What the hell else is there to do?
Well, I think the penetration of the William Rivers Pitt the week of July 15 was a spectacle for about a dozen people, better than a television show or a movie or rock concert, and that observations and accounts of it are going to warm many a fireside during the bleak winter, and for years to come, from Maryland (the soil scientist) and upstate New York (the prairie archaeologist) to southern California (the old guy's daughter and her sons, his grandsons), and possibly even to India, if the Hindu professor ever goes back there to visit.
Wow Frank -- I get one PM a month, if that. If you are overlooking PMs in the clatter/chatter, you are a rich man indeed...
It wasn't really any "volume," just that it was a bad day.
If it's a bad day, I figure, oh, okay, I'll look at it later. No reflection, absolutely no reflection on the sender, because all messages are as if gold and diamonds to me, but sometimes one just has one of those days.
It was however a very good thing--thank God--that on Thursday-Friday of last week, I received a personal message from someone who's never sent me one before, and as it was a good day, I read it.
Excresence happens, and this is no reflection on our esteemed and valued colleague Mr. Wiggum, and I'm very sorry I didn't get back to him right away.
ps: Do you golf?
No; the only time in my life I've ever trod on a golf course was when I was in college, and some roommates
insisted I had to go along. I didn't swing any clubs or anything, I just went along. I lasted all 18 holes, but I was already drunk by the fifth hole.
This isn't the way I am now, but in my salad days when I was green in judgement, a shallow callow youth, this was my standard operating procedure when having to go along with other people to do things I didn't want to do; getting blitzed (although not really causing problems for other people; I was what one calls a "mellow drunk").
I used to do that on fishing trips too, but fortunately such invitations stopped coming not because I drank, but because others finally understood, hey, franksolich never learned how to swim.....
I would think a deaf person would be a great golfer.
Not really, because deafness also means a lack of balance, a lack of equilibrium, which is controlled by the inner ears of hearing people.
The sense of balance is purely intellectual, not instinctive.
The only time I ever shot a gun--an Italian pistol which professional firearms-owners consider "lousy," but it fitted my grip comfortably--hitting the target 26 out of 30 times--it demanded so much intense concentration on "balance" that I was, mentally, wiped out for a couple of days thereafter; the "I'm at here, but I'm not here" condition.
