|
Loud jets and evil computers
What a day. I dunno if I'm going to be able to look a computer in the face tomorrow. First I toiled at a recalcitrant web server at work, then I went home early to do a quick bit of work on Colette (the program that runs Jette's and Molly's and Iain'sjournal sites) and then work on mouth organ, which I knew in advance was going to be arduous because I not only had to report on the second half of the survey results but format a 53K table of all the responses.
I figured I'd finish the Colette work in about an hour, get an early start on the column for a change, and actually have some time to spare.
Well, I didn't finish the Colette work until five o'clock. But then I outdid myself, finishing mouth organ by eight-thirty ... and Nonelvis volunteered for the tedious task of reformatting the data, bless her ... leaving me enough time to go to the store and get the cookies I badly needed to survive. (I brought Nonelvis Klondike bars. Everyone should have a reward for nasty data munging.)
And now everything has been tucked away securely, and I actually have time to write this. Except, now that I can unwind, I find that my brain has completely run out of words for the day.
Several local readers wrote me to tell me what the Globe also told me this morning: The loud noise from last night was four Navy F-14s flying in formation as part of the ceremonies for the All-Star game.
You wouldn't believe the hype for that game. Four days of fanfare, shows, events, buildup, and all for a baseball game. No baseball game is worth that, not even one where Pedro Martinez struck out the first four National League batters in a row, including Sammy Sosa and Mark "my ego takes natural steroids too" McGwire.
Anyway, the jets were flying at 1200 feet and had permission to exceed their normal flight speed of 250 knots, according to the Globe. 1200 feet. Small wonder Logan Airport got over 200 complaints and panicked calls from people who thought the world was going to end. Everyone mentioned hearing it today, even people out in the 'burbs. Whose bright idea was this (she says crankily)?
No other news except that I walked out to my Toyota this evening, for the aforementioned Klondike Cookie Expedition, and pulled what I thought was a parking ticket from my windshield. Instead it was a folded note which read
Hi Andrea -
Get a trunk emblem for this thing!
Now, while it's true that my car's trunk has been tragically without its insignia for some years now, I don't know an Andrea. And I'm certainly not Andrea, unless I've been leading a double life I'm unaware of.
This amused me more than it probably should have.
© Columbine
|
|
