gonna learn this thing as many times as it takes

Apparently I can't be trusted around the beer. Yesterday was my day off. Okay, I do have two whole days off this week, but yesterday was the one that I did not have the kids with me at the end of it. They were at Momma's, and because I work a night shift today will be there again tonight, though that has nothing to do with any of this story.

Because I didn't have the kids I was able to go out last night, and before doing so I told myself how good I was going to be.

I kinda have a habit, when I know I won't have the kids, of drinking more than I should. I used to be much worse about it, and having them at my apartment more often has led to me drinking a lot less than I've been used to.

Which is a good thing. I get to bed earlier and sleep better lately, and that's nice. But then I finally get a night to myself and go a little crazy, or stupid, depending on how you look at it. I could agree to either, though there wasn't a lot of craziness last night.

I left my apartment some time between four and five. I debated riding my bike, but I had plenty of time and love the walk between home and downtown, so I walked.

I ran into a couple of coworkers as I reached downtown and allowed them to talk me into loading myself down with stuff that they were moving from car to apartment. That done I hit the pub, ran into some friends and had my first couple of beers as well as a couple slices of pizza from somewhere. Next, as part of my intelligent plan, I ate at the Mexican place and had another couple of beers as well as a shot of tequila. The shot may have been my downfall as tequila has so often been in the past. Perhaps I need to relearn the lesson?

My intelligent plan involves me knowing that I drink too much given the chance. Last night however I thought about it. Yesterday before I even went anywhere I thought about it. I knew/know the thing I do, and I was hoping I'd recognize it before it happened. I planned to spend the whole night out, eating enough and drinking little enough so that I was able to enjoy myself and not be drunken me.

To my credit I didn't do anything horrible, did not treat anyone poorly, did not tell anyone how their band reminded me of things that suck. I didn't even see the band I had hoped to see.

I ended up at a different bar, ate some chicken tenders, drank another couple of beers, started to doze off at the bar, realized I was dozing off at the bar, and came home. I knew I was drunk, and I knew that my night was at an end, and I was sad to realize I'd completely done myself in by nine o'clock.

Yes, I was walking home drunk by nine. My amazing and intelligent plan was never really a plan at all. I drank myself all the way stupid. I did manage to come home and go to bed by a decent time though, and for that I suppose I could be proud. I did also wake up around two this morning, much too thirsty. I drank a few sips of water and laid back down, but as I was turning toward the wall and pulling the covers toward me I realized I needed to be in the bathroom immediately because all that bar food was going to rejoin us on the outside, which it did, and yes, I made it to the bathroom.

As I reread/edit this thing I see "intelligent plan" creeping around as if it was a thing I actually created but didn't follow. I did consider the idea of more of a plan, but it didn't happen. I'm keeping that in mind as I go into the next time I actually get a night out. I have no idea when that will be until I see next week's schedule and compare it to Momma's next week's schedule.

In a sense I'm happy to have gotten the night over with in the way I did. In another sense I'm yet again frustrated by my inability to take my time and ease into a night out. I wasn't out long enough to do anything stupid or piss anyone off. I didn't yell at anyone. I think I covered this part already, pretty thoroughly actually, but I'm being my cheerleader and trying to unfrustrate myself.

Now it's today. I slept in for the first time in weeks, though sleeping in for me these days is ten o'clock. And I was actually up before that. I woke much before that, but I finally got to lay in bed and stretch and luxuriate in my bed and covers and stretch some more. I dozed on and off and didn't even mind when my alarm went off. I don't remember setting it, but I got to hear some of the morning NPR stuff that I immediately forgot. Great ear for news and current events on this guy, let me tell ya.

Now I've had Cheerios and coffee and am currently enjoying some iced tea. I need to get out into the beautiful, sun filled outside. I need to find my panniers and get to the store. I've got plenty of food for a couple more days, but need paper based cleaning products of the bathroom specific variety. I go through a lot more of that stuff lately having the kids around more.

Finally, Mos Def Pandora is my current favorite thing.

keyboard drama

I may, at some point, have mentioned that my computer keyboard was dirty and had sticky keys. In the past couple of weeks I've accidentally typed more periods and J's than anyone could ever need. You should see the bill, though I hope to be able to talk to the letter company about the issue.

You may not remember that I griped about it on Facebook, but I did. A friend commented that keyboards are dishwasher safe. To me that sounds within the realm of possibility. I don't know a lot about computers, like really, though I can manage. You should see my repeated daily attempts to get the damn thing to accept that there is wifi out there for it and acquiring a network address can't really be that hard. But then I don't know what the hell a network address is beyond putting the meanings of the words together and making a guess.

I don't have a dishwasher, so of course I wasn't going that route, and I wasn't entirely sure that she didn't suggest such as a bit of a joke. I mentioned that it doesn't sound impossible that a keyboard could be dishwasher safe, but it also sounds like kind of a load of bullshit.

Another friend soon chimed in seconding the safety of the process as I was googling. I saw some suggestions that it could be okay and other general keyboard cleaning suggestions.

My plan, finally, was to remove the keycaps and wash them separately while hosing down the surface of the keyboard beneath them. I have to stop here and mention how truly dirty this damn thing was. I know the sort of group this computer came from, but I don't know which department. Either way, the amount of soft drink remains and hair under the keycaps was just short of revolting. Thankfully, the amount of sugar in soft drinks makes it easily removable with hot water, and the hair washed away alongside the drink, so it seemed as though we were in good shape.

The keycaps dried quickly enough, but the keyboard wanted to be drippy, and I should probably at least have given it a truly reasonable amount of time to dry, but I didn't do that. I did however plug it in too soon and cause something to happen that I can't now explain. Apparently holding down certain keys for five seconds causes the computer to go into some mode that then makes nothing work except an almost ominous beeping sound. It did give me a message on the screen possibly explaining what was happening, but I ignored it. Looking  back . . .

Knowing what my likely culprit was, water still in keyboard due to impatience on my part, I unplugged it and decided to take it apart. Surely I could dry it if I was careful. Most assuredly, I thought.

I was surprised at how little there is inside a keyboard. I don't suppose I'm as surprised with a few days behind me to think about it. I'm also still a bit amazed at human ingenuity and technical achievement. We can be pretty awesome when we want to.

None of that really matters in the end if you've destroyed your keyboard. I can't say that the water didn't do it because it's just as likely that I messed it all up by taking it apart to dry it. I did get it dry, but it still doesn't work.

And you can still operate some things without a keyboard. If you're still signed into sites you can visit, but Facebook with commenting isn't fun for any of us. Youtube with the videos they offer you is pop music that I reject by not listening to commercial radio and by using the search option. Without the internet you're left with Minesweeper unless your mouse also sorta sucks and free cell. I can only take so many of those cards before I flip my shit the rest of the way.

There is yet another keyboard, and I'm once again able to interact with the world using words. Okay, I've got my rather intelligent phone, but seriously, give me the keyboard and big screen so my head doesn't explode. I actually love my phone quite a bit, and more than that I appreciate that tiny, pocket sized computer. But it isn't the same sometimes.

Currently, the keyboard I'm using is from the much older computer, the one Momma and I bought when I first worked at the pub about eight years ago. That computer has been through some issues and is currently refusing to so much as turn on. It's at Momma's waiting for one of us to take the time to remove the hard drive and get someone to help us remove from it what we want.And now, were it to suddenly want to work, there is no keyboard to help tell it what to do.

Such is life, I suppose.

And now I'm looking at this keyboard and realizing how dirty it is. The keycaps are gray, or were gray, though there's a certain brown about them all now. The ones that get tapped the most are, or appear to be, clean on the top. I'm starting to think about . . .

No, seriously, if I just stick to the caps and don't let any water get near the base. And I can do it tomorrow, because I won't be near the computer again till Friday evening so that they will definitely be dry . . . Or I can get really high and get qtips and alcohol and get anal retentive.

Speaking of which, I had no idea Colorado was about to legalize marijuana. Did they keep that quiet to avoid it blowing up their faces, or am I just that out of it? I was probably smoking the day that came up in my feed reader.

new jacket

Yesterday began with a huge irritant made worse by the person inflicting my woe. I of course added to it with anger taken out on a completely innocent fleece jacket that has been my main jacket for a couple of years.

Funny story about that jacket. It's always been a little snug on me, and like many people, but before many also, I went through a bit of a baggy clothes style. Nirvana was big in those days, but I always preferred Mudhoney. Our clothes were a bit large sometimes with lots of flannel shirts and thrift store pants. So I never wore the jacket and at one point gave it to Momma who then also never wore it. I eventually got it back.

From there I did that whole going into the closet thing I still can't make sense of. My look grew from kinda punk to kinda guy that's getting older and is a little self conscious but still kinda punk. I've nearly always worked in kitchens and have seldom had much of dress code that didn't involve essentially my wardrobe. Even now I wear what I want, though having work shirts from the restaurant and pants I set aside solely as work pants is a new adventure. So I'm permanently jeans and a tshirt dude.

There's also the "motorcycle" jacket, purchased in the early days of Momma's and my relationship from a mall leather goods store. It's still in great shape and I've worn it twice in two years. The unfortunate fleece took its place soon after my accident with the beer and some shots and driving into things. Driving a car and/or walking are fine to do while inside a leather "motorcycle" jacket.

Riding a bicycle is a whole other story. I do know a guy that wears a leather jacket while riding a bike, but the less said about him and his spring loaded bouncemobile the better. Seriously, the bike comes from the biggerst of big boxes and is so awful. I've seen blondes waving from the rear dash of convertibles that were less cushy than this guy's bike. My bike would absolutely suck to ride while wearing the jacket I have. None of that is the point however.

And that's fine. I've learned to layer. I don't want the same level of warmth riding to work in the morning as I will want riding home late in the afternoon, and of course the same for night shifts and the late ride. The fleece was nearly perfect if not as windproof as one might like. It dried well enough if it didn't get too rained on, but sometimes that isn't an option you pick or don't pick, though it did seem to keep the water from you while  riding. And I looked good in it.

I did start to wear it on ocaission soon after coming out. I noticed it, remembered it, tried it on, checked the mirror and wondered where it had been all my life. I seriously love it. I thought about searching for the tiny, broken zipper pieces in the hope that maybe I could super glue it back together. I'm not convinced still that I won't try.

Given that I'm confined to my bike, for the most part, I kinda rely on my layers. I don't have any idea what to expect this winter, though if it's like the last one it will be unseasonably warm and will be behind us more quickly than should be regular. At the same time, given some of the temperatures we're seeing and my general hunch, this winter seems like it could go back to a more normal one.

Regardless, I've replaced the fleece with something made out of some polymer resin goop or some shit. I don't know because I've already stuffed the tags in the recycling. But it is the kind of jacket worn by people who want you to know (or at least think) that they are the kind of people who, when they aren't indoors, can be found outdoors doing stuff in the outdoors. They've also embroidered their logoon the jacket's cardinal directions, breast, sleeves, and back. I hadn't actually noticed that till I got it home, so now I really am going to look like those dudes.

Did I mention that the fleece was actually a women's jacket? Not in that I got it from a woman, because I really don't remember, but it was styled more than a men's jacket, part of the looking good, and not because I look good in women's clothes, though I'm sure I do.

I visited two different stores in my quest to find this jacket, both the sort of stores that sell people stuff to make them look they got outdoors to do their outdoors stuff. The first place had a bunch of ugly purple and blue shit designed to be seen by hunters and other hikers. They were more serious about their outdoors, but I didn't like it. Plus the fact that it used to be a cool restaurant, and the wine racks hold water bottles that can take strafing fire from a fighter jet and still keep you water cold, while the bar where I had my first great mojito looks like The Gap if their customers were also into outdoors.

So I went down the block to the more touristy place and found a lot of possibilities, some of which were even on sale. I tried several on, probably looking odd as I raised my arms, stretched, bent forward, swung my arms slowly. I wanted to mimic somewhat the motions I make on my bike and keep in mind that no matter how pretty something is, if it rides up and leaves my ass in the wind it isn't worth any amount of on sale right now.

I knew I'd found the jacket when I found the jacket. It was marked down slightly and marked as for women. It's also a little more fitted than the men's jackets, and I already felt like I probably at least looked all right in it. I didn't check myself out in the mirror because it just kinda felt gay, but I didn't really need to. Okay, I totally did, but I waited till I got home.

I still haven't worn it on the bike. We had a beautifully sunny day here, and I didn't want to miss any of it. I'd worn a flannel which was just enough. It's big enough to easily fit over layers, but it's not so big that I'm smothered in it. I have worn it outside a couple of times to inhale the fumes of burning plant matter, and so far it seems to work well enough.

And yes, knowing me, someone will ask about my new jacket and I will point to and joke about the nut on my jacket. Yes, old as I am, and that's still my best material.

broken record-ish

This is Saturday number two that I've had off lately, and I might have another one next week as well. It tends to precede having to work Sunday, though I'm not convinced it's a fair trade. It's of course made worse because brunch, which I hate working.

I love going to brunch. But then who doesn't? And then of course I'm already downtown on a Sunday, what better than to visit the bars I never see during the week? Of course that never happens despite my best intentions. I end up at the pub watching football or where I work hearing from coworkers about their day.

But I get to work tomorrow and rush home to wash dishes and feed the kids leftovers probably. My day off involved bicycle working on yet again, and though most of it was easy and sorta fun, adjusting brakes is my eternal downfall. I can never seem to get them right until after I've messed them up, and by that point getting them right involves riding on them until I can get my friend or the lbs to fix it right.

And so it will be with Big Brother's bike. The brakes are not exactly right but are good enough for now, and I doubt he'll be going too far just yet anyway. However, given my upcoming work schedule and Thanksgiving holiday I'm planning on planning a ride with him, though ride might mean to either of the close lbs for an adjustment.

Holiday excitement of the bike variety is coming, our local Tour de Lights, which I've already asked off for. Big Brother will want to go as will Momma and The Boy. The Boy still won't ride his bike so much as attempt over and over to position it perfectly. I try to help, but he doesn't want help he doesn't ask for and is more likely to quit if advised. Left to himself he will give himself time to try. Alas it's my nature to guide and advise and make too long stories careen off into what- was-I-talking-about-?-oh-yeah. That's never helpful.

Of course if he doesn't make the christmas ride there's always the spring ride, and by then he's sure to have moved from this crappy bike to his first geared bike. Surely. And hell, maybe by then I'll have stopped talking about bikes all the time.

Based on the quality of our news services these days, I won't be surprised to learn some time tomorrow that Hostess is actually doing just fine.

Given the quality of management basically anywhere, up to and including large frankenfood organizations, I won't be surprised if this is not some elaborate hoax to drive us into a mad Twinkie buying frenzy. I'm thinking New Coke here, and yes, I still believe it was a stunt. It's like Brown Squirrel Furniture going out of business twice a year, and you can still see their ass sitting off I40. Lyin' ass bitches.

But I digress. NPR said it, so it must be true, Hostess is shutting down because their "bakers" went on strike. I do know that it isn't quite that simple.  There's sure to be much more to the story, perhaps even some clever nuance.

I could give a shit. I haven't eaten any of their fine products in quite some time. I do actually have some Reese's cups that I picked up in order to both eat and to spite The Boy. He isn't a sharer of candy, even if it's free, besides the costumed walking around asking for it part. I happened to notice one of my not so guilty pleasures at the local grocer, marked down post Halloween.

I do have a dark chocolate/candied ginger thing that I keep forgetting about, and there are chocolate covered  raisins somewhere. I just don't eat a lot of highly sweetened, shitty food I guess, so I'm trying to imagine the actual affect on me of  there not being  Hostess breads and cakes to continue not purchasing and eating.

And what will the fallout be? Will someone purchase it and continue the operations?  Will America lose a treasured icon and obesity enabler? Will Dr. Wilcox give young Evelyn the bad news? Will I finally get up and get myself a beer?

In closing, I did get myself a beer. It's a New Belgium Snow Day.

baby the bars for the st em of it

I'm taking a break in the middle of accomplishing a bike project. Actually, I'm close to the end, but this last bit is going to be the part that is likely to most try my patience.

Truth be told the bike is probably a tiny bit large for me. I don't have the money to go and get custom fit for a custom bike, though that would be pretty cool if I did. So I'm doing the next best thing, making the bike I have fit as well as possible.

I'm closer to that being a mission accomplished finally after having replaced my old stem with a slightly smaller one. The stem is the part that holds your handlebars, fwiw, You may also hear them referred to as a goose neck.

I did the part where you rip off the old handlebar/grip tape. And I pulled the break levers off. Cleaning the old adhesive off the handlebars is also a thing of the past. The new stem is installed, the handlebars are on it, and the brake levers are reatached. Other than adjusting and tightening the brakes themselves, the last job is to wrap the handlebars in new tape.

Without going into too many specifics, it would be nice if my bike were attached enough to something so that it was still and stable without my having to use my body to make it so. I don't have anything like that, so what I'm left with, in my tiny apartment, is the metal kitchen rack as well as the stripper pole that is part of my kitchen area.

I'll probably lock my bike to the pole and wedge it just so enough. I'm sure I can do it, and I'm also sure it might can wait for tomorrow.  I still need to get the brake/shifter replaced on the mountain bike, and now that I think about it I have to either figure out how to get the grip off and back on or decide to also replace those.  They are old, and I can't imagine paying too horribly much for a pair that is newer and better. I've ridden the mtb lately, and the old grips leave a little something to be desired.

On a related note, the wheel from the bike soon to carry Big Brother is at the lbs getting some spokes on. It should be ready tomorrow. I still need to clean some rust off his handlebars, but shortly after that I'll be doing the second taping job of my life, so perhaps my own bike is practice for his.

Finally, I really wanted sparkly, purple tape to match my saddle. Yes, we cyclists call it a saddle, because it is one. Remind me sometime to tell you about my friend Dutchy. She'd have gotten that joke. As for purple tape, the other lbs found some for eighty bucks. It's leather and from highly regarded saddle maker. I considered my response for exactly no seconds. In fact, I'm certain I uttered the phrase, "Fuck that shit." It definitely sounds like me.

typical wed. anymore

I'm still a night owl. I think my body may just prefer those late night hours that I've essentially given up for the now. I was in bed around midnight last night, hours early for the old me and even now a bit early for me, but I keep reaching this point most nights where I realize that being tired doesn't just go away, that you have to go to sleep.

So I did, and I keep doing it sometimes.

There's this subconscious thing going on in my head telling me I'll miss out on something. I know it's not true, but my body is programmed a certain way, and it isn't always easy undoing that. There's also years of working in restaurants, working such a mix of day and night shifts, too many times when you attempt to force your body to accept four hours of sleep tonight in exchange for up to eight on a night/morning to be determined.

And because today is my day off I could go back to bed. Momma came and took the kids to school, and today is my day off. I could go back to bed, could stretch and luxuriate in the comfort.

Instead I have laundry laundering. There's only the one load, but I'm glad Momma had the quarter I needed to make up the two and a half bucks a wash and dry costs at my apartments, and I'm glad that my single load was exactly a single load. And when that's done there's a shower in my future. After that I have this laundry as well as the last load to fold, and I need to get to last night's dishes before I add more to them. Finally I need to get Momma to be my taxi driver so that I can run some errands. I won't even mention all the bike stuff I need to do. I keep putting that off and could probably turn it into another blog post worthy of my awesome skills, but maybe I won't.

And by eleven o'clock tonight I'll be getting tired. I might be out on the town as I don't have the kids tonight and don't work  tomorrow till the evening. Either way, it'll be cold, and I'll curse it helplessly.

So that's my plan for the day. I've already begun, now I can get to whatever part is next just as soon as I finish the second half of my wake and bake.

get out in it already

I feel that lazy Sundays are best spent lazily. Also, I still don't have everything I need to do the bike stuff I need to do and won't likely get those things today.

The weather is beautiful, and I really should be out in it. I have been at work or at home with the kids all of this past week, which isn't a bad thing. Sure, I kinda hate the work part, but the with kids part has been fun, and it's been nice having to be around them more often. Momma's new job involves later hours which means a lot of things apart from the kids and stuff.

Anyway, Sunday is happening all around except for at the construction site next door. They didn't get quite as early a start as weekdays and Saturday, but they were up, and so was I, but I was up before they got here.

That's another different thing. While Momma is being up and working later, I've been getting up to wake the boys up for school, and then most days I'm just up a little earlier than usual for work, and for the first time ever I'm setting a personal record for times up on time as well as to work on time.

I should be so proud of myself. Instead I'm really just hoping the construction workers make it an early day and get the fuck on, but I'm sure they're going to get the other half of the roof on instead. Also, from what I can see, there isn't a hot one in the bunch.  There's the obviously boss guy that stays clean and prowls the site who seems like a maybe. Plus, I'm not in a hurry to be the weird guy that stands and stares from the apartments next door.

This post has gotten pointedly disjointed even for me. Did I mention the computer? It's been sitting in a box for a while, sort of a gift from a brother who got it from his employer when they replaced their old system. I finally ran my errands that involved all the random things I need but don't want to have to cram into an already full pannier or backpack. It happens.

Knowing where this computer came from I have to wonder about the overall stickiness of the keys on the keyboard, some more than others.  I can imagine the mouse is just a cheap old mouse that came with the computer and has been through a lot. Mice get that way, but once you get to just how much to press the button it starts to suck less. 

And I bought a usb thing that sometimes gets the wifi my apartments serve up. It may or may not be working now as is its want. I snatch it in little handfuls when I can. I also got underwear and socks, but neither of those are really worth mentioning other than in passing because they were part of the fruitful shopping venture. Fine steel wool was not, however.

Because Big Brother didn't finish his coffee before Grandma came to pick the boys up for church I've just finished the concoction he makes with coffee and sugar. It wasn't really that bad as I could still taste the underlying good coffee flavor beneath the sugar. I actually made a little more coffee than I meant to, the price you sometimes pay using a French press, but the point here is that I dumped the overflow into a pint glass earlier to get it out of the press pot. I can feel it sitting behind me now, waiting for me to come grab it and drink it down.

Beyond the call of the coffee I can almost feel the call of outside and riding a bike to drink a beer on a patio. The two beers I've enjoyed on a patio this week were in the cold of nearly late night and rushed between work and home. Which brings us back to the good parts of responsibility of course, but that isn't a concern for today.

Soon after enjoying a patio I'll return some books to the library and pick up a couple more. Have I mentioned Gore Vidal? Have I mentioned that I'm typically late to things? Yeah, I've discovered him for myself finally. He's been keeping me busy on and off for a couple of months.

So that's my day so far. How are you?

and there he was

Lately, more often than is really healthy, each day at work is one of those days. I keep feeling as if it's time to walk out, but at my age, and with this economy  . . .

Of course I'm not going to walk out, but I've now worked at this place longer than at any other restaurant. There are so many other restaurants around where I work, the neighborhood in which I would prefer to stay, and there are so many things out there I could be cooking.

It isn't as grand as all that of course, but we do okay. The problem is that I  don't really think I want to work at any of them. Of course there's the training and settling in period, a time I've come to dread. It's that time when you feel like you haven't got it all down yet, and you still don't know the servers by name for the most part. The managers are all displaying their personalities, but you don't know them yet, so sometimes you just don't know what to expect.  You also need to be doing your damnedest in the kitchen, because you are being judged until you truly prove yourself.

I can handle all of that, though lately my ego has taken some hits, and there's that age thing again. I still feel sometimes as if I can whip anybody's ass in that kitchen. I can work harder and longer than any of them. I can lift more than any of them. I can chop and slice faster and more perfectly than any of them. I can even wash dishes faster.

Of course none of them make noises when they lift a case of number ten cans. They don't get almost stuck because they bent over to reach down into the cooler. And most of them will leave by the time they graduate and get "real" jobs.

But more importantly, as I reach whatever point I'm reaching, I have to ask myself how much longer I can reasonably expect to work as I am now, and when I can't do it anymore, what next? As of now there are no answers to either question, but as the need to at least consider the first seems to grow nearer, the second becomes the more worrisome of the two.

What it all comes back around to in the end is that I need to start investing in the lottery again. That thing seems like a pretty good deal, make a few million dollars then sit back and watch the awesome, fun times start rolling in. Plan B is to marry for money, but that's not happening in this state any time soon, so I won't push it to A status just yet.

I suppose there are other options, perhaps some even intelligent. Perhaps I'll think along those lines instead, or I could accept that I'm going to die with either a sautee pan or a knife in my hand, and the only reason people will know that something is wrong is that too many seconds have passed without me saying something hilarious and intelligent with just the heaviest slather of cynicism and ennui.

the sound of construction

I should be getting ready for work in order to get there as early as I'd like, but my shopping trip earlier was mostly fruitful, and I'm using an actual computer for at least now. Maybe later I'll tell you the story, but right this moment I'm listening to Descendents via a cd which is only remarkable if you already know that I've been without a cd player for a while.

I love that I can use my phone to listen to Pandora, but what's the point of all those cd's when your player quits on you? Of course I still have cassettes, and that machine ain't broken. I can only imagine how much music is going to change as well as the ways we'll be able to access and listen to it in the future.

None of that's really the point. That it was a firewall issue once I called dude down to help me with my connectivity issues isn't the point either, but it did happen and was in fact a firewall issue.  Sometimes it's just that simple.

The only point I might have is that it's nice to have more than my phone to use the same services to connect to the world. And won't the kids have a blast tomorrow morning when they wake up and we can do stuff.  Big Brother will get to see his facebook page for reals. The Boy can something else I'm sure.  That is certainly part of the point. I suppose we can now sit at the dining table and watch videos and stuff.

Yes, it's at the table, the table where we eat. This is where it fits until something better comes along. And to celebrate our Benton's bacon baked potatoes tomorrow night we'll watch something mindless while eating. That just really feels good to say.

Getting back to my shopping trip I have to admit to not finding any fine steel wool. I need it to remove some handlebar rust, though I did get cleaning products and internet thing, so that's good. That was never the point either, but for such a rambling and mindless post it was as good an entrance as any other I came up with.  I'm settling however for nothing with which to close.