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14 Feet is Maybe Too Much

I need a cable to hook up a peripheral to my Mac, and so I went to Best Buy to look for one. (I bought one last year, according to Amazon which tells you on what date you ordered something even if it was a jillion years ago, but I couldn’t tell you where it is to save my life.)

They had two. One was 52 bucks (uh, no thanks, I saw them for ten bucks on Amazon) and the other was 32. Junior told me to just get the $32 one (I had a $5 coupon, but still…) but the guy who found it for me pointed out that the reason it was so expensive was because it was fourteen feet long. Okay, picture a laptop, and picture something you want to connect to it, like, say, a camera. Do you have any need at all for a 14 foot cable? Because I don’t.

So I don’t have a cable yet, but I hear you can get one on Amazon for $10, and the only problem is that it disappears into the void at your house after a while.

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Day Two of Being a Hall of Famer

It’s my official 2nd day of being an Utter Wonder Hall of Famer. Things are still going exceedingly well in the Hall of Famer department. I had no idea what it was like to be a Hall of Famer, I mean, it’s like all of a sudden my life was converted to HD when it used to be just normal regular TV. You don’t really know what you’re missing until you get that HD TV, and then you scorn the people who are still living with the technology of the 60s and 70s.

That’s what it’s like being me.

I highly recommend you all become Hall of Famers so that we can start getting together on the 2nd Wednesday of the month for a luncheon. (That’s a good word, isn’t it? Luncheon. Not just a sandwich and a drink, it’s a luncheon, because special people don’t just eat lunch. They attend luncheons.

One of you will have to be the guest speaker, though, because I’m going to be busy trying to eat my lunch. Luncheon. Sorry, still not used to all this.

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Autographs, $5 Each

Okay, all the cool kids probably knew this, but I’m a Hall of Famer. I’m a rock star. I’m a goodness-to-gracious web celeb. CMonks added me to his Hall of Fame over at Utter Wonder today.

This is the moment I’ve been dreaming of ever since I realized that you can’t be Miss America if you are older than 30 and have been married for 15 years. Well, I hit 15 years in 2 weeks, but you get my point.

I said to myself, “Self, if you can’t be Miss America, or be one of the kids who gets to be on the box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, you could at least be in the Hall of Fame at Utter Wonder because he has absolutely no requirements other than that you ask. And I can do that! I’m a good asker!”

So there I am.

And for the record, I do like dolphins. They are cool. Not as cool as rhinos, but hey, what is?

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Great Moments Not Caught On Film

I’m more than a little bummed the past couple of days. (What day is this? Saturday? Okay, that’s good.) Thursday night at Junior’s Little League game he hit a GRAND SLAM, the first in his life (hell, he hasn’t even hit a home run before now) and I did not capture the moment on film. Or on computer chip. For the first time, I’m REALLY mad that my good video camera is broken and that I haven’t been able to replace it. I mean, what if he never hits another grand slam? My parents weren’t able to make the game and I won’t be able to share the moment with them. And trust me, they’ve been to enough games where we’ve all had to say “good try” to him because prior to this year his mad baseball skillz were, well, lacking. He had none. He had a lot of heart and loved to play, but well, never quite pulled it off. He couldn’t hit and he couldn’t catch. But now, he hits everything and his glove is a baseball magnet. (In addition to the grand slam he also hit a double, for 5 RBIs on the night) I think you should all put him on your fantasy baseball watch list cause he’s gonna rock the big leagues.
But I can’t show it to you because I don’t have a video camera. Grrrrr.

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The Entertainment Portion of Your Day

Here is the part of the website where I try to entertain you by making up a story and trying to convince you it’s absolutely true. Well, I will place two true “truthiness nuggets” in the story, and your job will be to try to determine which those are.

I was eating lunch at Johnny Rockets at the Burlington Mall when I realized I’d left my wallet in the car. This was not cool because, well, Mrs. Rocket was staring at me with a bill in her hand and I couldn’t very well tell her that I did not have any money. I scanned the restaurant to see if I knew anybody, and was shocked and amazed to see Mike Lowell eating a #12 with his family. It turns out Mike is a big fan of the “red red sauce” that they put on the #12, and he often eats there four or five times a week. Now me, if I was a big famous sports star, I would ask if they could hook me up with a bottle of the stuff, but maybe he just enjoys spending quality time at the mall. You never know.
But you thought I was going to ask Mike if he could cover my bill for me, right? Wrong. I could not do that. But what I could do is ask Mike if he was interested in buying my watch from me. It’s a Timex Ironman Triathlon watch with Indiglo, so you can tell what time it is in the dark. I told him I’d sell it to him for $19.65, which covered my bill plus a hearty 10% tip. (Only 10% because Mrs. Rockets forgot to bring me my fries and she forced me to do the ketchup all by myself instead of doing the first pour for me. Beeatch.
Mike inspected the watch for wear and tear and told me he’d give me a full twenty for it, which was fantastic. I didn’t want to give Mrs. Rockets the extra 35 cents, but I felt it would be awkward to ask her for it. But then, Mike Lowell paid for the watch using giant handfuls of change. I’m not even sure how he got all that change into his pockets. He may have been carrying it in some sort of man bag. And you should totally not make fun of him for carrying a man bag because on him it would look very very cool, unless it had some kind of Hello Kitty design on it. I’m not saying he’s partial to Hello Kitty, but really, could you blame the man? It’s so damned cute!
So I handed Mrs. Rockets the twenty, and thanked her for a lovely meal. On the way out of the restaurant I noticed they had a giant gumball machine. I love gumballs, and couldn’t believe I’d just tossed away that extra thirty five cents. All I needed for a gumball was twenty five cents, you see. So I made eye contact with Mike Lowell again and nodded toward the gumball machine. He got up from his table and came over to me, and used his manly baseball muscles to push over the huge gumball machine like it was so many Q-Tips. The ball on top shattered, and hundreds of gumballs flooded the entryway to Johnny Rockets. I gave Mike Lowell and thankful nod and as I grabbed a handful of gumballs, careful to avoid the ones with glass in them, I whispered “until next time.”

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