fishing for words

(and tossing out random thoughts)

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maybe not so high speed or low drag now,but the bro’s still got a fan out there

The permanence of the Internet is a funny thing.  For something that’s seemingly fleeting and ever changing, it’s becoming just as much a memorial of words and images as it is a dumpsite.  In general, we don’t police those words and images, allowing them to languish, burning into the collective body of cyberspace.

It’s apparent that my brother hasn’t googled himself lately.  Knowing how, once my brother latched on to it, with his well-known tendency toward self aggrandizement, it’s surprising that his Facebook page, his friends’ and family’s email in boxes, the bulletin board information, and maybe even the refrigerator at home haven’t become a stage for publicizing his veneration on the “Hott Cops” blog.  (Scroll down 20 screens using page down, looking for “this week’s officers,” or use the “find” function in your browser.)  Amazing what a short, unplanned and, ironically, unwanted stint on “COPS” can do.

At least the last name’s spelled correctly, but the selection of one to the photo array of “Hott Cops” becomes a bit questionable when an officer is seemingly selected from each and every episode of “COPS,” “K9 Cops,” “Street Patrol,” and nearly every episode of any police reality show.  If that’s not enough, I’m sure the “Hott Cops” blog writer doesn’t have a high-definition television and missed my bro’s unibrow.

Note:  In the interest of balanced coverage, the TLC channel now offers the 10-part documentary “Policewomen of Broward County,” premiering this Thursday, Aug. 6, 2009.  Set the Tivo or check your local listings.

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ffw to hop a short flight; shaky promise of updates to come

Writing on the road isn’t that easy, and when ranked on a list that includes family, beer and free food, blog posts come dead last. Sure, facilities will be available — serviceable computers at my parents’ home and my bro‘s man cave and his wife’s cute house — but rather than force out mediocre musings, I’ll write when I can and hope it makes sense the next day after heavy editing.

I’ll be winging it north Thursday morning with Sean the Older Son; part of a pact sealed a few years ago and relating to his reaching the legal (alcoholic) drinking age. Countering the idea of that this entails the consumption of mass quantities; the hopeful lesson of this trip will be the appreciation of quality.

It’ll be another 43 hours before we join the herd filling coach seating on an Alaska Airlines 737-900. After one hour and fifty-seven minutes we should be on approach — then a few minutes later the ‘rents will zoom out of leisurely leave Sea-Tac Airport’s cell phone parking lot, hopefully to offer us a seat, instead of the trunk this time, for the ride to Duvall.

With the exception of a neighborhood crawdad boil to which we’ve invited ourselves, there’s no definitive calendar of events for this trip; only a punch list of things to do.

Photographic evidence A photographic diary may be in the offing, and at the very least we’ll take the easy way out to throw a jumble of words and blurry cell phone pics photos on Facebook.

Life is about to take on a welcome hectic pace that comes with cramming a bunch o’ fun into a few days away.

See you on the highway, in the air and eventually on the ground.