RyanHarne.com

Olfactory. What a kooky word. Same thing with kooky. But after a heavenly olfactory experience today, I was quickly thrown into a flashback segment complete with the perimeter wavy effects.

At the top of the charts, and I believe there is no doubt in my mind, is the first step into Bollo’s. With the random people who smoke out front or leave their cigarettes to drag away on their own, the first whiff of coffee and baked goods is divine. My appreciation for the hinted scents of cigarette smoke is similar to some people’s regard for a candle store - in small traces it is a perfect touch, but begins to deteriorate the ambience quickly as the trace turns to a sickening dosage. Thus, having the occasional hint of cigarette smoke immediately before entering Bollo’s is like an ill esteemed decoration. But the true supernal experience lies behind those spider-webbed doors where you are entreated to a smorgasbord of smells covering the spectrum of coffees and fresh-baked pastries. Deee-vine!

Today’s olfactory joys were most delightful. Upon approaching the house, I discovered a trace of… something… something in the air. It was recognizable but not immediately grasped. Thus, I walked ’round the house and it hit me. Downy fabric softener being pumped through a dryer indoors and then being exhaled through a small “exhaust” vent outside. I adore that smell. Reminds me of childhood, for some reason; or rather, it reminds me of innocence, even if it is pressurized through your clothes so they’ll retain the scent.

All I want to do right now if make some espresso and have that hovering scent move around the house. So without further ado…

You’d think that my generally strong handling of new technologies would fully propel me through the “office atmosphere”, with not as much as a trivial hold-up due to file syncing. But I have one incapacitating weakness in the common office technology infrastructure.

The copy machine. I just can’t figure these things out. Or rather, they just can’t figure me out. When I want a simple, one-sided, non-stapled, generic/unexceptional/garden variety copy, I am bound to have some problem. “X31″ or “Follow Error Code 3″ will vehemently flash at me as if I had violated the Patriot Act. I can follow Error Code 3 all day long and I’ll never solve the issue. These large (and often clamoring) devices have baffled me for years, with no foreseeable end in sight. Copy machines are the devil, and our Xerox Mrs. Fix-it is an exorcist.

As a salve for my copy machine woes, the coffee is tasting better. Perhaps someone heard our half-hearted complaints about the coffee machine needing cleaning. Whatever works.

In the olde days, when I wrote nothing more than a brief synopsis of my vapid life (which has turned out considerably better than vapid, thank you very much), I very often would critique movies that I saw. Some of the highlights were seeing Eight Legged Freaks with Jeremiah and nearly walking out; being blown away at my first viewing of Minority Report, the first Tom Cruise movie I had seen to that date; and laughing for hours with Adam after sitting in for The Core, which still holds one of the highest honors in my Hall Of Shame.

Some may know of my love for chocolate. And if you didn’t know that, well, I’ve spilled the cocoa beans. Even forgetting the immense inclusion of candy in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, the original film, starring Gene Wilder, is one of my favorite movies. It is just so stunning, quizzical, and morbidly mysterious. I wish someone would discover some enchanting album that happens to sync with the film just like “Dark Side of the Moon” syncs with The Wizard of Oz; that would make the film all the more better. As an aside, the DVD of WW&tCF has a wonderful look into the making of the film, complete with an interview with Roald Dahl!

So, anyways, while in Boston, the group of us decided we must see the new Depp-ed out version of C&tCF. I was not a bit hesitant; from watching the trailer of the movie, I was less than impressed; but to settle my inhibitions, or to blow away expectations, I had to see it.

I think it is fair to say that the rest of the group was astounded by it. And I was to, for a Burton movie. You can tell, quite clearly at that, that Tim Burton fully disregarded the existence of the original WW&tCF and directed something from another starting point galaxies removed. As if Depp was the first Wonka. As if Annasophia was the first Violet Beauregarde. As if.

(The usage of “Charlie” instead of “Willy Wonka” in the title tells much as well; “Charlie” is the book’s term, while “Willy Wonka” was decided on in the 1970s as a buffer for the proximate release of the Willy Wonka candy bar, which eventually floundered, despite the film’s success).

The new film is good, yes; but I just prefer Mr. Wilder’s darker antics. His manipulation of Wonka’s character is a spectacle to watch and reveals that hint of the insanity arising from betrayal, a demanding candy industry, and living with hundreds of tiny, sing-song aborigines. Depp does a fantastic job, but almost makes Wonka into a sort of ignorant person. Yet, at the same time, I think that is the Tim Burton-direction shining through.

So the new C&tCF just isn’t for me. It’s good, yes, and I may even buy the DVD; but it is not my bar of chocolate.

But Coca Cola succeeds, in my book, in their reinvention of the zero-calorie pop. Coke Zero has my two thumbs up. All but the name. Zero? That’s similar to hearing a football team named “Defense”; exemplifying one side while ignoring the other (in this case, Coke points out the 0 calories, but doesn’t say anything of the true-to-original taste). Oh well. Coke Zero beats Diet Coke by five shakes of a leg. Indeed. Pepsi is just gross.

I was at the Potomac Mills IKEA this weekend. Assuming I will maintain my single for the fall semester, I want to make it as apartment-like as possible. But even if I do get some random vagrant, angry at their former roommate, tossed into my pad.. well, … I can make the most of it. That’s why they make bright gaffer tape. And label makers. And electric fences.

On a brighter side, I will have the lovely espresso maker with me this fall. Despite the many regulations against appliances that heat things up (toasters, mini-grilles, candles, etc.) they, in fact, allow coffee makers. I could only assume an espresso maker would be no different. I have no 8A.M.s this semester, but I will still start off a long day with a harsh shot of Bollo’s finest blend, made fresh from my room. That is something to look forward to. There are other things I’m looking forward to, and that’s why there is a Countdown widget.

Robert Atkins wanted people to slow down with their carbohydrate intake. Hollywood’s hottest seem to support that ideal, mentioning the typical stay-away-from-excessive-carbs in their list of healthy living measures. The famous Nutrional Information guides on all food goods suggest about 240-270 grams of carbohydrates per day, depending on your physical activity and physical build.

Not me. No. I can eat a loaf of bread without flinching. Granted, I have a rigorous workout schedule and burn through the energies carbs provide, but I still eat sometimes twice the recommended portion of carbohydrates in my daily life. This frail, benign little body consumes carbohydrates like there is a never-ending shortage at the grocer. And if there was a shortage, this frail body of mine would likely shrivel up into a prune. ::shudder::

Perhaps, it is just my body type and composition; others have the ability to consume cholesterol without adverse effects, and still others have the ability to swallow swords or spew fire. I can’t spew fire; though, at times, my words pierce like swords. What am I saying?

I apologize. Sometimes the carbs go straight to my head. Ahhh… that’s where the excess is going.

Should Google persevere with their opening date of 2007, I will be the first person in line for a job at their new facility. Even if I don’t get the job, I’m certain Starbucks is willing to open up a facility adjacent to Google’s lunar location, and I could quickly become a barista for-hire.

Think about the possibilities… near zero-gravity cubicle arrangements could increase workspace efficiency ten/thousand/million-fold; a complete and newborn market for lunar-ready goods and services (and their subsequent advertising); a $200 Frappucino. In addition, as faulty humans full of waste and destruction, we wouldn’t have to fear our environmental impact - no atmosphere for combustion engines, no trees or fertile land to squander, and no guilty feelings for our misuse of resources (at least for a few centuries).

I believe the opportunities are quite endless if we all shifted our focus away from the overcrowded populus called Earth and looked skyward to our silent but bountiful satellite.