Woodstock and Jack Benny
Woodstock and Jack Benny
Here it is May, and after months of distraction, I am typing a blog
post. There have been countless false starts, unfinished posts,
good ideas and some visuals all intended to show up here, but I've been
busy with other matters. There's work, for one thing. And
then there's Scrabulous on Facebook.
For the most part, Real Life has been getting in the way. And I
am one of those bloggers who just can't toss up a few links or some
innocuous littel tidbit just for the sake of posting something.
Pride in content undermines productivity in this case.
And yes, for those of you who are here reading this and actually recall
the immediately prior post, I have not yet recounted that long
and entertaining story. Honestly, it is very difficult to write
it up. I've told it aloud a few times. It was suggested
that maybe I should just make a podcast, and tell it that way.
For reasons too screwy to explain, I'll just have to forego the
telling of that story on the blog, at least for the moment.
Perhaps more on that later. Then again, perhaps not. We
shall see.
What is it, then, that prompts me to get back on board, composing a
blog post? To some degree it is the weather. Or the the
date. Spring is here. Yet it is cold, damp, dank, and the
heat came on in my office the past few days. The few days that
Mother Nature toyed with us, giving us sunshine and indications
of warmer weather served as just teases. And also opened up
the allergyfloodgates. People throughout the NY Metroplitan area
have been sneezing, couging, wheezing, itching, scratching and
suffering from all sorts of allergen-related disconmfort. Cars have
layers of pollen on them, as though a light green patina is part of the
paint job.
