SH is a car guy. A car, plane, train and ship guy. He reads voraciously, as I do, but when he reads, he reads about cars and planes and ships.* He also reads about sports. And science. And business. And finance. I sometimes wonder if he is a tiny tiny bit Asperger's. I can ask him a sports question or a car question and he will rattle off data that is so detailed that I drown in his words. Basically, if you ask him what time it is about a car, he will tell you how to build a Ford plant. He knows his stuff.**
And even more New Orleans photos from our trip last year. I could have linked to my posts about the trip except they are lost to us forever because of journalspace's crash and the disappearance of four years' worth of blogging but I'm not bitter about it. Oh not at all.
For example, the earpiece on my mp3 player broke last week, so I used new ones today. I could barely hear, which meant I had to do step aerobics to the awful step aerobics music rather than hear the discussion about how much a contractor had bid to paint the city's fire hydrants ($549 each).
When I got home, I told SH that part of the amplification function for the player must be in the earbuds and these didn't work so well and how could I adjust the volume, blah blah blah and he said no, it wasn't that and I said then how come I couldn't hear as well and he said that different earbuds amplify differently (or something like that) and I said that's what I just said and he said no, that's not what you said, and then he gave some technical engineering explanation that was basically "some earbuds are louder than others" but I just wanted the English major explanation of "how can I hear Charlie Sykes while I do step aerobics?"
Waiters at Cafe' du Monde hanging out while SH and I waited and waited for someone to bus our table and take our order. I finally bussed it myself and went to the window and ordered beignets and cafe' au lait. Perhaps they no longer work for tips there.
My point is, he loves the arcane detailed stuff and I just want to make things work and I don't care how they work, so I am not very gratifying for his ego sometimes because I don't want him to show me all that cool engine stuff and I'm not that impressed with new car wheels and I don't want the long explanations.
That's why he was so happy yesterday when the doorbell rang and it was a total stranger, some guy from down the street, who had noticed that we have the same kind of car he does -- a Passat -- and who needed to know something about the car and did SH know? Actually, he needed to borrow the wheel lock key***, but it turned out that the keys are not universal, even for red cars, so SH got to show the guy where the key is stored and he got to give advice to a stranger, which put him in a very good mood for the rest of the day.
Jackson Square at night.
* I read about food. I also read novels.
** Usually, that's good. It means I don't have to know things. I outsource to him.
*** Something to do with snow tires?
Somewhere in the Quarter.