Public Skate: BEYOND THUNDERDOME

          Warning: Old Man whingeing ahead*.
          This weeks blog post is brought to you by Nostalgia**. So, because I have a certain predilection for nontraditional forms if recreation(and because I wanted to break in my new skates), I found myself at the  Public Skate at the local ice rink. I was expecting a nice trip down memory lane from my high school skating days and a relearning of some long forgotten skating skill.
          What I got was a two hour lesson on improper skate rink management, child rearing, and just a little prehistoric zoology.
          Close your eyes and imagine, if you will, the last time you were at a skating rink in any capacity: I imagine that the traffic of the rink traveled in a reasonably uniform direction, guided by skaters clearly marked in 'STAFF' jerseys. They do their assigned duties, whistling at the skaters going too fast or against the flow, and assisting any skaters who had yet to find equilibrium and generally promoting a safe and enjoyable experience for all participants.
          Here's the reality***: It says 'Public Skate', but what it should really add is a subtitle: 'BEYOND THUNDERDOME'****. Traffic does generally go in one direction, or at least there is usually no one going in direct opposition to the largest circle of skaters on the edge. Beyond that is anyone's game. Packs of hockey kids weave between skaters, coming out of nowhere and practicing hockey stops in just the right place to cause a loss of balance, then disappearing. But these are not the deadliest predator on the ice. This is the toddlers. Armed with a wall of plastic at their front and a noted inability to stop or maintain linear velocity, they can be compared to the Velociraptor; Like the fictional version,  they strike; Suddenly and without warning,  bearing down upon you with childlike glee*****. And like their non fictional counterparts******, they are small and can disappear as soon as they have done their terrible work.
          Aside from the direct threats, there is the general lack of management and direction. Every staff member I saw was A: not on the ice, and B: did not look disposed to go out there unless a type of raid siren required then to be.
          Now, the first thought I had, and the initial response I would guess that would come back to this post is 'Well it's a public skate. Why don't you just come to the Adult Skate, where there aren't any kids to get in the way?'. And the answer loops back to that bad management I talked about. I attended the 'Adult Skate' once while I was unemployed and I enjoyed it greatly. But I immediately noticed that the other attendees were either in their 70's, or did not work standard hours. When I called to inquired about Adult Skate hours, it became clear that the title was misleading. The Adult skate is scheduled only inside the hours when 90% of adults are at work and cannot go skating, unless they are retired.******* And that does cheese me off a bit. But I'll go back next Saturday and try not to fall as much. Rant over.

-Will

Editors Notes:
*He's one if the few people I know who would use an anti aging machine in reverse if it existed
**TM. Not to be construed as actual joy.
***Not to be construed as actual reality. More of an opinionated rant
****Roll Credits
*****GET OUT WILL. NO PUNS. WE HAD A TALK ABOUT THIS.
******Velociraptors were about 2 feet tall but had an AWESOME sounding name.
*******You cannot take early retirement just because you want to skate without children present.

Adventures in dentistry!

          I kinda fell off the horse here. I haven't posted since my SCA event and I feel pretty glum about that. My editor has been out of town and he has explicitly forbade me from posting without his oversight*.  I haven't had a whole lot worth posting lately anyways, or at least nothing supremely interesting. But in the interest of honesty, I will bullet-point all the major happenings since my last post:

• I got a job offer and am currently waiting to start
• I got a wisdom tooth pulled
• Democracy got just a little more fucked**.

          I didn't make a big deal out of the first one because its fairly boring. The process is bureaucratic and slow, but it is definitely happening. I'll probably move to a weekly posting schedule once I start.
          The tooth pulling is kinda cool in retrospect, and for those interested in very mildly grotesque stuff, here is a picture of the tooth in question:

          I had the tooth pulled in part because it had a cavity, and apparently the root was twisted in such a way as to be on the cusp of becoming an eldritch horror in my mouth which could cause boundless harm. Those are my dentist's words. But mostly because it was impure by virtue of the cavity, and the rest of my teeth constantly shunned its slovenly and consumptive behavior***. It just had to go. I retained its lifeless husk as a reminder to the others that the behavior will not be tolerated.

          The experience was a source of significant amusement for me not just in the macabre body horror of the experience, but also in the social interactions that happened throughout the process.  I have become aware through several recent appointments with my dentist that I am far from the average patient in terms of by behavior, both socially and physiologically. The dentist and associated staff, by virtue of how their necessary work is perceived by our culture at large, have to treat their patients more patronizingly than even other similar medical professions. This is part of the reason that I both didn't fault them for treating me like I was an imminent panic and flight risk, and in fact found myself assuaging their fears by assuring them that if I had no feeling, or feeling reduced to only minor pains, that they could go to fucking town on my jaw and I would just lay there thinking about soup. This is also the point in my life that I was made to understand that nitrous oxide serves no other purpose that to calm people who have dentist induced panic. Since I apparently don't suffer from that particular brand of anxiety*****, I opted to just have a local anesthetic.

          This too was a wild ride in terms of exploring what happens when you  have only half of the standard output that the brain traditionally understands as pain. I had all the pressure of the tooth being removed, but none of the actual nerve input. My brain was distinctly aware of the pressure, which according to both memory and physiological instinct should be accompanied by a equivalent measure of pain. It just never happened. Since my brain had no real way to categorize the pressure alone, it simply predicted that the relevant pain was forthcoming, so I kept feeling like I was about to be in extreme pain; on the cusp of it, so to speak. The best way I can describe it is to be the polar opposite of edging an orgasm. At least in this case, not cresting that particular wave was a good thing. 

-Will

Editors Notes:

*You should all be thanking me for this. He brought me 4 different drafts, one of which was 4 pages long, but only contained 4 grammatical sentences. It had 23 semicolons, 30 commas, and at least 20 separate sections in italics. As a person, Will serves as a significant reason I cant enjoy my vacations out of dread for what I'm returning to.

**This was the Kavanaugh confirmation. Will went to a rally to show solidarity with SA victims and I got roaring drunk and ripped apart a mannequin that was wearing a judges robe and beer helmet. We each do our own thing.

*** FOOD GOT STUCK IN YOUR TOOTH HOLE. Put down the thesaurus and stop anthropomorphizing everything.

****Will and I are opposites in this category. I bring a legal release to every dentist appointment  advising them that they are to give me "80% of a lethal dose" of nitrous oxide, otherwise I am a property damage liability.