A "Caution: Wet Floor" Sign in World History

I'll be honest, I don't make a habit of reading FWD messages in my inbox but this one was probably the best piece of mass recipient mail sent by electric carrier that I've ever received.

It went a little something like this:

Railroads

Does the statement, "We've always done it like that" ring any bells?

The US standard railroad gauge (distance between the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number. Why was that gauge used?

Because that's the way they built them in England, and English expatriates built the US Railroads.

Why did the English build them like that?

Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that's the gauge they used.

Why did "they" use that gauge then?

Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they used for building wagons, which used that wheel spacing.

Okay!

Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing?

Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break on some of the old, long distance roads in England, because that is the spacing of the wheel ruts.

So who built those old rutted roads?


Imperial Rome built the first long distance roads in Europe (and England) for their legions. The roads have been used ever since.

And the ruts in the roads?

Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing. The United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet 8.5 inches is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman war chariot. And bureaucracies live forever.

So the next time you are handed a specification and wonder what horse's ass came up with it, you may be exactly right, because the Imperial Roman army Chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the back ends of two war horses!

Now, the twist to the story:

When you see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. These are solid rocket boosters, or SRB's. The SRB's are made by Thiokol at their factory in Utah. The engineers who designed the SRB's would have preferred to make them a bit fatter, but the SRB's had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site.

The railroad line from the factory happens to run through a tunnel in the mountains.

The SRB's had to fit through the tunnel.

The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track, and the railroad track, as you know, is about as wide as two horses behinds.

So, a major Space Shuttle design feature of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of a horse's ass.

...There Are Two Sides To Every Person...

...at least those who don't suffer from dissociative identity disorder.

Somewhere along the line we convince ourselves to hide 'the crazy', that little part of ourselves we only show family, and close friends...really close friends. We tell ourselves that this uninhibited, silly type of behavior is unbecoming and embarrassing so we keep it...tucked away. The thing is, you can't get rid of it. Those little idiosyncrasies grow and they will, eventually, come out. 'The crazy' is known to be a relationship saboteur, but it's not. If we would just let our true personalities shine all the time then there would be no lies about who you are, and people who like you will like you and not who you pretend to be for social norm sake. What's so wrong about telling a new potential friend (or potential whatever in some other cases) you still get a kick out of jumping in puddles, or that although you're an adult, clowns really freak you out, or, explaining a musical genre as being akin to over-masturbating.

Why are the first out of my mouth, "Sorry, that was a really odd thing to say, wasn't it?". But, I'm not really sorry, not at all actually. I say what I feel at the moment but then feel the need to apologize for and explain my behavior. The truth is, I love my 'crazy' and it makes me fidgety when I'm put in a situation where I can't say exactly what I want to say (though sometimes a certain level of tact is needed, this I have never minded), I start biting on my lips and my fingers go straight into my mouth for some nail pseudo-nibbling (I quit biting my nails a while back but sometimes I like to go through the motions without actually biting them off).

I like honesty from people, not mean people just honest people...there's a big difference. Simon Cowell likes to be mean but he'll never actually admit to how he actually just likes to touch his own chest because he likes the feel of his nipples through 100% cotton shirts (I don't know for sure but it sure looks like it doesn't it?)

I've got to learn how not to be apologetic for my likes and dislikes...I no longer care if some find me immature, I know I'm not...I just like experiencing life as I've never lived it before because everyday you wake up is a day you've never seen before...I hate that jaded feeling and I've learned to let it go....so here are few things that I'd like to share and get off my chest...my crazy:

I am, in fact, VERY frightened by clowns...all clowns.

I have a irrational fear of little people (I'm working on that one because it makes me feel prejudice but it's true)

I hate feet.

I still sneak in the occasional cigarette

Weed does make certain experiences better...do not ever equate marijuana to hardcore drugs that can kill from the first dose...that's just stupid. If we can acknowledge there are different levels of murder than certainly we can come to the same conclusion with pot and other drugs.

I'll get up in the middle of the night to find a cooler spot on the bed.

I've laughed so hard that I've peed a little in my undies before...also, I have doubled over from laughter, had my stomach muscles ache from laughing so hard and cry from laughing quite often (which in itself makes other people laugh because my face turns completely red)

Having a kid has taught me how to have childlike wonder for the world, my kid is awesome like that.

I am easily amused and will at least giggle at anything...I don't care much for elitist senses of humor.

I fall in lust with almost every (straight) guy I meet, if only for a few seconds, just because I like the adrenaline rush... very few of those initial attractions ever turn into something of substance...in fact, I can count those in one hand and not use all five fingers.

I've never been in an equal and healthy relationship...but turbulent ones make for really good writing material.

I sometimes get sucked into those tabloid shows then feel the need to spiritually cleanse myself for watching that crap.

I lack rock star ego...apparently that's something I need to work on..."Sonia what would you like backstage?"....."I will require a tank of full grown sea monkeys, 12 Lava Lamps in assorted colors, and 6 giant durable straws with paper balls ready for spitting."....There, rock star-ish enough?

I have an uncanny ability to feel empathy for strangers and most of the time I wish I didn't.

I love to hug people, especially if it catches them off guard.

I think it's weird when guys open doors and act chivalrous...not that I don't like it...it's just weird.

I can be superficial.

I fear I just might be sexy...because having sex appeal is too much of a responsibility.

I always have to have a crush...even when I'm dating someone.

Most of the crushes I've had are for men who are not attracted to me in the slightest...this is purposeful...because it's emotionally safe.

I suffer the stereotypical male emotionally reclusive tendencies...I'll never talk about the things in the deepest regions of my heart but I let myself be vulnerable in song.

Commitment gives me the jeebe jeeves....is that how you spell jeebe jeeves?

I have no qualms about my emotional baggage or about having to find closure on my own.

I don't look it but I can kick someone's ass if I have to but I hate actually getting angry, my hands start to shake.

I bite my lip to hide my smiles as a defense mechanism...usually, whenever I meet new people but this is especially true around people with whom I feel chemistry but don't want to.

I do cry...but only when I'm sure no one's watching.

I'll watch any movie with Jack Black or Will Ferrell in it...and I do mean any movie.

I love to see other people's crazy.


Show me your crazy.

Love,
Sonia

The Amazing Dissapearing Act of One Miss So'Mo' The Bashful

I'm still getting used to compliments. Call it low self-esteem issues or social anxiety, it's probably a stew of both.
Someone should invent a better phrase than "thank you". I feel I've over used it so many times that I've started saying it in different languages just to make it interesting...Gracias, Grazie, Danke schön, Dank u, Merci beaucoup, Shrukan gazilan, Shukriya, Tack, M goi, Puno hvala, Toda raba, Arigato gozaimasu (gozaimashita). It seems wrong to use the same phrase that you use when the cashier at Target finishes a monetary transaction with people who take the time and spend their personal energy just to come and hear you sing a few songs.

Every time a person comes up to me and compliments the music that is created through this shy, often blushed body of mine what I want to say back to them is, "you have no idea what it means to me that you came tonight to be my musical and emotional lover. Now let's hug for a minute and you can tell me your secrets like I told you mine." That's the kind of connection I like to feel with people when I play...it's a type of distant intimacy that is not easily replicated. But that shit is creepy so I don't say that. Instead I smile, shake hands, hug when I can and when they're receptive to it, and say, "Thank you."

I guess my thanks is shown in shows...I try and have kick ass ones. I sing whole-heartedly and try to present myself as vulnerable and naked as I can muster.

So, until some one does come up with a better way I'll say, "Thank you" and when you're at a show and you hear it coming from my lips, know what I mean is, "I love you."

The Ten List

Someone told me today that if you voice your hopes and wants they're more likely to come true, so here goes something.

These are the top ten thing I want to do before I grow too old and senile to remember my own name...in no particular order:

1) Finally learn Japanese
2) Tour the world armed with my most mellow melodic folk/jazz/pop
3) Sky dive in order to get over fear of heights
4) Perform "It Don't Mean A Thing" with full band and actually remember all of Ella's scats
5) Make out with a guy who has an Irish brogue (I melt for the Irish)
6) Get arrested in an anti-war protest for putting flower in police riot rifle
7) Learn to play the cello
8) Have incredibly hot, monkey type sex backstage on an amp or something...rock star style (me being a rock star, not a groupie...he he, male groupies, do they wear short skirts?)
9) Finally finish studio album
10) Learn to ride a bicycle...yes I know, I'm lame that way.


So there they are, thrown into the wind.

What are your top ten? List them, let them go free....

Love,
Sonia