It's How We Roll...

Commuting... Indian Style

It's How We Roll...

Commuting... Kamikaze Style!

Commuter Chronicle #6 - Worms in your Pockets

I just read an article that identified the Pompeii Worm (Alvinella Pompejana) as the the world's hottest animal. It can survive in an environment as hot as 176 degrees. If you're going to be a worm, that's the one to be. Nothing says I'm one bad ass worm better then 'Pompeii'. It's volcanic.

Another animal that should be considered is a guy I have nicknamed Stove Top. This guy is one giant human being. When my train slows down near the Rutherford station, my eyes start to peer down the walkways and past the office buildings, always looking to see which car he is about to turn into a furnace on rails.

Stove top is NFL lineman big. Big head, big feet and baseball mitts for hands. He stands over 6' 5" and must weigh in at over 280 lbs.

My core body temperature always seems to hover between 98.6 - 138.6 degrees regularly, so I do not need a 280 lb human rotisserie cozying up to me in a two seater. But fate has often stepped in and has made the introduction.

"Hey, how ya doin', I'm Fate... and dis here is a guy wit a core body temperature of 219 degrees. He's going to sit wit you... you alright wit dat?"

They don't make seats large enough for this guy's left butt cheek let alone both of his butt cheeks and he always finds a seat. This guy is not a stander. I have nowhere to go as I am jammed into the window of my train car. Then the heat begins. You might as well put a heating pad between our legs.

Now Stove Top either has a pocket full of Pompeii Worms or he is very excited to see me. Since Pompeii Worms live in hydrothermal vents deep in the Pacific Ocean just off the coast of Costa Rica, I doubt the creatures are lining the pockets of his Nike warm up pants. But then that leaves the fact that he may be excited to see me. Look, at a short 5' 7" and with a receding hairline and an occasional wild eyebrow hair that often attempts to climb over the top of my head like a an ivy plant, I do not consider myself much to get hot about. So, let's revisit the theory of Pompeii Worms in his pocket. It is a possibility.

• Where does one get Popmpeii Worms? After some research, I found that the worms are available at www.pompeiiworms.com, Amazon and at TrueValue Hardware stores.
  

• Then we need to identify why someone might want to carry Pompeii Worms in his pocket. I think it is obvious, eccentric yes, but obvious... ...cold legs.

• Next, we need identify what Pompeii Worms need to survive in one's pockets. The worms cannot subsist on old aloe infused kleenex scraps or pocket lint or without water. It says that on the wiki page, I read it. So, at minimum, they need saltwater and microbes. Zip lock bags, old medicine bottles or even Tupperware can be used to create the perfect habitat for the worms ...minus the volcanic thermal vents.
  

Going with my theory that Pompeii Worms in the pockets is a possibility, lets cap this rant off. The bottom line here is that whenever Stove Top or anyone who's body temperature can warm up my mac and cheese, comes and sits next to me, I should be prepared.

I just read an article that explained the word torpor. Stay with me here. This is important. Torpor is defined as a state of reduced activity resulting in the lowering of one's body temperature. See where we're going? Guess what animal can invoke torpor? Hummingbirds. It's getting clearer now isn't it?

I now carry around a Playmate cooler full of thawing but living and breathing hummingbirds. You see, I am prepared now. If I happen to catch old Stove Top and his thighs of fire, scanning the seat next to mine, guess who's jamming semi-frozen birds down his pants?

Commuter Chronicle #5 - I'm Drifting Away

There are many different ways to get from Northern NJ to New York City. If you can't chopper in with Donald Trump or have the ability to covert yourself into an energy pattern and then beam that pattern to a target where it can be reconverted back into matter, you pretty much have to drive a car or take public transportation.

If you do not have access to a car and mass transit is not available to you and teleportation is not an option, adapt... make things happen.

Don't be half a sissy. I say... Swim across the Hudson River. That's right, swim. It may take longer but it is a mode of transportation. While this is not always recommended, it can be accomplished. Why? Because I saw Survivor Man do it on A&E once in Alaska. And Bear Grylls did it in Man vs Wild on the Discovery Channel. They swam across bitter cold fjords and icy rivers. The Hudson should be a piece of cake. All you need is a few survival techniques and you are on your way to the office... Action Jackson style.

First, you may need to become SAS trained like Grylls. You will need to join the British Army's Special Forces to apply for the SAS training. Should be pretty easy. I mean, you wouldn't be thinking of swimming unless you were in great shape and had sound mind, right?

Next, you will need to ascend Mount Everest or at minimum the K2. Grylls did this as well and it probably puts you in great shape. All that walking does a body good. Check out "Nepal on $30.00 a Day" by Fodors. They have a chapter on what equipment you'll need as well as a helpful chapter on home remedies for frost bite.














You will need to have access to a dead sheep. A large goat will also suffice. Survivor Man used the skin of a sheep to create a floatation device. This will help you save some valuable energy as you float through the Hudson's current on your ISD (inflated sheep device). Once the sheep's hide has been removed, fold the hide's corners and simply tie up the ends with a piece of small intestine. Sheep intestine is considered the duct tape of all of the sheep parts. There are over 101 uses for a sheep's small intestine.

Now inflate your intestine. This will take a while so you may want to get any early start on the day so that you do not run late for work. Early bird gets the sheep inflated. If you are not a strong swimmer, might I suggest wrapping some small intestine around your arms - and inflating those as well. Swimmies!

Once you get across, both survivor man and Grylls always had a quick snack to provide energy to their exhausted bodies and you still need to walk the six blocks to your office. Granola just isn't going to cut it and pop tarts are way too fattening.

Grylls ate sheep eyes while Survivor Man ate a goat testicle. The only sheep part you'll have time to munch down will be your small intestine swimmies. They'll tide you over until you get a bagel in the office.

I told you there were 101 uses for uses for sheep intestine.


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Commuter Chronicle #4 - Driving with Thin Ice

It is getting cooler here in the northeast with morning frost occurring regularly and I am certainly not one to complain. I'd rather be dealing with 4 layers of fleece and numb butt cheeks than with trying to keep my gray t-shirt from looking like I was lactating due to all of the sweat build up on my chest on a hot and humid August morning. I bet you didn't know that humans have sweat glands on every part of the body except for the lips, nipples and the penis. It's true. And just imagine... work with me here... what if we did have sweat glands in those areas... the television we would get to see.

"...and welcome back to game 6 of the 2010 World Series. Today's game is being brought to you by Budweiser, the King of Beers ...and Mennen's Lip, Nipple and Penis Speed Stick - it's not just for under arms anymore. By Mennen!"

Lately, we have had some chilly nights which has been putting an icy grip on my car overnight. The result… I have been driving to the train station with a windshield that is 85% covered with ice. You see, I am one those people that just jumps into the car, flips on the defroster and takes off, giving the car no chance to wake up and prepare for work. The more I think about it, the more I feel bad for my little German friend. Perhaps I should treat him a little better. Yes, I called my car a him, and why not? Let's throw the automobile a bone here. Ships and boats already have first dibs on all of the feminine pronouns, right? So, what happens when they... "fix" a ship. Does the ship become an "it" like the dog whose testicles are snipped and then dropped into 20 ounces of formaldyhyde.


















Only to later be shipped to some high school where a freshman, percolating in his own testosterone can hack at them on a 10" x 6" tray of black wax. Kind of ironic isn't it?

Now, asking my car to just get up and go is pretty unfair. Especially that early in the morning. I guess it would be like someone waking me up at 3:15am on a cold December morning and immediately plopping my unclean, unshaven groggy ass into a pair of khakis and wrapping my hands on the handle of a started lawnmower and demanding me to mow the lawn. Machine or human, I suppose we all need some time to warm up to get started. I’ll usually give the windshield wipers a quick try but that only smears the ice and frost over the remaining 15% of the window. Look ma, now I have a 100% fully obstructed view.

Now I am basically driving on memory. Getting out of the driveway is pretty simple. Go straight 90 feet and turn left.

From there it gets more challenging. There is a large hill that you have to navigate, sometimes dodging an idling landscaping truck or a hopping crow, standing guard over some half eaten ball of rotting molecules.













I thought crows were supposed to be curious and intelligent and clever. Ravens and crows, the Ivy Leaguers of the bird world, right? We should be seeing crows ringing doorbells and pointing to the bread box or peanut butter jar in our kitchens or hanging outside a Hooters for freebies. But then again, the Crows and the Owls never did get along. The Crows never did trust those birds of the night with their pretentious attitudes and bulging eyes.

And every now and then you have to watch for the deer, especially in the late Fall. You see, right now in NJ, we are in the middle of what is called the Rut. The annually recurring period of sexual excitement and reproductive activity in male deer. The bucks are sniffing out the females and chasing them down all over the neighborhood. Strutting, flexing and sometimes fighting to get some attention, trying to show who the biggest baddest buck is in the woods. I guess it would be synonymous to a summer's Saturday night at Temptations on the Jersey shore where North Jersey's Guido Nation goes to dress, impress, assess, obsess, possess and caress. And I am pretty sure the girls at Temptations do not emit doe estrus urine to attract their mates. But then again, I don't quite understand the whole Guido thing in the first place, so I guess anything is possible. Kind of an ironic word, rut, when you come to think about it . I had a good friend of mine once tell me that he was stuck in a rut... tired of doing the same ol' same ol'. There is one thing you will never ever hear in the woods, and that is a corn gobbling, ten point, mature, white tailed buck say, "huhhh, I just can't seem to get out of this rut."













To a male deer, the rut is a Viagra, Lavitra and horny goat weed cocktail and I am sure there are some pretty intelligent deer out there trying to bottle rut. And if they can, they are selling it at Temptations.

It will take at least 5 minutes before the defroster starts realing warming up and I start to get that little peep hole in the center of my windshield. My virtual periscope. Hey, it's enough to keep my car on the road. My driver’s education teacher back in 1984, who worked out of a Catholic church in Pocasset, MA would have a heart attack right now realizing I learned not a thing from him. I will give him two thumbs up on his choice of movies though.















Death on Highway 71 was a classic 'scare the kids straight' movie. It contained footage of car accidents from the 1950's and the narrator was a tall Ohio state trooper with a message. I want to let that trooper's family know that I every now and then, I still see that 57' Ford Country Squire station wagon sitting on its roof and him telling us, "This is you! That's right you, if you drive fast and out of control. See that shoe on the ground, the driver was wearing it before he hit the pole." You know, I think that trooper reached me. Maybe he knew what he was talking about. But mind you, I would never be caught dead driving a Country Squire in red Chuck Taylors ...but he reached me.

My driver's education instructor's first words every time we took a trip in his two toned Datsun B210 station wagon was “check your view and check your mirrors”. Well, I did. My view was covered with ice and I still had three mirrors. Who checks their mirrors at 6:40am as you are pulling out of your driveway in the dark and chill of the morning. My ass and thighs are still getting over their initial introduction to my car seats. One thing Volkswagen has done is perfected pleather and my Jetta's seats can retain cold temperatures well into mile three of my commute to the train station.

Meandering through the remaining roads to the station is pretty uneventful. You've got stops signs, blind turns, and a Dunkin Donuts. Roads named after trees and flowers. I pass garbage trucks and contractor's vans and see kids waiting for their school buses. I know this because that little hole that was forming in the center of my windshield is now almost the size of the entire windshield. And guess what, my ass is warming up too.