End of part 1.

After a few more minutes of browsing I came across What are free radicals? First sentence “We searched Yahoo! for “free radical”. There we go

I highly suggest wandering around on Ask for at least a few minutes. There are some very good questions and answer.