“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” - 1 Corinthians 13:11 (KVJ) I’ve had a subscription to some sort of car magazine, blog, etc. since I was ten years old. I used to covet and read car magazines like more well-adjusted boys used to secret Playboy magazines. (November 1994 was a classic of that particular tome, but I digress.) ...
I’m scared I won’t be able to see when I’m 50. If I make it to 50. I’ve always had poor vision, especially in my right eye. My misshapen head grew disproportionately on the right side, so my eye sockets elongated….blah blah blah. I’m functionally blind without glasses. Have been since I was 8. I learned to deal with it. I wore glasses reliably through all of my school (including college) and finally got a set of Toric contact lenses when I was 21, and I was had actual peripheral vision until I dispensed with the contacts around age 32. They were just too much trouble. ...
It’s been a rough few weeks, almost entirely self-inflicted. As the Eastern KY saying goes: “Work is aggravating me to death.” Nothing about what I’m doing is hard; tedious and frustrating, sure, but not difficult. Basically, I fight whatever fires appear, and 90% of the time these are communications issues between teams, not technical problems. Corporations tend to self-select for people who can hide within bureaucracy, stifle their own opinions, and dumbly line-up behind meaningless mandates. That’s wearisome, to say the least. ...
One ride. Yep, one trip from the park entrance directly to The Beast killed our day. Me with a bruised ribcage, Whitney with debilitating feminine issues. Tip for those headed to PKI: Put your arms DOWN if you’re a big guy through the turns, I got racked back-and-forth between the 1st hill & the helix (after the braking run) and seriously couldn’t breathe for the rest of the ride. They’ve built the seat bolsters up so much that it’s just PAINFUL. ...
Curmudgeon: n. An ill-tempered person full of resentment and stubborn notions. I’m getting there. Whitney and I ate our pizza and swilled our Pepsi before the morass of cable TV before us, and VH1 ran a spot promoting DAVE MATHEWS BAND: Storytellers, premiering tonight at 11pm Me: “Good LORD! 11pm? Who’s going to be up on a weeknight watching THAT?!” Yup, how do you spell old fart? H-A-R-O-L-D. I’m a morning person. Yeah, that must be it. ...