Going Away

I'm off to St. Simons Island on Sunday to have some vacation time with my family. Heading back to the ATL on Wednesday, just in time for the another big family invasion (PDM's brothers + mom) of our home for Turkey Day. About a dozen people here overnight at the peak of all this. Stressing about it just a little bit. Which explains the five-day migraine I had this week. We'll deep clean the house and try to get everything ready on Saturday and hope that it doesn't get too dirty again by Wednesday, when I get here and most everyone else does, too. At the tail end of Thanksgiving weekend we have our big rivalry game after a full day of tailgating. Lots of stuff going on.

I'll probably be off the grid while on the island, and very busy when I get back. If I don't get another chance to say so - have a happy Thanksgiving! And To Hell With Georgia! (It's never too early to get your hate on.)

Guard Cat

I stayed home sick today. Silvio is guarding the door.

A-A-A-Aaaa-chooooooo!

I'm sure y'all already know this, but working when you're sick really sucks. I would love to be back home in bed with a cat or two. I'm settling for a big bowl of cheese grits and bacon at my desk with a mug of hot tea. When I blow my nose (about every three minutes or so), I feel lightheaded. Trippy...

Big, Brass ...

... BALLS.

It is 4th-and-1 in overtime and the other team has already kicked a field goal. The safe choice would be to kick and tie it up again. If you go for it and don't get a first down, it is game over -- you lose. Most coaches would kick. But our coach plays to win. After the game, he said "If we can't get half a yard, then we probably didn't deserve to win." Huge gamble. Very ballsy. Our guys came through just fine. Got the first down, and one play later we were in the end zone with the winning touchdown.

For the record, if the Georgia game is anything like this, my head will explode.

The game had an exciting start to set the stage for the big finish. A pair of F-18 fighter jets buzzed the stadium after the National Anthem was played. They were lower than any flyover that I've ever seen. Very cool. Take a look:

"Slogged through, Aug '90"

I like used books. There is nothing wrong with buying new books, and I do this from time to time, but I also like to wander through the second hand bookshops to search for hidden treasure. Like the time I happened upon a no nonsense ultrasound study guide just as I had started studying for my board exam and needed to refresh my memory. It turned out to be an excellent resource, and was a bargain at 50 cents. It was marked down from $1 because the cover was ripped. Found it at the Rancho Coastal Thrift Shop in Cardiff-by-the-Sea, California. How random is that? Out of curiosity, I looked it up online. Out of print and difficult to find, the only copy I could locate was priced at around $60.

New books are pretty, but sterile. No dog-eared corners or torn covers. No broken spines or yellowed pages. No bookshop stamps or annotations. Some used books have the previous owner's name written inside the cover, or a library stamp, or maybe something that the used book shop put there. If you're lucky there might be something more. I enjoy those random snippets that people sometimes scribe there. It might be where they got the book, or when, or who gave it to them. Maybe an opinion about the contents, or a verse of poetry. You never know what you'll find in a book that has been around and changed hands. Like this -- I am reading The Fall of Hyperion for the second time since it was purchased from a used bookstore years ago. A Mr. H. M. Moore, Jr. left a note on the inside cover:

Slogged through
Aug '90

Nickeled and Dimed

I'm in Chicago on a business trip. Had to pay $15 to check my suitcase on the flight. The very expensive hotel I'm in charges for wireless internet access. Cheaper hotels usually give you wireless for free, along with breakfast. (Right now, I am using the free wi-fi at the convention hall.) I skipped the expensive breakfast at the expensive hotel and grabbed some tea and banana bread from Starbucks. My 16 ounce hot tea costs more than a 12 ounce tea, but they both only use only one tea bag. The vending machines for Chicago's rail system do not accept credit cards, and they don't give back change. I will have to hunt around for correct change next time. You also don't get a receipt, which will complicate my expense reporting. My employer wants proof of every little thing to a ridiculous degree, so I guess I will try taping the used transit card to my paperwork and see if that satisfies the corporate overlords. If nothing else, now I can say I've ridden the 'L'.

Singing Pumpkins, Flying Cats

Hope your Halloween is less soggy than ours. I feel sorry for the kids slogging around in the rain tonight. The wet weather won't bother us -- we'll be inside watching football. Go Jackets!