Some days start better than others

This happened yesterday.

At six o’clock in the morning my ninety-seven year old mother-in-law fell down on the way to her bathroom.  We jumped out of bed, got her up, to her bathroom, and back in her bed.  It took about twenty minutes.

At seven o’clock we noticed a frozen, broken pipe in our backyard.  It had flooded ours, and part of our neighbors yard and was still going strong.  It took me twenty minutes to get dressed, get out, pry the frozen water control cover open and turn the water off.

At eight o’clock I cracked two eggs onto a plate, nuked them, brought them to the table and they exploded.  There were tiny bits of egg on the ceiling, on me, on my wife, in her oatmeal, on the cabinets, windows, walls and floor.  It took us twenty minutes to clean it up.

At nine o’clock I looked out the window, and my car had a flat tire.

It’ll only take about twenty minutes to fix but I’m waiting until Monday.

The English have a way with English

Churchill would have put a nice spin on all the financial deceptions, miss-deeds, outright lies and criminal fraud we’ve just experienced.

He would have said something like; never have so few sucked so much out of so many.

Yeah, I know, that was too easy.

A few of the many

Isn’t it sad that when our politicians claim they’re listening to their constituents they only mean the ones who voted for them?

The idea that once they’re elected they actually represent all of the people in their district has somehow gotten lost.

Wouldn’t it be nice if at least a few politicians actually worked for the good of all?

It would take real courage to vote for something that might nick the few but help the many.

But, here’s why they don’t:

The many, who don’t vote as often, if at all, are usurped by the few, who not only vote, often, but also contribute, more, much more, to the few, who could help the many the most, but help the few the most, while trying to make it look as though the many are the recipients of what is actually more for the benefit of the few.

Most of the few know that a few of the many will know.  But many of the many will never really know that it’s most of the few who have pulled much of the wool over their eyes.  And almost all of the few will vote.  And a few of the many will vote, but it will be too few.

In any case, even the few politicians actually willing to represent the many as well as the few, are few and far between.

But many of you in the many can’t blame the few because so many of you in the many don’t vote, and most of the few usually do.

Is that clear?

That wasn’t very Churchill-esk.

Get out the buckets and sponges

You patient people don’t understand we impatient people.  You don’t get it.  And we impatient people don’t have the time or the patience to explain just how awful and agonizing it is, to be us.

Actual physical pain is involved.  Neck tightening, muscle twitching, teeth clenching, gut wrenching, eye stabbing, especially behind the left eye, nerve clawing pains that cause twisting, trembling, mind numbing, jump out of our skin, be anywhere but where we are, agony.

You patient people don’t get that our minds and bodies feel like they’re in outer space being sucked apart by the lack of gravity.  We try to keep it together but in the end, we know, for certain, we’re going to explode, outward, in equal, evenly spaced molecules, that will splatter our minds and bodies over every square inch of whatever room we’re in, and the cleanup is going to be horrendous.  Really, you don’t get it.

And yes, we know you do it better.  Big deal.

Ants have nothing on us

My studio is a long way from my wife’s office.  I paced it off; it’s forty-six normal steps, to be exact.  To link our Apple computers we bought an AirPort Express and installed it halfway between the two rooms.

Not two minutes after we installed it we got an upgrade message and so upgraded.  Jeeze.  Two minutes?  And we think ants look busy.

Who’s boiling now?

When I go back to Los Angeles it seems to be more intense than it used to be.  I lived in Malibu for seventeen years and drove into the city every day.  Granted, it got a little more crowded and took a little longer every year on the Pacific Coast Highway, but at the time it didn’t seem too bad.

I guess it’s like that experiment:  Put a frog in hot water and he jumps out.  Put him in cool water and slowly bring the water to a boil.  The frog doesn’t notice and he doesn’t jump out.

Are the people in LA like the frog?  Boiling away without noticing?  They used to be more laid back, didn’t they?  And what sick bastard tried that frog experiment in the first place?

Now, God, going to LA is like going to New York.  I lived there for a few years as well, and it was always intense, friendly but boilingly intense.  Don’t get me wrong, everyone in LA is still friendly, but busy, boiling friendly.  Like the frog, you know what I mean?

I guess they’ve caught up to all the boiling New Yorkers.  In any case, I don’t love LA like I used to.

What’s odd is, I still love New York.  Well, not so much in the winter.   And yes, I know boilingly isn’t a word.

Conversation starter?

I bought a new iMac a short while ago.  The computer’s serial number is one measly little number buried in the middle of quite a long string of letters.  Serial letters?

I thought that was funny.  Then I realized they put that one single number in a long sequence of letters so if it ever came up in conversation I could say; “My serial number is seven.”

That’ll really get the ball rolling.