TubaOrNotTuba

I’m just back from the hunting grounds. That’s where parents go, at the beginning of each new school year, to try to complete the treasure hunt designed by sadistic educators. Around and around the aisles, dodging others with exactly the same mindset, constantly scanning the edges of counters where the article you need may have been carelessly abandoned by another. All this, to assure that Johnny Who Can’t Read will be able to write, on a wide range of paper types with an even wider range of marking tools. Blood from the parent, included.

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Anyone who uses a tool wishes they had something that is of better quality. The musician, who wants a new horn/bow/didjeridu. The carpenter, who lusts after one of those Japanese handsaws that are on display at Lee Valley. The writer, wanting a sharper penknife to cut a finer quill (it could happen). The computer geek that wants a “better mouse”. Let’s accept that classier tools make happier craftsmen.

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With the proof that a long weekend is at hand (gas just jumped to $1.37/litre) I’m moving one step closer to trading in my first real laptop for another. Son #2 is ready, and I purchased a new mouse, so that the transfer would be useful. Poor Dell One has a touchpad button that is stubbornly stiff, in spite of tabletop surgery, a lot of compressed air and wishful thinking.

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My contact with Dell support today left me bewildered. Here is a company that understands the online model of sales. Great techniques to convince a potential buyer that their model really does exist. Fast, free shipping. Quality product. And then, the bump in the road.

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Some people are unable to avoid being noticed. Take our mayor, with a guitar (please!). Last weekend, the police in a small town north of Montreal wondered why one of the local fire trucks was “wandering” around town, with the siren and power lights on, when they’d heard nothing over the radio. They gave chase (at low speed), and when the big red tanker was finally immobilized, the driver jumped out (hurting himself from the fall) and then ran away with the forces of law and order in pursuit. I didn’t see it, I didn’t hear it, but I can imagine the scene. (Taken from a CP story).

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Since it’s quiet where you are, and you have a few minutes to take care of things that otherwise might not get done, might I suggest taking out your wallet. No, I don’t need anything from you; this is more a wakeup call. If you lost your wallet tomorrow, would there be enough data inside for someone else to cause you great financial worry, or perhaps a small crisis in your identity? Are you sure.

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This afternoon, after making THE arrangement for the next place we will live, we headed over to the shops to see what might have been invented in the world of technology since the start of the summer. Not much. However, the enticement of an extra 10% removed from any purchase at one store, because we muddle in the world of education, was too good to let slip away.

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We had heard the rumour that a new restaurant was open in Souris, and with the help of a mimeographed map from the tourist bureau, we made our way to the doorstep of La Belle Cloche. International cuisine in a town that used to be the delivery point for spices; everything comes around.

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In a world where criminals are constantly “looking out” for other people’s money, security is the foundation of life on the Internet. How often are we told to protect our identity? To keep our passwords complex and hidden from others? To watch out for anything that seems “not right”? After all, if you leave your valuables in plain view, someone else will be the richer for your error.

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This house is paid for, time to start dreaming of something bigger. Tonight, somewhere in the “Oil Patch”, someone has realized that their house just isn’t fancy enough to reflect all that money coming in. But, seriously, how do you decide that you need this property? From the report on CBC, the mortgage alone might be enough to “make you want to kill yourself”.

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