In which we pass another debate-free weekend

As I work my way through editing the Epistles of St. Jules to the Forensicians, I am reminded that some of my best material when out in those emails. Shrubb, the Nostrumite’s answer to Jeeves at Mite Manor in Chappaqua, commenting on the lack of available castrati, for instance, should not be lost to future generations. Or at least not yet. One way or the other I’ll be working these into my Wednesday Nostrum postings.

I picked up a new keyboard slash cover for my iPad over the weekend. I have one that’s quite heavy, but good for work, at meetings when a keyboard is a necessity and I don’t want to lug around my DJ 15-inch MacBook. I figured one for traveling would make sense as well, although quite often just the standard light Apple cover is what one wants. Mostly I’m doing this to keep technolust from the door as the new Airs come out. I continue to treat my computers like my cars: as long as they get me from one place to the other, I don’t upgrade them. I believe in getting full value out of things, and my old MacBook Pro at home is perfectly usable, nicely spiffed up with the latest operating system and still as vital as it needs to be. Then again, for the most part, all one ever does nowadays is work on the interwebs. I can do whole tournaments on my browser, except for printing. I have Word and Excel on the iPad, and all my files are in the cloud. Buying a new computer would serve no purpose other than to lighten my wallet, which I can do more intelligently in small bits by buying cheap keyboards and the like. Given that every time I use my credit card I get a message on my iPhone, I am more aware than ever of the money going out. On the positive side, there is still money coming in. (Thank you, DJ.) When I declare bankruptcy, I’d rather not do it surrounded by sexy laptops.

And I’ve managed to pack up a whole boatload of medals for the little people (i.e., middle school parliamenters) to mail out, as they didn’t get them at the state championships. I knew I had a bunch of MHL medals somewhere, but it took me a while to find them, and not before the natives started getting restless, wondering where they were. Hey, natives, why don’t you dig around my basement for a while, and then find padded envelopes to pack them up and then carry them over to the post office in the pouring rain and sleet and hail and dark of night? Jeesh!