Google

I think Google just read my mind.  It's creepy, how can a question about a banana lead to the condemnation of Google?

Like this:

Me: (to myself) Ummm . . .  banana for breakfast.  I wonder how man calories are in a banana.  I'll Google it.  (typing) C a l
Google: (predictive search) calories in a banana
Me: What!  How could Google know that was my question!? Do that many people want to know about calories in bananas?  Is Google Big Brother?  Is Google the Anti-Christ?  Oh NO!  Google I love you!  Please don't be evil!
Google: showing websites
Me: clicking first link
Site: "If you would like to find out how many calories are in a banana, then bingo, you have come to the best page online to get the answer to your question."
Me: Wow Google, you're awesome.

FYI small banana (6-7") = 90 calories
banana site

in the garden

EJ and I are out in the garden.  By "garden" I mean one dandylion, a pepper plant long considering making a pepper, a tomato plant trying it's hardest to produce two tiny tomatoes after a decidedly unfruitful summer, and my houseplants.  We like it anyway.  The weather if perfect for our fuzzy socks and hoodies.  She's already kicked one of her fuzzy socks off.


Monday I decided to go for a walk.  I put on my neglected Sketchers and set out.  I wasn't being too ambitious.  The plan was to walk for 15 minutes out
and turn around.  A 30 minute walk in the sunshine with my headphones, all alone (which doesn't happen often.)  First thing was no signal on my phone.  I was trying to listen to internet radio, but alas it was not to be.  I kept going. My shoes were rubbing a little, but no biggie.  13 minutes in the bubble burst. Sketchers put the B in blister.  A raw one.  I hobbled home.

That's one way to start an exercise program.  I pulled the bandage off last night.  It looked raw, but I figured some air would help.  This morning it was tight and quite painful.  So I'm back to my Birks and fuzzy socks, and I don't even care.  I know how tacky it is, but don't knock it until you try it.  It is, as a matter of fact, awesome.  Awesome like sitting in the "garden" with my baby girl.

Traffic posting

Of course there's traffic on the day I leave late.  I have so many ideas i can't wait till i get to a computer.

The other day I was driving through town when I saw two shiney black Crown Vics- blacked out police cars.  I knew they were police cars because of the grill guard, the robust antena and the black on black paint that said "POLICE"  down the length of the cars. It was like saying, "We are police, and we are letting you know, but we don't want you to know."

It reminded me of a time I saw a similar thing, except the cars weren't completely blacked out, the windows weren't tinted, so when we looked inside we saw five large men wearing ski masks.  It was disconcerning, but then one of them leaned forward so that we could see the POLICE badge across his back;I felt we might not die that day.

It also reminded me of the "G-car" conversations I used to have with T many years ago. The conversations generally went something like this:

T: (Pointing out a car) G-car.
Me: It's just a Buick.
T: G-car.
Me: How do you know it's not just some granny who drives a Buick?
T: G-car.
Me: How do you know?!
T: Look at it!  It's a G-car, driven by a G-man.
Me: I don't believe you.
T: I know a G-car when I see one.
Me: Whatever.

Two hours later-
T: (Pointing out a car) G-car.
Me: It is not!
T: That's a G-car if I ever saw one.
Me: Stop it!
T: G-car.
Me: (glaring)
T: G-car.

Is that really a conversation? 

That reminded me of other declarations he would make which were ahead of thier time.

We are sitting in a movie theater waiting for the show to start:

"Do you see those Exits?"
"Yes"
"If someone comes in to kill us they will come from the left."
"What, Why?!"
"So you will need to try to get to the right."
"What are you talking about?!"
"There's no light behind that door.  Don't try to go through the lobby, they might try to block it, but that door on the right exits to the parking lot. It's lit."
"Why would someone come in to kill us?"
"I'm not saying they will."
"You just said if they come in I should go to the right exit."
"You should, if they do."
"WHY would anybody DO that?"
"I don't know!  Maybe they are crazy! I'm not crazy, I don't know why crazy people do crazy things!"

Yeah, that sounded absured until  the Aurora, CO situation. Sadly, context has been given.

Planning a flight:

"Oh- I don't like those planes."
"Why not?"
"Look where the exits are.  Do you know how easy it would be to highjack that flight, and hold this whole section hostage?  They would only need a few highjackers, and just one gun really."
"So, I shouldn't take this plane?"
"No, you can take this plane, it's fine- you should sit here because you can see everything clearly, and you can respond."
"Respond to what?"
"The threat."
"What threat? You think there's going to be a threat on this plane?"
"No."
"What's wrong with you?!"
"You should wear shoes with good soles."
"What are you talking about?"
"In case you crash, and need to hike out."
"Stop talking."

Thinking about those conversations made me wonder what kind of stuff he came up with post 9/11/01.

9/11 made me think about Crazy Betty, but there's not time for that now.