. Ham on Wry .
. . .
. . . . .

Things were so much better two weeks ago

A great headline that I didn't really read, on washingtonpost.com... Found in America's Pants. I'm not sure where my brain came up with that, since the actual link, to the cover story in the Sunday magazine, was Found in America. It was a story about a family and its cross-country road trip, rife with Boomer nostalgia for the Way Things Used to Be.

Whatever. You know, to me, Washington in 1990 seemed a little bit sleepy, back when liveable houses could still be had for less than $200,000. Boomers don't corner the market on nostalgia, but sometimes it seems like they do.

Back to my original comment, I wonder what you'd find in America's pants? It used to be that one could find change from a $20 in almost every pair of pants I owned. That is no longer true; the fortune in my pants has been exhausted.

Another disturbing note, in it's regular spam-letter, Handspring featured a letter from a second grader to the principle of his school protesting a ban on electronic devices. He detailed the way he used his Visor for school purposes. Now, I think a PDA would be useful for a student, but in second grade? That seems... I don't know. How is anybody ever going to learn penmanship?

If I could go back and take a remedial class, I'd take penmanship. Mine blows.

Life is all right around here. I'm very slow answering my e-mail. (Seriously, I have things to answer as far back as October of last year.) Otherwise, I'm managing. My latest project is refinishing a dresser. I'm stripping the ugly varnish, then I'm going to put a matte white stain on the wood; assuming I'm right about the color of the wood, I'll replace the drawer handles with some crackled white ceramic ones I found at Restoration Hardware.

I hope to finish putting the varnish remover on tonight. With any luck, I can finish the project by the weekend. Well, we'll see.

Looks like it's going to rain, and rain hard in about two seconds. Never mind, it's raining now.

2001-08-13, Afternoon comments (0)

before - after

.
. .
.