Threading a needle
Almost had a wardrobe malfunction today. That’s where a button threatens to seek out new surroundings, without prior notice. In this case, I became aware of the lengthening cord between the button and me, and was able to intervene with a skill learned before I could ride a bike. After all, my time in the Scouting movement taught me enough basic tailorship to thread a needle, anchor my effort and lap until done. That’s enough to get me through the crises of existence in a world of wear.
And I wonder if my kids are able to do the same. Or my co-workers (the younger ones). Do they sew on a button, or head for the shops to update the wardrobe? Time for a survey.
The singing astronaut is on his way home, as I write. His performance of Space Oddity has gone viral, and should the job market for “fly into the air and take pictures” dry up, he can go on tour as the Orbital Voice. There’s rumour of a full album of tunes (guess he had some time to kill, while circling for a landing). In any case, the trick with the floating guitar will keep the crowd interested, should he figure out the necessary rigging back here on Earth.
I’ve started a third course from Coursera, this time on the history of rock. Not rocks. Music is not equal to geology. With two courses underway, simultaneously, I’m going to have to watch my clock, or there will be assignments that don’t get there on time. Not in my master plan.
It was snowing, this morning.
