OK, so I’m going through the DTs right now, as I’m in NY and unable to numb the pain of another interminable teleconference by playing Halo with my spare compute cycles.
A 40-year old should know better.
If you landed here looking for something more substantial, see this entry on cracks, Halo, halos, chaos, and all that.
papercasting: dead trees gone digital is the continuation of my little experiment in padcasting and plogging. It started as a lark, but I’m enjoying the format–it’s a different sort of journaling.
For example, I can do stuff like this:
OK, so I took Zoë to see “Because of Winn Dixie” today. It was well-acted, and Zoë enjoyed it, but I found myself debating about whether it was really a good movie or if it was overly-engineered to be emotionally manipulative. I mean, I found myself being plucked by the heartstrings with a little too much regularity for it to feel spontaneos and genuine.
Of course, it’s a freakin’ kid’s movie.
Yesterday, my 4-year old daughter shuffles into the living room wearing a fairy dress-up gown, with her underwear around her ankles, and shouts, “I’m going to be on Court TV!”
OK, it’s time to turn off the damn TV every time Michael Jackson’s name gets mentioned.
My son Jonah is in 5th grade at a Catholic school on the northern fringe of Baltimore. Due to the three consecutive snow days we recently had, he had to wait until March to present his Black History Month report. I think he could have waited indefinitely if he had the chance.
It wasn’t the subject matter that was the problem. Actually, I was kind of put off by the fact that they let him pick such an easy person to do the report on: Tiger Woods. No, it was the way that they decided to have the kids deliver their report that was the real problem: they had them pretend that they were statues in a wax museum.
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