As I have no chance of winning any of them, I just watch intently with the utmost interest, Frank.
Actually, sir, chris_'s job and my job are two different things.
chris_ is the
deus ex machina, the god behind the machine, the one who makes things work.
I couldn't do chris_'s job even with a revolver jammed against my temple; no way.
I'm the ballyhoo artist, the P. T. Barnum, the brash publicist, the carnival barker who entices the public in to see the freak show.
chris_ could probably do my job, no problem, but then who'd be the one here to take care of the technology?