Don\'t Ask Why
Facebook quotes say a lot about you
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 15 September 2009 13:40
It’s after midnight on a Sunday night. The dormitory has calmed, as has the screaming in the next room, which was presumably in response to a video game. Or murder. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.The air-conditioning window unit is composing an orchestration of humming, rattling and buzzing. There are brief snoring solos guest-starring roommate Michael, who has been out for the last couple hours.
Other than that, it’s peaceful. So I’m doing some personal reflecting.
Actually, I’m on Facebook.
Right now, 50 of my Facebook friends are online. I could have a live “chat” with any of them right now, if I wanted to. But that would require typing; an action that emits a small, obnoxious clicking.
The room is so still, it would...
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Notice: Beware of Coastline Lethargy
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 01 September 2009 13:19
I do hope you understand what a privilege it is for you to be reading this column right now. I had to put down the epic Greek poem the “Iliad” in the middle of a riveting exchange of dialogue so I could write this.However, that last sentence is only completely true if your definition of the word “riveting” is “causing one’s eyelids to become lead and drool to dribble out of the mouth.”
Haha! That was just a joke. (Sort of.) I’m sure the story will pick up speed after a little while.
As you may know, the “Iliad” was written by ancient Greek poet Homer Simpson, who is also famous for writing the “Odyssey” and the “Odyssey II: Attack of the Clones.”
Like I said, I haven’t read very far into the...
A few topics in loo of one big one
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 18 August 2009 14:10
I’ve been writing this column for a little over seven years now, so it’s about time I make a very important confession: Sometimes, when I sit down at the computer to write, I have no earthly idea what sort of product I will be producing in the next hour or so.Usually, after thinking for a few minutes, inspiration strikes. But other times I sit for an hour without any ideas that could possibly fester into a structured, entertaining piece of writing.
This is such a week.
However, I always have a reserve of smaller topics that I collect over a period of time, some of which make it into this column. Most of these subjects come to my mind while sitting in a certain room. And I think you know which room that is.
So in loo of any good...
A boy and his first car are connected
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 04 August 2009 14:42
There is a special relationship shared between a boy and his first car—some sort of combination brother, confidant and therapist. There’s a certain newness and feeling of adventure. It’s maturation. It’s responsibility. And it’s an intimacy that will never exist in any way again.Unfortunately, such relationships are seldom understood until the end.
I first met the 1994 teal Camaro on a cloudy day in the early summer 2006. Despite the rough exterior and abused interior, the car was the right price.
I did my best to clean it up. Countless hours were spent scrubbing the dark stains in the carpet and upholstery. I polished the cracked dashboard, covered obstinate stains with fresh floor mats and placed a seat cover over the...
Ode to the value of English majors
Written by David Vogel Tuesday, 28 July 2009 14:00
“Being an English major prepares you for impersonating authority.” —Garrison KeillorI recently made the mistake of going into a Wal-Mart. This is something I tend to avoid, because Wal-Mart is filled with millions of items that are marked at “Everyday Low Prices,” and despite the fact that I don’t particularly need anything, I feel obligated to buy something anyway.
For example, last winter I bought a Mr. Coffee coffee maker, which I have used about twice.
But coffee makers are not why going to Wal-Mart was a mistake; it was the school supplies.
When I saw all of the school supplies, I suddenly became aware that, yes, school is almost here again. But the real kicker came when I received an envelope in the mail from...
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