Nigel, This Damn Thing Doesn't Work.

[Doktor Howl]

I've tried everything.  I've hauled it out and rebuilt it, I've been over it with a fine tooth comb, tried new fuel, everything.  The damn thing still won't work right.  I'm really at my wit's end.

So I took a short break, I guess, and listened to an old Confederate Railroad song, The Queen of Memphis, smoked a cheap cigar in my office, and swilled some coffee.  Thinking, you know, "What would Payne do?"  Took a short walk outside, texted a friend, and said something pointlessly nice to our receptionist, a sweet lady with truly unfortunate looks.   

Then I watched a road runner the size of a goddamn chicken cruise across the back 40, and it was poetry in motion at about 30MPH, just beautiful.  It wasn't hunting, I think, I'm pretty sure it was running just for the joy of it, because maybe that's the only mode of pleasure you can fit into a brain the size of a thimble.

Then I chatted with a couple of my guys, you know, mostly as a way to give them a bit of a break from a tedious job I have them on, and wandered over to the back of my building again, and called my grandfather just to say hello.

When I got back into my office, wouldn't you know it?  The damn thing works again.

Okay for now,
Dok

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Sometimes the harder you try to make something work, the longer it will sit there like a brick, giving you exactly nothing. Sometimes you have to get up and walk away, and not even think about it while you're walking away; you have to be the roadrunner, make your brain the size of a thimble for now, and just walk. Look around. You don't have to think about what you look at, either; in fact, you shouldn't. Just look.

And then, often enough, when you get back, it'll be working again.

[Doktor Howl]

Sometimes the harder you try to make something work, the longer it will sit there like a brick, giving you exactly nothing. Sometimes you have to get up and walk away, and not even think about it while you're walking away; you have to be the roadrunner, make your brain the size of a thimble for now, and just walk. Look around. You don't have to think about what you look at, either; in fact, you shouldn't. Just look.

And then, often enough, when you get back, it'll be working again.

I need to do this more often.  It's amazing what a walk outside can do for your head.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

It's Nigel's Universal Cure-All for Everything:

GO OUTSIDE.