TubaOrNotTuba

Several million of my friends and I just witnessed a robbery.

Some things are important only in the moment, and a few minutes ago Sidney Crosby did exactly what every Canadian kid has been trained to do. That old couplet: “He shoots, he scores”. No doubt in my mind, because I wasn’t distracted by anything else; the puck crossed that magic line and was then yanked back out by a guy pretending to be a goalie. The damage was already done; he’d let the puck into the net, and then he removed it. Distinct breach in etiquette as well as a clear case of goal theft.

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Today I have shown great bravery. In a time when safety comes in cans, I went to the local market and purchased creatures from the “ocean deep”, for consumption by those I love. You see, I’m a Maritimer that doesn’t get crustacean fever. I’ve never boiled a lobster, although I’ve caught them, chased them, raced them, listened to the song of the “claw chorus”. When you put hundreds of the beasties together in a fish shed, they’re noisy (and angry).

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Maybe this whole wireless Internet thing isn’t ready for the real world, just yet. My own level of personal tolerance has been obvious; who else would wait two years to get connectivity. And i was willing to lay the blame where it belonged, at the door of those manufacturers that kept their cards close to their chests, only sharing proprietary information with the big guys in Redmond. More and more though, I think we have a generalized problem.

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Back in 1852, when the Free Education Act authorized Island communities to establish their own schools, proximity was everything. If the law said that schools could not be any closer than three miles from one another, then that’s how things would be. And if you couldn’t face the long mile-and-a-half uphill through waist deep snow, then you took the family horse. Exercise was part of daily life, and the local fitness club simply didn’t exist; it didn’t serve a purpose. Above all else, school was accessible.

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The yellow bar across the bottom of the TV screen was not delivering a prophecy, with the “One more contestant goes home tonight”. Some things are predestined, and last night’s edition of American Idol simply confirmed what “had to happen”. When Simon told Jason “I’d pack your bags”, after the Reggae-Lite performer first underwhelmed us with a Marley number, followed by a Dylan tune where the lyrics seemed to be optional, there was no argument from the rest of the room.

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Let’s give credit to parents with children who decide (together) that post-secondary studies are a worthwhile investment. I mean that in both the literal and the subjective senses, because “me and mine” have been there and now the “mine and me” are considering the idea.

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Now that I go to bed early (because waking up is hard to do), I’ve had to swear off late-night TV. No more monologues from the triumvirate, or goofy walk-ons from the cinematic butterflies that have a new movie to flog. Except that once in a while, sleep remains elusive and I’ll find the two remotes needed to get a picture up on the wall above our bed. Like last night, when I stumbled across a documentary.

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The world of Linux is filled with potential. An operating system that doesn’t require payment to a very large corporation. The ability to tinker (and break things) which can only bring joy to the heart of the average alarm clock disassembler. A chance to program without having to program, if you see the nuance. Tons of support possibilities (metric or Imperial, your choice); if you can’t find someone to commisserate with your joys and sorrows then you need to check your Internet connection. And then there’s wireless…

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Do you remember when you would ask your parents for some money and after a “short period of reflection” they would dig out the coin purse, cross your palm with silver (in the old days, the mint actually used semi-precious metals) and ask you to explain, again, what exactly you were going to do with all that capital? Do you remember how you loved the idea of finally earning your own cash? No controls. Free to spend as you pleased, on your own where and when. In some places, freedom to manipulate currency is not a given.

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My particular relationship with software (I support other users) means that I read screens. Obsessively; if a programmer took the time to design an error dialogue, then it is my destiny to read what has been spawned. Not so, for my co-workers.

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