While talking the other day to my delightful, Scottish friend, Alice, we happened to discuss the varied and complicated rituals, that people practice when setting their alarm clocks. I found this conversation interesting for a couple of reasons. The first reason is because, if I understand correctly, Alice doesn't actually utilize any of these complicated rituals. I think she just sets her clock for the correct time, and her alarm, for the hour she needs to wake up...no trickery involved. The second reason is because Alice speaks with a Scottish accent, and, of course, whatever words are spoken with a Scottish accent, are ALWAYS more interesting.
Now, my husband and I, each have our own alarm clocks in our bedroom, but we never adhere to a simple and straight-forward practice such as Alice's. Instead, we each use our own, very sophisticated and intricate method, to ensure that we will always be up precisely when we need to be, and with plenty of time to spare, in order to get ready for the day.
I have the simpler method of the two. I set the clock 10 minutes fast, and my alarm about a half an hour earlier, than I need to wake up. This allows me the luxury of hitting the snooze button, multiple times, at 9 minute intervals, before I HAVE to get out of bed. Then, once I have awakened, I know I will never be late, because I have cleverly set the clock 10 minutes fast, thus fooling myself into being ready 10 minutes early!!! Sadly, this actually only works in theory, because, having set the clock myself, I am always aware of my own trickery and cannot be deceived by it.
My husband has a far more complicated ritual, and so, of course, needed a far more complicated alarm clock, than the one I have. He got his clock from a store called "Brookstone" which sells fascinating gadgets of all kinds. These gadgets are the cool kinds that you only purchase when you can spend pretend money, like the $50 gift certificate to the store, that my husband used....but NEVER when you have to spend any real money, the kind that you have earned yourself, by having to perform actual work. His clock has two alarms that you can set for different times, with sounds that first ring quietly, and then whose volume increases to a frightening crescendo should you foolishly choose to ignore them. It also includes a feature which allows the clock to RESET ITSELF automatically if you should accidentally unplug it, or experience a power failure. This is particularly helpful, because, since the clock is so complicated that I have a lot of trouble even turning off the alarm, I regularly yank the cord out of the wall , in order to shut it off.
Now my husband's ritual includes setting his clock for some random time, several hours different from the actual time that it is, and then having his alarm go off a couple of hours earlier, than need be. This, of course, tends to create a lot of confusion about whether it is time for him to wake up or not, because it requires an extraordinary amount of figuring to calculate out what the actual time is. To simplify things he just rolls over, and asks me to look at my clock for the correct time; a practice that does not endear him to me.
As hard as it is to believe though, despite all his complicated efforts, he occasionally, still oversleeps! This occurred the other day when I was working at the computer. First, his own alarm began to ring, with its increasingly loud volume, and then my alarm went off... and not in unison, but at separate intervals. I called upstairs to Dave to wake up, and he hit the snooze on both of the alarms. A very short nine minutes later the alarms began to ring again. Since Dave was only getting up to await an early morning phone call, I decided, with amusement, to see how long it would take for Dave to turn off all the alarms on his own. The 33 minute mark had passed, and still Dave showed no sign of weakening by giving in to the alarms' incessant ringing. Now, knowing that Dave would be making a significant contribution to science if I pursued this research further, I hypothesized as to why the alarms were failing to produce their desired result. I decided it was because he had become accustomed to the noise, and would need a new sound, thrown in to the already maddening din, in order to wake up. I experienced my "Aha!" moment, and ran excitedly on tiptoes to get his cell phone. With the stealth of a Navy Seal, I crept up the steps, while muffling my laughter, and placed his cell phone directly next to his ear, on his pillow. Then I raced back down the stairs again, and picked up the house phone and called him. I was filled with glee, as I awaited his reaction. I waited some more...and the phone went to voice mail. I couldn't believe it!!! How could he sleep through his cell phone ringing, AND the other two alarms? I decided to call again. This time the call went immediately to voice mail. I puzzled over this development, and hung up and attempted to try again when, unexpectedly, the phone in my hand rang, startling me. With heart racing I guiltily ran upstairs to give Dave the phone, thinking it was the call he was waiting for. I ran into the bedroom, and tried to hand it to him. He explained he was already on his cell phone though, so I went ahead and answered it for him. The caller was Dave who, half-asleep, had been attempting to return his missed call. Now, confused by all the noise from the alarm clocks, he was trying to fathom why I was one who had answered, and was presently in the same room with him speaking to him on our home phone. I decided to conclude my experiment.
I feel that, while my hypothesis about a third sound being needed to wake up a very sleepy individual was, in fact, correct, it might be somewhat challenging to replicate. The only really conclusive information I have to offer is that people with Scottish accents are apparently, much more sensible about their wake up rituals, than Dave and I are...plus, I really like the way that they speak. Here's hoping that your morning wake ups are all a little bit more Scottish, than ours!!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
I HATE HOW MAP-QUEST ALWAYS GIVES ME THE WRONG DIRECTIONS JUST BECAUSE I PUT IN THE INCORRECT ADDRESS
Last week I drove with my daughter, Olivia, to Western Michigan University for her 2 day orientation. In a stroke of genius, born of past stupidity, I carefully map-quested out every aspect of the journey beforehand. I mapped out the drive there and the drive back, and, in addition, even mapped out the five minute drive from the college to the hotel I would be staying at, as well as the return route from the hotel back to the college. I left no stone unturned in my efforts to make this trip one of the few that I have ever taken, during which there would be no possible way for me to get lost. Sadly, I underestimated my own abilities.
I only got a little bit lost when we first arrived in Kalamazoo, which I considered an exemplary achievement, on my part. I was tricked into going the wrong way at one of the many forks in the roads that the Kalamazoo City Planners have generously provided throughout the city, to confuse and frustrate unsuspecting travelers. This problem was then compounded by the fact that almost all the streets in Kalamazoo are one-way, and, it goes without saying, that any one-way street will ALWAYS be in the opposite direction of the way I need to go in. From previous adventures to WMU though, I was able to navigate myself back onto a wonderful street called Westnedge, and I managed to be lost for only a mere 15 minutes, as a result. Jubilant, we arrived on time, and began the many hours of orientation that, I soon realized, I had already participated in when I took Olivia to Western earlier in the year, to attend a Scholarship Competition. Despite the success of my prior two back surgeries I have determined, through experience, that I must limit certain activities in order to avoid aggravating my back again. These activities are driving to Western Michigan University, and then sitting though many hours of orientation that I have already participated in. Frankly, I considered myself a candidate for Sainthood when, after having left home at 5:15 that morning, I waited until 1:30 in the afternoon before I finally informed Olivia that I was going to hobble back to the car, and then head for my hotel.
I retrieved the directions I had printed out for the five minute journey, and eagerly began the trip to my hotel. About 20 minutes into the drive I began to think that something was amiss, but I doggedly remained on course and followed all of the directions to their end. Surprisingly, when the directions indicated that I should be at my destination I found myself on a dirt road, which ran along the side of some railroad tracks, in a very unappealing section, of... I don't know where. I continued on a short distance more, to ensure that the hotel wasn't secretly hiding in that tantalizing place known as "if only you would have gone just a little bit farther down the road" and then, with resignation, turned back. I am not even sure when I began to check the clock, but I remember at some point I had been on the road for about an hour, and still had no idea where my hotel was. I made my way back through the hellish maze of one-way streets and managed to take the wrong fork in the road that I had taken earlier in the morning, several more times, before I found my way back to Western Michigan University. Once there, I began the journey again, (because, I guess, I was somehow unsure that I had really gotten lost following the directions the first time) and, eventually, found myself in that same old comforting spot where the dirt road hugs the railroad tracks, in that very unappealing section, of... I don't know where. I started back on my now annoyingly familiar trek to the university when, at exactly 3:45 PM on East Michigan Ave. near South Sprinkle, I had a revelation! I realized that Dave had forced me to take his cellphone with me!! I was overwhelmed by the miraculous nature of cellphones, and how convenient they are when one is lost on a dirt road by some railroad tracks, for the second time in one day. After a quick call to the hotel I discovered what I already knew, which was that I wasn't anywhere near the hotel. It was, actually, in a totally different direction than what I had map-quested, and once I made my way back to Western Michigan University again, I found it quite easily. It had taken me only three hours to reach the hotel that was five minutes away from the college; the same amount of time, I noted to myself with interest, that the entire drive from my house to the university had taken me that morning.
I was overcome by joy and gratitude when I met the young woman who had given me the directions earlier and, had I not thought such a display would frighten her, I would have reached over the counter and hugged her if my arms had been long enough. Then, as if my happiness at finally finding my hotel was not enough, she informed me that along with an ice machine, the hotel also offered vending machines that contained all the important food groups; diet coke, crunchy cheese curls and m&ms!!!!! I was humbled by the magnitude of my good fortune.
After partaking of my bounty and resting for a short time I ventured back out again, to get some gas. This time I was only lost very briefly, after forgetting to turn back onto Stadium Drive from 11th Street. I returned to the hotel and slept peacefully, content in the knowledge that I was now, so familiar with the Kalamazoo area, that I couldn't possibly get lost again.
In the morning, as I bade farewell to a different innkeeper, I mentioned to her how map-quest had given me erroneous directions from the university to the hotel. She voiced her appreciation, and mentioned that she would try and contact the site to correct the misinformation. Upon returning to my car I glanced at my directions one last time, and noticed, only then, that, while I had entered the correct numerical address, I had, for some unknown reason, put in the incorrect street name. Horrified, I contemplated returning to the lobby to inform the woman of my mistake. After quickly surmising that such an admission of stupidity would be too embarrassing, even for someone such as myself who is used to making frequent admissions of stupidity, I decided against it. I started off to the college instead and, after forgetting to turn onto Stadium Drive from 11th Street, and being forced to turn around again in the same driveway I had turned around in the night before, I proceeded, uneventfully, back to the university....and I didn't even get lost once.
I only got a little bit lost when we first arrived in Kalamazoo, which I considered an exemplary achievement, on my part. I was tricked into going the wrong way at one of the many forks in the roads that the Kalamazoo City Planners have generously provided throughout the city, to confuse and frustrate unsuspecting travelers. This problem was then compounded by the fact that almost all the streets in Kalamazoo are one-way, and, it goes without saying, that any one-way street will ALWAYS be in the opposite direction of the way I need to go in. From previous adventures to WMU though, I was able to navigate myself back onto a wonderful street called Westnedge, and I managed to be lost for only a mere 15 minutes, as a result. Jubilant, we arrived on time, and began the many hours of orientation that, I soon realized, I had already participated in when I took Olivia to Western earlier in the year, to attend a Scholarship Competition. Despite the success of my prior two back surgeries I have determined, through experience, that I must limit certain activities in order to avoid aggravating my back again. These activities are driving to Western Michigan University, and then sitting though many hours of orientation that I have already participated in. Frankly, I considered myself a candidate for Sainthood when, after having left home at 5:15 that morning, I waited until 1:30 in the afternoon before I finally informed Olivia that I was going to hobble back to the car, and then head for my hotel.
I retrieved the directions I had printed out for the five minute journey, and eagerly began the trip to my hotel. About 20 minutes into the drive I began to think that something was amiss, but I doggedly remained on course and followed all of the directions to their end. Surprisingly, when the directions indicated that I should be at my destination I found myself on a dirt road, which ran along the side of some railroad tracks, in a very unappealing section, of... I don't know where. I continued on a short distance more, to ensure that the hotel wasn't secretly hiding in that tantalizing place known as "if only you would have gone just a little bit farther down the road" and then, with resignation, turned back. I am not even sure when I began to check the clock, but I remember at some point I had been on the road for about an hour, and still had no idea where my hotel was. I made my way back through the hellish maze of one-way streets and managed to take the wrong fork in the road that I had taken earlier in the morning, several more times, before I found my way back to Western Michigan University. Once there, I began the journey again, (because, I guess, I was somehow unsure that I had really gotten lost following the directions the first time) and, eventually, found myself in that same old comforting spot where the dirt road hugs the railroad tracks, in that very unappealing section, of... I don't know where. I started back on my now annoyingly familiar trek to the university when, at exactly 3:45 PM on East Michigan Ave. near South Sprinkle, I had a revelation! I realized that Dave had forced me to take his cellphone with me!! I was overwhelmed by the miraculous nature of cellphones, and how convenient they are when one is lost on a dirt road by some railroad tracks, for the second time in one day. After a quick call to the hotel I discovered what I already knew, which was that I wasn't anywhere near the hotel. It was, actually, in a totally different direction than what I had map-quested, and once I made my way back to Western Michigan University again, I found it quite easily. It had taken me only three hours to reach the hotel that was five minutes away from the college; the same amount of time, I noted to myself with interest, that the entire drive from my house to the university had taken me that morning.
I was overcome by joy and gratitude when I met the young woman who had given me the directions earlier and, had I not thought such a display would frighten her, I would have reached over the counter and hugged her if my arms had been long enough. Then, as if my happiness at finally finding my hotel was not enough, she informed me that along with an ice machine, the hotel also offered vending machines that contained all the important food groups; diet coke, crunchy cheese curls and m&ms!!!!! I was humbled by the magnitude of my good fortune.
After partaking of my bounty and resting for a short time I ventured back out again, to get some gas. This time I was only lost very briefly, after forgetting to turn back onto Stadium Drive from 11th Street. I returned to the hotel and slept peacefully, content in the knowledge that I was now, so familiar with the Kalamazoo area, that I couldn't possibly get lost again.
In the morning, as I bade farewell to a different innkeeper, I mentioned to her how map-quest had given me erroneous directions from the university to the hotel. She voiced her appreciation, and mentioned that she would try and contact the site to correct the misinformation. Upon returning to my car I glanced at my directions one last time, and noticed, only then, that, while I had entered the correct numerical address, I had, for some unknown reason, put in the incorrect street name. Horrified, I contemplated returning to the lobby to inform the woman of my mistake. After quickly surmising that such an admission of stupidity would be too embarrassing, even for someone such as myself who is used to making frequent admissions of stupidity, I decided against it. I started off to the college instead and, after forgetting to turn onto Stadium Drive from 11th Street, and being forced to turn around again in the same driveway I had turned around in the night before, I proceeded, uneventfully, back to the university....and I didn't even get lost once.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)