Wolfs Down Bear Claws
2 July 1999
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Wolfs Down Bear Claws
2 July 1999
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8:50 PM: I seem to have finished much earlier than I expected to. Now I'm at sixes and sevens. Everyone is gone, most people have been gone since before I got here today at 2. And so OK, sure, there's a twinge of creep in being the only person at work at 8 o'clock on the Friday night of the Fourth of July weekend. But I like it when no one's here. And not just because I can play my cow orker's undamaged copy of Death in Vegas really loud. Mostly but not just.
"SIXES AND SEVENS : in a state of confusion
This phrase dates from the time when two of London's Livery Companies (mediaeval Trade Union for employers) could not decide whether they were sixth or seventh in order of precedence and age. The two livery companies concerned were the Merchant Taylors and the Skinners. Both these companies received their Charters within a few days of each other in 1327 so in order to decide this problem the two companies asked the Mayor and Alderman to solve it. It was decided that each of the two livery companies should take alternative turns in taking precedence at processions and dinners etc. This still happens to this day."You know, if they would just rename the classes something like, "How to Fuck About on the Web", our schools would be churning out little researchers like there was no tomorrow. Which there isn't, so we'd better get to it, eh?
A lazy day all around, and I loved it. No alarm clock. Stop for bagels and tea before going to work. Finish entire copy of New York Times. Wait for MUNI without the slightest concern. And then when we came out of the tunnel - !!
Tall ships!! The whole Bay was filled with sailboats, including a couple three-masted ships. I guess they'd been coming in for a while, or had just started, or something, but even one so totally unexpectedly was great. Those things are huge, too! Moving only by wind. So strange. So I guess people will still race Mustangs in the future. Old tech has that kind of mysterious power.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne. | ||||
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