--Yep, I’m sick.I knew
it; I could feel it coming.My
throat hurts, and I’m dragging massive ass today.I have a lengthy list of things I want to accomplish on my 3+
days away from work, but suspect I won’t be marking too many items off.I just want to lie on the couch and stare at the flickerbox.To hell with it.
Last night we attended a so-called art show, at the older Secret’s
school.Here’s
a sample piece.And Toney’s
in Philadelphia today, attending a “flower show” with her cousin,
which means I’m responsible for providing dinner tonight.Translation: I’m responsible for driving
us to a restaurant tonight.Plus, the mouse-killers are supposed to arrive between three
and four.
Sweet sainted mother of George Thoroughlygood!Why so many complications?Can’t
a man just snuggle ‘neath a Scrote-watcher, and allow the illness to
run its course?Apparently not.There is no down-time, ever.Not
ever.
Yes, the whining is officially underway.
--A woman at work asked about
our trip to Englanda few nights ago, and we started
talking about flying.She’s
going to North Dakotain a few days, to see a relative
or somesuch, and was engaging in a little low-grade bitching about the
whole process.
Then another woman joined in and told us she’s never been on an
airplane.This person is
roughly my age, so I was a little surprised.How is it possible to get so old without ever flying somewhere?It seems almost impossible.But,
of course, I have several relatives who’ve never done it, so maybe
it’s not so unusual?
Heck, I was 27 the first time I flew, and felt like the biggest hick
who’s ever walked the Earth.A
dozen or so co-workers and I went to San Franciscofor “meetings,” and it
seemed like everybody was an old pro except me.I tried to be cool about it, but have no doubt I was acting
like Gomer Pyle the whole time.
When we landed I was amazed, simply amazed, we were in California.It was a mythical land to me, and all my colleagues seemed
bored and jaded about the whole thing.I wanted to see the Golden GateBridge, and
CandlestickPark, and
Haight-Ashbury, and Chinatown, and all that stuff.And they wanted to go to the hotel and get smashed in the lobby
bar.
We were there for three full days, and I didn’t see a damn thing.Everybody was too cool to go sightseeing, and I was too
self-conscious to strike out on my own.So, I just attended “meetings” (one included a performance
by Iggy Pop), and drank expense-account beer the whole time.It was highly frustrating.
The following year Toney and I flew to Oregon, and visited
Nancy (who was
living out there at the time), and it was my first real
airplane trip.We had a great
time, despite staying for several days at Nancy’s 700 square foot House of
Cats. I remember eating a salad made with vegetables straight from Nancy’s garden, and every leaf of
lettuce was covered in a coating of sand.Crunchy!
How old were you when you first flew?Where’d
you go?Our kids have been
flying since before they could walk, so they probably couldn’t even
answer such a question.Are you
in their category, or mine?Tell
us about it, won’t you?
--I went to the post office a
little while ago and mailed another batch of Smoking Fish caps.I still have a few left over, so now’s the time to order if
you’d like one.
Here’s a cuppa two tree pics of Surf Reporter Tim sporting his fancy
new Fish Lid at the Daytona 500!…Then
hanging with the US Air Force Thunderbirds!!Oh yeah.
--Last week my iPod suddenly
started sounding like shit.There
was bad distortion in my left ear, and I couldn’t figure out what
what was going on.I went into
SETTINGS and monkeyed around with the half-assed equalizer, but it
didn’t help.
And it was bad;
the thing sounded terrible.Every
drumbeat or pluck of a bass guitar string sounded like bacon frying in
my left ear.I was about to
order a new set of buds, or whatever those things are called, and
cross my fingers.
Then, on a whim, I put the plug in my mouth.I yanked the headphone cord from the jack, and washed-down the
end in spit.And now it’s as
good as new.Took care of the
problem completely...
I just seem to have a natural ability in repairing electronics.Let me know if you need any advice.
--And that’s about all I can
manage today, my friends.I’ll
leave you now with another Question of the Day, in addition to the
flying Question I already asked:
Who’s your favorite heroin addict, past or present?
Use the comments link below, if you’ve got anything on either of
those.And after the mouse
people leave, and after I drive the Secrets to a restaurant, and after
the standard evening mayhem subsides, I’m free-falling into the
couch, dammit.
