Friday, March 29, 2002

Soul Food Chain

Some days, Nature piles on.

I've been in a foul mood the past few days, feeling like I have no real control over my life. It's an awful feeling, even if one rationally knows that there are no particular problems that cause it. I figured a nice walk along the shore would help lift my spirits, so I drove down to the bay for my lunch break. As I pulled over to park, I saw seagulls diving along the shoreline. Seeing birds always cheers me up, so it seemed that my plan was already working.

The gulls, of course, we're pouncing upon mussels and clams left exposed from the receding tide, then flying thirty-odd feet up to drop their catch onto rocks, which would crack the shells and allow the birds access to the helpless creatures within.

Thanks, Ma Nature. I hope you're not looking too forward to Mother's Day, 'cause I'm not getting you anything.

Thursday, March 28, 2002

Radio Clash

So I'm taking an early lunch, and decided to fire up Winamp on my computer to listen to a few MP3's I found this week while eating. Almost as soon as the first song, Swearing at Motorists's "I'll Only Sleep," started playing, my portable radio fell off the windowsill and nearly put out my eye with the antenna.

I know that the recording industry is trying to defend itself from online music piracy, but jeez isn't this taking it a little far?

Crime Spree

These items made this week's "Police Beat" report in The Bar Harbor Times:

"A Bar Harbor woman complained kids were skateboarding on floats at the town pier and splintering the wood March 24."

"A pill bottle was found in Baker Park March 25."

And, frankly, this is all making me very nervous for the safety of my family. Next thing you know, people will be stuffing objects that are either wigs or human hair into car tailpipes. What? That actually happened to someone here last week?

My God, is no place safe?

Tuesday, March 26, 2002

We're Number One

I just realized something on the way to work this morning: Maine is the only one-syllable state in the Union. It has more letters than the multisyllabic Utah, Ohio and Iowa — three syllables in four letters! — but takes less effort to say than either of them. For some reason, I'm strangely proud of this.

And as a result, I will always be against statehood for Guam.