Dropped

I dropped my MacBook Pro.

Actually, I didn't drop it on purpose or even by accident. It dropped all by itself.

I had the MBP in a carry bag with a shoulder strap. Suddenly, while I was just standing there minding my own business, the strap broke and the entire bag went crashing to the concrete at 32 feet per second per second.

Gravity.

Who knew?

It hit with a "crunch."

That didn't sound good, Claire said, did you have glass in there?

Uh, yeah, I had a camera and my MacBook Pro.

I put the bag in the back of the truck and drove off hoping the vibes in the back of the truck would heal any damage. Just to be on the safe side I drove through several known Energy Vortexes and a couple of Healing Pyramids just to be sure.

I got home, pulled the MBP out of the bag and surveyed the damage. There were no obvious dents, the screen was OK and the computer booted up just fine. The only thing I noticed was a slight warp to the lid.

Bummer.

Slight warp to the lid. No other damage.

In other words, the MBP is just fine. Works fine, looks fine and be fine. Fine.

Just fine.

So, there's an upgrade of the MBP just announced. Badder, faster processor. Bigger disc. Cool video card.

So, what if the dropping caused something invisible to happen. Something invisible that will be not invisible in, say, ten years. What then? Why risk it?

You know?

So, I'm thinking it's an Omen. Like, it's Fate or something that the MBP just broke away and crashed to the ground. Yeah, it's a sign.

Yep, a sign.

Ashtray is full, tires are worn, tank is empty. All signs.

Oh, did I mention the "E" key? It's shot.

You all know what that means.

Word of the Day

The Word of the Day is

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia

which means "fear of long words."

Yeah, I knew that.

Author-ish

So, what is this "Buy My Book" picture doing in the sidebar. You going all commercial on us, or what?

Well, here's the story.

Once upon a time, many years ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

I was a blog reader well before I started my own blog, although to be perfectly accurate, I had started several blogs only to have them die a death of neglect.

Then I stumbled upon Dooce. I was inspired by Dooce's prose, her openness and her ability to express personal feelings and observations in a way that really resonated with me. I began to read Dooce every day. At some point I sent Dooce a fawning e-mail along the lines of "Wow, Dooce, I mean, just, wow!" but not that eloquent and immediately regretted hitting the Send key. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

A few days later I received a reply of appreciation from Dooce herself thanking me for my note of support. By this time Dooce had won a Bloggie Award and shot into the stratosphere of Blogdom.

But, over the years we kept in contact and became friends. Last year Dooce asked me to be one of the contributing authors to a book she was compiling on the subject of "fatherhood."

I was flattered and terrified, simultaneously, but couldn't say no. My piece was accepted into the anthology and I'm proud to display a link to Amazon where you, too, can enjoy not only Dooce's writing but that of the many talented contributors who worked on this project.

So, shameless promotion! Buy Dooce's book! It's going to be a best seller.

Your Life

"I just finished Bill Bryson's book, The Thunderbolt Kid."

"How was it?"

"I was surprised, but it was a lot like you."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"How did I turn out?"

"Amusing. Mostly."

"Ah, pity that. I was shooting for Amusing Totally."