It is a human peculiarity to believe that our lives have great importance. Of course death or disfigurement are real threats that we should consider seriously as we merge into the highway. But, in the the great interstate of history our lives are not going to make a bump. Most of us are road kill. "In a hundred years son, no one will care what we did." Dad spoke with a tremendous voice. So. I'm at the public library again trying to get online to my bank to figure out why my Comcast is on a soft disconnect. But, I'm using a public computer and the bank wants to ask me security questions, which I've forgotten. Meanwhile, Mr. Bernette(I watched him sign in on the library clip board for a computer) is making bird calls: little beep and chirps. I've seen him before. It's not too easy to forget a very annoying Chirp! Does he think this is cute? Maybe he has Touretts. Whatever the cause of his chirping you would think a librarian would tap him on the shoulder an shhh him. They ignored him. I gave up on trying to remember my secret answers.. I walked to my truck and got my magnifying glass to read the microscopic phone number on my bank card. Do these banks seriously believe those tiny numbers are legible? Oh? We're sorry we had a error in your direct deposit. Do you have access to a computer? Fuck No! Well, happy ending I drove down to the nearest Comcast center 40 miles away and made a payment in cash... That's the ticket! I think Mr. Bernette was following me.. I could hear his chirps! He has no idea what I think about his chirping. Well, he would now if he cared to read this blog. But, this is not important. No one cares about the ramblings of a disturb burned out newspaper delivery boy.... . Do they? Nah. |