BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

In the movie, Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, the character who is the translator for the French scientist has himself a eureka moment, then says to everyone in the room, “Before I got paid to speak French, I was a cartographer…”

As many of you are probably well aware – and even if you are, I’m going to tell you again – I have a tendency to paraphrase that quote, saying, “Before I got paid to write books, I was a computer and printer technician…”

And, it’s true. I was. I never had occasion to uncover any salient points that would tell us where the Extraterrestrials were going to land, as did the French speaking cartographer, but I did happen to make a few folks lives a bit easier by fixing their computer equipment.

But, that really has nothing to do with hamsters now, does it? Keep reading. Eventually it will make sense. Convoluted in many ways, but sense nonetheless. During the 25+ year span of my Electronics Fix-It-Guy career, I spent a decade with a company called T&W Typewriter and Computer Repair. And, no… The W didn’t stand for “Womputer”. It was the owner’s name. But, moving right along… We had this receptionist, dispatcher, girl Friday – actually, she liked to be called Administrative Goddess. And, that was okay, because she really was. Phyllis was the glue that held the crew together, and she was a good buddy. You see, Phyllis had just as warped a sense of humor – if not more so – than me.

I know. Hard to believe, but it’s true. Anyway, Phyllis and I used to toss incredibly bizarre humor back and forth like snowballs. One liners. Clippings out of magazines. Fake ransom notes. Post its. And drawings. One of the things we had in the back of our shop was a dry erase board. We used it for things like parts order lists, reminders, etc. But, as the years wore on, it was replaced by fax order forms and the like. Not wanting to see it go to waste, I began drawing bizarre cartoons on it. Parodies of life around T&W, be it a weird service call or something that happened over the weekend.

Throughout the years there were things like a caricature of my buddy and fellow Tech, Chris, running bare-butted through the woods with a lantern – something we had convinced him (for a few minutes) that he had done while blind drunk on a company float trip the previous weekend. Or, caricatures of myself and another tech, Mike, portrayed as “Beavisish and Buttheadish” looking characters complaining about a PITA (pain in the ass) customer. However, among the longest running in the way of a “series” of toons and by far one of the most popular with our crew, were the ongoing adventures of “Merp The Tech Hamster”…

“Merp” was born of many things coming together in one place purely at random. Phyllis having a fascination with hamsters. A friend of mine calling me “Merp” all the time. My reputation for being able to MacGyver practically anything, as well as having all sorts of useless knowledge rolling around in my head that would often come out for no reason other than a mnemonic trigger. Back then they would sometimes call me “Cliff Clavin,” (Cheers) even though what I was spouting was truly factual. These days many of my friends call me “Ducky” (NCIS)… But, I digress…

“Merp The Tech Hamster” and his sidekick “Ex-Marine Biologist Turned Supermodel, Buffy Bighair” had a great run as a tongue-in-cheek cartoon adorning the dry erase board. Two to three times each week a new panel would go up, regaling the staff with their adventures battling their evil nemesis, “Doctor Shirley Knot” (aka Phyllis).

Then, one day, the hamster ran away… Wait… no… that was The Pretender… But seriously, then, one day, I left T&W for what were greener pastures, moneywise. Phyllis and I remained friends for a while, although we have lost touch over the years. But, at that point in time after spending a decade in one place, it was a fairly emotional exit. But, as happens with repair companies, I had occasion to call T&W on a regular basis to give them a referral for something the new outfit wasn’t authorized to work on, or to order a part, or to trade tech support. During one of those calls Phyllis mentioned that she and the others really missed the “Merp The Tech Hamster” cartoons.

And so, Sharpie in hand and FAX machine nearby, I set about tempering the loss with paper versions of the dry erase board saga. Recently, while going through some old files I happened upon a folder which contained 8 original “Merp The Tech Hamster” cartoons. While some of them contain inside jokes, I will attempt to explain them as best I can. However, with there being 8 official blogging days for Brainpan Leakage in the month of February – not to mention that I am in the middle of a deadline and could use some easy blogs for a few weeks – I thought I’d declare it Hamster Month.

While an untold number of these “toons” are lost due to the impermanence of dry erase boards, and my own neglect, these 8 still remain. I hope you enjoy them as much as Phyllis did…

Image Copyright © M. R. Sellars – As you can see, each of these is labeled “To Phyllis” since I was faxing them to her each week. The themes would vary, largely depending upon what was happening at the time. I cannot say for certain, but I think this is possibly one of the first – if not THE first – paper toon I faxed. There I – Merp the Tech Hamster – sit at my repair bench, working on a printer, soldering iron in one paw, screwdriver in the other, complete with my compTIA A+ certification certificate hanging on the wall.

More to come…

Murv

When you have geriatric felines you are going to have problems. That is just how it is.

I’m sure you’ve read some of my other blogs where I’ve gone on about having to give insulin to diabetic cats, or running sub-cutaneous fluids into a fleabag with chronic constipation. You’ve likely even read the blog about – and laughed at the picture of – the hemorrhoid cat. So, I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you that I am now lamenting the selective incontinence of one such “kitteh”.

Jasper, or as I like to call him, “the stupid one” – mostly because he’s as dense as a brick – has taken to relieving himself in one corner of our dining room. We stay on top of it, of course. Our house is lived in, not filthy. But, I have to admit, it is a bit of a battle. And, no matter how many chemicals you use to destroy the human detectable odor, the cat can still smell it and returns to that place over and over.

Since I am sequestered away in the office all day, we lock “TSO” and “TFO” (The Fat One) in the basement where the litter boxes are located. Granted, the basement is unfinished so it isn’t exactly plush – which is how E K prefers her dungeon – but, for the kitteh’s sake we do make sure they have their “cat pyramids” and “cat beds” down there. And, since that is where their food dishes are as well, they are all good.

Now, before I get a ration of comments telling me how I need to handle this, or that I am a bad person because I need to take the cat to the vet because he’s trying to tell me he is ill, just put a governor on it and step away from the keyboard. E K and I have been rescuing cats for better than 20 years. We have more than just a little experience in this arena. PLUS, we have, in fact, taken him to the vet. He’s fine. Nothing wrong. No urinary infections, no diabetes, etc. He’s just old and suffering from “I don’t care anymore syndrome.”

So anyway, on with the story. “TSO” will do the same thing in the basement on occasion, meaning he’ll leave a puddle on the concrete floor 10 steps from the litter boxes, just because he can. Fortunately, that is much easier to clean up than the hardwood in the dining room, but I digress.

Just the other day it was raining. Since we live in an old house at the bottom of a hill, in a dip in the road, with all of the property around us sitting higher than us, drainage occurs. See where I’m going with this? When such drainage occurs and the ground is saturated, some seepage also occurs. We don’t get “major flooding” down there, but we get a few puddles and minor streams running toward the floor drain.

On this particular day, the O-spring, fresh off finishing her homework, headed downstairs to take care of the afternoon feline feeding – something that has been added to her list of chores in recent weeks. No more had she gone down into the basement than I heard “Ewwwww! Jasper! That’s disgusting!” Given that I was sitting in the office upstairs doing some work, you know she had to be pretty loud.

The “Ewwws” and scoldings continued for a minute or two, and finally I heard her clomping back up the stairs. The basement door opened, the slammed, and I was greeted with my daughter yelling at me from the bottom of the first floor staircase.

“DADDY! Jasper peed ALL OVER the basement!”

“What do you mean, all over?” I asked.

“He peed EVERYWHERE! There’s only only little places to stand where it’s dry. It’s GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

When I finally stopped laughing I called back to her, “Honey, it’s raining. That’s just water from the basement leaking.”

It was quiet for a moment, then I heard a very calm and perfunctory, “Oh.”

Crisis averted. I wonder what she’s going to do the first time she has to change a diaper?

More to come…

Murv