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| SemiDaily ∞ Tuesday, August 22, 2006 |
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 I have the usual mountain of stuff to work on, but wanted to take a minute to put down a couple things.
Yesterday I drove by Walgreens and they had a bizarre message on their sign. Or so I initially thought.
INKJET REFILLS NOWHERE
I sat in the car waiting for the light to change and I just kept wondering what kind of philosophical / political / environmental statement was not coming through to me. It took longer than it should have for me to realize that the spacing was just not right, and this is perhaps another version of the glass being half-full or just needing topped off... And, as it turns out, all is well — especially if you have an inkjet printer that's running low and you live anywhere near Walgreens, because INKJET REFILLS are NOW HERE.
The other day I was on hold for one thing or another. The interminable outgoing message I had to endure repeated at certain intervals, so it was a couple times I heard, "If you would like our mailing address, you can write to us at..." I had a thought of writing a letter to that address, asking them to let me know their mailing address.
This morning Desmond and I walked the almost-a-mile to school. (No, it wasn't uphill, nor was there any snow. These kids don't know how good they got it.) He talked the whole time, and he was concerned about one of the houses we passed. It was a duplex with six cars in the driveway. He could not understand why anyone would have that many cars. I couldn't explain to him that it was probably a bunch of Baker students, and that each might have their own car.
I need to try to round up some of the gems he's come up with lately. He's got some great questions about life. The kind that only cross your mind when you're a kid and you might have that innocent hope that the world might be perfect, and the unending energy to make it so. I'll see what I can do.
I'm in my basement office now listening to XM radio. The station I listen to most — Fred — has a DJ who dishes some inside info on a lot of the bands. He's always pointing out URLs to find out more info. This morning he was talking about one band's info on MySpace.com. I wasted the time to look, and, of course, I "have to be a member to do that!" (That's really what it says.) So I joined up with my jesuseverythingistaken@yahoo.com throw-away email account. But, wouldn't you know, some other idiot Andy Norris already has the andynorris MySpace.com URL. Great. (For the record – I am not the "Andy Norris" at www.andynorris.com nor am I the "Andy Norris" at myspace.com/andynorris.)
So, long story no shorter, I peruse some insipid myspace effluvia and click on one of the "friends" of the band. They have, in their pictures, a picture of their car. I was going to leave a comment about it... not really constructive, but, whatever. When I clicked the button to leave a comment, though, the page said, You must be someone's friend to make comments about them. When has that ever stopped conversation about anyone? The world would be pretty quiet if that were the case.
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