I just got a new laptop from work. This is a joyous, joyous day.
My old laptop was five years old, which is 127 in laptop years, and my 2002 vintage RAM had gotten very tired. To be brutally honest, it had lost some of its mental capacity.
Sometimes I would try and load a Web site and the hard drive would spin and spin and the laptop would shake and I’d stare at the green bar at the bottom right, never quite filling all the way up, and a bird would chirp outside the window and I’d look out . . .
A couple of weeks ago certain planets aligned and I went to two, count them, two concerts, Regina Spektor and Spoon. This is high living for me, since that comes to about 17% of the concerts I have attended in my life so far.
They were both amazing shows. But the venues were like apples and oranges, (literally) like downtowns and suburban malls. Specifically, like First Avenue and Myth the Nightclub. Going with the food simile again, more like apples (if you like apples) and something bad; let’s say spoiled milk.
Regina Spektor played at Myth, in Maplewood (a suburb . . .
Try to keep two balls in the air. Moving the mouse both tilts the inclined plane at the bottom, and moves the Pong-style “paddle” at the top. Keep the bottom ball from rolling off the plane, and the top ball from passing your paddle, as long as you can. My all-time record score is 33 seconds. That’s not really impressive, . . .
I was in Salt Lake City for my job thingy. I expected craziness. I expected Mormons proselytizing me at every corner. I expected to have to buy a club membership to get a drink. But it hasn’t happened that way; so far, you get a drink just like anywhere else. And the locals I met have been pleasant and polite.
I wasn’t expecting new modes and methods of crossing the street. Who knew?
First off, Salt Lake City’s Walk/Don’t Walk electronic signs at crosswalks (you know, the white walking man and the red hand) are supplemented with bird chirps and . . .
If you’re looking to impress your Three-Buck Chuck-swilling friends with your class at the next party, I’d recommend the Loon as definitely worth the extra bucks. It’s a dark, opaque purple, concentrated drinking experience, an intriguing, well-balanced blend of potent flavors that can stand up against the spiciest food or the most charbroiled piece of carbon to come off the barbecue. (Well, maybe not Indian hot, but pretty hot). My dad recommended this wine, and it confirms my opinion of him as a highly intelligent man with . . .