It is a quiet Sunday morning here in Biffville (population: somnolent).
I know that this will not last. Soon Pandora will begin rummaging through her box to see what she can release on an unsuspecting household.
“Oh, this looks nice!” she will say, pulling out a particularly stylish-looking piece of pandemonium and holding up to assess its potential. “Yes, I think this will do quite nicely.”
And the next thing you know, my peaceful, serene Sunday morning will become a frantic bit of slapstick chaos that would have felt quite at home on a Vaudeville stage.
But that is okay. Such is life. And, in fact, arguably, it is things like that which actually let us know we are alive. If we let our lives become too serene and too sedate and peaceful, we can begin to question the very nature of reality and if we are, in actuality, alive or merely a part of some sort of computer simulation.
Best Served Cold
Dallas experienced its first real bout of cold weather over the past 36 hours or so. Friday was all sunshine and warm weather and smiles. We were frolicking about in 70 degree weather (21 C) and sunshine and singing “Walking On Sunshine”. And then, suddenly, Mother Nature said, “izzat so?” and rolled up her sleeves, reared back, and delivered a roundhouse punch that left us dazed and confused, and knocked us out cold.
The winds kicked up to about 35 MPH (30 knots) and the temperatures plunged down to about freezing. The winds eventually subsided to about 14 MPH (12 knots), but the temperatures fell to about 19 (-7 C).
I know all of these things may be laughably mild to people north of the Mason-Dixon line, but down here in the land of 100-degree summers (38 C) it can come as quite a shock to the system.
On the plus side, such a cold snap always causes the Starbucks stock price to shoot up about 20 points as people rush out to buy overpriced hot beverages. If Starbucks were to add fireplaces to their decor, they would have people packed into their stores as if they were Tokyo commuter trains.
Let’s Roll the Tape
Those of you who have been reading my blog for the past two years (ha ha ha!), may remember that I made a rash NYE resolution a year or two ago about cleaning out my attic.
I promised myself, while placing my hand on a stack of old Archie comics, that I would venture up into my attic and pull out a random box about once a month or so, go through it, and throw out most of its contents.
To date I have done that about … oh …. approximately …. zero times.
But I figured it is never too late to put a rash NYE resolution into practice, so yesterday I ventured up into the attic, exhumed a random box (the one that looked least likely to cause an avalanche if I removed it from the stack), and took it into my office to examine.
This turned out to be a bad choice, for it was full of old cassette tapes from the 1980s.
I did actually eventually go through the box, but but not before I rummaged around and found my old CD/cassette/radio boom box, dusted it off, and began listening to said tapes.
I may write a blog post or two about this in the near future, but my point is that this is exactly why I don’t like going through boxes in the attic. Far from creating space in the attic, and decluttering my life, it ends up accomplishing nothing except soaking up hours and hours of a day.
I will claim a minor victory, though. I did throw away a few things (e.g. empty cassette shells) and I set aside a good quantity of pre-recorded commercial tapes that either mean nothing to me, or that I have on CD, to take to Half-Price Books to sell. I know I will only get about a nickel a ton for them, but it prevents the guilt I would feel if I were to just throw them away.
And, to set your minds at ease (for I know you are worried about this), I’m keeping all the tapes I recorded myself from vinyl albums.
So the takeaway to this tale is: Don’t go through boxes in your attic unless you have an afternoon to kill. There will also be collateral damage in that it will also kill your sense of motivation and accomplishment.
In Conclusion ….
I suppose this post has gone on long enough. No one likes reading long posts. I don’t even like re-reading my own long posts! I can imagine the disinterest it would inspire in someone who is not me.
So let me put an end to this long, rambling post, which, in retrospect, I probably should have written as a “Biff Rambles On …” post. But it’s too late now).
The pen, having writ, gets bored and begins watching old Pink Panther cartoons on YouTube.
I hope you all have a wonderful Sunday, and that you can enjoy the remains of the weekend to the fullest!