What have you done lately?
I was filling out a form for a high school I didn’t graduate from – one of several – I was a problem child – might still be – anyway, as I’m on the mailing list. Possible donor? Hoping I’ve made millions and I’ll leave some behind for them? I doubt it. I think I’m leaving it all to UT, just easier, and hopefully, some scholar will appreciate what’s there.
I don’t have time or money to travel for a reunion. Not that I’m not interested, just not that big of a deal. I wonder what a couple of the people turned out like, but again, not that big of a deal. But I did shoot back the reply form, cost me a stamp, ten minutes of my time, and then, it triggered something, a train of thought.
Maybe a train wreck of thought, or, at the very least, a derailment. Not that it matters, either.
Stop with parenthetical expressions, already, okay, or maybe, not.
Two questions gave me pause. I’ll paraphrase because the note’s in the mail by now.
“Any interesting avocations or vocation?”
(Is that grammatically correct? Plural and singular?)
I live in South Austin. I don’t have title to a vehicle. I walk a lot of places. I fish right out the trailer’s back door. I write a column called “Fishing Guide to the Stars,” each week. I wander around Texas and the Southwest. I rather fancy my “vocation,” such as it is, even though I’m still working towards that mythical “break-even” point, according to the accounting. Did I mention that, over all, I really enjoy my work? I have tapped a mythical mother lode of epic proportions when it comes to material – all I have to do is open my eyes. It’s here, everyday, right in front of me.
My casting arm, the elbow’s a little sore, but I mean, what’s wrong with a little physical discomfort, in the name of a pleasurable sport like fishing? Avocation or vocation? Fishing Guide to the Stars.
“Done anything special in the last ten years?”
That one seriously stymied me for a minute. Has ten years slipped by without any major accomplishments? Maybe I m stuck in Austin’s fabled “velvet rut.”
I was up late, the previous evening, reading a fascinating novel, the cat wanted to be fed at 6 AM, and I told her to shut up, hugged her once, and went back to sleep for another hour or so, then I was drinking coffee, with the cat fed, by 8 or so, and looking at inbound mail, as I toyed with advertising settings, try to clean up the ads a little, and I got to serious work on a column, and looked at the weekly scope about to launch, then poked around on the web for something interesting, and finally I started typing a new column, which meant I spun charts around, munched on a granola bar, made a second cup of coffee, and I marveled at the way the fog was clinging to the terrain, which is unusual weather, couldn’t even see the far side of the river for the better part of the morning, and the traffic noise was silenced by the fog, as I worked up to a stopping point, a self-appointed goal, let the cat out, let the cat back in, showered up and walked downtown to look at the mailbox, and along the way, nodded to a guy I know from one place, as he was bicycling along, got honked at once, waved back, watched water fowl on the lake, no signs of fish, stopped for a shot of espresso from a Leo, bought a hot dog for lunch, kept on gently heading home where I jotted an down idea for another scope that I picked up along my walk, looked at the mail, returned a call, booked a reading for the evening, lay down for a little rest, got up and warmed the coffee so I’d be awake for the reading, thought about fishing, hammered out a quick idea, booked some travel arrangements on the web, took a call from out-of-state, then another call from overseas, and finally got around to the reading, and waiting for the scopes to roll over, which they do automatically, but I like to check and be sure, just in case, and that reading spurred another idea, which meant I had to fire up the horoscope writer again, which, as it turns out, is something I like to do, anyway, then the cat wanted out again, but a cold front arrived, and we played the sit-at-the-open-door game.
A third question left me room to have a little fun. My motto. In Latin:
(click to visit)
Voting
As I passed the corner of Lower Congress and Oltorf, there, on the corner lot, the store has early voting material. I was tempted, just as a matter of form, to vote. But I didn’t. See: the problem is, vote in the primary? Can’t sign the petition to get Kinky on the ballot for governor.
Maybe life – and Texas politics – can be summed up in a single t-shirt.
Incoming:
A cast, you got to love, from a director you got to love, based on a novel by an author, you got to love, Scanner darkly (the trailer).
The Barrier:
Still toying with code, ad, subtract, trying get that index page under 10K in size.
Musical interlude:
Beethoven’s Symphony #7, 3rd Movement, “Presto, presto meno assai.”
(Like I even have a clue what that means – good stuff, anyway.)
Ten Things:
That, according to some, will change our lives.
Link policy (update):
I am eternally amused at how this works. First off, I was fiddling with the advertising crap, trying to earn a few extra cents to help defray the cost running the site. What I discovered was a link from my site has a value of a $1 (more or less), as a commodity. But the links I toss into the journal or the scopes? No charge, nothing gained, but I greatly do amuse myself sometimes. In an upcoming scope, I forget where I buried the two links, I found a local hard-line thinker, neo-conservative, be my guess. And in the very same scope? A liberal. A left-leaning, neo-socialist. Ain’t it great? Flag-waving for both sides.
(click to visit)
The funny thing:
Subtitle: why I don’t use Google Ad Sense
I was looking at one of my favorite, snark-tech sites, The Register, if you have to know, and there was an article about the sex-life of some kind of mole. Less about tech stuff, more about scientific findings, and written with the british dry wit. More amusing, less “real” content. But the ad running at the top, alongside the humorous article? Something about Mole Sauce and a Mexican Kitchen link.
Mole the rodent? Mole the chocolate sauce that’s so good on chicken and enchiladas? Mexican food in the UK?
Oh, never mind. It was funny to me. Stupid computers.
Quote:
“Don’t worry about avoiding temptation… as you grow older, it will avoid you.”
(attributed) Winston Churchill
