Archive for November, 2007
I found this on my laptop tonight, and realized that one reason nobody cares about Project One is because they don’t know anything about it. And another is because they’re dweebs.
Seven hundred years after the near-destruction of the human race by an ancient but unknown enemy, the opportunity to travel back through time and witness the invasion first-hand presents itself to the government of the New Earth Colonies. After much preparation, a small group of observers is assembled and sent back to the year 1931, just months before the catastrophe is to occur.
The book actually begins with the arrival of one agent, Samuel Foote, who quickly tires of the mundane chores with which he has been tasked and begins to search for glory and meaning on his own. A combination of drive and inexperience leads him through a series of mishaps and harrowing adventures wherein he forms a tenuous relationship with the Mafia, becomes entangled with a foreign assassination attempt, accidentally saves the Earth from its intended doom and ultimately embodies the very hero whose legend was passed to him as a child and whose exploits caused him to join the observation team in the first place.
Though originally tasked only with the detached observation of the conflict, the team have rewritten history and become obligated to defend the planet from a secondary attack just weeks after the first was supposed to have struck. Conjoined with unlikely allies, the special agents fight the swarm of well-armed alien invaders alongside mobsters, U.S. National Guardsmen, Foreign Legionnaires and Native Americans. Successfully turning back the assault, the observers return to an unsure future but leave behind the troublesome Sam Foote and his battle-bonded friends, the very people for whom the adventure has just begun.
I’ve been all sickly since Thanksgiving, and have mostly been in relaxation mode since then:
- Watching my grandfather watch game after football game in high def.
- Finishing up The Shiva Option by David Weber and Steve White.
- Burning copies of an interview with my grandpa about his POW experiences.
- Sending invitations to the next Simmons Eat-n-Greet about a week late.
- Playing Dawn of War and getting all pissy with the Eldar.
- Eating lots of leftovers.
- Trying to stay warm (which is an uncharacteristic need for me).
- Cleaning up Trapper’s desktop, and finding random stuff like this endorsement of me.
- Getting excited about getting back to work on Project One.
- Napping. A lot.
My trip to the baby doctor with Lynn yesterday was fairly uneventful. The little dude still has a great heartbeat, and his mother is doing about as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Apparently it’s normal for a pregnant woman’s internal organs to get squished up into the roof of her mouth as the baby gets bigger and bigger.
Anyway, the nurse had her teenaged daughter there at the office with her–something about a lame pep rally, classes weren’t being held, etc.–and sometime during the general pre-pee-in-a-cup chitchat, it came up that the girl attended Bush-Mann High School in Middleboro. It was interesting, because we have some friends who live and work in Middleboro now, and one of them actually teaches at that school. Even more interesting is that it turns out our good friend, Adeline Novak, is one of the girl’s teachers, and is actually among her favorites.
Cool, great, yay, and Lynn was happy because she knew it would make Adeline happy. But I had a grand opportunity there that Lynn wouldn’t let me explore… and I’m sure I’ll regret it for years to come. You see, it’s the easiest thing in the world to start rumors–hurtful, funny as heck, whatever–amongst little kiddies like the one we had access to yesterday. For some reason, at her old school some little stoogie asked if Addy’s husband, Carter, was a Jew. And, no, I had nothing to do with that, unfortunately. Anyway, the rumor got out that my curly-headed friend of jackboot-wearing German descent was actually Jewish. I’m not sure what impact, if any, that particular bit of silliness had on Adeline’s career at that particular school, but obviously any of a number of other potentially damaging falsehoods could just as easily have come up. And I wanted so badly to start one myself, given the unrepeatable opportunity that had so unexpectedly presented itself to me. But I didn’t do it. Lynn was all, “That’s mean” and “you’ll damage our friendship” and “why would you do that, you fat-headed gravy sucker,” and it kind of got me off my game a little bit. Before we left, I told the girl to treat Addy well. Honestly, I said that, and that’s all. Of course, what I wanted to say was, “Treat her well because she has a mentally handicapped husband to tend to at home, and can’t put up with any foolishness out of you.”
That would have been awesome! But then, maybe it wouldn’t have been. Maybe Lynn was right after all. She did have some good points… and I do like my gravy…
Lynn has been invited to cooking classes at the filthy-factory-cum-uppity-shopping-center by her friend Lorraine in the past, but they’re wicked expensive and she’s always turned down the offer.
She got another invite today, to an $80 Viet cooking class… and, well, after a listen-through of the agenda, I gave her the green light on it. I figure it’s a small price to pay to have lemongrass chicken six times a week for the rest of my life. Hmm… I’ve always thought I’d be dead by 51, so maybe this is the reason…
Anyway, there’s that and the ugly-but-oh-so-good summer rolls, some kind of Frenchie Vietnamese dumplings or something, and a few other things. And, zang, if it sticks, I’ll be eating gooder than good around here, and also possibly thinking about trucking her off to the Thai cooking class in January or February or whenever. Mmm… spring rolls… all the stinkin’ time……………
|Meya L||you really freaked out our dog sitter/mail taker-inner.|
|Eugene BS||did he think the devil left you his favorite cassette tape?|
|Meya L||he thought we were home and he didn’t understand why the objects on the table changed.|
|Meya L||please tell me that condom was not visible. he was one of my students last year.|
|Eugene BS||nooo it was at the bottom of wayne’s goody basket|
|Eugene BS||those weren’t from your wedding were they? they were from somebody’s|
|Meya L||what?!? the condom? we got married in a church of christ.|
Tonight Lynn and I broke into Wayne’s and Meya’s (I’ve always loved that name) and left them some goodies for when they return on Sunday.
I just hope the poor dog-feeder-slash-mail-bringer-in doesn’t mess up our beautiful arrangement. Or freak out and call the fuzz. Or discover what I did in the back yard. Hopefully the dogs won’t get hung up in my artwork, too…
Here’s to you, Wayne Tollibert LeBoeuf, Jr., wherever you are.
You’ve got a funny tasting purple beer waiting for your return… or an alcoholic energy drink… or whatever you’re into these days.
Have a good trip…
I went and shaved my beard off again this morning… and am now in the process of growing it back again. I had it for over 3 years, and I just keep forgetting how much uglier I am without than with. With isn’t much better, but it’s enough.
I think I’ll try wearing it long again over the winter, even though it doesn’t look very neat on me that way. It’s good and warm, at least… my poor naked cheeks have been freezing all day.
I spotted a state House of Representatives license plate the other day. It’s not really all than an uncommon sight, actually, since these folks aren’t rolling in the cash like the fools in the “Big House” in Washington. Most of them have to drive themselves around to their various meets and greets and constituency shake-downs, but fortunately for us that means the buy-offs are relatively cheap.
In 2005, the state reps here each had posted salaries of $28,500… which, while not bad for a part-time gig, isn’t enough to maintain the absolute best scandals. So… it’s also not all that shocking to hear about the extracurricular activities many of our legislature keep themselves busy with.
But the car I saw last week, an old Caddy with the initials “WBB” on its House plate, also had a Pizza Hut delivery sign strapped to its roof. I really wasn’t sure whether to be laughy or pissy about it. Maybe it was a poor wannabe who really likes his pizza when he’s not voting on an anti-pants-down-around-the-knees resolution. Or maybe it was just a case of good old-fashioned abuse of privileges, wherein the state was paying for somebody else to move pies. Either way, I’m really annoyed now that I didn’t have a camera in the car to document the fun. We’ve got an old 1 megapixel CF camera that isn’t being used, and I’m thinking that that should start riding with me everywhere.
Anyway, it’s no Pizzagate, and probably wouldn’t even be blawg’d about anywhere else… it just goes to show that most of the fun stuff happens on the west end of the state, and that it’s just corn-fed mediocrity here in the middle of it. Mostly. We do have some good killings and public nekkedness every once in a while. And next time I see one, I’ll post pictures of it right here.
“Road Trip 2007 point one(?) has started, but is sucks.”
Listen to Eugene’s message