The coldest March in recent memory continues and for about the fifth time in the past three weeks, I have no heat. That means that instead of using my holiday for good, I get to spend yet another day waiting for the plumber to come out and not fix it correctly. This annoys me. I may just spend the weekend at my other house.
The Weather Channel is no longer predicting snow showers in DC next week. I’m pretty much OK with that.
I’m bored with this theme now and am going to bed.
It seems that whole Republican “limited government” philosophy only applies when starting or ending a marriage is not involved.
I will not allow the state to decide how a portion of my income will be spent nor to regulate my business, but I’m happy as a clam to allow the state to tell me whom I may choose to marry and how long we must stay together.
Uh huh…
Spirit of the West
Home for a Rest (1990)
Tonight at dinner, a friend and coworker was asking me if I thought I’d ever get married again. I replied, as you might imagine, that I could scarcely imagine anything more unlikely. But I may have changed my mind. I think I’m ready to engage in a long-term relationship with the shower head in my hotel room. It’s quite wonderful. It’s not a sex thing, but damn…
That said, the “massaging soap” is really creeping me the fuck out.
Photos from my recent weekend in Bristol, Kingsport, and Johnson City. I’d always thought it would be fun to spend a weekend there. I was right.
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Interesting article from the RaleighCharlotteNewsObserver about how the southern accent is disappearing from urban areas in North Carolina. We’ve all been hearing this for years and it is, of course, true. I work with lots of younger NC natives who sound no more southern than the people I worked with in California and I sometimes spend days at a time going about my business without hearing a noteworthy twang. I think this research is too quick to dismiss the impact of broadcast media, but that may be an artifact of the article rather than the actual research.
People here have a hard time figuring me out too. With my North Carolina roots having been moderated by some speech training, by some low-grade radio work, and by thirteen years in California, the average person I meet has no clue where I come from (although they could probably figure it out by paying close attention). And I kind of like that.
Highlights from last week’s trip to Washington:
And some stuff for a warm spring evening:
Indochine
Canary Bay (1985)
And a cover from 2009.
Surprisingly enough, though, I still love Elmo.
Photos from my New Year’s trip to Norfolk, Virginia Beach, and environs. These were delayed by, you know, all the rotten stuff that happened in January. It was a great trip, though.
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