This morning, on the road, I saw a white truck with some interesting airbrush art on it. There was a door on the back. There was an airbrushed figure of one of those articulated wooden artist manikins on an earth tone background painted on the rear, the figure appearing to lean against the frame of the back door. It was holding an artist's paintbrush and the word "Artist" in a fancy silver font was blazed next to it. On the front and driver's-side door of the truck, the artist had airbrushed the effect of various-sized metal plates joined by rivets, similar to old aircraft fuselages.
I was just thinking of how interesting it was when people decide to customize their vehicles when I had a flash of insight about something which had been puzzling me since yesterday. On the way to work yesterday I saw a lady in a gray BMW Z3 Roadster whose license plate read 9RZGAL. I can't believe that this one stumped me. Obviously, she's a San Francisco 49er's fan. D'oh!
After my last post, my brother has been on my mind lately. He's a funny duck but he means well. He's got an odd sense of humor and sometimes it gets going faster than his sense of tact can supervise. My brother is a bond underwriter. My friend Tom, who also works in the insurance industry, once told me that there is a joke in the insurance industry along the lines of there being an underwriter so dull that even the other underwriters notice, nevertheless my brother is not a dull guy. He's actually pretty funny and interesting most of the time. He holds a conversation well, was very popular with the girls in high school, and is generally a gregarious and outgoing person. He's an ESTJ, so he comes at the world from an entirely different perspective than I do but I think I have picked up some insights through dealing with him over the years. Case in point: Once upon a time his yard was invaded by a group of rabbits. At the time, his wife and children, and perhaps himeself as well, were engaged in various gardening endeavors. I'm sure that his first and last thinking on the situation before acting was something like: "I must protect my family's cherrished horticulture projects from these voracious vermin!" So, he shot the rabbits. It never occurred to him that the wife and kids may have treasured the fauna more than the flora and it didn't occur to him to ask or even announce his intentions before hand — he saw his duty and he did it. Silly ESTJ. He was in the doghouse with the family for a week after that one.
This winter, my mom grew concerned about their dog. It's gotten pretty cold there this year and my brother's family's dog lives outside. She has a doghouse but it's nothing fancy and my mom worries every time she sees the evening news offering advisories about bringing the pets indoors on particularly cold and windy days. Apparently she spoke to my sister-in-law about my brother's inclination to regard the dog as "an outdoor pet" who did not need to be indoors. Chris then mentioned going out the previous day and finding the dog ... in the garage ... sleeping ... curled up in a blanket she had been provided. Since my brother had been the only one up at the time, he had obviously been the one who brought the dog in and gave her a blanket, sometime the night before or in the morning before heading off to work.