TubaOrNotTuba

This house is filled with “game” machines that I don’t use. I don’t know how, I don’t intend to learn and I tolerate them in much the same way a cat “tolerates” people that aren’t in the small circle of friends. The word for today is “disdainfully”. However, they are computers, so I have a drive to “improve” them, whenever and by whatever means arises. Parts are my thing, I guess.

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Non-linear thinking. My response to a world with too much information and too little time. This evening hockey has given way to GTA (the new one) and there’s a radio soundtrack that will need careful investigation if I can get past the gunfire and squealing tires. I’ve taken shelter with some Jelly Bellies and the weekly American Idol showdown. Even if the voting doesn’t follow the talent…

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It’s been a long, tough winter around here. Now that the ground has reappeared, I’ve been doing the necessary inventory of damage and we’re going to remember this season as perhaps the hardest we’ve ever had. Nothing extreme; the earthquake back in 1988 will hold the record for destruction by force of nature for a while (I hope), but there are odd little reminders that man won’t win in a hand-to-hand with the climate.

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Ask an average person “What would a program on CBC called Land And Sea be about?”, and the response is predictable. Farming and fishing. Don’t underestimate the producers at CBC, though, because that response is too easy. This afternoon, I learned that the cymbal industry is alive and well in New Brunswick, and that your average cymbal is never average. With thousands of models to choose from, and a market that is extremely competitive, it’s a world that requires sizzle and crash.

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When the bowsprit of his sailboat ran into (and through) the wall that defined the horizon, he knew something was “not as it seemed”. The strange set of coincidental moments in his life, until then, had not been enough for our hero to realize something in his world was odd, almost predestined. When a voice explained that he was talking directly to “the creator”, things slipped into focus. This wasn’t a Bill Cosby skit involving God and Noah and some inclement weather.

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There; another software update completed without mishap. This new version of WordPress does something really well; it lets me know when new code is available, and the installation process is painless. Other than the time required to erase the older base (typically about thirty minutes using my FTP client), the transfers are simpler than before, and the database structure is stable. Let’s say it in colloquial terms: the new version rocks!

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Never lower your guard, or else you’ll get hit. Sound like advice from that old feller down at the local sports club, the one that hangs around the practice ring and won’t shut up for more than the three minutes of a given round, doesn’t it. Not quite (I haven’t had to box anything more than my puppy in years). What I have in mind is the wacky world of the computer virus.

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I am not a vexillologist. Therefore my impressions are probably erroneous, but based on observation, feudal times have returned. What else could explain the sudden blossom (think algal) of flags attached to the side windows of cars driven (fast) by young men wearing baseball caps (often twisted to one side)? They’re probably supporting knights who plan to go into battle.

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So, which one of the fans got a little excited this time? In a world where basic city police techniques are taught by the cast of The Simpsons, does it really matter? Last night there was a hockey game. Last night the hometown team won. Last night there was no system of functional law in place in downtown Montreal. Are we clear on all the facts here?

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An ad on TV this evening caught my eye (that’s what it was supposed to do) and then took me down the “What If?” pathway. The advertiser: our national passenger rail corporation. The idea: that I come and ride the train, on an adventure through beautiful scenery, in comfortable, “worry free” seating, just because I can. I’m easily distracted by the idea; after all, I have something like 32 trips on The Ocean under my belt.

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