Here is a picture of famous 1920s safe cracker, Stanley Conrad a.k.a. Stanley Fingers.
Hurray. I guess 100 posts isn’t really that much, but 100 of anything is pretty much a big deal for me, and to be quite frank for some other people in the world. It is the telephone number of the police in Greece, India, and Israel, the number of tiles in a standard Scrabble set, and the atomic number of fermium. Ah, fermium.
A couple weeks ago, I did a coloring sheet on Nebuchadnezzar for some kids in a Sunday School class that Alissa and I taught. A couple days ago, I decided to color it myself.
When I eat with Alissa in a restaurant, I seem to have trouble not looking behind her while she’s talking to me. It’s a problem. I get that, but last week I think it was understandable. Alissa was talking about her day and behind her a group of Japanese folk were singing “Happy Birthday” to the accompaniment of a DRUM. Yes, that’s right a drum. I’m not making this up, and it wasn’t a snare drum or anything like that, which would be weird, but sort of peppy. No this was the type of drum that MGM used when they wanted to indicate a sacrifice to King Kong. Also, the rhythms were different. The drum was sort of doing its own thing.
Let me set the scene.
Alissa: So this lady comes in and I tell her, we’ll be with you in a moment.
Group In the Back: Haaappy (BONG) Birthd (BONG) ay
Alissa: Words words words words …
Group in the Back: (Bong)
My hearing also improves when Alissa and I go out. Not my actual hearing. My peripheral hearing and it makes me easily distracted.
Alissa: What do you think?
Me: You should talk with him and say, I don’t mind stress at the job, but as long as it’s job related and not … um … and not … the … I’m sorry, I forgot what I was talking about.
Alissa: What have you been looking at?
Me: I’m sorry, there was a woman before who was like 6’5″ and she was staring at your plate like she was gunning for the top spot in a plate staring competition.
Alissa: At my plate?
Me: I think she was interested in what you ordered. And just now the lady behind you said that she shops at Wal-Mart for bar clothes because they’ll get trashed. I’m sorry, but that’s just interesting right?
Me: Yes. What are bar clothes?
Alissa: Where is she?
Me: Don’t look now, but she’s on this side (taps table with left hand) right behind you. She’s wearing a white shirt. Looks like a mom. Okay, you can look.
Alissa stretches and turns toward the door.
Me: Weird right?
Alissa: I can’t believe you heard that. I can’t hear anything.
At any rate, I’m trying to focus more when Alissa talks to me, but if I should overhear anything interesting I’ll keep you guys posted.