Today was going to be a perfect day to row the perimeter of Geneva Lake: Clear, not too hot, with little wind, and on a weekday so no horrible crowds. I got everything together yesterday evening, went to bed early, got up early, loaded the car... And the car wouldn't start. I pulled down the canoe and called for a tow. I have been looking forward to this for over a year, and having to abort the plan at this late stage HURTS. There will be other days, it will happen, but... GRRR.
Disturbing hypotheitcal of the day: What would it take to get you to play a game of Russian Roulette? How much money, up front (assignable to your estate) would it take for you to bet your life, five to one, against death RIGHT NOW?
I asked myself that, a few minutes ago, and was surprised at how concrete and instant the answer was. I will let the gallery ruminate on that for a while before I share my answer.
Watching taped Graham Norton. Salma Hayek told a GREAT story about meeting Danny Trejo for the first time, which led to us looking up Danny Trejo stories on IMDB. Danny Trejo is WONDERFUL...
Russian Roulette, Part 2
(Tagging everyone who commented last time.)
Let's look at a different hypothetical, shall we? Let's say you were stranded on a remote island. You had shelter, and significant but finite and non-renewable supplies. You had zero reasonable chance of rescue. You also had a small, leaky skiff with an outboard motor, a tank of gasoline, and no oars. A ship appears on the horizon. If you fire up the skiff and try to reach the ship, there is chance (50%, plus or minus 40%) that you will be rescued. But if you try and fail, you WILL NOT be able to return to the island, and you will die in the skiff in a few days. What do you do? I will let the commentariat chew on this for a while before I make further comments.
In other news, I managed to get my my nine button Faire boots on without resource to a valet. Dislocated both hips in the process...
Finally caught up on recorded TV for the first time in years. Dementia hit the DVD stack. A few suggestions were made, and then we got to "Studio 60". We just watched the first episode for the first time since it was current. DAMN, that was a good show. Best non-genre show ever, maybe. I seem to recall that it made me cry during EVERY episode. So far the memory is accurate...
There was a kid in my neighborhood, growing up, one of three brothers. He was seven years my junior, but good friends with my youngest brother, and I saw a lot of him over the years. One night his dog bit my face, and he drove me to the hospital so they could sew my upper lip back together. He was one of three people who joined me in my parent's basement for an Intellivision Baseball tournament the night before I got married. He was kind of goofy and painfully conscientious. He drifted a while after high school, ended up in the Coast Guard...
I saw a video clip of him the other day; he was giving the "everything that can be done, is being done" speech after a boating accident. Same clean cut, athletic strawberry blond he had always been. There were birds on his collar. CAPTAIN Greg Case. Day-amn.
Here's to you, Greg. You done good.