Friends,
I’ve been sitting here at 47 Jaunty Plaza listening to my P.R. gal Magdalena yell at me about the site. Apparently, hits will go down when you don’t keep the content fresh. Who knew? Granted, she hasn’t been doing the greatest job promoting the site (Jaunty Little Blog coasters at American Legion bars didn’t work out as well as we had hoped, nor did the commercials on the Spanish-language radio stations in Murietta) but I understand the need to keep up my end. I’ve been working on the house lately, so there are plenty of bandages on my fingertips (oh! that’s tragic! -ed No, really. go to the kitchen and turn on the tap. that should approximate my tears over your plight. -ed It’s hard to touch-type too! fine, just get to work. -ed) ahem, that make it hard to type. The spiny ends from all of the pine needles we’ve cleaned up at the Lodge seem to be magnetically attracted to my mitts. But anyway, here we go…
I’ll try to catch you up on as much as I can recall, or am allowed to recall for the ‘tubes.
My adorable niece was christened in the Roman Catholic Church last weekend. It seems that only a few years ago a christening was a solitary family affair. One child, one mass. You’ve certainly been to one. There’s a bit of liturgy, then a spoonful of holy water* is poured over the child’s head, the child cries, the service is buttoned up and you go home. Precious little Inez was baptized in a group ceremony with nine other infants. That’s fine with me, if only for the people watching, but the script provided the officiating priest hasn’t been updated to accommodate this. “Parents of Mary, Kate, Jeff, Steve, Inez, Larry, Paris, Nicole, Crystal, and Brittney, do you renounce Satan?” “Yes!”
Last weekend also held the promise of the famous Memorial Day yard sales here on the hill. The results were fairly disappointing though. I scored a brand new-in-the-box printer for my folks for cheap and they found a five dollar antique oak office chair for me. Beyond that, we spend our best time chatting with my neighbors. Two encounters deserve note. The first was the Christian evangelist who was selling his Jeepster but really needed tech support for his new non-profit venture. I don’t think I stressed enough how wary I am of non-profits nowadays (non-profit=no profit, get it?) but took his card and promised to give him a hand (that’s going to impinge on your production here, so we’re against it. -ed Some extra cash might help dress up these shabby digs.). The genuinely interesting part was a look at his parents’ videophone for the deaf. The picture quality was poor, which is a huge problem when you’re signing over the Interwebs and he was hoping I could fix that too.
The other discussion was with a Jeep aficionado who had a very heavy Eastern European accent. I’ve spoken with him since (at the post office, natch) and I think I have a bead on the guy. At the post office, he was wearing cowboy boots and a straw Stetson and driving his Wrangler. My guess is that while some people have chosen to be Elvis impersonators, he’s chosen to be an American impersonator. What’s more American than Levi’s and a Jeep? If he had been snacking on an apple pie, that would’ve clinched it, but for now I’m still only guessing.
As far as my work goes at San Diego’s (not nearly so, nowadays**) Omnipresent Charitable Organization’s Far Eastern Outpost (i thought we were going to shorten that. -ed It’s been a long time since the last post. Some people may need to catch up. the lurker from estonia isn’t worried about that. get to the story. – ed Um, were it not for the interruptions….) things have gone badly. I spent the last couple days—yes, even Saturday—helping to connect the various computer labs to the corporate network. My co-conspirators in San Diego came down to the desert to install switches, routers, a server and access for the, erm, clients. What does this mean for them? No more porn. I know, you’re upset about the closing of titillation opportunities for the homeless, but what can you do? It is a quasi-religious organization, after all. Yeah, no more MySpace or Facebook either. Take that, Rupert! (and whomever owns Facebook today).
But seriously folks, how exactly has the ‘Organization (much better. -ed) gone fishin’, so to speak? Well, I’m still the point man should things go sour with the medical software, but as I’ve learned this weekend, I’m getting pushed out of the role. That’s fine, I guess, except that I already purchased plane tickets and a room for this year’s user group convention in Washington state. On top of that, I’m likable! This is a trait that, I hear, is sadly missing from the interactions clinic staff have had with my co-conspirators in my beleaguered department. There’s decision making and there’s decision making, but these are some doozies, especially when they’d initially approved the trip then denied the trip after the reservations had been made. I have a plan though…
Oh, and this. I finally put some tires on the tired little Dodge Dakota. Of course, America’s Tire Co. (nee Discount Tire, nee Sears) didn’t have the right tire in the right size, so I went a size up. They look great, but they’ve changed the effective gearing and are further taxing the pathetic AMC four-banger. Sad, no?
There’s more, but it’ll have to wait for the next installment. I know, you can hardly wait.
Your pal,
– bob
* Joke alert: “How do you make holy water? You put tap water in a pot and boil the hell out of it.”
** Irrelevancy alert: As the company’s namesake falls further into ill health, his diminishing public exposure is leading to fewer donations and lower revenues. Local governments will sure be upset when folks are turned back out onto the street, won’t they?
I rolled up the front driveway instead of the back drive and there was a box from UPS. Out of the blue, my brother Stinko sent me a pair of shoes. Brown, lightweight, maybe cool tennis shoes. Super comfortable too. Why did he send them? I have theories! He’s a good guy, which is true. They also didn’t fit him, which is fair enough. How do you explain my own shoe thought before I even knew there was a package in front of my garage? It’s hard to know. Discuss.
