The Continuing, Continuing Resolution

Congress and I have a fairly simple relationship. I work for the federal government as a "value-added" employee, saving more money than I expend, and in return, Congress gives me the money I need to do my job.

Ideally, Congress would pass a budget over the summer. Worst case, by September 30. But this year, like last year, we are going to make it to Christmas without any actual authority to spend money.

This is called a "Continuing Resolution," in which Congress is kind enough to give us just enough money to pay our employees (well, most of them) and to keep the lights on (well, some of them). We can't spend money on any new programs. Right now, there is a two feet by two feet hole in the side of the building, and I can't fix it, because it was not an existing condition last year.

This is the only thing Congress absolutely is required to do every year, for Pete's sake. I don't care about minor changes to tax codes giving medium-to-large businesses a tax break for promising to think about energy conservation. Pass a budget!

Obviously, this is fiscal irresponsibility on the macro level, but, at least in this case, macroeconomic failures mimic those on a more familiar, microeconomic level.

Me: Dude, you got your share of the rent yet?
Congress: Wha?
Me: The rent. It was due, like, two months ago.
Congress: Can't it wait til this show is over?
Me: You're watching Dora the Explorer.
Congress: I know! Immigration is big now. I'm staying informed.
Me: It's a kid show.
Congress: Kids are our future.
Me: What does that have to do with this?
Congress: With what?
Me: The rent.
Congress: What rent?
Me: Are you kidding me?! The money you owe to allow you to continue to exist in your current degenerative state.
Congress: Whoa, calm down. No sense bringing my state into this. Besides, didn't I pay you, like, a couple months ago?
Me: It's due every month.
Congress: Seriously?
Me: Seriously.
Congress: My financial situation is kinda fuzzy right now. Can you float me for a couple months?
Me: Come on! You can't just sit around here and produce excrement! You have to honor your financial--
(Lights go out)
Congress: Dora! No!!
Me: Jesus! Did you pay the power bill?
Congress: Hey, neither God nor His children have any place in this conversation. Of course I paid the bill.
Me: What's that?
Congress: Beer bottles. But you don't want to drink that. I was watching the game and the bathroom was awfully-
Me: No, under the bottle...is that the electric bill?
Congress: No, of course not. That's the second notice for the electric bill. I haven't seen the electric bill.
Me: But you paid it?
Congress: Well, I hadn't saw it in a while, so I assumed I paid it.
Me: I am going to stab you with a pencil.

Another Brilliant Idea

Along the same vein as that PostSecret blog, Sasha Cagen has released a book based on her To-Do List blog, a website that posts the actual, honest-to-God to-do lists of ordinary people like you and me.

That is brilliant. Once again, someone is getting rich by letting other people do work for her. And people apparently find these to-do lists fascinating, presumably because it gives candid insight into the minds of the authors of these lists. Indeed, perhaps history would have been different if we could have just glimpsed at the to-do lists of notable figures throughout the years.

Hitler's To-Do List:

1. Go to the grocery and buy a dozen eggs.
2. Placate the west.
3. Pay the power bill.
4. Place a flaming bag of poo on the doorstep of Jew neighbor.
5. Write nasty letter to art school.
6. Invade Poland.

Ah, had we only known!

John Hinckley Jr's To-Do List

1. Write letter to Jody Foster.
2. Make list of Ways to Impress Jody Foster.
3. Buy gun.
4. Paste photo of me on picture of Jody Foster.
5. Book a room at the Hilton Hotel.
6. Shoot leader of the free world.
7. Pick up Jody when she falls for me.

Problem-Solving When Idiots Are Involved

It routinely amazes me how much time and money is wasted trying to fix things that someone is actively breaking. If this person is knowingly screwing up stuff, he is a jerk and should be savagely beaten. However, most of the time the idiot is unaware of his/her consequences and only merits a whiffle bat beating.

When I can't find an easy answer to a problem, I usually look at the people in the vicinity of the problem and search their eyes for that vacant look. You know the one I'm talking about. That empty expression is nature's way of letting the rest of us know not to trust them with anything bigger than a paperclip. Anyway, when I find that person I usually find the source of the problem. More often than not, it is one of our paperclip people that was wrongly entrusted with something larger and/or smarter than a paperclip. Like a coffee maker.

More on this later. I'm sure this method of problem-solving is not original, but I think I'm the first person to write it down in a cool way. So I pretty much own it. (Oh, this is all copyright 2007 by me. Pretend there is that little C-in-a-circle right here.)

Bryan's Economy of Problem-Solving

If a given problem cannot be rationally answered by a simple and practical solution, attention to increasingly complex and expensive solutions should be deferred until it can be established, to a high degree of confidence, that an idiot is not causing the problem.

Parallel:

An idiot is at least as likely to be the cause of a given problem as the scenarios that can be anticipated.

Maxim:

Find the idiot, find the problem.

Pretty graph that really hits the point home:

*Graph not based on any empirical evidence.

As you can clearly see, idiots cause problems. In fact, even when you are still looking at simple solutions idiots will be at the crux of the matter 30% of the time. I thoroughly researched this. I promise. In fact, if you are even thinking about a solution that has more than one "if" in it (as in, "if this and this and this happened, then maybe...) without first considering whether there might be an idiot involved, you are wasting your time.

For instance, consider the following:

A mysterious dark stain is developing on the side of a brick building below the second floor window. No one is quite sure what it is or where it comes from. It is determined not to be mold or sort of growth. The rest of the building is unaffected.

Now, would you:

a) Examine the stain and look for signs of leaching, and carefully go over the window frame for signs of corrosion or paint residue.

b) Or would you find the idiot who has been pouring his old coffee out the window every morning for the past couple months.

Now I bet you know which one we did first. And if it wasn't for someone actually observing this lazy fool in the act, we probably would still be looking for the source of that stain.

So remember, folks, when you are problem-solving always start with the problem...and smack the crap out of him with a whiffle bat.

Mandatory Bathroom Fixtures

I am absolutely terrified of walking into a women's restroom by mistake. I am not sure where this particular irrational fear (I have a few) came from. I don't have any vivid memories of walking into a girls' bathroom, and I don't think I can blame this one on my parents (unlike my irrational fear of drawing blood--Dad). I think it may stem from my own recognition and acceptance of my absent-minded tendencies. In other words, I'm the kind of guy who would walk into a women's restroom unawares.

When I go into a restroom I compulsively check the door and the walls for any signs that might indicate what gender should enter. If there is less than two such signs present, I am content to wait for further verification that it is indeed the restroom for individuals similarly equipped like myself (that's a nice way of saying penis). A smart ass might change one sign, but smart asses are generally too lazy to switch them both. Once again, I depend on the laziness of idiots. This additional verification is usually an alert and otherwise non perverted-looking gentlemen entering or exiting my destination restroom.

Once in the bathroom, I look for the telltale sign of male presence...the urinal. There should be a building code mandating at least one urinal in every multiple occupancy male restroom. If I walk into a restroom full of stalls, I will walk out of that restroom and look at the signs again. I might even take my business elsewhere. While I firmly believe there are few things more important than bodily functions, the specter of imminent embarrassment is one of them.

If you can't give me a urinal, at least put a poster of one. Paint a urinal mural. Show me a urinal in the abstract. I don't care. Just let me know that I am where I belong. Peeing in a stall is horribly unsanitary. I'm from the "If you tinkle and you sprinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat" school of thought, but I know some of my fellow firemen are not. It is also unnerving--hearing the cascade of urine echo off the tile is ethereal, to say it best. (Oh, I've resolved to stop using "to say the least." Saying the least is what slackers do. I'm a winner, so I say it best.)

I could really do without that fifteen seconds of terror followed by two minutes of confusion as I go in and out of the restroom door several times trying to find the answer that I already know.

There really should be a support group.