SoCal Adventures

OK, not adventures exactly.

I know that posting has been light. I’ve been doing hard-core actual work out here, with little time to post. But I have to relate the following story.

It’s amazing how you (or, well…me) can live somewhere for decades, and never notice a place in the neighborhood. OK, not exactly in the neighborhood, but not more than three miles from it. For the last many years we lived in Redondo, Patricia and I were always looking for good breakfast places in the South Bay. While looking for one on my own before work in Torrance, I noticed yesterday morning, for the first time ever, that there was actually a Norm’s Restaurant on the west side of Hawthorne, just north of 190th.

So I went in to check it out.

The waiter had an expensive “tricked-out name tag” that said (well, strongly implied) that his name was Ismael. I had to resist two impulses.

The first was to say, “So, can I call you Ismael?” Hardy har har.

I resisted because either a) he wouldn’t have gotten the literary reference, so he would either say “Sure, it’s my name, why not?” (leaving me feeling as foolish as I should) or b) he would get it, and say, “Yes. Please do so. I’ve never heard that one before. Well, not more than 83,436 times. Doing so will leave my sides bleeding and my spleen on open display at the continuing hilarity.” Which would also go over like the proverbial depleted-uranium blimp. Many would have done so, either because they didn’t anticipate these two almost certain responses, or because making lame jokes and being the life of the Norm’s party was more important to them than these consequences.

I also considered asking him if he had a sister named “Isfemael.” But I had only just given him my order. He hadn’t gone into the kitchen yet. One never knows what happens in the kitchen. The possibilities are endless, and disgusting.

As it turned out, they had great corned-beef hash with eggs.

8 thoughts on “SoCal Adventures”

  1. Thank you, Rand, for resisting. Being that I am Andrew Lloyd, I cannot tell you how many times I get an “Andrew Lloyd WEBBER?” joke. I don’t mind that people think about it. Hell, I don’t even mind that people say it. But I sure as hell am bothered by people who say it and think they’re the first ones to come up with it.

    Ala, the Monty Python travel agent bit:

    r. Smoketoomuch:
    My name is Smoketoomuch. Mr. Smoketoomuch.

    Mr. Bounder:
    Well, you’d better cut down a little then.

    Mr. Smoketoomuch:
    I’m sorry?

    Mr. Bounder:
    You’d better cut down a little then.

    Mr. Smoketoomuch:
    Oh, I see! Smoke too much so I’d better cut down a little then!

    Mr. Bounder:
    Yes. Ooh, it’s going to get people making jokes about your name all the time, eh?

    Mr. Smoketoomuch:
    No, actually, it never struck me before. Smoketoomuch…

  2. I always get the “JR” reference to the show “Dallas”. People ask me, “Who shot JR?” I give a weak hee..hee…hee and then mumble, “I don’t know….” You’d think since the show has been cancelled, what? 20 some odd years ago people woulda let it go by now. But nope, still get it here and there. I guess living in Dallas doesn’t help.

  3. Carl, that was amazing! I especially liked the “walking” structures. Do you have any links to an explanation of what we were seeing? Ideally, I’d like to watch an annotated version of the video, but any additional info would be great.

    Rand: I was tempted to tell an old joke in response to your post, but your story persuades me to keep it to myself.

  4. I’m not aware of any, Bob, sorry. I recognize some of it, e.g. proteins are made by ribosomes in several places, and microtubules are assembled. There’s also a beautiful little scene where an enzyme (possibly an endonuclease) snips a big polymer (possible a chromatin fiber). Beyond that…alas, I can’t keep up with this field.

  5. I used to live on the corner of Catalina and Sapphire, in the old house across from the market. I’d go to Norm’s about once a week, they have a decent prime rib for the price. If you go to the Market, they have a burger called the “Roger” named after me (middle name) I might add. It’s a standard burger topped with grilled pastrami.

  6. There are a lot worse places in the LA Metro area.

    Oh aye. But to me “dump” is only mildly pejorative. Not equivalent to the kind of place in which one would only want to be alone during daylight hours, and while armed.

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