Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Monday, August 30, 2004
OOOOhhh--A Special Two-For-One Meet-A-Blogger!
It’s just now 2:17, and I have spent a very enjoyable 2 hours and 17 minutes with Wind Rider, who has been in town for a few days while he waits for his employment situation to gel. Such a nice fellow to be hanging around with the like of me. I hope he doesn’t start stalking local celebrities or anything. AND to top it off, while we were waiting for our food, there was an incredible clash-of-the-worlds moment when his cell phone rang and it was Meryl Yourish! He graciously allowed me to speak with her, and to her credit she neither screamed nor hung up.
So it was that I got to speak to two formerly voiceless bloggers in a single day!
As for lunch itself, as noted it was at noon at Cameo Café, well known purveyor of sammiches and salads type food, which suits me just fine. I arrived a few minutes ahead of time so I could get the good chair facing the door. You can never be too careful, you know.
After a few minutes, a man in sunglasses appeared at the door, and since he looked suspicious, I knew it must be my contact. I used his REAL name (yes, “Wind Rider,” I found out, is merely a nom de blog, and yes, I was a bit disappointed that he didn’t look more like Iron Eyes Cody, but hey) and we sat down and struck up a conversation that went all the way to 2:17.
Subjects included work, working for a giant faceless bureaucracy, Meryl Yourish, writing, politics, old media, stupid people, the local neighborhoods going downhill since his last visit home, the beautiful burgeoning bath-friendly Trussville, his attempts to try and replace or restore the old plane in front of Banks Middle School, gay marriage, technology, local politics, and how I managed to get started blogging (a meteor struck me in the head, which is NOT what I told Mr. Rider). At this point, we were through eating our sammiches and chips and I had consumed exactly three Styrofoam cups of Diet Coke, so we paid and we made our way back up 20th Street to Linn Park, the sunlight dappling playfully over the various bums sleeping on the benches. I started to take my leave, and then decided to invite Wind Rider on up to The Axis of Weevil Control Station.
After waking up Asa the security guard, I escorted him (Wind Rider, not Asa) upstairs where he got to sit across from me in the Magic Chair for Guests, the hallowed empty chair to which I direct all my normal yammering and caterwauling, pretending as I usually do that it is occupied with someone I would actually like to have a conversation with. And today, IT ACTUALLY HAD A PEOPLE IN IT! Incredible. So, we got started again on the jawboning, whereupon we talked about the gigantic pile of crap on my desk, fine art (the kid art on the wall behind me), national politics, stupid people, the empty husk of humanity we call John Kerry, Hillary in ’08, old media some more, the weakness of secure systems being the necessity of including a human component, stalking, my run-in with the law this morning (long story), and some other stuff I am not at liberty to disclose.
It got about time for him to make his exit, so we got up to leave. On the way out, I showed him the old 1926 zoning map we have of Birmingham on the wall, and he pointed out where his homestead was located. AND, at just that moment, The Guy Who Can’t Do Tables in MSWord (And Who Talks to You at the Urinal) happened by with his lunchbox and some sort of head cold or something. I remembered that Can’t Do Tables Guy was a Banks graduate, too, (back when it was a high school) and introduced him to Wind Rider and suddenly is was Old Home time again. Seems they knew all the same folks and neighbors and such. Small world, eh?
And all because of the miracle of the Internet.
Well, maybe not.
Anyway, it was good to play host to Wind Rider for a few hours, and I hope he drops back by again soon, and I hope he had as much fun as I did. And if he didn’t, that he would just keep that to himself.
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