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“You call that six inches?” - Sharon, my first real girlfriend
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I'm as tech-savvy as they come. I've been a computer programmer for a major corporation, I've been a head CIS guy, I've run my own businesses, including one where I…
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There are two kinds of toilet paper: the good stuff and the other stuff. The good stuff is fluffy and squeezably soft while the other stuff is scratchy and noticably…
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I bought some music online the other day from an outfit named " CD Baby ." They specialize in selling independent music of all genres and…
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I heard someone talking yesterday about how this pastor and his church owned half a city block and had a membership of more than five thousand people. By "Big City"…
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This past week, I took a vacation to Asheville. I don't live there yet but I've planned on moving there after the New Year. So I figured that I should…
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After succumbing to the inevitable metabolism death, I underwent The Great Diet Switch . Since that fateful day when I swore off regular sodas, I have rarely to…
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The other day, a friend asked me for help on their resume and I took a minute to write out a coupla tips on how to fix up your resume. …
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I don't care what anyone says or how many people give me wedgies for this but I think Martha Stewart is hot. Before the email barage begins, have you seen…
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Written by Ross Cavins
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Sunday, 13 April 2008 17:00 |
 Who the hell's he talking to?
This post is about those stupid hearing tests we all took in elementary school. Remember them?
You put those stethoscope-looking things over your ears while some schmuck behind a glass wall pushed buttons on a machine you couldn't see. You were supposed to raise your hand when you heard a sound.
It was usually a high-pitched tone.
This is a good measure of my hearing?
Maybe he should have whispered "You want a Twinkie?" into my headphones. That would've gotten my attention. Or "You've just failed Math" or "Jenny Thompson wants to blow you."
Okay, the last one would've only worked in high school. In elementary school, I would've probably just replied with a "huh?" and they would've failed me on that level of hearing.
 Barney is dead, kid.
I would be a child prodigy, immediately recruited by the CIA for dangerous spy missions that only someone with my unique talents could accomplish. I would infiltrate an enemy country, listen for secrets our super-spy satellites couldn't pick up, then return to save the day. Have I mentioned I loved The Six Million Dollar Man ?
Meanwhile, I can just hear my mom's reaction. "Super-hearing? My son? You must be mistaken, he can't even hear me when I tell him to clean the bathroom."
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