Adventures in the Land of Highlighted Heads

Labels: Cessna 172, Cessna Caravan, Cessna Citation X

(Read the next para to yourself in Jeremy Clarkson’s top gear voice)

What do you do when you want to lose self control, poison your self, decimate your liver, ruin your lungs, clog your arteries, bleed your ears, get jostled in a crowd, get groped, get your toes stamped on and get them stamped on again for good measure , its simple really; you can either go to hell or visit a nightclub.

Well that’s what this is all about. See the other day a friend of mine had his birthday and the rest his friends decided to celebrate it in typical american fashion of getting wasted on the eve of ones birthday.
(Personally I think its a effing waste of a perfectly good day and yeah its real nice to start your birthday with a hangover I guess, effing morons).

Anyway this mutual friend of ours decided that she would throw him a party at one of the pubs. Fine, now personally I hate pubs, they are smelly places that serve junk food and ditchwater and I would never go there myself. But since it my friend’s birthday and all I went there. After all party was said and done the group decideds to go to a nightclub and party away. Now again I hate nightclubs they are noisy, smelly, people step on your feet, the stinky smoke gets in your lungs and worst of all if you are in Atlanta; heaven forbid you should be subjected to the atrocious din called “music”. I’m sure if the United Nations or whoever is the Human Rights watchdog for the world is; ever heard those devils cries they would instantly put Atlanta’s Nightclubs and their DJ's on their list of places and people that subject fellow humans to torture.

So under normal circumstances i wouldn't risk my life and limb going to a club. But then, ..... when you are stuck far from home, ......at 11:00pm....... in Atlanta ..........with a public transportation system that at best is one bus excessive of being a joke and you are at the mercy of your friends and their cars to drop you back home. You have to take the risk of entering a nightclub and then again take the risk of driving back with your friends; knowing full well that if at that very moment an alien was to abduct your friend to perform tests on humans, the alien would be reporting back to its home planet that alcohol was definilty the energy distribution system in the human body, and a certain ferrous based liquid in there was just an impruty contaminating the alcohol.

The Scene: The Nightclub's Queue
We’re waiting in the queue outside or the line as the yanks call it [ref. 2]. Its 10:50 pm and I’m just hoping the line would move faster because the last thing I want to do is pay 20 bucks (20 effing dollars that’s 800 Rs in India [ref. 3]; Holy Shit!!!; that’s worth 80 effing plates of Pani Puri money [ref.4]) to get myself into a place where I wouldn’t want to be. And to top it off, the line was moving so slowly that I could have sworn that by the time I had gotten to the door of the club my hair, yeah my hair!!!! had grown by more than an inch.

The Scene: The Door of the Night club
Bouncer No 1 (he’s collecting the money) : Sir, you’re gonna have to pay 20$
Me: but its only 11:00:26pm..... come on you can still let me in for free now cant you.
Bouncer : Sir, but there is a cover charge of 20$ after 11:00 pm
Me: Come on man, its not even 11:01 yet and all my friends are already in
Bouncer : Sorry sir its policy you are gonna have to pay to get in now.

I curse my luck for being 26 seconds late grit my teeth and pay up the money.

Bouncer No2: Could I see some ID please?
(They ID’d me even though I don’t drink, HUH!!!!)
Me: Here’s my Licence
Hand over my Indian D.L. to him
Bouncer: Sir step aside please
Me: Is there a problem
Bouncer: Kid do you think you can get in with a fake ID
Me: What no that’s for real
Bouncer: Don’t kid with me you have no last name on your license
Me: Yeah in India we don’t ever bother with last names so my license just has my initial
Bouncer: Yeah right!!!........ I’ve seen Superbad too kid………. don’t think you can pull of a stunt like McLovin with just one name, what do you take me for an idiot?
Me: Ok, give me back my license here’s my passport (My friends had already warned me to take this just in case)
Bouncer: Kid today is not your lucky day I’m gonna have to hand you over to the cops, what do you think you are doing?
Me: Now whats the problem?
Bouncer: I can recognize a fake passport when I see one don’t try to pull a fast one on me.
Me: That’s for real, that’s not fake just because it’s not American doesn’t mean its fake.

Bouncer walks up to a cop (lots of them were around the club trying to control the traffic and the people and all) and starts explaining stuff and comes back with the cop.

Cop: Son what seems to be the problem, are you trying to get in with a fake ID
Me: No officer everything is legitimate this man doesn’t seem to be okay with it though.
Cop: Can I see your ID
I hand over my passport and my license. Cop takes them and turns to the Bouncer.
Cop: These seem alright, what seems to be the problem
Bouncer: Why don’t you look at the Date of Birth officer?
Cop: Yes what about it?
Bouncer: Don’t you see it says he was born on the 11th day of the 26th month and I know that there are only 12 months so that can’t be right.
Cop (looks at the bouncer and is at a loss for words…….. five seconds later….. he hands me back my passport and license while trying to control his laughter): Go on son, have a good one and if you are driving drink responsibly.
Me: Officer I don’t drink. Thank you anyway for sorting out this mess. Good night.

Btw the title seemed appropriate since that song from the Black Eyed Peas seems to be the omnipresent clubbing song. (Yes the song is actually "Let's Get it retarded in here" as opposed to "Let's get it started in here" [ref. 1])

References:

1. The Black Eyed Peas, "Lest get it retarded in here", Elephunk, A&M Records, 2003 A.D.


2. Queue Area, “The term "queue" is used more in British English, while the word "line" is used mostly in American English”, Wikipedia, Circa 2008 A.D.


3. Reserve Bank of India, sometime early July 2008


4. Menu, any self respecting pani – puri shop in Bangalore, Circa 2007 A.D.
   
   Note : for those of you who did not yet get it dates here in the US are written MM/DD/YYYY unlike India where it is DD/MM/YYYY as on the passport and the license.

Anyway staying on theme this song seems to be a good way to finish off:

Labels: Dumb, idiot, nightclub, stupid

Yep, I could finally buy some fireworks. They were selling them at Publix which means you dont have to have a license to buy them. So i bought 8 rockets and 8 boxes of sparklers for 10$.

Damn 10$ burnt. But hey its fun.

People from home (ppl other than my parents, i.e. my relatives) kept calling me to ask me how my diwali in the US was, and i kept telling them that i went to Uncle Sam's place to celebrate diwali.
And well they in typical indian tradition thought that Mr. Sam was my local gaurdian or something and that i called him "Uncle" just like we call any other grown up man in India.
Anyway so how was my diwali at Uncle Sam's place? Read on.....

The Stage: The Night before Diwali
The Place: An apartment of a friend of a friend

This being my first diwali away from home and quite obviously I was determined to celebrate it. Anyway one of my friends said that one of his friends had invited him to her place for a diwali dinner, obviously he goes there to get some bitti food (and btw the girl’s a good cook, so why not) (and no I’m not being chauvinistic here). Anyway he gets there and there are a couple of more people, and in perfect diwali tradition they decide to lit the oil lamps and place them near the doors, to welcome goddess Lakshmi into their homes, which is all fine. They then settle in to have a nice dinner, and are enjoying their meal [2]. Then suddenly…

Knock Knock.

Who’s there?

Manager here. Please open the door.

The door is opened, and standing outside is the apartment complex Manager.

Manager: Ma’am we received a complaint of a possible arson in this apartment complex and would like you to put out your oil burning fire.

Friend of Friend (FoF): But sir this is tradition in Indian culture on this day to place oil burning lamps in front of our house doors.

Manager: I’m sorry ma’am, but the state of Georgia specifically prohibits you from placing any fuel and fire near any flammable material such as these wooden walls.

FoF: Sir Can I place candles in that case, even you people do that on Christmas and Hanukkah right?

Manager: Ok, I guess candles are alright if you can keep them in a container of some sort to prevent them from accidentally tipping over.

1 hr later

Knock Knock
It’s the cops this time.

Cop: Ma'am we received a complaint of a possible arson here and would request you to put out your candles, since they are a fire hazard.

FoF: Ok Sigh!!!

Now anyway the lamps are out and the girl seems depressed, so her other friends are cheering her up. Now my friend who’s there is also trying to cheer her up and suddenly decided to buy crackers in order to do so. Now the nitwit knows that I’m a cracker aficionado and comes to me with the possible suggestion of buying crackers. I’m all game.

So that night, we hunt online and find a shop that sells crackers and then find out that the shop closest to Atlanta is actually in the neighbouring state of Alabama. So next day morning promptly at 8am we head for the shop. On the way I have a sneaky feeling that we probably may need a license or something to explode firecrackers, so I decide to call up the shop.

Me: Hi there, can you tell me if I need a license to use fireworks and explode them in Georgia.

Shopkeeper (Bill): Sir the Georgia fireworks law allows you to use Sparklers up to 100 grams each; fountains up to 200 grams total for multiple tube items or 75 grams for each individual tube; snakes, glow worms, snappers, party poppers but for Firecrackers, torpedoes, sky rockets, roman candles you will need a license. But you can go over to Florida if you want to burst crackers and rockets. [3]

I’m dejected that no rockets but still I’ll take the sparklers and the fountains.

Me: Ok then can I get the sparklers.

Bill: Sorry sir, it’s against the law to store sparklers so we don’t have them at our showroom here, but you can get them at our showroom in Alabama.

Me: So you are saying that you can use sparklers in Georgia but you can’t store them. So how on earth do you sell those if you have your store just across the border from GA?

Bill: No sir that is because people from Tennessee come here to buy the fireworks since it is illegal there to sell them or burst them.

Me: Ok if it is illegal to buy them or blast them, then why do they buy it?

Bill: Oh! usually they go to Florida or come here to Alabama to use them, so they pick them up here, on the way from Tennessee to Florida.

Now this got me so confused that I decided screw all this, I’ll just go to the Indian restaurant and eat my way through. So I’m on my way there and then I get a call on my phone. It’s my project team mates wondering why their “Chief Engineer” is missing from the conference. So back to that World War II bunker that they call the lab then. And then the bloody conference went on for two days straight (8am to 8 pm).

So that was my diwali at Uncle Sam’s Place.

References:
1. Kreiger R., Doors The, Light My Fire, The Doors, Elektra Records, Circa 1967 a.d.
2. My friend, Circa November 7, 2007 A.D.
3. Georgia State Law

• a. 25-10 Georgia Code, Chapter 10
  
• b. NFPA 1123 adopted with modifications
  
• c. NFPA 1124 adopted with modifications
  
• d. NFPA 1126 adopted with modifications

America is the world’s greatest democracy [1] , and India is the world’s largest democracy [2], so yeah we do have something in common on the lines of democracy right. Hmmmmm, not really. This is why, in India democracy is passed on from father to son a-la Deve Gowda or a-la Indira- Rajeev etc. Well in the US they just take things right to the people themselves. And the best way to do things with people is to meet them and ask them for their options right! so they have meetings. Here in the US, we have meetings all the time, for all projects small and big, for all assignments, for all class work, for all courses etc. there are meetings, and all of them are scheduled at some other time, and you are expected to arrive for that meeting fully prepared.

In India we dont have meetings at all, someone does the job he's assigned to do and the damn job gets done (well at least most of the times anyway).

This system of meetings is so dumb, sometimes we have meetings just to schedule the next meeting (I swear, I’m not kidding, it’s that ridiculous out here.) But the height of ridiculousness is demonstrated below.

[Note: This meeting happened, but I refuse to disclose any further details as to when and where]

The situation: A mass email is sent of the people of a lab, asking them to turn up for a meeting.
The Time: 10 am circa mid-September 2007 A.D.
The Location: Some airless underground bunker, also known as a research lab.

The Entire lab congregates, and the meeting begins.

The Chairman begins by addressing the audience “Good Morning Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming here. The agenda is laid out for you on your desk. Now if any of you have any objections before we proceed, please lay them out now.”

[Young man in the back mutter “What the frggin hell are you wasting our time here for”] [3]

Chairman : “ All right, we shall proceed, as you know our lab is facing a grave risk and danger, we are all here to vote on a process and make a decision for the good of our entire lab. Please participate in the vote process only if you think you are capable of answering the question with utmost knowledge and consider yourself to be an expert in the field that the question is based. So we shall begin.”

1. Now White vs. Brown. All those in favor of white, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count]. “All those in favor of white, raise your hands” [Secretary again takes note of count].

2. Now butterflies vs. plain. All those in favor of butterflies, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count]. All those in favor of plain, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count].

3. Now 6 inch vs. 12 inch. All those in favor of 6”, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count]. All those in favor of 12”, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count].

4. Recycled vs. Natural. All those in favor of Natural, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count]. All those in favor of Recycled, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count].

5. Rose vs. Lemon fragrance. All those in favor of Rose, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count]. All those in favor of Lemon, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count].

6. 2 Ply vs. 4 Ply. All those in favor of 2 ply, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count]. All those in favor of 4 ply, raise your hands”. [Secretary takes note of count].

Chairman : “That will be all ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your effort. Based on your votes and our financial budget an effective solution will be proposed to rid us of our hardship that we currently face.”

Ok, now you must be intrigued as to what the meeting was about. No this is not some cult ritual or some initiation ceremony. It was a meeting that was held because they had run out of bog roll in the loo. AND THEY HAD A FREAKING MEETING TO DECIDE WHICH TYPE OF TOILET PAPER THE BLOODY LAB WOULD USE FROM NOW ON IN THE LOO’S.

It’s so maddening here. In India the janitor or someone will simply come in and put a new toilet paper roll once it is over. (Yeah that is if we ever use that goddamned creation). Here they need a friggin meeting to democratically decide what bog roll to use. Sheesh.

Oh, btw they finally chose: Recycled, 2 ply, white,non flavored, 6" toilet paper with nothing emblazoned on them. Why? They were the cheapest (remember budgetary constaraints).

Refrences:
[1] Dubyaman , Dont you want somebody to Love., Whitehouse, circa 2005
[2] Census Report of India, 2001.
[3] Angry Young Man on the Back., " I'm so friggin Pissed off". circa 2007.

Steppenwolf ---->  "Get ur motor runnin, Head out on the highway, Lookin for adventure, n Wateva comes our way"

Hi Ppl,

Welcome to The Adventures of Golf Oscar Delta in the Land of the Highlighted Heads*** [1] [yo ds thnx man thats ur term, way to go magaa, owe you one bro].

I have a theory here, since the US and India are exactly on the opposite sides of the world, i'm guessing everything here is done opposite the way things are done in India. And i'm on the verge of proving it simply by the prinicple of mathematical induction (PMI).

For those of you who are mathematically challenged (US' politcally correct terminolgy here, yeah!!! hows that. In India we would just have called you a plain dumbass if you didn't know that). PMI states that if say, A is a pig and B is a pig then by induction C is also a pig. Get it?

Getting back to my opposited theory:
0. We have right hand drive and the Americans, well, all i can say is they have wrong hand drive. [2]
1. In India most (statistics say 73% are vegetarians). In the US 73% are Non-vegtarians. [3]
2. In India we wash, here they wipe (eh!!! you know what). [4]
3. In India we have compound walls around our houses and keep our windows open, in the US they have no compund walls and they keep their windows closed always.
4. Most Indians have IQ's greater than 130. Uh in the US.... [5]

ok enough of comparisons, my point is in this blog i want to chonicle the hilarious moments of life that take place at the interjection of life between the two peoples the Indian and the American...

From now on i shall post every Sunday a funny/retarded/hilarious event that took place the week before, here in the US. The event itself being caused by the clash of the two cultures.

so here it goes.....

P.S. Since i'm here to do my MS and then as good heavens spare me....write a bloody thesis, i figured i might start preparing for it by following the best refrencing pracitces. And also since i took an oath not to plagiarize, i hereby abide by the honor code and all facts will be hereby referenced University style.....

P.P.S This first post is dedicated to all those who made it possible for me to get to the land of the highlighted heads. So thnx dad,mum, Tsar Van An, DS, Tho, Il Tifoso,Sunando,Madan and my people.

References:
[*** 1] Rahul D.S., "The Adventures of Golf Oscar Delta in the Land of the Highlighted Heads, term coined by, circa  August 12, 2007 A.D
[2] RTO India/DMV United States, Drivers Hand Book, circa 1907 A.D.
[3] The Times of India, 43% of statistics are made on the Spot, circa 1827 A.D.
[4] Golf Oscar Delta, " A statictical Estimate of Washers vs Wipers in  the Modern World", circa 2007 A.D.
[5] Duh!!!