unlucky in laptops

“Have you heard about this one laptop per child thing?” my mom asked the other day.

“Isn't it something about donating money to get underprivileged kids a computer?”

“No...well maybe...but I think they want you to give them your old laptops,” she said. “It's terrible! Why would they be encouraging something like this?”

“I'm not even sure that they want anybody's old laptop...but even if they do, what's the harm in that?” I asked.

“I know all about these computers,” she explained. “These kids now a days, even if you erase your hard drive, they can go in and bring back everything! All your passwords and bank accounts...they could steal your whole identity! Not to mention all the porn that people download anymore. By giving them old laptops, all we're going to do is create a generation of identity thieves who will all be addicted to pornography!”

“Mom,” I tried to reason, “I'm sure that they would clean out the hard drives so nothing could be found. Why would you even be worried about this? You only use the computer to play solitaire.”

“I heard a report about it on 20/20. And besides, that's not true at all,” she responded. “I google and email all the time! I've gone digital!”

“You've gone digital?”

“Yes,” she said. “I used to do the New York Times crossword puzzle in the newspaper every morning, but now I do it on-line. I'm becoming very technologically savvy with all of these computer do-hickeys.”

My mom shifted gears and began relating a story about a distant cousin, but as I listened I couldn't help but feel sorry for the future kid that may one day inherit my mother's old computer. Because while all of his friends sit around stealing credit card numbers and watching pornography from the recovered hard drives of their donated laptops, the kid that got my mom's would be left trying to find a seven letter word for 'hapless'.

what would have been 300

I hate it when people post about how many postings they've posted. It's a completely self indulgent activity. And can posting a post to say that you've posted another post actually count toward your total post count? I highly doubt that this would even be considered a legitimate post if a council of blog regulations existed.

Theoretically, had the internet been around when I was born, I could have posted something every day stating, 'this is my first post' and 'this is my 134th post' and by now have been up to over 9,000 posts. They'd all amount to nothing more than a bunch of worthless crap, but 9,000 is quite a big number.

And having just written something about the number of posts I've posted, I'm ashamed to even count this as a post at all. At best, it's maybe a tenth of a post...or perhaps a quarter post. But not a full-fledged post.

So here it is, my 299.25th post.

Though I'm not even sure what would constitute a record number of posts. Now in sports, numbers mean something. 700 home runs. 50 touchdown passes. 35 broken bones (Evel Knievel's record). Those are numbers you can pick up women with in a bar.

And really, why even bother counting if it can't somehow get you laid?

my punctuational crush

I tend to use commas quite often when writing. And, after some reflection and soul searching, I have to admit that I think I might be in love.

Because of all the punctuation out there, none can compare to a comma. Periods signify an end and, for the most part, I don't care much for endings. Endings are always tinged with sadness. A period is sentence death, and even when you didn't particularly like the sentence you just read, death is still pretty much a bummer.

Sure you can reread the sentence, but it's never the same as that first time. You know what to expect. The excitement and thrill is gone. Sure, the familiarity is comforting, but it's been done before.

But with commas, you know that things aren't quite over yet. You and the sentence still have one more moment together. There's still time for you to be surprised or thrilled or intrigued. Things are going to go on...at least for a while. Which is also why I'm quite partial to the three periods in a row...a close cousin to the comma.

Of course, often you'll come to find that by prolonging the sentence your time was simply wasted. Nothing new was learned. It was a stupid sentence anyway, so why bother dragging it out? The relationship was over long before the comma.

But still, I love commas.

Exclamation points don't excite me. Too much emotional outpouring. It's tiring. And I find question marks to be rather whiny.

Colons signify that a list is coming, and I really don't care much for lists. And I just have never gotten the whole semicolon thing.

But with commas, there's still a chance for something to happen. I'm waiting for the day that some author realizes this and writes a whole book with nothing but commas. No periods. Just one long, never-ending whirlwind of a sentence. I would love that...unless the story sucked, that is. Then I'd probably be a little bit pissed.

But that's more the author's fault, so it's really not fair to blame the comma.

Basically, I, think, commas, are, great,

revived archives

Entry: October 8, 1998 from my fictitious diary.



Woke up. Went to work. Came home from work.


Was hungry. Wanted an omelet. Went to the supermarket. Returned home.


Began cooking omelet.


Realized that I forgot to buy eggs. Went back out to the supermarket. Returned home again.


Made omelet.


Realized that I really didn't want an omelet. What I was really hungry for was a hamburger.


Threw the omelet away.


Went out to McDonald's and bought hamburger. Returned home again. Ate hamburger.

Realized that I hadn't wanted the hamburger. I had actually wanted an omelet all along. Briefly considered getting omelet out of trash and eating it. Knew that this was a dangerous path to a life of vagrancy and bumdom.

I left it in the garbage can.

So upset at having chosen the wrong dinner that I barely enjoyed this evening's episode of Friends.

a change to the left

With the start of the new year, I felt the obligatory duty to make some type of attempt at change. I've long ago given up on the whole 'resolution' thing, determining that I simply don't have the resolve required for resolutions. But still, a plan, I reasoned, isn't really a resolution. It's simply a map toward a better life. And my life could clearly use some bettering.

So I began a mental checklist...lose weight, get in shape, pay off old debts, find true love. But after only a few items, I realized that everything listed would take a great deal of time and effort...the exact reason that I don't believe in resolutions in the first place. Things that require time and effort are difficult. And while I would surely welcome change, I'm not looking to increase my daily recommended dose of effort. So these items I changed from the 'change' category to the 'long term change' category, which basically means that they will again appear on next year's 'change' list.

I need something easy that will produce an automatic change, I thought to myself. And then, as if some higher power was listening, the answer came to me. Underpants!

My current underwear situation is stark. Most every pair I own is in the final stages of complete disintegration. Much like sawdust held tenuously together by one or two remaining threads. Now this, I felt, is a change that I could accomplish! And after a quick trip to my local underpants outlet, my new year was off to an excellent beginning.

Shortly after washing and wearing one of my new recruits, I started to question the whole notion of change.

Typically, I favor the boxer brief variety. Boxer shorts, I have found, don't provide the support that I ask for in a pair of underpants. Rather, it's like a bungee-jumping marathon is taking place in my shorts every time I start walking around. The boxer briefs tend to keep things nicely in their respective places without the geek-factor that's associated with the tighty-whiteys.

But as the day wore on in my new underpants, I noticed that things seemed to be off-center. More specifically, things felt quite left of center.

Things never felt off center in my old underpants, but these new ones clearly had a leftward point of view to them. And for the whole day, I remained off balance. The whole world had a different slant to it...a leftist slant. As I walked, I found myself leaning to the left. As I typed, I found that I was favoring the keys that my left hand could reach. Even my political views started leaning to the left.

True, I had accomplished a change...but this change just didn't feel right. It was simply too much of a change too quickly. I enjoyed my world view from the vantage point of my old underpants. Things had their place and actually stayed in their place in my previous underwear.

So, a week into the new year, I've foregone any notion of change. Maybe next year will be my year for improvement, but as for the rest of 2008, I'll be returning to the unchanged me.

At least until the final threads of my underwear snap.