Would have loved to play hoops this morning, but another huge storm rumbled across the region, leaving us naught but the hope the drought will soon be abating. Already Tessa and I have stopped flushing the toilet very often (to occasionally disastrous results) and we drink bottled seltzer water. Although I’m not half the enviro-nazi I was back in the early-’90s Susan Comfort days, I think we do a pretty good job of being responsible. If you don’t count the Land Rover getting four miles per gallon, that is. Christ, for the amount of gas that thing guzzles, we should have a soft-serve ice cream dispenser in there.
Colin trekked from his suite in Central Park to see us this morning, full of more stories about the party we apparently left too early to see Heather Graham, which would have been interesting. I kinda think she’s the Big Lie, but it can’t hurt to do some sociological research.
One of my grails was grasped this evening as I finally got our phone system up and running: three lines, two of them with DSL (don’t ask) and one as a “rollover” line, since Tessa has some deep-seated issues with Call Waiting. Personally, I think Call Waiting joins ATMs, VCRs and answering machines atop the list of Great Stuff that Wasn’t Around When I Was a Kid. Go ahead and add cell phones and the internet to that list too, while you’re at it.
Shit, what did people do back then, just sit around and drink??
The Celextant, April 28, 2002
I am feeling this drug barring and gently locking the basement door to the worst parts of my depression. It just won’t let you go down there, and better yet, it casually suggests, in an offhand sort of way, that you stop thinking about it.