I overhear my boy saying to the dog, “What’s your favorite TV show with a dog in it? Scooby-Doo? Huckleberry Hound?”
“Huckleberry Hound!?” I say. “Where did you ever hear of Huckleberry Hound?”
“It’s on Channel 348.”
I overhear my boy saying to the dog, “What’s your favorite TV show with a dog in it? Scooby-Doo? Huckleberry Hound?”
“Huckleberry Hound!?” I say. “Where did you ever hear of Huckleberry Hound?”
“It’s on Channel 348.”
I think about things that might have been and never were.
The treatise on Saxon myths that Bede omitted to write.
The inconceivable work that Dante may have glimpsed
As soon as he corrected the Comedy’s last verse.
History without two afternoons: that of the hemlock, that of the Cross.
History without Helen’s face.
Man without the eyes that have granted us the moon.
Over three Gettysburg days, the victory of the South.
The love we never shared.
The vast empire the Vikings declined to found.
The globe without the wheel, or without the rose.
John Donne’s judgment of Shakespeare.
The Unicorn’s other horn.
The fabled Irish bird which alights in two places at once.
The child I never had.
[Ed. Note: The unusual spellings are from the original source.]
If I could live again my life,
In the next – I’ll try,
– to make more mistakes,
I won’t try to be so perfect,
I’ll be more relaxed,
I’ll be more full – than I am now,
In fact, I’ll take fewer things seriously,
I’ll be less hygenic,
I’ll take more risks,
I’ll take more trips,
I’ll watch more sunsets,
I’ll climb more mountains,
I’ll swim more rivers,
I’ll go to more places – I’ve never been,
I’ll eat more ice creams and less (lime) beans,
I’ll have more real problems – and less imaginary ones, I was one of those people who live prudent and prolific lives – each minute of his life, Offcourse that I had moments of joy – but,
if I could go back I’ll try to have only good moments,If you don’t know – thats what life is made of,
Don’t lose the now!I was one of those who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, without a hot-water bottle,
and without an umberella and without a parachute,If I could live again – I will travel light,
If I could live again – I’ll try to work bare feet at the beginning of spring till the end of autumn, I’ll ride more carts,
I’ll watch more sunrises and play with more children,
If I have the life to live – but now I am 85, – and I know that I am dying …
. . . a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a
leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother’s face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father’s heart?
Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly, we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved ghost, come back again.
Right . . .
She doesn’t have the patience for a full explanation of the rules, the pieces and how they move . . .
MOM: How do I win? I kill your king?
BOY: Mmmm . . . yes.
MOM: Which one is the king?
Man plans, God laughs.
A VP has asked me to review a Microsoft Project schedule printed out on 16 legal-size pages. The first thing that jumps out at me is that the level of detail in the schedule far exceeds the quality of information we have about the state of the world and the project at the future dates and times represented.
I don’t see how you can break tasks down to this level of detail, add in dependencies, and state that Task XYZ is going to start at 2 o’clock in the afternoon on some date 14 months from now.
And I would say that if the success of your project depends on your ability to forecast the future to that degree of precision, you are DOOMED from the outset . . .
Thus spoke The Programmer.
From a Wall Street Journal article on excessive lender processing fees:
An application fee? Charges for document preparation? An “administration” fee? They even want you to pay their postage. I’m surprised lenders aren’t charging for in-office backrubs for overworked loan officers.
Ho Ho!
Actually, the mortgage bank I work with does subsidize 50 percent of the cost of in-office massages . . .
In October 1989, I was in the Bay Area for the USC-Cal football game. We saw the game on Saturday, flew home Sunday afternoon, then on Monday, Oct. 18, at 5:04 PM, a 6.9 earthquake killed 63 people, injured 3,757 and caused around $6 billion in property damage, including the collapse of a section of the Oakland Bay Bridge.
Shortly after my return from a recent trip to Disney World, Hurricane Charley swept across Florida, causing an estimated $7 to 14 billion in damage, and ripping the roof off of three terminal buildings at Orlando International Airport.
I’m a harbinger of disaster . . .
Today’s the day
We’ll say “I do”
And we’ll never be lonely anymore.
For decades, I thought this was just a happy, sappy little ditty . . . now I wonder if it isn’t one of the most bitterly ironic songs ever written.
We’ll love until
The end of time
And we’ll never be lonely anymore . . .
From Netcraft:
The LinuxWorld Expo in San Francisco is the center of the Linux universe this week, celebrating the best Linux apps and advancing the cause of Linux in business. If you can’t be at the Moscone Center, you can read the latest conference news at the LinuxWorld Expo web site, which naturally is powered by … Windows Server 2003.
Linux enthusiasts are not alone in finding their “World” running on Microsoft software, as the Mac World Expo is also hosted on Windows Server 2003.
On this date in 1884, the cornerstone was laid for the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty. (We got the statue for free — the pedestal we had to pay for.)
One of the most historic fundraisers was the Pedestal Art Loan Exhibition, to which Walt Whitman, Mark Twain and others donated manuscripts for auction.
Emma Lazarus donated a poem called “The New Colossus,” which sold for $1,500, but was mostly forgotten until 1945, when it was inscribed over the main entrance at the base of the statue.
There was a profile of Jerry Buss, the owner of the Lakers, on TV the other night . . .
Buss spent very little time with his family when his kids were growing up. When he and his wife separated, they didn’t tell the kids, and it was five years before any of them noticed the difference.
True story!
Clearly, I have not been nearly as ruthless as I could have been at disregarding my family in my pursuit of success.
On a bus ride from the hotel to one of the parks, we were seated behind a short, fat hayseed with an enormous head . . . we passed a number of landmarks and attractions, none of which seemed to capture his interest.
Then, just as we arrived at the Magic Kingdom, he jumped halfway out of his seat, pointed to a clearing in the woods and shouted, “Turkeys! Wild turkeys, right there!”
Microsoft said Tuesday that it will boost its dividend, buy back shares and offer a $3-per-share one-time payout as part of a plan to return up to $75 billion to shareholders over the next four years.
Bill Gates announced that he will donate his share of the proceeds — he owns over 1 billion shares, so that comes to $3+ billion — to charity.
This is a picture of 14 pugs in a hatchback, although you can only see five of them really well. Ours — Lightning — is the one in the middle.
We tried taking pictures with the hatchback open so you could see the dogs better, but they all started jumping out, so we had to abandon that plan . . .
My son’s hockey game got completely out of hand. I’ve never seen a game like that . . . they led 11-9 before losing 12-11. My boy had eight goals. Neither team could stop anything.
A New Jersey woman recently pleaded not guilty to murdering her brother-in-law by serving him a blended cocktail of pineapple juice, maraschino cherries, and several ounces of antifreeze.
Interesting fact: Although antifreeze is toxic, it actually tastes pretty good, making it an ideal choice for knocking off spouses and boyfriends.
Sometimes I feel really old . . .
I’m not getting any younger
I’m not getting any smarter
I’m not getting any healthier
Sometimes I feel like 45 would be a pretty good age to die . . .
tediocrity (Te`di*oc”ri*ty)
n. pl. tediocrities
- The state or quality of doing tedious things that are of mediocre value.
- Ability to do, achieve, or perform in a tedious, mediocre manner.