Stare.
 
2004 Notebook: Weak XXXII
 
   
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7 August 2004
No. 3,614 (cartoon)
Everything looks so new!

You look so drunk.

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8 August 2004
High Notes
Scott took one look at my photograph of Louis Fleischauer performing at last night’s Aesthetic Meat Front show, then gave his appraisal.

“I suppose all those hooks in his back must make it easier for him to hit the high notes,” he opined.

9 August 2004
Wired and Wireless Wires
When Betty dropped by the lab this afternoon, I pointed out that every computer in my lab was now connected through a wireless network.

“So why’s all the old Ethernet cable still there?” Betty asked.

“Good question,” I replied. “We still use it for hanging wet laundry; can’t dry clothes on wireless wires.”

10 August 2004
Where Does Wax Come From?
There are candles everywhere. Where does all that wax come from? Only from bees? I wonder. I’m not wondering very hard, though; I’m really not interested in bees, wax, or candles.

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11 August 2004
American and Italian Toilet Paper
I discovered a roll of Italian toilet paper hidden in a pocket of my travel bag. I forgot that I’d packed it when I left Sorrento; I wanted to follow up on last year’s comparison between American and German toilet paper.

The American toilet paper was wider than both European counterparts. I suppose that makes engineering sense since Americans are generally wider than Europeans. The Italian toilet paper was somewhat smoother than the American equivalent, but both samples were very different from the rough texture of the German product. Again, this makes sense, since in my experience Italians are smoother than Germans.

Finally, I should note that my photograph of American and Italian toilet paper is somewhat misleading. Both papers are rolled around a cardboard tube; my Italian sample became distorted after being crushed in my luggage.

12 August 2004
Old and Not Old
For years, I’ve used my late father’s definition of old: someone who was fifteen years older than he was. It worked from the time when he was a twenty-year old sailor being ordered around by thirty-five year old incompetent officers until he complained about the eighty-five year old incompetent drivers.

I recently discovered an even better description when I read May Sarton’s remark, “I suppose old age begins when you look backward rather than forward.”

I suppose so too.

13 August 2004
Priceless or Worthless Burritos
One of the local burrito parlors now charges fifty-five cents more for a burrito that it did when we last visited. Some of my friends are complaining; I am not. After all, fifty-five cents isn’t much money these days. More to the point, I agree with a variation on Gertrude Stein’s position, “A work of art is either priceless or worthless.”

I’ve had both types of burritos, and I prefer the former.

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©2004 David Glenn Rinehart