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Tuesday, Dec. 21, 2004
~~ Let me tell you this. Sitting around the house all day and not working? Makes your typical Outfoxed lad feel grumpy. Plenty grumpy. Also, every time CaptainRon updates I want to charter a plane and fly up there so the two of us can sit around and be miserable together. His pain so much be mine. Also, to drink and figure out sailing config’s. And other important stuff. But mostly to drink. Unemployment is such a nannyified nuisance.

~~ I’ve actually reverted to doing house maintenance. Yesterday, I fixed the upstairs toilet. Which, if you knew my preferences in that field, would signify that I had gone completely off the edge of the earth. Today, I fixed the flopping front door. It’s a screen door which flops most impressively in a mild wind, and which backhands adjacent light fixtures in a high wind.

I went to Home Despot, bought some new closers and kicked that sumbitch square in the teeth. Twenty minutes. About average for a reasonably competent carpenter. But it does not explain what on earth I did for the rest of the day. Unless you count internet time. Or that stop off at the Watering Hole on the way back from HD.

~~ My son, and heir to the vast Outfoxed Fortune is 17 years old. He has a really crappy car, a not-so-bad after school job and a very high maintenance girlfriend. His schedule makes my day look like a walk in the park. But. Why on earth do I have to scream, at a pre-set time each and every day, for him to “Get the hell outta bed and get to school”? I mean, why is that?

~~ We had approximately one-half inch of snow here yesterday, and they declared schools closed (ice, don‘t you know. Deadly ice.). I didn’t have to alert my son to this fact. He slept right through the morning very nicely, thank you.

~~ When I was a boy (and this is totally non-shitterary, by the way) I lived exactly one mile from my elementary school. During the period of time that they expected me to attend the first through the third grade, the school board was unable to schlep the funds to get a bus to pick up me or the rest of the kids in the neighborhood because we lived within the non-tax applicable one mile walk zone. If you lived within one mile, you either walked to school or screamed to your parents “Get the hell outta bed and get me to school”. There wasn’t any other option.

I lived in the most snow-prone region in the entire country. Far and away, there was a better chance of snow on the ground on any particular day in winter than anywhere else in the country.

I never once had to yell at my parents since, incredibly, they were both up long before me anyway. But I don’t recall many occasions when I didn’t have to walk a mile to school either.

Pretty obviously, I survived all of that. Without a second thought, I might add. And I never even contemplated any legal action. Never once.

Then the school board discovered the munificence of taxation, got some buses shook loose when fourth grade hit and I’ve been a wimp ever since.

I still wonder how many parents today would let their first grade kid walk a mile to school, one way, snow or not.

In 1964, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

~~ My kids still look at me as if I had two heads when I tell that story .

~~ On the other hand, nobody in 1964 could have convinced me that I’d spend the lions share of a day with a wireless notebook in my lap typing out inanities, some 40 years later.

~~ I read an insufferable amount of material online on a daily basis. Quite a few sites are blogs. And I can tell you this. A lot of Bloggers need to move smartly off the premise that everyone wants to read their political views. Not a few of them toss up 4 or 5 posts per day as world events are released by the media and they screech and gobble and generally copy each other like so many chickens in the barnyard scratching after a handful of feed. I envy them the 4 or 5 posts, the output, but the content becomes endlessly predictable.

A good blog has a recipe for cornbread, a picture of a goat and a funny anecdote. All within three paragraphs totaling 200 words.

Write me one of those and I’m yours forever.

Plus, and this is something I can’t grasp to this day, where on earth do these people find the time to do it? I mean, they’re admittedly employed, working 8 hours a day, yet they post all day long from work and then go home and post some more.

Lord help me, but I want that job.

~~Couple more weeks of sitting around the house and I’ll be wanting just about any job. Blogging or not.

~~ Guestbook Thanks for reading.

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