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You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it. Robin Williams

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Location: Kentucky, United States

Friday, March 14, 2003

Still hazy after all these years

Everyone still sick here. Bev missed three days of work. I missed today. If you could sell mucus by the quart then... well, you probably don't want to know too much about that.

I did get feeling better enough to put in some computer time. Trying to set up net-banking, e-billing, car maintenance online, etc. All real good legit reasons to get broadband! That's what the boys and I keep telling Bev anyway. This 40k dial-up is beginning to affect my well being. People ask me something and I stare blankly at them for five, six minutes before I can give a response. And asking me to understand something new, well, that can take all day!

As you might have seen from some of the pictures I've posted at times, we live in a very beautiful country setting. We routinely have a herd of white-tail deer who eat in our backyard just a few feet from the house. Fox, owls, vultures, a possum on the front porch last night, all around us are sights that people in Manhattan would pay big money to visit. We would trade it all for DSL with a good ping rate.

When I was a kid, I lived in town. My Grandfather had a couple acres of garden next to a railroad track. I would spend huge hunks of my free time on the tracks. I learned to run the ties and on the rail, jumping back and forth between the tracks. I could tell in an almost subliminal way what the speed of the train was just by the sound. If I felt the right pitch I would drop whatever I was doing and sprint to the tracks to catch a slow moving train and ride a half a mile or so before it got too fast to jump off of. All along the tracks were little trails leading off to "secret" hideouts in the trees. I would bring my air rifle and set up bottles on the tracks, then chip away trying to see how slowly I could take the bottles apart. Try to shoot a bb in such a way that it would spin around on the inside of the jar, so I could use that bb again. There was this special huge old tree that had a three branch crutch right near the top that made almost a lounge chair, and you could see for what felt like miles. I would sit and read in the afternoon, heavy things, philosophy and poetry, and every thought would make me look up, to watch the clouds pass for hours at a time.

I would have killed to grow up in a place like where I live now, but I can't get my boys to go outside. They would kill for DSL. Maybe it is running in a larger neighborhood than I ever had, bigger, more sweeping ideas to be had than just Descartes or Whitman,but it is just virtual and I worry about them not being able to mull "placid and self-contained" while watching a mountain of cumulous do its slow ponderous dance on the breeze.

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