Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Gingers ...

So ... redheads.   We have horrible tempers, right?   We're stubborn as mules.  We don't have souls ... thanks for that one, Trey.   We are over sexed ... yeah, I'm not going there.   We are sensitive to sun ... definitely.   And researchers at the University of Louisville did a study that showed people with red hair require more anesthesia than other hair colors.  Hell, given my past tolerance for alcohol, I could've saved them some money on that study.

My first website, years ago, was called Redheads Unlimited.  I had thousands of page hits per month ... but let's be honest ... I'm sure most of them were just looking for porn.  I assure you they left thoroughly disappointed.  This was on my front page:
"All throughout history, from Reuben to Robbins, redheads have been recognized as a rare breed. Blondes may have more fun, brunettes may be brainier, but when it comes down to raw energy, creativity, and personality ... you just can't beat a redhead.  Well, you can, but beware ... she'll probably beat you back!" - Redheads Unlimited
In retrospect, I guess threatening to beat people didn't really help with the temper stereotype, huh? 

Honestly, despite my hair ... my temper isn't that bad.  I'm easy going ... it takes a lot to piss me off.   And when I am angry, I generally tend to just stop talking.   In fact, one day at work a co-worker asked me, "Did we make you angry?" and my friend laughed and said, "No ... she's still talking.  When she stops talking, that's when you need to be worried."

I'm only thinking about all this today because while I may deny having a temper ... being stubborn seems to be an accurate stereotype in my case.  I keep trying to make things work long after everyone else has chosen a better path.  If I were a mouse, I would be chewing through the maze to get to the damned cheese.  The path less traveled, indeed ...

And so today, after five years of saying my work computer was "just fine" ... I had to admit it was time to take it out in the pasture and put it out of its misery.   It was just ... dead.  Over the years I've replaced the power source ... replaced the motherboard ... added memory ... I've done everything to keep this thing on the respirator ... but today ... I pulled the plug.

Rest in peace, computah ... that'll do ... that'll do ...

Casey would waltz with a strawberry blonde
And the band played on
He'd glide 'cross the floor with the girl he adored
And the band played on
But his brain was so loaded it nearly exploded
The poor girl would shake with alarm
He'd ne'er leave the girl with the strawberry curls
And the band played on.

The Band Played On

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