Friday, December 28, 2007
Pookie and Son-in-Grace are on a Harley motorcycle somewhere in Big Sur, Stu is back at work, and Emily Blue and Third Child are out shopping for a replacement radio for his car.
It appears that some time in the night, the Anti-Santa and his orcs helped themselves to the original. They also relieved TC of his short-wave radio from his emergency "Go" bag, his iPod, and an uber-cool teeny Bluetooth headset from the glove compartment.
Oddly enough, they left behind the brand new hiking GPS we bought him for Christmas and a year-old Bluetooth headset. We're guessing they were more "urban opportunist" hooligans than your back country, "Rocky Mountain Man" outdoorsy types. This character assessment was further developed by our crime assessment/grief counseling crew over some sympathy dim-sum.
Fact: they had also left behind a low-end sleeping bag, a pair of almost new rock-climbing shoes, and an ultra-light portable cooking stove.
Fact: also rejected from the thieves jolly red sack of stolen goods was a fetching straw cowboy hat left over from this year's Halloween festivities.
Fact: they also passed on a really urban-hip-cool Navy pea coat, one of TC's favorite garments. (Hey, not all facts fall neatly into place in any crime scene. We're still trying to figure out the pea coat and second Bluetooth headset....)
As the heat of the violation began to subside (somewhere around the second sticky rice), TC mused that thieves really should be more polite. "If I were a thief, I'd at least take the time to leave the connector wires behind so the original owner could hook up a new radio without having to rip the dashboard apart. Also, I'd leave a little note thanking them for all their stuff, and a list of the most compatible replacement radios for that brand of car. Also, a nice note wishing the car owners a Happier New Year, perhaps with a P.S. reminding that it is better to give than to receive." If it were me, I'd even consider bring a dust-buster along to tidy up all the mess that ripping a radio out of a dashboard creates. Anyway, he was right. Thieves don't have be rude. They're just choosing to be rude."
I love my kids.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
It's comforting (and oddly up-puffing) that as odd a title as I chose for my own foray into Web 2.0 with my blog this year, at least they were all real English words, guaranteed to conjure recognizable physical realities in Anglo-oriented brains, pink, fluffy and otherwise. And I didn't succumb to the temptation to futz with them, either, even though I could have without losing the connection to real "you can stick your finger in this!" meaning. For example, I could have called this little rag, "Pink Fluffy iCing 4 Brainz" and been really iN WiTH THE hiP MARKETiNG CROWD. Or with just a little tweaking that would have emphasized the erudite literary content of the blog of my dreams, I could have opted for "p_Ink Fluffy" and just left y'all wondering...
Of course, in the wild and wacky world of Web 2.0, it's always good practice to google*, well, everything, but especially potential names for newly hatched web sites (and a blog is sort of that.) And what, you ask, lands at the top o' the list in a Google search for "pink fluffy"?
Pink Fluffy Corset Gallery and On-line Corset Shop: the worlds largest corset emporium. Now stocking latex!
It might have made for an interesting business opportunity as a pass-through portal to a classy burlesque troupe. But in the end (ha! sorry), it would have not been worth the risk. One can only imagine the untold hours I would have spent deleting spicy comments and crafting letters of explanation/apology to the children and in-laws.
Snigger as we might at the "Lypps" and "Utterzs"** and "Gaboogies" of the world. You can bet your bottom Bux.com they did their Google "what shall we call ourselves?" homework.
*When Oxford says "google" is the word (verb) of the year for 1998, and its somewhat shaggy cousin, Merriam Webster concurs, who are ANY of the 20 of us to quibble? Not me, that's for sure. (I actually did quibble once with someone on a different and unrelated topic but found it far too delicate an undertaking for my liking: no contact. I far prefer gently flicking my opponent on the forehead until they cede the point.)
**Not at all sure that would be the correct spelling of the plural "Utterz," but that edgy uncertainty is part of what makes being a linguaphile such an exciting and annoying to others experience.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
I've been saving this until today in the hopes it would get to you before you leave for Thailand, but not much sooner. My hope is that it lands at just that moment when your Christmas heart needs a touch of your Canadian back yard and some time with your Dad and Behn.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
A couple of months ago, I participated in a "Walk For Aids" fund raiser. I was pretty chuffed about the whole gig: new friends, a glorious walk along the Guadalope River Parkway, identification with efforts of "Beautiful Day," a groovy new T-shirt, and so on. I even won several prizes for having raised $635. (And that's before getting the corporate matching gifts process figured out. I'm still working on that. Who knew charity could be so confusing and time consuming. I really must be a New Millenium kinda chick: I find myself wanting my charity to be convenient, accessible online, and preferably with auto-populating form fields.) A BIG thanks to all who supported the cause.
Imagine my surprise when I received the following message about a week ago:
I am writing to inform you that the six pack cooler bag issued during the Walk for AIDS 2007 may contain lead. The cooler bag was one of the prizes given to walkers who raised $250 or more for this year’s Walk. Please contact our office at 408-451-WALK and we will gladly replace any of these bags with a reusable canvas shopping tote. If you choose to keep the cooler bag, I suggest that you not allow food to come in direct contact with the liner, and that you wash your hands after use of the bag. Please contact any person to whom you may have gifted the box, and inform them of this matter as well.
Who knew that successful participation in a philanthropic effort could be so potentially threatening to one's health?! Of course, the AIDS Coalition never intended harm (so NOT what they are about!) and did the right thing, right away. But the whole experience does cause me to pause. If a good-will gesture from a fund-raiser isn't safe from accidental threat, what about Christmas? Will I end up sending my own apologetic recall letters in mid-January to friends and family? And even if a gift doesn't pose a direct physical threat to the cherished recipient themselves, was the production of it harmful to someone else? A sweat shop worker in Vietnam, say? And even if it was made in domestic, well-lit, heated and union supervised conditions, what if the recipient already has one? Will they throw the old one out, thereby filling up the landfills even faster? If the gift has a plug of some kind, am I contributing to the Great Electricity Grab and ultimately to global warming? What if Al Gore shows up with a camera crew on my front porch on Christmas morning?! I know: I'll hit him with the new solar powered K-Tel Slice-O-Matic I've asked Santa for.
Maybe I'll just stick to buying carbon credits (online) and a poinsettia for everyone on my list. And don't worry about the dog eating the poinsettia: they aren't poisonous.