Printers go on the blink at the wrong time for the wrong reasons. So, this note was the first in more than a decade that was attached to an email. For the past two weeks nothing has been sent as I twiddled my thumbs hoping to make the sorry device come back to life. But by this time next week, I’ll have a new ink-jet something-or-other that will spit out paper versions the kids are used to and I can get on supporting the U.S. Postal Service by buying stamps.
September 16, 2013
Ellen/Reid: This printer snafu thing caused the blip in letters. First time in years and years that nothing had been sent. But we’ll get back into the swing of things soon enough. Of course, I noticed that you guys didn’t notice. Probably not altogether a bad break for you (or me).
Reid, when you get time, fill your old man in on the happenings in the new job. You must be up to your eyeballs but there could a lot worse fates out there. You could live in North Carolina. (That’s a joke, but not far off. The ‘big’ job gains here are in the hospitality industry.) I’ve got to figure out a time to get to Chicago, but right now that looks like sometime in ’14 at the earliest. You and Tim need to conspire on whether you want to go fishing in Hilton Head. Ran into some guy in Beaufort, SC a couple weeks ago who looked like a fisher-type, and I asked him how things might be at that time of year. He said it all was dependent on water temperature, and my guess is that Tim will be our final expert on that. If he says ‘go’ I will find some sort of outfitter, but hopefully not like the Curly-Moe-Larry crew we had at Oak Island. What a disaster that was. We would have been better off eating tuna out of a can. A 6 oz. can would’ve weighed more than we caught.
We had a clean, good weather ride to Tybee Island, GA. It’s really a smaller version of a lot of the beach towns up and down the Carolinas. It is a straight shot not too many miles east of Savannah. This is where Jimmy Buffet music still lives and drunk people still dance in flip flops to a single acoustic guitarist at seedy bars where ‘good food’ means whatever it is they are hawking is breaded and deep fried beyond recognition. But it was still fun and a few cold beers are a good way to end the week. The old Softail is fixing to go over 50,000 miles in a couple of more rides.
Had some bout with an infection this weekend, but wasn’t fully aware of it until Saturday night. (Maybe that’s why my golf during Saturday’s daylight hours was so rank. At least it’s a plausible excuse.) Got some antibiotics on it and hopefully that will bring things under control. Luckily, my urologist was on duty Saturday night so we were able to talk one-to-one.
I’ve kind of tabled the litter blog for a bit until I get my arms around the concept a little better. I still like the overall approach but it needs to be tweaked a fair amount. Maybe I’ll garner a little bit of inspiration this weekend up in Kohler, WI when I see Bob and Dave and Dave. Bob is a big supporter of the blog and he knows I’ve hit something of a speed bump with it. Lord knows we’ll have enough time to talk about it while we’re golfing and having dinner/cocktails at night. They pick me up in Milwaukee Wednesday afternoon and it’s a fairly short jaunt up to Kohler from there. We’re playing the top-shelf courses there; Whistling Straits, Blackwolf Run, The Meadows, etc. I’ll be completely golfed out when this is all over.
But Ellen, before you know it, gramps and Emma will be cheering you and Mr. T on in the half marathon. She’ll be sipping juice and gramps will be gulping coffee while you guys slave away. You both could run one right now with almost no exertion. You guys stay pretty fit as a general rule. Chasing Emma around probably contributes to that. If you can run seven miles in a workout, you can run 13.1 in a heartbeat. No problem-o. I’m just glad it’s the two of you. It’s the right age to do it. Reid, you ought to get off your can sometime and try one, too.