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Hello World,
Just in case there was still anyone out there who didn't believe that the KGB is monitoring my email, let me just say that after complaining about the horrible climate conditions around here last week, someone at the Kremlin's infernal weather machine must have felt sorry for us, and we've had the most beautiful weather all this week. The skies are blue, the temperatures mild, the humidity perfectly comfortable, and no sign of the dog days that August is so justly famous for in these parts. It's lovely and cool in the mornings and evenings, and balmy during the day, which is so unlike the usual conditions this time of year that you have to wonder if we're getting some other city's weather by mistake. And I don't mind saying, the other place would have gotten the worst of that bargain, and not thought much of the idea, I can tell you that.
Meanwhile at church, one of our patrons donated a water cooler, and for several months it was in our fellowship hall downstairs, near the kitchen where they serve coffee and refreshments after worship. It must not have met the standards of our energy watchdogs, however, because even though it came to us complete and in working order, it was not allowed to be plugged in, so that it could accomplish its only purpose in life, which is to chill bottled water for drinking. So essentially, what we ended up with, in spite of being conveniently located right near a handy electrical outlet, was a large and bulky gravity-fed dispenser for room temperature bottled water. While I will say that the inaptly-named water cooler does an admirable job at this function, it must be admitted that there has never developed much of a demand for its wares. I guess those refrigeration folks must be on to something after all.
Speaking of refrigeration, this was another one of those years where I ended up getting more exercise on vacation than I anticipated, because every morning I had to walk all the way to the Registration Building to get a cold drink to have with my breakfast. Of course, we all remember that over the winter, our friends at the Long Island Parks & Historical Preservation Commission decided to tear down the Old Roundy and replace it with a brand new building. I think they did a remarkable job of getting it all done in time for camping season to start this year, with all of the plumbing and fixtures in place and operational, so they weren't faced with hordes of angry campers and no bathrooms. But it wasn't completely finished on the outside, as the walks, curbs, signs and decorative fences were still under construction while I was there. And although there was a soda machine in the same place as one had been previously, right next to the door of the ladies room, I said to Bill that I wasn't sure that it was working. Sometimes it's hard to tell, because you can't always see if the lights are on behind the selector buttons or where you insert the money, especially in bright sunlight. But I figured that early in the morning on Tuesday, when it would still be shady on that side of the building, I would be able to tell if it was working, and hopefully get myself a drink to carry back to the campsite. It turned out to be easier to figure out than I expected, since even I could see that the power cord came out of the back of the soda machine, and then just trailed off in the dirt of the construction debris alongside, and just stopped right there. Apparently, the exterior electricity part of the project had yet to be finalized, and why they set the soda machine in place ahead of having any outlet to plug it into, continues to be a mystery to me. So that was how I ended up walking all the way to the Registration Building every morning for a cold drink, and it was a good thing that worked every day, because I would have been pretty grouchy if it hadn't, and I had to walk to an even farther soda machine before breakfast. That would have been more the "evil twin" than the "happy camper" of lore and legend, believe me.
That reminds me of another interesting sight when I was driving out to Wildwood by myself on Monday morning, and the Buick and I found ourselves in the thick of mid-morning traffic all through the Bronx, Queens and most of Nassau, so that we never got over 40 miles an hour the whole time. Creeping along as we were, there was plenty of time for quiet reflection, sight-seeing and wool-gathering, and no danger of those vehicular mishaps that can occur at high speeds. At one point, I happened to glance out the side window and noticed that next to me was a white van that claimed to be from some place they called All-Boro Courrier. At first, I felt sorry for them, stuck in traffic when they might have had some important documents or packages to deliver. But then I decided that if they really were a courier service, they would at the very least know how to spell courier, and since I have no idea what function a "courrier" might be engaged in, perhaps it made no difference to them at all that we were inching along at a mere 6 miles per hour on the inaptly-named Expressway. For all I know, these "courriers" might be in the business of quiet reflection, sight-seeing and wool-gathering, and for which, these conditions would have been ideal.
Since we have a spare office at work (that's my old miserable office, and blast its dastardly black soul) I thought it would be a handy place for a spare computer, in the event that we had a new person in the Clerk's position who needed to use it for routine paperwork, reports or reference materials. The spare computer that fit the bill, in that it was available and in working order, is a trusty old stand-by still wheezing along with its out-moded processor and running Windows98 without a care in the world. (Note to Bill Gates: Those were still the best screen savers that any computer has ever had, before or since.) It's more than adequate to handle the rudimentary tasks that we need it for in word processing, spreadsheets or media files, and since no one else uses it, there won't be times when it's unavailable or otherwise engaged. I said to Bill that my favorite part about it is that, unlike newer computers, when you turn it on, it just starts right up and is ready to run, and when you shut if off, it simply turns right off. It's not a bit like computers are nowadays, where it goes through a whole big fat honking start-up routine, so that you can go have a cup of coffee while you're waiting for anything to happen, and then when you try to turn it off, it takes forever and a day, as if you have time for that sort of nonsense. It's funny what people get used to, with the extra time built in for loading all the security features, ad filters, spam blockers, virus protection, spyware detectors and every other darned thing. The old computer is blissfully uncomplicated, not to mention, a quaint anachronism of a time gone by, and not that long ago, when things seemed much simpler. And while it might be much slower, somehow it still seems faster, which is what the technical people refer to as "progress," and thank you so very much not.
While we're on the subject of progress, and just in case anyone was wondering if there could be any reason why the terrorists hate us, I came across this arresting full-page ad in the USA Weekend magazine recently with the screaming headline: "Custom Printed M&M's make any occasion sweeter." There's a picture of a young girl with birthday candles, and a bunch of colorful M&Ms that say things like Happy Birthday and Anna Banana, instead of just the usual M. It goes on to say, "Now you can put your words on MY M&M's Chocolate Candies! Choose from 17 colors, then personalize them with your own message. Whatever your occasion, however you want to say it, Custom Printed MY M&M's Candies are the sweetest way to send a message." I'm thinking if this is not a textbook example of outrageous excess, and a sure sign of a civilization on the edge of ruin, then I don't know what is. The next thing I'd be on the lookout for is hordes of barbarians storming the gates, and I can't say that I would blame them one bit. So don't say that I didn't warn everybody, although if the barbarians are planning to get here by way of the Expressway, at least that gives us plenty of time.
Just in case there was still anyone out there who didn't believe that the KGB is monitoring my email, let me just say that after complaining about the horrible climate conditions around here last week, someone at the Kremlin's infernal weather machine must have felt sorry for us, and we've had the most beautiful weather all this week. The skies are blue, the temperatures mild, the humidity perfectly comfortable, and no sign of the dog days that August is so justly famous for in these parts. It's lovely and cool in the mornings and evenings, and balmy during the day, which is so unlike the usual conditions this time of year that you have to wonder if we're getting some other city's weather by mistake. And I don't mind saying, the other place would have gotten the worst of that bargain, and not thought much of the idea, I can tell you that.
Meanwhile at church, one of our patrons donated a water cooler, and for several months it was in our fellowship hall downstairs, near the kitchen where they serve coffee and refreshments after worship. It must not have met the standards of our energy watchdogs, however, because even though it came to us complete and in working order, it was not allowed to be plugged in, so that it could accomplish its only purpose in life, which is to chill bottled water for drinking. So essentially, what we ended up with, in spite of being conveniently located right near a handy electrical outlet, was a large and bulky gravity-fed dispenser for room temperature bottled water. While I will say that the inaptly-named water cooler does an admirable job at this function, it must be admitted that there has never developed much of a demand for its wares. I guess those refrigeration folks must be on to something after all.
Speaking of refrigeration, this was another one of those years where I ended up getting more exercise on vacation than I anticipated, because every morning I had to walk all the way to the Registration Building to get a cold drink to have with my breakfast. Of course, we all remember that over the winter, our friends at the Long Island Parks & Historical Preservation Commission decided to tear down the Old Roundy and replace it with a brand new building. I think they did a remarkable job of getting it all done in time for camping season to start this year, with all of the plumbing and fixtures in place and operational, so they weren't faced with hordes of angry campers and no bathrooms. But it wasn't completely finished on the outside, as the walks, curbs, signs and decorative fences were still under construction while I was there. And although there was a soda machine in the same place as one had been previously, right next to the door of the ladies room, I said to Bill that I wasn't sure that it was working. Sometimes it's hard to tell, because you can't always see if the lights are on behind the selector buttons or where you insert the money, especially in bright sunlight. But I figured that early in the morning on Tuesday, when it would still be shady on that side of the building, I would be able to tell if it was working, and hopefully get myself a drink to carry back to the campsite. It turned out to be easier to figure out than I expected, since even I could see that the power cord came out of the back of the soda machine, and then just trailed off in the dirt of the construction debris alongside, and just stopped right there. Apparently, the exterior electricity part of the project had yet to be finalized, and why they set the soda machine in place ahead of having any outlet to plug it into, continues to be a mystery to me. So that was how I ended up walking all the way to the Registration Building every morning for a cold drink, and it was a good thing that worked every day, because I would have been pretty grouchy if it hadn't, and I had to walk to an even farther soda machine before breakfast. That would have been more the "evil twin" than the "happy camper" of lore and legend, believe me.
That reminds me of another interesting sight when I was driving out to Wildwood by myself on Monday morning, and the Buick and I found ourselves in the thick of mid-morning traffic all through the Bronx, Queens and most of Nassau, so that we never got over 40 miles an hour the whole time. Creeping along as we were, there was plenty of time for quiet reflection, sight-seeing and wool-gathering, and no danger of those vehicular mishaps that can occur at high speeds. At one point, I happened to glance out the side window and noticed that next to me was a white van that claimed to be from some place they called All-Boro Courrier. At first, I felt sorry for them, stuck in traffic when they might have had some important documents or packages to deliver. But then I decided that if they really were a courier service, they would at the very least know how to spell courier, and since I have no idea what function a "courrier" might be engaged in, perhaps it made no difference to them at all that we were inching along at a mere 6 miles per hour on the inaptly-named Expressway. For all I know, these "courriers" might be in the business of quiet reflection, sight-seeing and wool-gathering, and for which, these conditions would have been ideal.
Since we have a spare office at work (that's my old miserable office, and blast its dastardly black soul) I thought it would be a handy place for a spare computer, in the event that we had a new person in the Clerk's position who needed to use it for routine paperwork, reports or reference materials. The spare computer that fit the bill, in that it was available and in working order, is a trusty old stand-by still wheezing along with its out-moded processor and running Windows98 without a care in the world. (Note to Bill Gates: Those were still the best screen savers that any computer has ever had, before or since.) It's more than adequate to handle the rudimentary tasks that we need it for in word processing, spreadsheets or media files, and since no one else uses it, there won't be times when it's unavailable or otherwise engaged. I said to Bill that my favorite part about it is that, unlike newer computers, when you turn it on, it just starts right up and is ready to run, and when you shut if off, it simply turns right off. It's not a bit like computers are nowadays, where it goes through a whole big fat honking start-up routine, so that you can go have a cup of coffee while you're waiting for anything to happen, and then when you try to turn it off, it takes forever and a day, as if you have time for that sort of nonsense. It's funny what people get used to, with the extra time built in for loading all the security features, ad filters, spam blockers, virus protection, spyware detectors and every other darned thing. The old computer is blissfully uncomplicated, not to mention, a quaint anachronism of a time gone by, and not that long ago, when things seemed much simpler. And while it might be much slower, somehow it still seems faster, which is what the technical people refer to as "progress," and thank you so very much not.
While we're on the subject of progress, and just in case anyone was wondering if there could be any reason why the terrorists hate us, I came across this arresting full-page ad in the USA Weekend magazine recently with the screaming headline: "Custom Printed M&M's make any occasion sweeter." There's a picture of a young girl with birthday candles, and a bunch of colorful M&Ms that say things like Happy Birthday and Anna Banana, instead of just the usual M. It goes on to say, "Now you can put your words on MY M&M's Chocolate Candies! Choose from 17 colors, then personalize them with your own message. Whatever your occasion, however you want to say it, Custom Printed MY M&M's Candies are the sweetest way to send a message." I'm thinking if this is not a textbook example of outrageous excess, and a sure sign of a civilization on the edge of ruin, then I don't know what is. The next thing I'd be on the lookout for is hordes of barbarians storming the gates, and I can't say that I would blame them one bit. So don't say that I didn't warn everybody, although if the barbarians are planning to get here by way of the Expressway, at least that gives us plenty of time.
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 9:34 PM
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