jr conlin's ink stained banana

i'll have you know that the past few weeks i've been writing posts for this very blog pretty regularly. It's just that every time, i'd read them and then never hit the publish button.

i have opinions i'd love to share, jokes i'd love to crack, and observations that might help people out, but i'm not going to share them because it wouldn't be a good idea.

Over the past few years, i've come to realize that while i write this blog for myself, i'm not the only person that reads it. There are some things best left unspoken into this particular microphone. There are far too many looking for ammo for their cause, and anything i might say (positive or negative) would simply provide them a steady supply.

i'm sure that some conspiracy nut is probably reading far more into this post right now than they have any rightful clue. Heck, i held off on one of my posts that had absolutely nothing to do with work, but because it dealt with one of the themes of this blog ("arm-chair corporate psychology" go check the meta tags), i knew some joker would twist it around and make it look like i was saying things i really wasn't.

One day, i hope to be able to share those observations, crack those jokes and bore you with my opinions. Today, nor any day in the foreseeable future, is not going to be that day.

So, my apologies if i'm a bit quiet here. It's just that sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all.

Well… crap.

No, not that kind of crap (thankfully), but… well… remember that amazingly lickable GPS i got, the one that has been pretty much inseparable from me since the day it first arrived at my doorstep? The insanely hackable* one that filled my mobile mind with visions of never, ever being lost in downtown Hartford again?

i dropped it.

i cracked the screen.

In several places.

Yes, i'm man enough to admit that i cried. when i realized that my shiny new friend was now looking up at me like a puppy i just backed over. Still, everything else on it worked just fine. i sure as heck wasn't about to send it to the recyclers although i did go and buy myself a replacement new friend that's a bit more upgraded*, but the nice thing is that apparently getting it repaired is not going to cost more than the price of the device. i'm still going to pay for my stupidity, but no where near as much as i was afraid i would have to.

That said, i'm now trying to figure out what sort of padded sleeve i can keep the bugger in once it's back in my loving hands (possibly in the "bad touch" sort of way, but we'll ignore that for now). Granted, something like this is a bit extreme, however, considering the sort of klutz i am i'm starting to think it might be a good investment. i've got a few fairly padded electronics envelopes, but most are either too big (since they're designed for large bits of electric kit) or by "padded" it means "slightly thicker than two ply" which i don't think will do much to halt gravity's less than tender caresses.

Hmm.. i probably ought to pick up a few of those sorts of cases to protect the various other bits of similar sized cruft i want to keep from getting destroyed by my deftly numb-le fingers. Well, that or i could just be more careful about making sure jacket pockets holding said pricey electronics are, you know, zipped closed.

That would be the smarter thing.

Still, any suggestions on small-ish rugged cases happily accepted.

* Ok, there's is one GPS that's even more insanely hackable, but it's not publicly available yet and it'll cost more. So until then, Garmin it is.
* i mean, yeah, there's a trip coming up in a few weeks and i'll need it. And yeah, maybe i'll need to go to Alaska or Canada sometime and i'll have the maps. Yeah, that's it.

i'm very happy that the folks that love conspiracies haven't caught on to the plan yet.

Wow! It's amazing what one can't do when one does't set one's mind to the task. Woke up late, grabbed a quick bite and skipped over to the barber for a quick seventy minute haircut.

Fresh from the chair i set out to not finish clearing out the office, not sanding down the sills,skipped putting down tarps, nor even picking out the paint. It was a rainy day so it would have really been the perfect day to do it and sure, i'm hardly tired nor sore and i would have been really happy to have made any progress.

Best of all, tomorrow is another day to try and get something done.

i probably won't, of course, but it's nice to kid myself.

On the drive home, i was listening to NPR interview someone who apparently farted fossils.

So maybe it was me being cranky, but during the the interview i heard (barely) was that after a life well lived, he wasn't a journalist.

Ok, let me be clear here. By a journalist i don't mean a news reporter, i mean one who keeps a daily journal of their events. He reported that he had tried keeping one, but it was boring so he stopped. Needless to say, there's a fair point to be made. Journalism has seen a spike lately. Granted, they're a lot more open and don't involve quite as much scrawling in a dusty tome as much as typing into a textbox, but sure enough, a helluva lot more folks are keeping journals.

And yeah, some of them are boring.

But a surprising number aren't.

Odd thing is, even though i try to post every day, and generally comment on events occurring in my life, i don't really consider myself a journalist either. i'm just a cranky monkey with a type writer, pretty much with the same behaviors cranky potentially incontinent monkeys take toward passers by.

So, are you a journalist?