On Saturday night I was rinsing the cleaning solution off my right contact lens, it slipped from between my fingers, and ROCKETED down the sink. Yeah, the thing went sailing out of my life like a post-Meister Brau assplosion, circa 1983.
I stood there for a second or two, unable to process what just happened. Then I turned off the water, and began frantically looking for the lens. I was hoping it might be hanging on the edge, just fluttering there. But, of course, that was a laughable notion; my luck almost never goes that way. My contact lens was gone.
I wear gas-permeable (aka hard) lenses, because one of my corneas is shaped like the end of a football. Disposable lenses won’t correct my vision, and glasses don’t really cut it, either. So, losing one of those bastards is a big deal to me.
My heart sank as I stood looking at the lens-gobbling drain, and decided I wasn’t giving up without a fight. I went downstairs and grabbed a wrench from the toolbox, and removed the u-pipe, or trap, or whatever that thing under the sink is called. All this was happening at 3 am, by the way…
After I got it off there, I dumped the water into a plastic bucket. Then I shined a bright flashlight into the murkiness, looking for the runaway contact. No luck. I looked inside the pipe itself and didn’t see it there, either. Grrr…
I spent upwards of thirty minutes, in the dead of night, removing and replacing plumbing, and working with tools. That’s how desperate I was: I was working with tools! But I never came up with the lens; there was no reward for my efforts.
And now I’m going to have to go to the eye doctor and put my chin on the strip of tissue paper, and have some middle-aged man’s face four inches from mine. Then they’ll have to take detailed photographs of my eyeballs, and place an order for a new set of lenses. And before it’s all over, I’ll be walking around in glasses for two or three weeks, negotiating a fuzzy wuzzy world.
Stupid football cornea…
I have a very important question for you guys: do you say the current year is twenty eleven, or two thousand eleven? I’m sad to admit that I switch back and forth. Apparently I haven’t yet decided how I’m going to deal with this thing.
Twenty eleven is the logical choice, because it’s quicker. But I sometimes default to two thousand eleven. What about you? I’ve heard some people say two thousand and eleven, but that’s out of the question. I mean, seriously.
Bring us up to date (get it?) on this important matter, won’t you? Use the comments link below.
Thanks to everyone who offered to proofread my novel. I received more than twenty responses, and I’m humbled by the generosity. I only need two people to go over it, though — to check for grammar and spelling, etc. So I’m going to have to make a decision soon. I still need to do one final read-through, then I’ll be ready for some serious proofreading.
There are some exciting things going on with the book. But I’ll refrain from droning on and on about it here. It’s coming together nicely, though. I’m all fired-up, and hoping the finished product will be available in April. Please stay tuned.
One thing’s for sure… I’ll need to have it finished before May 21. You know, since that’s the day the world is supposed to end. I’m no marketing expert, but I have a feeling sales might suffer if the novel is released after human civilization ceases to exist.
Of course, I’m joking. I don’t believe the world is going to end on May 21. But what if we got confirmation, in some way? What if we found out that this crackpo-, I mean Biblical scholar is correct, and we all have four months, or so, to live? How would you spend your remaining time?
And that’s your Question of the Day. Please tell us all about it in the comments. And I’ll be back tomorrow.
Have a great day, boys and girls!
As the late night scholar I am, I think if I knew the world was ending, I’d probably do all the things society tells us not to…I’m talking about eating copious amounts of red meat, drinking heavily, shooting guns, wasting gas, doing donuts and generally being a redneck asshat from here to quickly closing eternity. Maybe that’s just me, though.
I’m a two thousand eleven gal, myself. I can’t get into the whole twenty-eleven thing. It’s like my Grandpa always saying ought-six… just sounds goofy.
My ex wore the hard lenses and he always put a wash cloth down in the bottom of the sink before he would take them out, just in case he dropped one. Perhaps you should add that to your little OCD ritual.
I thought the end of days thing wasn’t until 2012? I must have missed something. Or is this some other whackjob, not the Incan whackjobs? Either way, I’m still making my mortgage payments and not eating ungodly amounts chocolate in anticipation of the end of civilization. If it happens, well, I’ll arrive at the pearly gates with good credit, low blood sugar and a little pissed that I basically died as a lived, a overly conservative good girl.
Deb: If you know you’re gonna regret having been a good girl, live it up a little! Carpe diem, my friend. You don’t have to go totally to the dark side, shooting herion or blowing the college football team. But whatever things you think the “fun girls” do that you’re too conservative to partake in, just go do it. Trust me, you won’t get sent to hell.
I also thought the end was supposed to come in 2012, but perhaps I’m confusing that with the next general election…
jtb
As to the year, I go both ways, and I go both ways on very few things.
jtb
Jeff, I thought you were going to end the story in some surpise Paul Harvey type way and say, “….not only did i find my lens, but I also found the translucent’s Lego piece.”
Twenty-eleven.
Genius!
As for the QOD, making passionate love with somebody really smart and snorting coke while listening to Remember (Walking in the Sand) by the Shangri-Las.
I have a fairly good start, since I do own the CD.
jtb
The last few months? I’d rack up a billion dollars worth of credit card debt and finally get one back on those bank bastards! Oh, and try to shag myself into next year. With a touch of drugs. Just the nice kind…
Classic Rush album = (2112) Twenty One Twelve. I’ll stick with that way of saying things. Twenty Eleven is nice and easy.
Just a clarification…I don’t use cocaine and I don’t advocate its use. It is highly habituating and long-term use can lead to long-term deleterious effects on the cardiovascular system and the brain. I would only use it in an end-of-the-world scenario or if Romeo Void got back together and toured.
jtb
John: I might like you better if we slept together.
(No, I’m not gay, all you who aren’t music-obsessed and thus don’t know what I’m referring to.)
Used to great effect in the movie “Reckless”.
Romeo Void!
Guess who has Google alert?
As John knows Romeo Void won’t get back together and tour. Banjamin our sax player as tinnitus so bad he can’t play the sax anymore (plays acoustic guitar now) Petwr Woods our guitarist lives in japan, aaron our drummer lives in Nashville and though Frank and I work together very occaisionally, just him and I do not Romeo Void make! (Unlike some vintage acts, none of us will tour as RV unless there’s a significant portion of the original band.
I however, have taken the opportunity to record an album with Peter Dunne (of Pearl Harbor and the Explosions) producing and playing guitar. It’s streaming and for sale as a cd at http://www.deboraiyall.com and also available at CD Baby as a cd or digital download and as a digital download only at iTunes, Amazon etc. online.
I say “two thousand eleven” as in get yr engine’s revvin’ in two thousand eleven : )
Find me on Facebook? Debora Iyall Music.
Twenty-Eleven.
As for the confusion about the date Jeff listed, he has a link to story about a biblical scholar, look for the blue words.
I would travel to some place tropical, live out my days on the beach, after I scavenged up a good supply of liquor as I doubt the locals are going to remain working as bartenders knowing there is only four months to live.
I’m guessing the only way this is going to work is if you are the only one who knows the end is near, otherwise it’s just going to pandemonium, I mean with all the rednecks acting like asshats and all! 🙂
Heh. We would be acting like asshats. Major ones, in fact. Because If I’m going out, it’s going to be after a lot of busch light, barbecued everything and wasting all the ammo in my basement!
I say twenty-eleven – but I switch back and forth as well. Sorry about your lens, Jeff. The washcloth in the sink seems like a good idea – or maybe just close the drain first.
2012 is when the Mayans said the world would end. It there some other crackpot trying to get the jump on them?
I was saying it “twenty eleven,” but lately I’m hearing a lot of people say it “twenny ‘leven.” Which is getting annoying…
I would spend it fucking…everything.
A word of caution – don’t read the above comment while hovering over your laptop with a mouthful of hot coffee. There are little droplets all over my keyboard now, dammit.
I’m pretty sure there’s now a little bit of Folgers in each of my sinus cavities as well. *sniff*
Twenty-eleven. One syllable shorter and I was raised on Spock-isms from Star Trek (not the baby doctor.)
As for the world ending, that would be during my summer break (i teach middle school) so i would already be wrapped up in hedonistic pleasures… sleeping late, eating supper at 10 o’clock, and reading whatever I want. Mmm.
Thank you for Bunker Cam, too– i usually never laugh this early :).
Eating supper at 10? Hmmmm……
I’m looking forward to that! How about shrimp, cheese, and vino?
Ought-lebin!
spitake!
1st rule if inserting hard contacts:
Close the drain plug.
Twentyleven
I would buy two Marshall full stacks and play sky church music 24/7. Or until my knees gave out. Naked.
Or maybe just read.
The WVSR Classic is damn frightening.
Just “meddle”ing around.
Can you get a pair of back up lenses, like I have a pair of backup glasses? Or do they degrade without use or some such nonsense?
If I ever feel like getting a quick drunk I just take off my glasses and walk around. Everything gets fuzzy and I stumble aroung a bit.
Hell, I do that and I don’t even drink.
Two thousand eleven. Something about twenty eleven just doesn’t roll off my tongue eloquently. But twenty-twelve sounds just dandy.
End of the world? Well, without sounding too GoodFellas-ish, I wouldn’t mind going down face first in a plate of pasta in a villa in Tuscanny.
Jeff, my request still stands – I’d be more than happy to peruse the book.
I say two thousand eleven. Twenty-eleven sounds dumb and only saves one syllable. It made sense in the 1900’s to say nineteen-whatever because saying either one thousand nine hundred-whatever or even nineteen hundred-whatever is too long to say when discussing something as simple as a date. I wonder how long it will be before we start using 2 digit years again in speech? (We did it for the 0-whatevers, but I haven’t heard anyone refer to “ten” or “eleven”.)
As far as if the end of the world could be confirmed, I would totally eat more “bad” food, drink more, sleep less and have a lot of sex with whatever guy appeals to me that day.
Where does the line start??
2011????? What the hell happened to 1999?!?!?!?
I haven’t had to say what year it is yet – are there people who don’t know? you have to tell them? I would say two thousand eleven.
Sheesh, the “biblical scholar” is viewed as a crackpot by the other biblical scholars. Did you catch the part where he predicted this would happen once already, but somehow he was wrong? In fact, I think the world can’t possibly end on May 21, 2011 just because it wold mean he was right. The universe just won’t let that happen.
Jeff, are you eligble for laser surgery? I know I don’t excactly love the idea of someone reshaping my cornea with a laser, but if it would get rid of the whole glasses/contacts thing maybe it’s worth it.
I wrote this a while back and sent it in to mockable. I have a longer version but I’m glad they ‘published’ this little bit for me.
http://mockable.org/friday-guest-mock-door-to-door-doom/
Twenty-eleven, because if the earth is set to turn into a spinning, charred husk in four months I don’t want to waste time with extra syllables.
I read about this dude and his prophecies before. As you’ll note in the article Jeff provided, he also said the world would end on September 6, 1994. Guess someone was writing “boobs” out on his calculator instead of engaging in actual number crunching. By the way, Camping should really dress the part of that scary preacher dude in “Poltergeist” when he’s giving his prophecies, because he’s already halfway there in the looks department.
Good Morning Surf Reporters…..
I’m in the two thousand eleven camp. Just seems more natural.
Going to JK’s contact lens crisis, my Mom always wore the hard contacts and it seems at least once a year there was an emergency where one got lost.
I’m fortunate in that at 44 years, my eyesight is still 20/20 *knock wood*. Everyone else has to wear some type of glasses or contact lens. My 17 refuses to wear his and is now pretty much legally blind in his left eye. Because, you know, wearing glasses ain’t cool, maaaan.
Twenty eleven here.
Madz62 I have a place in Tuscany you can crash in and I cook pasta like a champ.
End of the world – drinking a sex. Definitely drinking and sex. And prosciutto.
Maybe not in that order, though.
Happy Monday, Surfers!
Knucklehead, you really had me there until I read your next line: drinking a sex – what does a sex taste like? My guess would be Clamato.
That was one nasty type-o!
I’m still living in 1998 (one thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight).
If’n the world is a-gonna end directly (in May), then I reckon I’m a-gonna have me one of those mustard bicuits or some of them french-fried taters.
Mmhm
With some o dem sodey crackers and potted meat….
Come to think of it…I don’t think I ever have an occasion to actually ‘say’ the year. If I did it would be twentyeleven. I say back in the 80’s or, in ’93, etc…but it’s pretty much, “last week, the other day, tommorow, in a couple of weeks”……what year it is I leave up to the listener.
Six pack of contacts, soft Acuvue 2, and two pair of glasses. I can’t make out the big E in an eye test.
I’m sure there were discussions about this 100 years ago. Some shitcocks decided that the year 1911 should be called “One Thousand Nine Hundred (and) Eleven”. But cooler heads prevailed and we ended up with Nineteen Eleven and so on. Same thing will happen today. Twenty Eleven, all the way.
Any preacher (or whatever) that says they’ve calculated the end of days is full of shit. The Bible itself says that nobody will know. And most of the 2012 bullshit comes from the Mayan calander. As others have said, they were shit predictors, not seeing the Europeans come over and destroy their civilizations and all.
but….. the Bible says we will know the season.
I’d spend my last day drinking and raping.
Indeed, no time to worry about that conceptual crap. Find the hotties and beat their guts up, willing or not.
Consensual.
You romantic Romeo, you.
And here I thought chivalry was dead…
Two thousand eleven.
Isn’t the whole contact thing the biggest pain in the balls? ….for you….pain in the puse for me. I mean…I’d rather have them than glasses, but still. I have the disposables. Wear for two weeks then pitch. Yeah, whatever. I usually get a month out of one pair. Back in the day, I first tried hard contacts. I don’t know how you do it, man. Felt like sand in my eyes. Then I had to try the colored lens’ when they first came out. Blue. I looked like Avatar and Mr. Magoo all wrapped up in one hot mess.
I thought the end of all creation was forecasted for December 21, 2012. I, for one, would leave my job. If someone told me right now it was inevitable, I’d walk out right the fuck now. I party and screw my way through the end. Bitch slap a few asswipes along the way.
two THOUsand eLEVen works because it is a pair of amphibrachs.
WB in OH – look for the blue words – heh
Twenty-Eleven – for the same reason you wouldn’t say One thousand nine hundred and eleven – or any such variation. Probably the reason we are having this entire debate though is because nobody wanted to be walking around saying Twenty-hundred in 2000. That shit got us in this whole “thousand” mess in the first place.
Four months left? First thing I do is quit this job.
I would probably spend my last days getting my hands on a lot of hallucinogens and partying until the end. Or preferably drink and do drugs until I pass out and sleep through it or whatever. I sure as hell wouldn’t be wearing my ‘Sunday Best’ and holding the ‘Good Book’ up to the sky waiting for God to take my soul. I hate how the crackpots make it sound so wonderful and peaceful. Shit, if the world is blowing up around you, you’re not going out peaceful. Your going out painfully and heartbroken. Dumb assholes crackpots/heads.
Anyway, I say two thousand eleven and twenty eleven. I also still frequently say two thousand ten, which I’m sure is a common occurance for most at the beginning of a new year.
What I mean to say was Dumb asshole crockpots. The heads part was an indication they were also crackheads. Just wanted to clarify.
I like making beef stew in my Dumb asshole crockpot.
What do you cook in an asshole crockpot? Rump roast
LOL! I actually say crotch pot you’re both wrong.
Mostly Twenty Eleven. Whatever flows easiest at the time.
Twenty eleven. I think rather than compare it to 1911, a better analogy would be to ask in what year the Battle of Hastings took place: was it “one thousand sixty-six” or “ten sixty-six”? The latter sounds better to my ear, besides being the way people say it.
Sex and drugs and rock and roll sounds just about perfect.
.
I pronounce it 2011.
A good friend was “born again” (yeah, in quotes. That might tell you something about how I feel about that.), and now believes that the Rapture will occur. So I’ve told him that when that happens, and I’m left behind (that’s a given), I’ve got dibs on his truck. I’m constantly on his ass to take care of the truck–get it serviced, take it to the car wash, upgrade the rims, etc. (can you tell I don’t really know much about trucks?)–anything and everything necessary to make sure that I’ve got one hell of a ride after the Rapture.
I’m just looking forward to the day when the only women around are the “bad girls”. Oh hell yes….
…and lot’s of bitches and sons of bitches too
http://eternal-earthbound-pets.com/
Born again huh? Either saw the light or felt the heat.
Saw the light or felt the heat – fucking brilliant. I’ll have to remember that the next time my mother in law starts spewing Bible quotes at me.
I am going to finally screw the 16 year old girl that lives across the street and loves to parade in front of her window naked at night.
Twen-uh-leven. Rolls off the side of the tongue in a nice Midwestern way.
Spoze I’d eat a lot of red meat, particularly barbecue, and drink lots of tequila. Buy a bunch of crap I don’t need and only pay the minimum on my credit card. Yep, it’d be a real party around here!
The calendar they gave me at the bank says the world will end on midnight, next December 31st. But those calendars always say that.
I’m going off the board and am adopting
twenty-ex-eye….20XI. I saw it on the side of a Nike hat and think it’s cool.
OMG you totally rectified not being able to BACK UP the box-o-beds by grabbing a wrench and searching the U joint of the plumbing.
At THREE AM
…saddened as I am to hear the outcome
you gave it your all, buy golly!
Has anyone been to Scotland? WHat is there to do there, if I were to plan a trip.
Scotland is the truly undiscovered country. A great place, even if the weather can be a bit uncooperative at times.
Edinburgh is beautiful and gets all the tourists, but the people are a bit stuck up and full of themselves. Good museums and castles.
Glasgow is more of a “big shoulders” type of city, but with the friendliest, warmest people on the planet. Some first rate museums, also.
Apart from Fife (St. Andrews especially), the east coast is bland and unappealing. There are some single malt distilleries dotted along the way to relieve the boredom of the moorish scenery.
The west coast is where it’s at, for scenery in particular. There is a great drive you can do up the shores of Loch Lomond from Glasgow, up and over to Oban (alternatively up the Glencoe) to Fort William and then further north to places like Kyle of Localsh and the Isle of Skye. Skye is interesting but doesn’t live up to the hype, IMHO. The Tallisker Distillery is the highlight – first rate single malts and a beautiful location.
A place I can strongly suggest for serene and spectacular natural beauty is the Coigach penninsula and a place called Achiltibuie. It overlooks the Summer Isles and the drive around the penninsula is one of the most riveting I have ever done.
A bit north of Coigach is a place called Lochinver, which also has some great rugged scenery.
If you have time, the Outer Hebrides islands are accessible by ferry from Ullapool, just south of the Coigach, These are very remote, very rustic islands with an interesting language and history.
The other Islands that are popular are Jura, Arran, and Islay – distilleries abound and they are gorgeous in their own way.
You will also find that if you come through London you have sticker shock (the prices look high and you realize they are in pounds, not dollars, so it is double what you thought), and it disappears a bit when you get to Scotland. It’s a pretty affordable place compared to the rest of Britain.
Herendeth the travelogue.
hell, now even I’m interested in Scotland–but only because of the Scotch, I think. That, and Scotland sounds a lot like the midwest, with more shitty weather.
Check out the Edinburgh Festval.
I live between Perth and Dundee.
(Errol)
Depends what you want to do.
Its not cheap.
I briefly went through Scotland in 1989 but remember almost every detail of that gorgeous country. GO! Just go!
Hey, Knucklehead…
Were you in San Francisco when Romeo Void started playing in public? I think of them as a uniquely SF band, half art/half music. Debbie Iyall was born on a Reservation about 200 miles from my home town. but she’s one of San Francisco’s children, through and through.
jtb
I saw them several times back in the day – at the Warfield theater at least twice that I remember. I was in/near SF my whole life (born in ’62)
I’m actually starting to go a little nutty without live music. Europeans have the SHITTIEST taste in music…
Knucks,
If I lived where you live, I’d be eying up that Montreux Jazz Festival every summer. Some pretty good stuff to be had there, it seems. But maybe you’re not a jazz fan. “In hell the rock stars are Belgian”, or something.
.
Knucklehead…
I envy you the experience of seeing RV live. Man, with Benjamin Bossi wailing on sax, Frank Zincavage all over the bass, and Debbie belting vocals that had to be a great experience. I’m 12 years older than you, and, by 1967 was closely following Jeff Airplane, the Dead, Hot Tuna, New Riders of the Purple Sage, Big Brother and many other Bay Area bands. I imagine some of them were still playing locally when you were old enough to go to concerts.
Thanks for sharing memories.
best,
jtb
I’ve
A friend of mine lived right in the middle of HA, and remembers seeing Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Richard Brautigan and Gary Snyder walking through the neighborhood. I’ve been a fan of all three since the 60s. You were at ground zero of the American Renaissance of the 50s, 60s and 70s. That’s very cool.
best,
jtb
Yeh, apparently they closed all the music schools in Europe some time ago. I don’t understand that Euro-trash techno at all.
Two thousand and eleven. Of course!
The ‘and’ is abbreviated to a ‘n’ sound, so it comes out more ‘twothousannnliven’.
Seems ridiculous when its explained like this, but thats how people say it here.
I’ve started a new campaign. I now pronounce it “You don’t know what year it is? What the hell, man!”
Followed by feverishly running my hand through my hair.
Hey now. I might be a visitor from the future. Or the pasture.
.