Electronics

Happy Towel Day!

Douglas Adams wrote the amazing Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which spawned TV shows, radio plays and even a movie.

Sadly, he passed away in 2001, on May 11.

So, in memoriam, Froods show their love by carrying their towels on May 25th.

Yes, in other fandoms, May 25th is Star Wars day, as the movie premiered on May 25th, 1977, but as Star Wars fans have May the 4th, I’m fully behind this being Towel Day.

And to fill you in, here is a quote on towels, from the book:

“A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value – you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to- hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you – daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have “lost”. What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.”
Now That Was Something…

As I haven’t had a lobotomy in the last dozen years, I don’t watch the Oscars.

If I wanted to watch people jerk each other off, I’d load up something a little racier…

But the buzz that is happening in the aftermath is that Will Smith slapped Chris Rock for commenting on his wife’s shaved head.

Yup, that happened.

For all the Hollywood rhetoric, his first thought was a slap.

And then didn’t apologize to Rock, but did for the slap.

Well, for anyone who knows me, I am no fan of Will Smith – I like Independence Day, Men in Black, and even Wild Wild West in spite of him. To me, Will Smith plays Will Smith, so he’s not a very good actor.

But, that is my opinion – if you like him, more power to you.

So, once again, Hollywood showed that there is one set of rules for them, one for us peons.

There is talk that this was setup, and maybe it was – they needed something for people to talk about them, and the triumvirate of hosts didn’t inspire me to want to watch, so….

That’s What I Get for 22 Years?

So, I’ve been quiet for a week, as I had something large drop last week, and I’ve been thinking it over for a while.

I have been a member of my local Rotary club since December 9, 1999, so over 22 years.

Over the years, I did what I was supposed to do – be a good member, help out, and then you’ll be asked to do more.

I chaired major fundraisers (and managed to bring music to our stage over a festival weekend, a change that still exists today, despite what other people try to say and try to take the credit for….)

Well, 8 years in, I was asked to serve on the board, and I think I fulfilled the role well, meeting all the goals set out.

And then nothing.

For years.

It got so bad that I opted to work for the district.

Then, as I was 15 years in the club, I volunteered to be club secretary, out of sheer boredom. And I did it for 6 years, leaving as the longest serving secretary in club history.

And then nothing again.

And watched people who have been in the club for less time that me serve as president (2 years, 3 years, 9 years, 12 years less…..) and I can’t even get an invite to the board.

In fact, one the the presidents I worked with as secretary, joined the club 2 months before I did, and was president after being in the club for 15 years.

So, after being in the club for 22 years, and being asked to serve on the board ONCE (remember, I volunteered to be secretary) I decided enough was enough, and put in my intent to resign in April, as I did have some duties to perform at the district level.

Well, last Thursday, as I was driving 250kms north, to bring my kids home for reading week, ahead of a major storm, I get a phone call from a friend that my resignation was announced.

So, that leaves the district struggling to find a replacement for my duties.

And that is, as they say, that.

And now a week later, a total of 4 people (out of 125) have even reached out to me – I guess, in the end, I was never really a member of the club – I was a resource, as I was handy with the A/V system.

So that is how 22 years of service ends.

Superb Owl?

Apparently, there was a sports event recently?

I kid, I know it was the Super Bowl.

But, as I care about as much about the the Super Bowl as I do about a truck full of dead rats at a tampon factory (Top Secret – look it up!), I tend to post things like the picture here.

Well, this year, as I was perusing FB, I came across a link to an article essentially saying “Haha, your Superb Owl posts aren’t funny…..knock it off!”

Well, my first thought was, “And who appointed you to be the boss of all things online?”

Believe it not, people are allowed to have their own opinions, and sorry, but you don’t get to say what is funny or not.

Also, even if you don’t care to believe it, there is much more out there than 2 sets of overpaid athletes fighting over land in a mock land war, to the pleasure of their millionaire owners.

But then, that is just my opinion.