Little Elvis and his new friend

Yeah, it's a nano. Cute little devil. I'm planning on making it my podcast machine. I set it up last night, although apparently not completely, because it tells me the time in Cupertino. I'm deciding still whether to link it to the Mac calendar and contacts and whatnot, those Little Elvis body parts I haven't explored yet (I just bought general manuals last weekend, thank you very much—I do miss having people who sell you expensive stuff giving you a hint on how to use it). But mostly it will talk to me. "Hello, Nano." "Hello, Jim."

I must be on a technology kick. I haven't had a chance to use the Mighty Mouse (I was too busy with little Nano) but I did install it this morning on my way out the door. I've also bought a new cell; I'll post the number on the home page as soon as I connect back to (aarrgghh) AOL on the (aarrgghh) PC. It didn't seem possible to port the old number over from the pay-as-you-go service it was in. Now I have a new pay-as-you-go service, but at least this phone isn't, well, too 90s. I can take pictures, email, play Snood and generally waste time and money like nobody's business. After three days I'll no doubt turn it off and go back to my usual cellular incog, but I harbor dreams of walking down the Via Veneto in my fancy shoes chatting with my cara mia about tonight's saltimbocca and bellinis, but then again, maybe I'm dreaming of someone else. Probably.

I sent out the first NFL District message last night. I am, in other words, chairman again. It wasn't exactly a news-filled document. I still wait for the axe to fall on our district. Or more aptly, for the glue to fall on our district and some other district. No news yet from Ripon on that.

Finally, I have had an update from the Nostrumite, who is in a state of permanent depression over his Assistant Principal hassling him about Wake. He wrote me last night: "The sun was shining, the grass was green, and he was on my case like dust on Melville." (The Mite and I disagree about Moby Dick, but that's neither here nor there.) But on the bright side, the lad has thrown over his team website to his actual team. "Let the little buggers do it themselves," he told me. I checked it out, and sure enough, the little buggers are doing it themselves. If you ask me, that's a recipe for disaster with a pinch of salt and a sprig of parsley and a soupcon of law suit, but you try talking to the Mite when he's in a bad mood! Anyhow, according to TWHS, he did manage to get off this morning along with some policians for the trip to Wake. Say hello to him if you run into him. He needs the cheering up.