I live in a nuclear bunker. That’s not the statement of a crazy person. That’s a statement of fact. Cell phone signals might as well be bounced off the noon to give them an excuse for being so crappy in my crib.
At approximately 9:30 according to my binary clock (yes, I read time in binary), Hector called on my cell. The usual drill is that I tell the caller that I need to go outside for a better signal and I’d rather use my minutes instead. I double checked the time with Hector. He said 9:50.
Damn. The sprinkler system turns on at 10. That’s right, TEN. Such nonsense might be acceptable in Iran but it never ceases to shock me–especially after getting soaked on dozens of occasions since moving to Greenacres (my life is full of all sorts of weird stuff.)
Since Hector gets priority in virtually all phone call scenarios, I would take the call regardless so I moved to the other side of the parking lot.
The sprinklers turned on as expected. But then something else happened. Big, fat f’n raindrops started coming down from the heavens.
I’m usually wet from swimming every day so talking on the phone in the rain is just no big deal to me.
Inside of a torrential rain, Hector and I had our usual conversation–music industry, computers, women and other miscellaneous bullshit. Some dude walked up to me with a giant umbrella and asked if I liked being in a downpour.
“No. Not really. Not at all.”, I responded. “But the sprinklers are on over there, the sky opened up above me, I’m already in the middle of a call and water isn’t going to kill me.”
I thanked him for asking anyway and he continued on. Hector and I talked for a few more minutes until I realized his voice was getting fainter and fainter. I had my volume on max which, ordinarily, is REALLY loud. No significant change. The phone was water-logged. Time to retreat.
As a shining example of how good this summer has been to my fitness, I pushed my absolutely drenched self through driving rain up an incline and a small step into my house. I was proud of that by itself. I was in no position to actually conquer that short terrain under those circumstances but it did and the reward is great.
I get to do something else that not many people do. Write in my publicly accessible journal that I am writing my journal while completely naked. That’s right, folks. Naked. Say it loud. Say it proud. You wish you could.
In other news, my computer is evolving into an uber-slick pimp machine. I have a flat panel with a matching wireless keyboard and mouse which just happens to fit with my phone. If the money comes in over the next few months as I expect, I’ll get a mini-ITX with a nice small case and hand my current machine to Noah.
