|May 12, 2000
Blame Ed Kaz!
You can blame Ed Kaz for the lack of a new *FootNotes* entry tonight.
As is often the case on Fridays, I had an extra hour (or three) to kill this afternoon, while I waited for my ride home. Ordinarily I use these little windows of opportunity to compose a journal entry: I throw an outline into Notepad, tweak it, save it as a .txt file and e-mail it to myself, then when I get home I finesse it and post it.
Tonight, however, I wound up sitting in my dark quiet office, i.m.'ng with my pal EdmundKaz. Among other things, we discussed the new Burrito Brothers double CD Anthology, Edmund's hysterical Frank Sinatra Jr. interview, bad movies, good friends (and what keeps them that way) ... and, of course, the ongoing state of his D*I*V*O*R*C*E.
It was a fun little chat. It reminded me of all the things I used to love about instant messaging, especially when your conversational partner has quick fingers (and an even quicker brain). Of course, it also reminded me of all the things I hate about instant messaging, including keeping one eye on the doorway at all times. (In this particular instance, making sure that the Vice President of Business and Financial Development -- or, as I like to call him, The VPofBFD -- isn't sneaking up behind me, trying to read over my shoulder. I would be hard-pressed to explain the concept of "OLO'ng" to this guy.)
But now it's nearly time to head for home. It's almost 7 p.m. and David should be calling any minute, telling me to meet him downstairs in front of my building. I'm out of time ... I'm out of *energy molecules* ... I have no journal entry to offer you ... and it's all Ed Kaz' fault.
So write to him and complain.
(And check back this weekend.)