Spending today getting packed up for the Iowa trip. I even went out and bought myself a new plane-ride tee shirt! The *leetle problem* about this trip is I left it up to TY to make reservations and he picked for our first leg, a plane that leaves at 6:30. That would be AY-EM. Yes, there was also a perfectly acceptable take off later on in the morning but Ole TY is up and at-em very early so we all have to be there with him. Oy. One problem was solved somewhat by asking Nate to come spend the night here the night before rather than having to go pick him up driving all around hell's half acre. The dog I can deliver to her kennel the day before, so that's done.
Now I have to pack up my troubles in my ole kit bag and smile, smile smile.
(The Spike Jones version, 1942)
Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag And smile, smile, smile. Don't let your joy and laughter hear the snag Smile boys, that's the style What's the use of worrying It never was worth while So, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag And smile, smile, smile. (Musical Interlude) Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag And smile, smile, smile. Just pucker up and whistle (Whistle) (Whistling) What's the use of worrying It never was worth while So, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag And smile, smile, smile.
I used to love Spike Jones- back in the mid 40's, my mother would put on the radio for my nap in the afternoon, one of the first portables which was the size of the suitcase I am currently packing, and covered in black embossed leatherette.
My father tried to 'give' me this monstrous thing when I went away to college but I held out for a much smaller version without batteries the size of a Kitchen-Aid stand mixer. Instead I took the typewriter that it took my roommate and I together to lift from under the bed.
Wish I still had this thing- I could disassemble it and ... umm... I dunno, build something I guess! I always typed everything on onionskin paper because I liked the way it looked and felt, though I doubt my professors felt the same way since you could see right through the pages. Until recently I still had my thesis from graduate school, many rambling pages of unreadable Bauhaus practice and theory that took absolutely no room in the files but pretty much disintegrated from lack of care. I tossed it happily knowing that I had access to much better and more accurate information right here on the laptop. What a waste of months.
My father tried to 'give' me this monstrous thing when I went away to college but I held out for a much smaller version without batteries the size of a Kitchen-Aid stand mixer. Instead I took the typewriter that it took my roommate and I together to lift from under the bed.
Wish I still had this thing- I could disassemble it and ... umm... I dunno, build something I guess! I always typed everything on onionskin paper because I liked the way it looked and felt, though I doubt my professors felt the same way since you could see right through the pages. Until recently I still had my thesis from graduate school, many rambling pages of unreadable Bauhaus practice and theory that took absolutely no room in the files but pretty much disintegrated from lack of care. I tossed it happily knowing that I had access to much better and more accurate information right here on the laptop. What a waste of months.And also this is a waste of my time when I should be assembling just the right amount of *stuff* to pack the bag yet till be able to lift the bag! Thanks for letting me drift along to procrastinate a bit more.
2 comments :
LOL I think I started typing on that same typewriter. Then moved along to an IBM and then a cool little portable when I went to college. Sometimes I wish I still had a regular typewriter. Sometimes you just have an urge to pound away on something and hit the return bar, ya know? There is no similar flourish on the return key...
If you see my get up and go running around, I could really use it back please. (and my captcha word is copoott, which must really have a meaning LOL)
The song brought back memories. My dad used to sing it to me when he told me stories of being a sailor in WW2
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