The copy isn’t enough
Butter and margarine are not the same. Real coffee and dust from a jar; not the same. Spag and ‘burger-helper (that one from the food critics here in the house). It’s hard to accept a pale substitute. Be it food, or music.
Watched an ad-story on the local news broadcast this evening, vaunting the virtues of an upcoming concert. The dude had a guitar, and he knew the words, but he was NOT a substitute for Harmonium. Sorry, but I’m not going to pay to put my butt in a chair and listen to a cover band. No matter how virtuous the performer. He mentioned that he checked with the audience to see if there were any youth present, assuming that they had inherited good musical taste from the gene pool. Insufficient. I’ll stay at home, with my headphones and my vinyl.
We finally received the fifty computer bags, this afternoon. Too late. The schools are closed for the next ten days. All those waiting for the fruits of my labour will have to practice patience. But you are going to be so pleased with your new machines. I picture you dragging them everywhere, in keeping with the teaching of that woman in the Telus commercials that so strokes my fur the wrong way. Everywhere.
Checked in with a friend to see how the new ‘retired’ status is going. You know, to see if he intends to return it under warranty, now that 90 days have gone by. The short answer was “Not a chance!”
