This was exactly my opinion last night while I was watching the debate. The constant repetition of “my friends” was spooking me out, but I didn’t think anyone else had noticed it, until I read the following.
Repeatedly calling me and everyone else in the United States “my friends” is extremely annoying. In part, it’s just an irritating phrase. Beyond that, I’m not your friend. I don’t know you, and, from what I know of you, I don’t even really like you. Sorry to focus on such superficialities when the world economy is going to Hell, but you probably lost more votes with your constant repitition of “my friends” than from anything Obama said.
It would seem that (and thanks to Electric Venom for reminding me) today is International Talk Like A Pirate Day. We take language seriously over here on this blog, so we shall go around saying “Arrrrrh!” to all our friends today. I hope that they can deal with it.
Fair disclosure: I am not doing this solely to pretend I’m a pirate today, although that certainly has its charms. I simply want to distract Cincinnati people’s attention away from the fact that I do have electrical power at our house, and we have had power since Monday. Saying something like that around here now can cause a riot.
It’s not only amazing how many social activity oriented services there are on the Internet, but amazing how many I’ve joined. I love to look like a skeptic, but that only goes so far.
I’ve just tried friendfeed, which doesn’t seem to work when I paste its widget into my sidebar. So, forget that service. Twitter is also becoming doubtful in my eyes. Why did I think everyone should know what I’m doing? I have no idea any more. Am preparing to yank that service, but I don’t have time for playing with that code right now.
Dentist: uneventful. Only screamed once. But seriously, folks… nothing to report, and only reporting the nothing because I’d promised you all I would.
I am noticing a rhythm to the days now, for the first time since my operation a year ago this last March. It’s a good rhythm, one I haven’t had at least since I’d drop Peter off to grade school and head to my math classes at the University of Cincinnati, an even longer time ago.
Having a rhythm to your days is a gift. What that rhythm contains is up to you, but the simple gift of enough days to find a rhythm, that’s a gift.