Time for warm weather cocktails

I just had my first gin and tonic of the season. Ahhhh. Now I’m motivated to see if I have any Pimm’s left in the liquor cabinet. My previous roommate “borrowed” my last bottle, and never replaced it. We have a local ginger ale that goes quite well with it, lacking the proper fizzy lemonade. Hmmm, that sounds like something that would travel well this weekend – they’re calling for temperatures in the upper 80’s in Charlotte. Now I need to go add cucumbers to the grocery list.

Sounds reasonable to me

Failing to profile based on one's life experiences is to abandon man's basic instinct to learn through trial and error. Such trials, when cataloged by intelligent people, reduce and oftentimes eliminate unnecessary future errors. This is good.

I don't have much of an opinion on Nugent personally, other than I saw him play the National Anthem live before a Minnesota Twins game about 20 years ago, and it was clear that he "got" it (unlike Roseanne Barr). But if you don't evaluate (profile, judge, appraise, gauge, classify, etc.) what's going on around you -- if you can't take what you've learned and apply it to a new situation -- well, I probably can't dumb it down enough to explain to you why you should.

That just ain’t right

For Mother’s Day, I received a gift certificate so I could download some music. I wanted to start filling in the missing chunks from the “collection”, especially from my college years when I couldn’t afford much. Among other things, I picked up some Bryan Ferry/Roxy Music, Patti Smith, Haircut 100, Dropkick Murphys, and Benny Goodman’s “Sing Sing Sing”. (What can I say? I was raised on Big Band, Dixieland, and bagpipes.) I thought back to what vinyl I had that didn’t survive the move of 1999, and I remembered my first week of college and hearing U2’s Boy for the first time. So I went and downloaded “I Will Follow”. And then I saw this, and my world sort slipped into another dimension.





Look! The Edge isn’t the only one losing his hair …

Next week at this time

We'll be in Charlotte unless catastrophe hits. And plans are to be at the soiree Breda is organizing Saturday night. My introverted self is looking forward to meeting new people, and I’m glad that Breda got us a room where maybe the background noise will be low enough that a bunch of people who may have been a little too lax with hearing protection or little too enthusiastic with those cool little Walkman headphones in their youth can hear each other. Or, at least the lighting will be bright enough that we can see to lip-read.

Don't sugarcoat it.

This sums things up pretty succinctly. Back when one didn’t have to apologize for the possibility of hurting somebody’s feeeeeeeeeeeeeelings just because Grandpa Schmidt still had family in the old country.

It's interesting to see "center of target" instead of "center of mass" being illustrated.

Pun

There were three Indian squaws. One slept on a deer skin, one slept on an elk skin, and the third slept on a hippopotamus skin. All three became pregnant. The first two each had a baby boy. The one who slept on the hippopotamus skin had twin boys.

This just goes to prove that the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.

It's rough being a kid

I picked up Sweet Daughter from daycare this afternoon, stopped to get gas before running to the library, and then home to start dinner. I finished filling the tank, put the gas cap back, gave it a twist, grabbed my receipt and hopped in the Family Truckster only to see Sweet Daughter looking like her heart was broken, with tears streaming down her face, as she heroically tried to stop sobbing.


“Sweetie! What’s wrong? Are you okay?!!?”

::: sniff ::: sniff ::: SNIFF! :::

“It’s just that I’m a little sad (sniff) because I can’t go to the gun range until I’m seven, and I’m (sob!) ONLY FOUR AND A HALF!!!”

Her dad and I don’t talk guns much. I didn't think we talked about the range in front of her to the extent that she would think it was some sort of mecca. We certainly don’t have the time we’d like to spend at the range (I haven’t been since the beginning of the year), and so I don’t know WHERE she gets if from. It must be genetically encoded somewhere in her DNA.

Anyhow, I did my best to console her with the fact that when we go to Charlotte in less than two weeks, they’ll have a range there, just for kids. She'd better bring her piggy bank.