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Dec. 22nd, 2004 07:31 amI just heard from one of the techs over here that Wal-Mart is selling Linux based laptops. I cannot imagine that their customer base is going to be very interested. On the other hand, I'm seeing a lot of laptop returns by angry customers in the future who can't figure out why their Windows looks different from everybody else's. A great idea was briefly discussed; a group of us should go to Wal-Mart and ask one of the sales reps to demonstrate the features of one of the Linux laptops and watch the ensuing confusion...
I trundled to work today. I trundled home from work yesterday. It wasn't easy; though I've always thought of trundling as a very winter-centric activity (intimately associated with images of thick winter coats, snow-boots, and the bitter bite of winter winds) and the pervasive cold makes it much easier to accomplish (have you ever tried to trundle in the middle of summer? It takes a better man than I to do anything even reminiscent of trundling in the middle of a heat wave. Trudging perhaps, but that's a different story), there really isn't enough snow on the ground for a good solid trundle.
A shame too; trundling always seemed rather dignified in a quaint, British sort of way. It seems like a very purposeful activity, very directional, very determined. One might go out in a light dusting of snow and trundle to the corner store for instance: on the other hand, even if there were to be a blizzard raging outside the house, I just don't think that getting bored and deciding to go out for a quick trundle 'round the block would be at all effective.
Sounds like that's going to change by this evening though; we'll be getting a bunch of the white stuff starting at six o' clock, building up to as much as ten inches by tomorrow morning. I should at least have the chance to get wrapped up in my coat and scarf (due to necessary appearances at work I have to forego the boots) and trundle out to my truck in the morning. I think that's when the activity is really at it's most starkly effective; leaving your warm apartment and your warmer still-sleeping mate to walk out to your bone-chillingly cold car in the frigid hour-before-dawn darkness of a deep December morning, yet-to-be-shoveled snow falling into the tops of dress shoes that are entirely inappropriate for this activity as you navigate a walkway composed of 6 inches of snow over concrete winter-made into an even harder and more unforgiving surface than would be thought possible by those who have never lived through a mid-west winter. This is trundling at it's finest, most defining moment and I dare any practitioners of the art to say different.
(Yes, this is the sort of thing I produce when I find myself with too much time on my hands. I hope the rest of the day is as slow...)
I trundled to work today. I trundled home from work yesterday. It wasn't easy; though I've always thought of trundling as a very winter-centric activity (intimately associated with images of thick winter coats, snow-boots, and the bitter bite of winter winds) and the pervasive cold makes it much easier to accomplish (have you ever tried to trundle in the middle of summer? It takes a better man than I to do anything even reminiscent of trundling in the middle of a heat wave. Trudging perhaps, but that's a different story), there really isn't enough snow on the ground for a good solid trundle.
A shame too; trundling always seemed rather dignified in a quaint, British sort of way. It seems like a very purposeful activity, very directional, very determined. One might go out in a light dusting of snow and trundle to the corner store for instance: on the other hand, even if there were to be a blizzard raging outside the house, I just don't think that getting bored and deciding to go out for a quick trundle 'round the block would be at all effective.
Sounds like that's going to change by this evening though; we'll be getting a bunch of the white stuff starting at six o' clock, building up to as much as ten inches by tomorrow morning. I should at least have the chance to get wrapped up in my coat and scarf (due to necessary appearances at work I have to forego the boots) and trundle out to my truck in the morning. I think that's when the activity is really at it's most starkly effective; leaving your warm apartment and your warmer still-sleeping mate to walk out to your bone-chillingly cold car in the frigid hour-before-dawn darkness of a deep December morning, yet-to-be-shoveled snow falling into the tops of dress shoes that are entirely inappropriate for this activity as you navigate a walkway composed of 6 inches of snow over concrete winter-made into an even harder and more unforgiving surface than would be thought possible by those who have never lived through a mid-west winter. This is trundling at it's finest, most defining moment and I dare any practitioners of the art to say different.
(Yes, this is the sort of thing I produce when I find myself with too much time on my hands. I hope the rest of the day is as slow...)
