"Do I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am vast. I contain multitudes." -Walt Whitman
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
steve hackett - spectral mornings
norah jones - feels like home
mindy smith - one moment more
tortoise - it's all around you
it's been a busy bunch o' days, folks. the last two posts were, i confess, recycled bits intended soley to keep the bloggin' muscles from becoming completely atrophied. in the meantime . . .
the felon is back in town, and in the guest room. he's working to pay off everyone who posted his bail this last time, and looking for a place of his own. it's been almost a week, and he's been well behaved.
the cold from hell has receded back into gehenna, leaving me with slightly clogged sinuses and an affinity for homemade ginger tea.
i've gotten a new cell phone, which causes me some grief because i hate cell phones. i used to try to 'forget' my old one as often as possible. this one comes with that stupid batman utility belt clip that, next to my clip-on employee id card and vpn token, pretty much completes my image transformation from pseusogeek to heezageek. the only cool thing about it is that the seven digit phone number is a palindrome. it has about 30 ringtones, all of which suck, because i just want my phone to sound like an old fashioned phone ringing. i've already learned to loath beethoven's fur elise, thanks to nextel and suncom. i feel like an alternate version of alex from a clockwork orange, being conditioned to associate dreadful things with ludwig's genius. the sugar v has a phone which rings to mussorgsky's ballet of the chicks in their shells, one of my favorite pieces of classical music. given the wrong set of circumstances, i may throw his phone onto the LIE one day.
this needs saying: i am self-admittedly fashion blind. nevertheless, i have eyes, and i can declare this with a fair sense of certainty: women's low rise jeans - you know, the ones that fall below the hips in the front and way the hell below the hips in the back - should not be manufactured (much less worn) above size 7. there are way too many ladies out there bearing very little resemblance to, say, natalia vodianova, and much moreso rob the plumber. there is truly nothing sexy about seeing a full 14 inches of phosphorescent yellow buttfloss thong material poking up your coxis like a colorform tv antenna.
disclaimer: this does not mean that i think large(r) women are by definition unattractive or unsexy. don't even bother with comments to that effect, please.
so friday the 13th i'm getting dressed for work and i drop my comb. as i bend to pick it up, angel (who is much wiser than i) warns me to step on it, then pick it up and kiss it, lest i invite foul luck. 'ha!' i mock her folky wisdom, and unceremoniously stuff my comb into my back pocket, unstepped upon and most definitely not kissed. and off to work i go.
oh, at least wait for it.
i arrive at my office at my routine appointed time. i plop down the laptop case in its appointed plopping spot. i hang my coat on its appointed hook. then i unload the laptop into its docking station, fire it up as usual, and procure the java necessary for any human/human contact that i might be forced to endure.
returning to my office, i position my fingers in that cruel hand-yoga ctl-alt-del position necessary to launch the novell login screen, only to notice that the routinely present novell prelogin screen is not in its appointed location on my laptop screen. instead there is a very unfriendly black field with the very unfriendly message:
Failure of primary hard drive
even the font was unfriendly.
i rebooted. same unfriendly message.
i rerebooted. the message rereturned.
i undocked the computer, redocked it, fired it up again. ehhhnnn.
i placed a bravado-filled phone call to our support center and reported my situation. after the laughing subsided, they assured me a tech would be dispatched to assist me "soon."
a brief bit of leftover good karma surfaced when the manager of desktop services made a chance appearance in the hallway. we haggled. we bargained. we struck a deal. by the end of the day, i had my laptop back with a new hard drive. in return, i provided a copy of luther wright and the wrong's bluegrass cover of pink floyd's 'the wall.'
everyone has their price.*
saturday i went to jersey to see my kids. we had a great time spending hours and hours at an indoor playground full of climbing nets and big tubes and three-story-high corkscrew slides. the 'play structures' (as they are so imaginatively called) are verboten to adults, but i was overcome by the urge to recreate dallas's ventilation shaft scene from alien. i crawled up one of the tube slides and hid around a corner until my kids came through. it was cramped, but the screams and laughter were worth it. then i slid down the tube slide on my butt and contented myself with staying outside the play structure for the rest of the afternoon.
a few years back i got a palm vx palmpilot. i'm a terribly disorganized person - the kind who routinely loses his daily planner. the palm, mysteriously, actually suceeded where other organizers failed. it maintained my contacts, my schedules, a gazillion notes, birthdays, social security numbers, birthday gift ideas past and future, recipes(!), and a host of other obscure data. i carry it everywhere. it's even my morning alarm clock.
it was in my back pocket when i went bump bump bump down the tube slide. i suppose admist all the laughter and screams, i didn't here the palm's touch screen go crack-crack-crinkley-pop. but i discovered it later that evening. saturday the 14th.
sunday i got the new phone. i can't afford one with a built in pda, so i just got a plain old phone. it hasn't broken yet.
today, monday the 15th, i arrive at my office at my routine appointed time. it is like 15 friggin' degrees outside.
my id badge is broken. i can't get into the building.
stupid comb. stupid folk wisdom.
* in all honesty, there was no actual bribery performed. the manager was just doing his job. but he really did ask me for the luther wright stuff. and i really did have it.