Maths and Art
An interesting assortment of articles and resources on the relationships between Mathematics and Art.
A few hours could be well invested here.
Link: http://plus.maths.org/issue54/package/index.html & Link: http://nrich.maths.org/public/
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- Category: Link of the day
Sold - Helicopter Pilot's Helmet
Proof that it all comes down to advertising. He didn't even dicker on the price, drove in from Cochrane to pick it up, he asked how & why I came to have it (long pause...."um....."), I asked what his plans for it were - he has a friend with a plane, it would be a good dirt biking helmet, vague uncertain plans, he just knows that he wants it, exactly how I came to possess it....
Now this leaves me a table to get rid of, but I think I have an angle or two on that, then there's the Pachinko machine and the hanging brass oil lamp.
It's addictive, this downsizing, and I'll see how far I can take it.
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- Category: For Sale
The Fly in the Ointment
She started last week, the new dishwasher, older, 40, but blonde, pretty, perfectly fit body and surgically enlarged breasts. It's a question they ask new employees, even dishwashers, and word leaks out to the rest of the staff...
"She has fake-a boobs, look at this, feel them...."
She's pleasant enough, friendly, a friend got her a job here while she waits until something comes up in her field. She's a beautician.
Now you know she's not going to last, no one in the kitchen ever does, and the added pressures of being harangued by a bunch of groping males will probably hurry her on her path to getting her career back on track.
But jobs are scarce and she keeps coming into work, she's broke and needs the money. After work, G., the other waiter, single, shorter than her, takes her for drinks. She can't pay, she's too broke, but he doesn't mind.
Now she's way out of his league. Pleasant, very attractive, but dumber than a sack of hammers, and even as such she's still out of his league, but he's trying.
We tease him mercilessly, and at first he enjoys it, but as they continue to go out, as he continues to pay and as she continually discovers new hidden reserves of untapped virtue he starts to get cranky.
The old ladies in the kitchen, they've noticed his new infatuation and mimic him following her around, ply him with questions, he gets defensive and irate. He's not getting anywhere, she's just a friend, and this friendship thing is winding him up.
Tonight she started as a hostess. And it's a curious night indeed, as the old (last weeks) girlfriend will be working with them as well, and while she's said a hundred times she doesn't want date G., to go out with G., somehow or another she's come to rely on his asking. And the new girl, the new dishwasher, she's delighted at the chance to go home and dress in a revealing outfit, high heels, get out of the dishpit, who wouldn't be?
The old hostess is assigned to the floor with Franco.
****
G's very helpful. And his ex professes her happiness for him, and I suggest they all go on a double date, her with her imaginary facebook boyfriend and G with his new hopeful, but no one finds me very funny.
****
I sing to G's ex to console her: "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone..."
****
The old hostess hates her. Absolutely, with a passion, and doesn't give her the time of day. Previously she had been the sole object of sexual harassment, and while she complained about it incessantly the threat of losing her position is proving too much for her.
****
Sometime during the night the tip basket disappears. The hostess keeps it up by the coat check, it's her little bonus, in addition to what the waiters give her, and it's gone missing. G blames the old hostess, everyone else says the new hostess ditched it in hopes we'd up her tip out extra. She needs the money, after all. I've seen nothing, have no thoughts or opinions on the matter. G's mad as hell.
****
At the end of the night there's the cash out. It's only G, Franco, G's ex and me, the rest have gone home. There are words about the new hostess, they quickly escalate to shouting, G's ex gets in on the action, G suspects old hostess of stealing tip basket, G's ex is appalled at G's blind loyalty to a "New fucking piece of ass" and pretty soon everyone's screaming at the top of their lungs. G's ex isn't so happy either. There's no peace made, only a momentary truce while the money is thrown and divided, the new hostess gets half a cut, G's ex is angry she even got that much, "She did fucking nothing and she's getting how much!!" and the screaming match begins again, G defending her, Franco and his sister on the attack.
****
It's not a happy restaurant.
She's the fly in the ointment. It's not her fault that she's pretty, it probably is that she's stupid, and it's certainly her fault that she's been so misleading G. And no matter how you slice it there will be no happy endings.
But, then, here there never are.
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- Category: People
Garage Sales 2010 - Week 8
They are every where.
Dozens of pages in Kijiji and on Craigslist. The Calgary Herald even has a few, in between the hundreds of spam ads posted by ShopLocal (Their website has been flooded with spam for over a year, and is next to useless. Clicking on an ad brings you to a screen that tells you how often it's been viewed, but no expanded details. Now you could imagine the site being broken for a couple of days, a week even, but this has been broken for over a year.).
(Above: Screenshot of the Calgary Herald's idea of a Garage Sale. I wish I were making this up.)
So I pick a neighborhood, Wildwood, North of Bow Trail between 37 St and Sarcee Trail. There's a parade there, over 80 in one neighborhood, it's close, only a single bus away.
The weather, it rains a bit and then clears up. The garage sales, they're there, but there's a dearth of treasures. A couple of Wii games for the girl, a few X-Box 360 games for the boy, and that's pretty much it. By 11:00 in the morning I've walked 5 miles, visited perhaps half the sales and filled only a single small bag.
And then the bus home, time to get ready for work. Not a total bust, but nothing exciting or worth writing about.
On the way home, dozens of other garage sales. This was the big day of the year, and I look sadly at the signs all pointing to the better sales that I missed, the sales where there were vintage Rolexes, 5 for a dollar, vintage jewelry, rare books, antiques, none of which I discovered today.
I need a car. Garage sale season, to all intents and purposes, is pretty much done this year, but next year I'd better have a car.
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- Category: Miscellany
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