Flip-flop fields and near misses
Due to my pragmatic view of things, I’m not going to miss any sleep over the near approach of an asteroid tomorrow afternoon. Little matter that it’s the size of a city bus, and scheduled to pass withing 8 kilo-miles (pardon the attempted mix of units). Let’s face it; if it hits it doesn’t matter, and if it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter.
There’s a documentary on TV as I write, describing the possible reversal of the earth’s magnetic field. I don’t paint reference numbers in my driveway, and my compass skills are rudimentary. If the needle suddenly seeks the south, I probably won’t notice for a while. Besides, I have a GPS. Do what you have to, magnetic flux. I’m OK with it.
There are no predicted volcanic eruptions in my neighbourhood, and we’ve had one earthquake of note in the last few decades. No need to get apprehensive. I’m more likely to die from a heart attack than from a sudden geophysical event. Bring on the plate of pork chops.
What is the deal with box stores selling consumer goods with their own model numbers. We came close to purchasing another camera this afternoon (I’ll try to change that to accomplished, on my checklist, tomorrow). Although the website showed the model we wanted, the store didn’t have it. There were similar products, but at a higher price. Different model designations, which makes any kind of pre-purchase comparison difficult. Of course the store has the best price; they are the only one that sells that particular widget.
