Crispy Brain Fries...

 Yeah, it's been like that. Got told last week that we needed to do more, thus more overtime was required.  Yeah, right.  What I need is an uncrispy-fried brain, but that's my problem, not my employer's.  

So we launch into this week with what I hope is an un-fried brain.  The youngest fellow in the family is heading out tomorrow morning to do battle with the 35W Traffic monster, who will eat him for the first few weeks, until he gets comfortable.  But he's starting a new job at a high-end auto dealer's shop, where he will work on fancy-schmancy cars.  Fancier than I will ever own.  

So he got that going for him, which should be good.  Me?  I'm really enjoying the green and the leaves that are finally beginning to shade the yard.  Next step is to see if I should build a semi-permanent pergola, or something a little more sheltery for peace in the yard.  We're off an extremely busy street which is, apparently, where all the kewl kiddos come to test out their latest motor modification which - and this is coming from an olde farte who does recall gasoline at 29 cents a gallon - causes the motor to backfire by exploding the unburned gasoline in the exhaust for ... I don't know.  My primary operating theory at the moment is that it is a newly developed sad mating cry for the young unbonded underdeveloped sexually immature member of the species.  This explosion is either to gain the attention of similarly unbonded young of the opposite - or same, not my business - gender who might be attracted to such explosions.  

Pretty sure there might also be some additional benefits from the expected jolt that one feels within the vehicle, because there's a lot of it, and so there must be some form of stimulation for the immature sort that provides some form of gratification.  Now, I know, I was never all that attractive to the opposite sex of my species, until one day I was enchanted by a young lady who did seem to return my affection.  Now, mind you, back in the old days, we used things like language and humor and ... well, I can honestly say that if I had been attractive at any point, it most likely peaked before I had completed toilet training.  In the time since, I do feel that my overall attractive looks trended downward, until I did discover that one might reduce the amount of one's face exposed to the public by scattering hair about it.  

I am fortunate that this technique did work to an extent.  And continues to do so.  That is, it continues to render me attractive to the person who chose to pair with me.  And at this point in our relationship, I am confident that if my overall non-attractiveness is recognized by the young lady, I may well find myself under a pool or out ... well, not standing, but discarded in some field.  But we did make beautiful children who are successful on their own right, and neither of them regards a backfiring vehicle as either a necessity or even attractive.  So we're doing quite good there.

Now, should, in the future, descendants of this lineage decide that such explosions are necessary to their own happiness, one fully expects to haunt the ugly little buggers as long as I can.  For that is most likely what they will be if they have to resort to such a pathetic form of attention attraction.