War of the Worlds

I just saw War Of The Worlds aka Two Hours of Tom Cruise closeups. And I'm scared. Not of Tom, but of the aliens. Because I am pretty sure I've killed some of their tiny babies here in central Texas. If they looked like Tom, then the threshold would be raised.

BTW: "Dakota Fanning" should be the name of a pitcher in the American League, not a darn good child actress.

Movie magic is alive and well. What effects! What sounds!

Incidentally, here's a social note for guys - if you have to pass gas, wait till the tripod thingies show up - they give a blast like a flatulent cruise ship - it's long enough to hide the beaniest boompah.

On another matter, once again I outsmarted myself. If only I could get a job doing this! But then I'd probably convince myself to work for peanuts with long hours. This time, I figured, if the fireworks stands were offering 11free for 1bought BEFORE the 4th of July, imagine what I could get AFTER! But no, Bob, the fireworks have been packed away till late December. Darn!

But business obviously was good - we saw more fireworks EVERYWHERE than anywhere we've been till now. Last night we visited some friends, and as we left, there were little kids setting off things my parents would have grounded me for, for life!

As we drove away the ashes swept over the windshield, like snow.

On another another matter, for no reason I can understand, in a nostalgic fit, I went looking for old acquaintances from my days in Montreal and found three of them via internet. Here's the amazing part: when we worked together we were all the same age AND STILL ARE. Every one of us said I CAN'T BELIEVE WE ARE THIS OLD. Age is something I've noted over the years. It's like dew in the morning. There, but soon forgotten. I recently met a new homeowner here, I'd estimate his age in the 30s. I said something like, "good to meet you - can't wait till you move in, I need someone to get into trouble with..." and he was taken aback. Kids!