It’s not that Juan, Kwan and the stoners are anywhere near finished, but Kwan, the carpenter, is near the end of the chez HQ phase of the operation. Which means that last night I moved in Little Elvis, the hard drive, the modem and more wires than you’d think necessary, and tonight I’ll follow up with the new printer (which is still in its box) and a few other bare essentials. And for the next couple of weeks I’ll be able to work in my new little corner of the chez, until the ruggers come by and install the new Tabriz (all right, it’s some wall-to-wall thingie more suitable to Sailors than your, dare I say, Persian carpet), at which point I’ll have to move out for a day or two, which is why I’m only installing the bare minimum of, roughly, 237 pieces of equipment. But soon—maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow but soon, and for the rest of your life—we’ll be moved in completely. I even plugged in the cable box last night, but it simply stared at me, told me to boot, then laughed mightily at any steps I might take to get it operational. But who cares? I’ve got so many wires behind the newly arranged TV with umpty-ump recorders of all stripes and polka dots, that I was able to watch House without benefit of box, and was fine with it. Take that, Cablevision!
I’ve sent O’C my Excel matrix for RRs, which he stared at apparently much as I stare at Juan, Kwan and the stoners, with mouth agape and ready to head for the hills at the first sign of danger. So I sent him another one modified for Vassar. Jeesh. Don’t these people learn math nowadays? That’s the problem with us practically perfect people: we keep expecting others to live up to our incredibly high standards, and they’re always falling short. Excel is the only vestige I have of all the algebra I used to ace in high school. I always thought that stuff would be totally unnecessary, but I can make Excel do tricks that would make you want to bury yourself in your mediocre math boards, you spalpeen!
Whatever happened to the spalpeen, anyhow? Gone to ground, I guess. Must have graduated. Hard to imagine, eh?
After much initial noodling with the bullpups, and my expectation that we had launched into a veritable Treaty of Versailles level discussion of what to do and how to do it, or put another way, after I sent them a miserably complicated set of questions that sort of left little to the imagination, they too have gone to ground. Maybe they’re looking for the spalpeen. Maybe he went to Yale. Na’ah. JG is at Yale; if there’s any spalpeens there, he’d have flushed them out on his first day. I’m still vacillating over Classic TRPC v. Live Dangerously TRPC, all depending on how separate the judge pools will be. I guess I’ll have it sorted out soon enough, given that two weeks from now it will all be over. I like it better dealing with O’C over BB. I hear from him, and vice versa, more regularly than Bush announces that he’s right about everything. Speaking of which, that might be the perfect paradigm for LD. All rounds have to be argued in such a way that GWB could understand them. Can you imagine? My guess is that he’d invade Emory, Glenbrooks and TOC in a three-pronged offensive before the first kritik was over. Can’t say as I’d blame him, either.
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