Hillbilly S Makes Great Technology Strides in '06

Since I'm not including a fascinating year-in-review newsletter in my Christmas cards this year, I thought I should let you know my major accomplishments of the year.

By then end of December, I will have:

• a cell phone
• an iPod
• DSL

Yes, for me, this is big. Yeah, I also got a new digital camera, too, but I have pretty consistently been willing to fork out cash for cameras, so that's not earth-shattering.

What's really cool about the three items above is I'm only paying for the DSL -- the other two were free.

Now, I don't want to go overboard, but I'm thinking that by the end of 2007, I might just have my very own electric clothes dryer!*

*Ok, to be fair, I have a clothes dryer in the basement that runs, but it's ca. 1950, and I'm too terrified of its energy consumption and fire-starting capabilities to use it.

Bad News for Preston Coyotes

What pays more than a pound of copper?

A dead coyote in Preston County: $25.

Maybe. Here's an article that appeared today saying the coyote bounty would be discussed. I thought I heard this evening on the radio that the measure was approved, but I haven't been able to find any confirmation online.

Club Hardscrabble Welcomes Romania, Party of 23 Million

Thanks so much to Crazy Cat Lady for informing me that Romania has been added to the media's list of hardscrabble places.

The article's about the movie Borat, which reminds me -- how did WV not get made fun of in that movie? Is it possible the producers didn't get the memo about the obligatory Appalachia slam that must be included in such films? Or perhaps I just haven't heard about that yet, with so many other parties offended by their portrayal.

Chance Remarks - How I Came to Hate My Teeth

When my permanent teeth came in, I was greeted with the a most awful set of teeth. I didn't notice it much; as a kid I was far more concerned about who was going to sit by me at lunch, whether the snow would melt before I could get home from school to sled in it, etc.

My dreadful teeth caused my mom a great deal of anxiety, though, and she realized my crooked teeth would not help me in life. I had an operation that was supposed to remove something (I was a kid - I don't remember) and allow my front teeth to go together naturally.

ha.

That didn't work.

I wound up getting braces really early, and I had them for eons. And then the festive retainer after that. We're talking years of teeth annoyance and discomfort.

So, when the braces finally came completely off, and the retainer was gone, I felt free and as if my teeth had been completely fixed. I didn't worry at all about my teeth because I knew they'd been drastically transformed for the better.

Then, one early spring day of my senior year of college, I was in the office of one of the college administrators for a friendly conversation about a completely unrelated topic. I mean, really, why would I go to an administrator to discuss my teeth? Yes, it was completely out of the blue at the end of the conversation when he said, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

My first thought was that he wanted to know if I was related to someone he knew. I had distant relatives in the community, and perhaps he had connected my surname with theirs.

"Sure," I said.

"Do you ever feel self-conscious about your teeth?"

Huh -- my teeth? There's something to be self-conscious about? I spent all this time worrying about my weight and it was my TEETH that I should worry about?!

"No," I replied.

"Good for you!" He said, in a tone you'd use with someone who managed to live a normal life in spite of a horrible disfigurement.

"My daughter's the same way," he continued. "Her teeth are just like yours, with those streaks and discolorations. I've asked her if she wouldn't like to have them fixed and she always says no."

He was a man who probably had the means to fix just about any dental problem that arose in his daughter's life. She should have taken him up on the offer. I'm currently weighing the cost of veneers vs. the cost of fencing in the backyard -- fence? or teeth? (for now, I'm trying the drastically less costly option of Crest Whitestrips)

"Yeah, it's never bothered me," I said, not adding, "up till 2 minutes ago."

He patted my back, we exchanged parting words, and I exited the building, making a beeline for my dorm room. My face burned with embarrassment.

I rushed into the bathroom and switched on all the lights. I stared at my teeth for a long time, discovering that, oh-my-gosh, he was right. I had streaks in my teeth, primarily the top front four teeth. The streaks were noticeably more pronounced depending upon the light (I tried lots of different combinations). I have been obsessed with the streaks since that very day. (mottling appears to be the word of choice to describe these streaks)

Now yes, come to think of it, I did recall my mom inquiring about the streaks on occasion during early childhood visits to dentists, but a decade of orthodontic hell had buried that memory -- until the encounter with the administrator who was the parent of a mottle-toothed daughter.

So now I'm getting ready to try the Whitestrips. I'm not expecting it to really have any effect, but my current dentist said to give it a try because it couldn't hurt.

Median Politics

Political signs placed in the right-of-ways were a big no-no this year, as I mentioned before.

But some people figured out that if they placed signs there last night (or this morning or whenever), their signs would remain throughout the day because the DOH was off work for election day. The most egregious display I saw was the median of Route 705, but there were signs elsewhere, too, and from both political parties.

My voting experience was without incident. I used one of the touch-screen machines. My precinct had at least three of these machines, or maybe even four.

I am still not crazy about voting out in the open. The machines and the sign-in and check-out tables are all in one relatively small space, so you're there with all the poll workers and the people waiting in line with no barrier between you and everyone else. And the poll workers are a jovial lot, so there's conversation and the usual greetings as people they know come in to vote. I know it wasn't possible for anyone to see my screen, but I'd prefer to be enclosed so I could concentrate a little better.

Election Eve

It’s gonna be lonely after tomorrow. No more calls from the candidates – Democrats and Republicans. No more mail. No more cheery ads on TV.

I hope I will find a way to go on.

So, I have done something I’ve never done before: I’ve compiled a list to take to the polling place tomorrow. This can mostly be attributed to my increasingly poor memory, rather than an unusually strong interest in this election.

In previous years, I’ve attempted to educate myself on the candidates in the smaller local races (e.g., county commission and magistrate). The problem was, I’d get in there to vote and I wouldn’t be able to recall the ones I’d intended to vote for. Or I’d go in and find out I’d been looking at candidates from a different district, and the ones presented on my ballot were entirely unknown to me. So I voted for no one.

Well, not this year, by George! Just to be sure, I’m writing down candidates from surrounding counties, just in case they slip a Preston or Marion County ballot in on me. Oh yeah, I’ve got all my bases covered this time.

It’s pretty silly, I suppose, that I worry so much about this when there are probably dead people out there casting votes.

Me and My Trick-or-Treater

I don’t know her name but I feel some sort of connection to her, my lone trick-or-treater of 2006.

She was here last year, too. I’m lucky to get 2 or 3 trick-or-treaters each year, so each one is memorable.

She’s an older girl. I’m guessing between 10 and 13. She travels alone—no siblings in tow or parents waiting at the street. I assume she lives nearby. Or at least I hope so. It seems kind of dangerous for her to be out alone.

This year, 50 minutes of the trick-or-treat hour ticked by without a ring at the doorbell. I started wondering about the older girl and whether she would be out this year. That stage of life was painful for me. There were so many kid things that I loved doing, like trick-or-treat, but at the same time I wanted to be a grown-up. Maybe she’d finally decided she was too old. Maybe her friends at school convinced her it wasn’t cool. Maybe her brothers had teased her.

When the doorbell rang and I saw it was her, I was extra happy. She was enjoying trick-or-treating for one more year, and I wasn’t going to have all of the M&Ms left to eat myself!