I Hereby Order … Oh, Never Mind
I don’t want to be That Person, the one who complains about Southwest Asia call centers, but there were, ah, accent difficulties on both sides.
"The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter." —Mark Twain
What’s going on in my life
I don’t want to be That Person, the one who complains about Southwest Asia call centers, but there were, ah, accent difficulties on both sides.
Polly came home late last night and found a small tarantula at our front door. I took its photo because in spite of living in the Sonora Desert we don’t see them all that often. So if it’s all the same to you I’m taking this sighting as a good omen.
Southern Arizona has a monsoon season. It runs from mid-June to the end of September. This is when the 100-year rains come. We lived in Phoenix during the summer and fall of 1978 and had two of them back to back.
Well, it don’t get more personal than that. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. It certainly did me.
Commenting on the flood of appalling current events makes me feel dirty and cheap, as if even engaging with it brings me down to its level, and in any case, what do I have to say that others haven’t already?
Guys with guns. There’s your problem, America, right there.
I grew up as an Air Force brat in the 1950s and 60s, and one trend or theme you may have noticed with my Air-Minded posts is that I keep coming back to the jets of my childhood, plastic models of which hung from the ceiling of my bedroom.
I have an older but sharper memory of Grandfather Estes dragging me and my sister Sue outside one night to see something that had never seen before. It was October 1957, and the Russians had just launched Sputnik.