Mere seconds ago, the following events took place.
...(from the TV. Boxing on ESPN)...the winner, Daniel Cervantes!
Wife: Doesn't that mean 'beer'?
Me: No, that's 'cerveza.' Cervantes wrote Don Quixote. (Reaches for the computer...)
Wife: I'm not talking to you anymore.
Walking around the motorpool today, I happened upon a small snail walking (walking? Did I just type that? Think, then type...) rather sliding along in the middle of the road. He was the first snail I've seen in Germany, and not an unattractive snail, as far as snails go. I was about to continue on my way when it registered just where this misplaced escargot was gliding his way along. I can't convey exactly just how awful a fate awaited him were he to remain there too long, and let's face it, he was a snail; he wasn't going anywhere in any particular hurry. Granted, if you're a snail, it doesn't take much to put you in danger, but oozing your way around the motorpool is a good way to end up not just wounded, broken or dead, but rather really, really, really dead in a prolongedly-ground-into-the-concrete-by-a-trackpad kind of way. Remarkable though your shell may be, the Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle is 25 some-odd tons of hurt, my wayward gastropod, among other larger, uglier vehicles that do to cars and buildings what a squirrel on a toy bike could do to you.
So that's why I picked up a snail in the motorpool today. In case you saw and just thought I was wondering around lost in the motorpool.
The Wife just uttered the phrase: "That's a pretty neat store, that there Walmart."
Has it been two weeks already? It's probably almost daily that the Wife or I comments that we need to include some thought or observation in a blog. But, as you can see, we don't.
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I don't have a transition handy.
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I know there have been some great advances in computer imaging technology, but I keep seeing computer generated Cardinals processing into the Sistine Chapel, voting, and burning ballots. Should that really count as news? Even worse, I think they may be stealing the CG images; I had no idea Jar-Jar Binks was even catholic...
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Still no transition...
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German taste in music is really hard to pinpoint. One station may have music of many genres, eras, and national origins. There's a particular affinity for awful and obscure American 80's music. On the way home tonight, one such song came on the radio. This wasn't a song I've ever even heard or heard of. My mind was in the process of developing a small rant about the German taste for awful American music no American has ever heard. In the time it took for that thought to register and the synapses to engage my mouth and vocal chords, the Wife breaks out in song, and all I could manage to get out were a series of small, pathetic sobs as I debated exiting the moving vehicle...
Parsimonious.
I just bought a new pair of jeans for the first time since probably before I was taking upper-level undergrad courses. And I probably didn't buy those, either. In fact, I remember getting them for Christmas, and if I do the calculations based on the family rotation....well that's just really, really sad. My most recent pair has reached the point where I can put my hands in my pockets and scratch my knees if absolutely necessary. All my other pairs of jeans have fallen to the wayside since then, either to ink stains in the pockets, or actually wearing them out. Do you realize how hard it is to wear holes in jeans that you don't work in for a living?
So the question is: why would I drag my feet to such a degree over a $20 pair of jeans? Beats me. I'll bet the wife can tell you, though. As she keeps telling me, she knows everything.
