To err is human, but to really foul things up requires a computer.
It was a short night last night. I spent most of it getting my computer back in operation. For a day or two it looked like I had some software running amuck so I decided to do a full restore from a backup I made two weeks ago. Apparently the backup file was corrupted since it wiped out my primary hard drive which I had to reformat. So I spent hours loading my original operating system, updating to current levels and installing my back-up software. Then I loaded a save from a few months ago. Fortunately I had just downloaded to my Palm Pilot so I was able to restore all current appointments and address book entries. Unfortunately I have folders that are not current, two months of missing files and who knows what else.
But it could be worse, I might have lost it all. Fortunately my stumbling restoration accompanied by the appropriate technical swearwords got me back in action. And am I glad that I had installed a couple of external drives for back up since otherwise I might have had a cardiac event. For those of you who are on my Global Affairs, Senior Tips, and/or Travel Tips mailing lists I apologize for the lack of recent distribution. They should be back by the weekend.
But all was not bad today, I had an amazing experience. An airport security person noticed that my driver’s license would expire in a few weeks so today I took the dreaded trip to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles branch for the agonizing renewal ritual. Based on past experience I knew I would be there for hours paying a terrible price for the emotionally draining sleepless computer event of last night followed by hours at the branch. But it did not happen for wonder of wonders; I was there for less than 10 minutes. Twice today I have gone back to my wallet to look to make sure I had a new license and that I had not dreamed it all and sure enough it is new. It was a miracle and if Indiana can do that we should be able to do anything.
“If it is a Miracle, any sort of evidence will answer, but if it is a Fact, proof is necessary”
I wish to complain – the instructions on your deodorant were very misleading. I followed your instructions on a stick of deodorant to the letter: ‘Take Off Top, Push Up Bottom’, and was left semi-naked in some not inconsiderable pain. And it didn’t help my perspiring.
Now I understand my error, but it’s time that the writers of these instructions take responsibility for the resulting actions. The slogan on the front ‘Sure Wont Let You Down’, was correct, I was unable to sit down all morning.
If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?
To Whom it May Concern:
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult. I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year old again.
I want to go to McDonald’s and think that it’s a four star restaurant. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make ripples with rocks. I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them. I want to play dodgeball at recess and paint with watercolors in art. I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer’s day.
I want to return to a time when life was simple. When all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn’t bother you, because you didn’t know what you didn’t know and you didn’t care. All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.
I want to think the world is fair. That everyone is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible. Somewhere in our youth, we matured and learned too much. There are nuclear weapons, war, prejudice, and abused children. Lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain, and death. A world where companies poison our water and our soil, and children kill.
What happened to the time when we thought that everyone would live forever, because we didn’t grasp the concept of death? When the worst thing in the world was if someone took the jump rope from you or picked you last for kickball. I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.
I want to return to the days when children played hide-n-seek outside instead of being glued to a television, when video games were as harmless as Pac-Man…instead of spine-ripping, blood-splattering mind numbers like Mortal Combat, and TV still had some shows on that weren’t about sex, killing, and lies.
I remember being naive and thinking everyone was happy because I was. Afternoons were spent climbing trees and fences and riding my bike. I never worried about time, bills, or where I was going to find the money to fix my car. I used to wonder what I was going to do or be when I grew up, not worry about what I’ll do if this doesn’t work out. I want to live simple again.
I don’t want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones. I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.
So…. here’s my checkbook and my car-keys, my credit card bills and my 401K statements. I am officially resigning from adulthood. And if you want to discuss this further, you’ll have to catch me first, ’cause. .
"Tag! You’re it."
To accept ourselves as we are means to value our imperfections as much as our perfections.
She said: I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I’ve tried online dating. I haven’t met anyone in person yet because the guys always stop writing before we can set up a date. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps that handsome athletic thirty-two-year-old doctor was lying about his age, got grounded, and lost his internet privileges. Or maybe it was something I said, "I’d love to meet for coffee. Thursday’s are best for me. That’s when my neighbor picks up my four kids from my three previous marriages."
Don’t waste a $1,000 worth of emotion over a five cent triviality.
There was this blonde city-girl who was out driving and found herself in a rural area. She noted a farm animal standing next to a farmer and stopped the car to ask the farmer a question.
"Sir," she inquired, "Why doesn’t this cow have any horns?"
The farmer cocked his head for a moment, then began in a patient tone. "Well, ma’am, cattle can do a powerful lot of damage with horns. Sometimes we keep’em trimmed down with a hacksaw. Other times we can fix up the young ‘uns by puttin’ a couple drops of acid where their horns would grow in, and that stops ’em cold. Still, there are some breeds of cattle that never grow horns. But the reason this cow don’t have no horns, ma’am, is ’cause it’s a horse."
The best babysitters, of course, are the baby’s grandparents. You feel completely comfortable entrusting your baby to them for long periods, which is why most grandparents flee to Florida. Alex Haley
Last Sunday, the Gospel was the one about the ten bridesmaids. The five good bridesmaids remembered to take plenty of oil for their lamps; five bad bridesmaids did not.
The priest at our church is always very fiery and his sermons always end on a high note.
Last Sunday the priest ended with…
"Where would you rather be? In the light with the five good bridesmaids or in the dark with the five bad bridesmaids?"
I wasn’t the only one who got it wrong!
Shared joy is double joy; shared sorrow is half sorrow.
Stay well, do good work, and have fun.
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies.
The editor is somewhat senile.