It’s been spring-like for the past week or so, and most of the snow has melted away, headed downriver to various places that don’t want it. It hasn’t been happy spring, though—it’s been April Showers spring weather. We haven’t seen the sun much. I went out the other night to look at the MegaMoon, but she had hid her face modestly behind a burqa of clouds.
Tomorrow the rain is supposed to turn to snow, and they’re promising as much as three inches of the stuff. Sloppy snow, I expect, and it probably won’t be worth blowing out. It shouldn’t last long on the ground. Public opinion is against it.
Tomorrow has turned out to be a strangely packed day in my personal calendar. You have to understand, I lead—by choice—a notably hapless life, if you define “hapless” as nothing happening (which is wrong, but the thought amuses me). My pocket calendar doesn’t usually include more than two or three notations a week.
And yet all kinds of stuff has landed on my Wednesday, March 23 space, as if some temporal sharpshooter placed his bulls-eye on it. First my semi-annual furnace inspection got penciled in, months ago. Then I heard from a former college roommate, who told me his son would be appearing in the role of a schizophrenic drug addict in an episode of Criminal Minds that evening (I stopped watching CM a while back, when they took an unprovoked narrative shot at homeschoolers, but I’m willing to make an exception for a friend’s kid). Then, just yesterday, someone at work invited me to dinner at their house (why I can’t imagine. I guess I’ll videotape the TV show).
But why all this at once?
I expect I’ll still be able to do a blog post, as I’ll spend the afternoon at home, waiting for the furnace guy.
I’ve been selling unwanted books from our bookstore on Amazon for a while now. Last Friday I got an order, accompanied by e-mail requests from the customer, in which he asked for some special services we aren’t able to offer (I’ll stipulate that I didn’t handle that exchange as well as I might have). But I finally promised to get him a Confirmation number from the Post Office, and e-mail it to him on Monday, when I’d be back in the office.
Coming in on Monday, I found that he’d canceled the order (which was a couple days in the mail by then). He told me that my email response to his message showed up in blue lettering (our system always makes the replies blue, to help the readers tell one mailer’s messages from the other’s). He said he considered those blue letters a threat to himself and his home, and so had canceled the order.
Are any of you aware of any scenario in which blue print is a threat to anybody?
He must find links online to be terrifying, which makes it a small wonder that he managed to navigate the web in the first place.
It’s a shame that with the internet we have to force idiots out of their houses to keep ourselves safe from their delusions.
“Are any of you aware of any scenario in which blue print is a threat to anybody?”
Well, the was the Great Blue Letter War in which the Blue Letters invaded, withot warning, the countries of Redonia and Blackia and, from what I’ve heard, committed just horrific atrocities.
Lars, did you already receive the money for the order? I can’t imagine anyone legitimately believing blue letters are threatening.
How can we browse the Amazon store and order your threatening books?
He may have been gaming me. I offered to refund his money, though, and he didn’t ask for that (so far).
Phil, all you do is search through Christian books until you find one offered by FLS Book Nook, and order it.
Perhaps your buyer is a cyanophobe. …
Blue print? No.
Comic Sans? Yes.
Heh.
With the headline “Wednesday Looms,” I expected some word play on the theme of weaving, with the occasional “warp,” “weft,” and “threads” tossed in. Such a wasted opportunity!
Mea culpa.
In “The Hudsucker Proxy,” the Blue Letter represents a top-secret and extremely important communication that sends the most self-confident of mailroom clerks into spasms of quivering missive-terror.
You can actually buy one here: http://goo.gl/pwjAk
And as an editor, I’ve used a blue pencil to destroy writers’ copy.
Neither of these examples is of the least bit of use to you, I know. But it was a nice chatting. So there’s that.