Finagling a football
When asked to check out something on a neighbouring iPad, I discovered that my fingers don’t have the magic ability to change from screen to screen. A “fail” grade on the personal device that is supposed to be “so easy, anyone can use one”. As a result, I have been threatened with no apple for Xmas (although oranges are still possible). Whew!
I took the time to dress warmly this morning, and no robin was seen. There is no common factor here.
I have a bone to pick with authors that write a series of books, and then drop a prequel into the mix. Throws the numbering to the wind. In a digital world, the files can be renamed. In a paper world, it requires sticking a new label onto the spine. The glue dries unevenly, and then the whole effort looks amateurish. Please, writers, get the sequence right, first time around. It’s your story; you know how it’s going to turn out beforehand. Don’t you? Now I’m disillusioned with the randomness of life and other things.
Wiki, today, mentioned that one company is the source for all the footballs used in pro sports. Does that mean that I can never have a “genuine” pigskin? Unless… I could go to a game, run onfield, make an amazing interception and outrun all the monsters. Nah. Too much work. Maybe I’ll write to the firm (www.horween.com) and beg for a sample, since I plan to launch my own pro football league. It could happen! Now to find an unused envelope and a stamp.
