Possibly Proving I Might Think a Library Card is More Important than Most Emergency Supplies
Let's see, what's been going on? The 2nd annual Labor Day Weekend Road Trip went well. Steve and I drove down to the D.C. area for an extended weekend. We went to the NSA's Cryptologic Museum, so I think it's safe to assume we're on some kind of government watchlist. I thought we might have outfoxed them by not signing the guestbook, but then Steve had to pay with a credit card in the gift shop. That's how they get you. It wasn't a very big museum, but it might have had the longest guided tour per square foot of space I've ever been on. It was like an hour and a half and the museum had only four or five exhibit areas. And we skipped stuff. All other museuming was Smithsonian in nature - Natural History, Air & Space, and American History - the latter I have never been to.
Everything else involved tramping around the city; Library of Congress, the Capital, the Mall. The library being where we scored our greatest coupe. Our tour guide mentioned that you can get a library card for the Library of Congress, Steve and I looked at each other and said, "Oh, we are so doing that!" Because that is the kind of nerdy thing that we would do. Sure we had to go over to another building, fill out some paperwork, but it was totally worth it. Having reading privileges at arguably one of the more exclusive libraries in the country is just a tool I want to have in my Nerd Toolbox. You never know when you're going to need to stand up and shout, "To the library!" For the curious, you do have to apply for the cards in person and they are good for two years. And technically you are supposed have actual research you want to do, but no one asks you about it.
We did a ton of walking, even for me, overall and by Sunday we had to have a slightly shorter day of activities to avoid temporarily crippling our feet so badly we wouldn't be able to even make a show of getting out of the car a couple of times at Manassas. Which we did. Though for me that was easier walking because it's all fields and grass. What really killed me in the city is we did so much walking in buildings with super hard marble floors. That's just so much harder on your feet because there is no give.
In other news, Steve continues to operate on the premise that no wife of his is allowed to keep using the same technology year after year while he's around. In this particular instance, that apparently means not having a two-ish year old phone. So I have an iPhone now as an early birthday present. It still might be too much phone for me, but I have thirty days to try it out and we can send it back if I don't like it. Which we all know probably won't happen. I'm not completely technologically inept, so thirty days from now I'll be totally comfortable with it and wonder how I ever lived without it. Until then, I have to improve my touchscreen skills.
As always, reading quite a bit. A lot of so-so stuff, but a few gems. Trying to get serious about reading more Rushdie, because I keep enjoying him so much. Haroun and the Sea of Stories was a cute little fairytale and Shame was fantastic and the first one of his where the story had me from page one. Usually it takes me a little while to get in. Currently reading Naked Lunch, which is ok, but I think suffers from a similar problem as other "iconoclast" books like Tropic of Cancer, which is what was shocking and taboo back when they were written is borderline quaint now. Well, maybe not quaint, but maybe more like desperate. They are meant to be tough and no-holds-barred, but contemporaneously, they come off flailing for attention about how edgy they are. Marilyn Manson-esque, if you will. Except in this case that means, "Oooh, stark drug use and rampant homosexuality portrayed as deviant and filthy...aren't we daring?" It's meant as satire, but if this is the only exposure a more conservative person gets to drug and/or gay culture, you might not fault them for being a little disturbed. It's like that Onion headline about "Gay-Pride Parade Sets Mainstream Acceptance Of Gays Back 50 Years." On the other hand for satire, Cold Comfort Farm was surprisingly funny. Proving that really all some Rustic Eccentrics novels need is one efficient, sane person.
Everything else involved tramping around the city; Library of Congress, the Capital, the Mall. The library being where we scored our greatest coupe. Our tour guide mentioned that you can get a library card for the Library of Congress, Steve and I looked at each other and said, "Oh, we are so doing that!" Because that is the kind of nerdy thing that we would do. Sure we had to go over to another building, fill out some paperwork, but it was totally worth it. Having reading privileges at arguably one of the more exclusive libraries in the country is just a tool I want to have in my Nerd Toolbox. You never know when you're going to need to stand up and shout, "To the library!" For the curious, you do have to apply for the cards in person and they are good for two years. And technically you are supposed have actual research you want to do, but no one asks you about it.
We did a ton of walking, even for me, overall and by Sunday we had to have a slightly shorter day of activities to avoid temporarily crippling our feet so badly we wouldn't be able to even make a show of getting out of the car a couple of times at Manassas. Which we did. Though for me that was easier walking because it's all fields and grass. What really killed me in the city is we did so much walking in buildings with super hard marble floors. That's just so much harder on your feet because there is no give.
In other news, Steve continues to operate on the premise that no wife of his is allowed to keep using the same technology year after year while he's around. In this particular instance, that apparently means not having a two-ish year old phone. So I have an iPhone now as an early birthday present. It still might be too much phone for me, but I have thirty days to try it out and we can send it back if I don't like it. Which we all know probably won't happen. I'm not completely technologically inept, so thirty days from now I'll be totally comfortable with it and wonder how I ever lived without it. Until then, I have to improve my touchscreen skills.
As always, reading quite a bit. A lot of so-so stuff, but a few gems. Trying to get serious about reading more Rushdie, because I keep enjoying him so much. Haroun and the Sea of Stories was a cute little fairytale and Shame was fantastic and the first one of his where the story had me from page one. Usually it takes me a little while to get in. Currently reading Naked Lunch, which is ok, but I think suffers from a similar problem as other "iconoclast" books like Tropic of Cancer, which is what was shocking and taboo back when they were written is borderline quaint now. Well, maybe not quaint, but maybe more like desperate. They are meant to be tough and no-holds-barred, but contemporaneously, they come off flailing for attention about how edgy they are. Marilyn Manson-esque, if you will. Except in this case that means, "Oooh, stark drug use and rampant homosexuality portrayed as deviant and filthy...aren't we daring?" It's meant as satire, but if this is the only exposure a more conservative person gets to drug and/or gay culture, you might not fault them for being a little disturbed. It's like that Onion headline about "Gay-Pride Parade Sets Mainstream Acceptance Of Gays Back 50 Years." On the other hand for satire, Cold Comfort Farm was surprisingly funny. Proving that really all some Rustic Eccentrics novels need is one efficient, sane person.