my wife asked me a poignant question this morning. Here is the problem: What would you do all day if you didn’t have that blasted computer?
What a dirty question. I said, “You mean ALL DAY?”
She said “yes” and I had to answer her. I told her to give me a bit of time to think about it. After I got over the horrible trauma of thinking I would not have a computer, I wrote down this list in pencil because she would not let me near the computer:
1. I would get out my fishing gear and polish it up for the first day the sun stays out and the wind doesn’t blow.
2. I’d bring the landscape I’m painting in from the garage and add another layer of oils. (The painting is in the garage because I can’t stand the odor continually coming off oil paints.)
3. I THINK about cleaning the garage. Well, maybe not this year.
4. I’d clean my desk top. I need to find my stapler.
5. I’d study the grandiose marketing plan for my current MLM activity.
6. I’d think about how I could “tweak” my current direct mail and mail order activities. The object would be to increase profits to the point that they exceed losses.
7. I’d think about taking the cars down to the car wash and giving them their annual cleaning. Thinking about that, I think I missed the last two years. I’d put a top priority on that.
8. I’d take my granddaughter out to study the current bird populations before the spring migration ends or the Bird Flu gets them.
9. I’d get out my sketch pad and do some drawings to try to get up to the third grade level. (You don’t need to be an artist to paint some paintings but you must be an artist to draw properly. I’m sure you have to be born with it.)
10. I’d plan that trip I’ve wanted to take to Singapore and Hong Kong. What are the tsunami predictions for Thailand?
11. I’d brush up on the history of the Peloponnesian War.
12. I’d run right down and buy a battery operated backup computer and enclose it in lead in case of a huge computer-killing solar flare.
I think I’ll do Number 12 anyway.
My wife blocked me from getting back on the computer. She said, “You need some fresh air. Get out there and finish cleaning up the flower beds. It will do you good.”
I told her that I thought that Tony could finish up the flower beds where I left off. Tony is the Mexican fellow who cuts our lawn.
That’s when my seventy-one-year-old wife kicked me squarely in the pants. I was out in the yard in a flash.