I feel as if I ought to be at wit’s end, what with Bump in two days, but aside from feeling that I’m coming down with a cold, I am remarkably phlegmatic. It has been suggested that maybe I’m getting used to it by now. This could be true.
Tonight there will be a short meeting of the Sailors. I’ll get home around 9, the point at which the ratings/strikes process comes to a halt. I’ll port the data over to TRPC and start working on the judges. Won’t be as big a deal as at Jake, which had more strikes and more teams and more judges. (O’C could use that as his slogan in the future: “But wait, there’s more.” Unfortunately that also applies to the number of award ceremonies.)
So I don’t have much to say today, but I will point out that I am thinking about an article Bietz wrote in the May Rostrum—I sigh wistfully as my Rostrum subscription runs itself out—and some comments on the MHL that came to us suggesting some possible improvements. I’ll detail these after Bump.
Since I have nothing to offer as I gird my loins for Bump, I will simply leave you with the knowledge that yesterday, while I was talking to O’C on the phone, a bird crapped on his head. He (O’C, not the bird) claimed that this was the first time this had ever happened to him. After I hung up (if that is what one can claim to do with a cell phone) I realized that he had also told me that he was calling from a train; I could even hear the ambient train sounds behind his voice. Which leads one to wonder what kind of birds they have out there on the Long Island Railroad.
The debate world can be very strange sometimes.
2 comments:
I was outside the train -- at the train station -- when I called you. Long Island birds don't commute. :o)
But really, it was the grossest experience ever.
Is there some horrible pun buried in there about sickness and phlegm and your current state of mind, or is it just an unfortunate coincidence?
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