Monday Meanderings - Sep 14

Saw a bumper sticker the other day that looked like this:

Given the paucity of rain this summer, one would not expect to come to work after Labor Day and find one's office flooded - from rain. Inside a nice, concrete building. But mine was. We're talking ceiling tiles collapsed from the weight and all the documents on my desk water logged. My telephone dripped water when I picked it up. My computer evidently stayed dry. The documents are easily replaced. The computer is always backed up. Still, it is rather unsettling. This was before the rains really came later in the week. It rained 14 inches in Williamson County; you would expect your office and everything else to be flooded, then.

Texas is the only place I know where you can have Stage 2 watering restrictions and flash flood warnings on the same newscast.

Social networking is a lot bigger than I thought. Last weekend we were listening to the Texas game on the radio (because it was only on pay-per-view) and watching the OU-BYU game with the sound turned off. Late in the 4th quarter the OU kicker missed a field goal - guaranteeing a win for BYU. On the radio - as if the missed kick was being shown in Royal-Memorial Stadium, a gigantic roar goes up from the Texas crowd. It wasn't being shown, and no public address announcement was made; the crowd got the news from Tweets, texts, and phone browsers - almost in real time!

I'm at a physical therapy session, enjoying the wonderful "roller couch" that delightfully kneads ones back, when I glance over to the next therapy table. Now, a lot of people come in wearing casts and braces and various medical appliances; it's a common sight. But I was really struck by this particular device and wondered "What kind of injury does this person have and what kind of cast is that?" Then I got a good look at it - here it is from my perspective:

 

No wonder this person needed therapy - and obviously she was showing the staff what caused the pain! 

Yesterday before church started a young woman came over and said, "I hope you are not already booked for the season. I'm planning a party and I really need a Santa!"

Okay. I admit that between the beard and the belly  the resemblance to Santa has been growing (literally). It obviously is time to take drastic measures -- I'm thinking about dying the beard.