He was a pretty good teacher, but he's also batshit insane and smells like ferret pee.

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Andy Rooney Moment

Started by Doktor Howl, September 14, 2023, 06:34:02 PM

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Doktor Howl

<Mickey Rooney voice>

You ever had someone you thought you were friends with for 21 years just flat-up ghost you?  I hate that.

</Mickey Rooney voice>

I should be used to it, given my earlier revelation that A friend is a close person who hasn't yet had sufficient incentive to turn on you, or at least show you the door.

And this isn't anything new for me,  and I realize that I'm not everyone's cup of tea.  I was picked last in every sport in junior high.  I was never invited.  I had to walk home from school, because nobody would give me a ride.

Then I got a little bit of Eris in my life.  I bought a 1976 Gran Fury (the one with the Windsor 360 V8/4 Barrel) for $500, got the Chilton's manual on it, and over the course of a summer, I had that bastard ready to race by fall.  Made some friends doing it, too.  Gearheads were hard to come by.  But even then, I was only ever an "honorary" member of the pack.  But at least I was connected.

That year I also got heavily into computers (1985 or so), and I again made some almost-friends, they would have been actual friends, but I thought they were a little obsessed and they thought I was a Gearhead (indistinguishable from a Jock in their eyes) that might suddenly turn on them and bounce them off their heads until their lunch money fell out.

The money shot of all of this is that by 1986, I had the Gearheads and the computer nerds hanging out, doing what is now called skill sharing

But that new, burgeoning group was full.  There was no place for me.  I mean, they'd all be pleasant, "how ya doing", etc, but once again, I was never invited.  Friendly but not friends.

Since then, I have been a soldier.  I was good at it.  I was looked on with favor by the senior noncommissioned officers for my ability to train newbies coming fresh out of basic.  But then something bad happened, and everyone for the rest of my time in the army looked at me like I was bad luck.  And then I was a civilian again, with a gimpy leg.

Fast forward 29 years.  I am at the top of my field.  I have finally hit the invisible PhD ceiling, and I'm okay with that.  I am still not invited, and I have come to realize that part of that is my fault.  Hell, maybe the majority of it is my fault.  I know that some of my odious personal habits rub people the wrong way, and that my taciturn behavior in person means that even Star Trek Nerds don't want to spend very much time with me at conventions.

Lastly, I am getting older, by which I mean I am eligible for AARP, so now I don't expect to be invited. 

Now, I'm not just trying to whine here, I'm actually sorta building up to something. 

And that something is this:  "If you ghosted me, I have no hard feelings.  It is what it is.  But I'm not where you left me, and I am reasonable sure I never will be again.  Go forth and enjoy your life over the next couple of overly-exciting decades, and forget you ever knew me.  We all have to make choices in this life, and you've made yours."

That's all I have to say about that.

Or Kill Me Leave Me Hangin'

Molon Lube