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Showing posts from January, 2014

Stay in your lane

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I was roller skating on my local rail trail recently and coming up to an intersection, so I was slaloming slightly (barely more than C-cuts) to slow down. Someone on a bike came up behind me and said, "On your left!" Alerting people that you're passing is customary and courteous, though I don't know if there are signs suggesting we do that on this trail, like there are on the trails where I skate in Florida. There are also no alligators or exotic birds on my local trail. I was startled and swerved back towards the far right. "Thank you," I answered with a little wave. As the guy passed, he tossed over his shoulder, "Stay in your lane!" My initial reaction was WTF, dude!? You @$$ 4073! However, I said nothing. First of all, are there lanes on the trail? No. The picture above is the actual trail, and that person on the bike is the actual guy. Is he in a lane? No, he's right in the middle of the trail. ( Hypocrite! ) Furthermore, a g...
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I don't know why anyone under 40 would even put two spaces after a period. That is something we all learned to do in typing. No one takes typing anymore. I think it's called keyboarding. And I certainly hope that your computer teacher is explaining that the software knows how much space to leave after a period depending on what font you're using. Really, this probably bothers designers far more than it bothers me. UPDATE 2/2/14: I entered a conversation about this on Facebook during the weekend. And exited very quickly.  I did not feel like debating the fact with strangers that it is, in fact, incorrect, to put two spaces after a period (unless you are on a typewriter, which nobody is.) "Either is correct," "When did this change," "I'm a two-spacer and proud." UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I think arguing about it is what would give me the ulcer, so I didn't.

Pajama Night

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I sat down on the edge of my oldest’s bed. He had fallen asleep in front of a movie in his room, the theme song snippet playing in an endless loop. It was 6:30 p.m. on a Friday evening and he’d had the afternoon off from basketball practice after having games the previous two days. He’d gone in early for extra help, taken a math exam, recited the Gettysburg Address by memory, and who knows what else that day at school. I touched his shoulder and he sat bolt upright, yet still in a fog, dispelling any question I had about whether he was pretending to be asleep. “Oh, I’m so sorry hon – I didn’t mean to scare you!” “Wha— ” “Well, I just wanted to know if you wanted to go to Chess Club.” Blank look. “It’s in an hour.” “Uhmmmm…” “Never mind. Go back to sleep. I don’t think tonight counts in the standings anyway, right?” “Uhmmmm…” he lay back down on his bed and I covered him up. I went back upstairs to talk to my youngest. Tap tap tap . I nudged him. He had headphones on with his iPod, whic...