Just checked the FedEx site and my computer is on the truck. Now if the truck doesn’t get washed away in the storm that seems to be moving in, I should have it today. Then I should be able to Xangafy without going downstairs to the Q-cave and using her computer, or sneaking a Xanga fix at work, like I am now.
This weekend I played golf for the first time in about forty years. I broke 100…on almost every hole.
I was playing with Mountain Man and his wife, they are patient and forgiving, and he has three five gallon buckets of balls that he’s found, so it really didn’t matter that I failed to clear any of the water hazzards. I am however not about to join the Republican Party. But I might get some plaid pants.
We saw a nasty front coming in on about the 14th hole so we raced back to the clubhouse. We got to the car in just as the torrential downpour started, I was fumbling with some equipment or clothing for about 30 seconds before I got in the car and got fairly wet. So there we sat in the car, it’s raining about as hard as it can rain and the cart is parked behind the car. At first we decided to wait til it eased up before putting the cart away and then Mrs. Mountain, We’ll call her Collette, because that’s her name, said she was going to move the cart and we should drive over to pick her after she parked it. Well I couldn’t let her do that, since they had been nice enough to take me along, so I jumped out of the car and into the cart and drove it back to where it belonged. It was amazing, the rain was almost horizontal, with huge drops densly packed. I felt like I was on the deck of the HMS surprise in a typhoon of the coast of Chile. I was completely soaked, and I wasn’t out there for more than two minutes.
On Saturday I dragged my ’63 Fender Mustang out of the basement and cleaned it up, removed the homemade decal from the body without messing up the finish, restrung it and made it pretty and playable. I even replaced a tension spring on one of the saddles that holds the strings in place at the bridge, pretty amazing for someone as unhandy as me. And cleaned thirty years worth of finger skin of the fretboard. I’d forgotten how good that old piece of plywood sounds, even if (or because) it has ancient technology and design.