The first pass through the translation is complete, which is a good thing, as the fellow who was helping Drew in the store the past few weeks won't be there tomorrow (or was that "starting tomorrow"? I guess I'll find out when I show up for work at the store tomorrow).
Picture this: A service counter with two customer areas (call 'em "windows"). One has a big sign sitting in it, reading "This window closed, please use next window" and an arrow pointing to the other area. I have placed some boxes behind the sign. I am standing behind the counter at the other area as a customer walks in. There is nobody else in the store. There are no objects before me on the counter.
Can someone please explain why said customer might walk up to a small piece of counter real estate next to the sign, put their stuff on said small piece of countertop and ask me to serve them?
And for some reason, I felt positively embarassed to ask the person to move over to where I was! (Mostly, I suppose, because I would've prefaced my request with something like, "Hey, you dumb $#!%...," but I digress.)
* * * Drew invited me over for dinner tonight, as Shannon and Huntür were out attending a "graduation" of some cousin or other. (I find it difficult to speak of "graduations" from pre-school activities. I think the use of the term dilutes its meaning, but that's just me, I guess.)
We had a nice, if informal meal, and we watched a few minutes of an old Cosmos episode, a Carl Sagan classic updated with some new material (I recognized some Hubble images).
* * * Speaking of diluted meanings, back in January, I picked up an el-cheapo DVD of some old Lone Ranger television shows. Last night, I finally watched it, and was thoroughly entertained.
The disk featured, among other tales, a three-part story explaining the origins of the Lone Ranger (including that of the monicker "Kemo Sabe" used by his "faithful Indian companion" Tonto) and viewed in the cold, gray light of modern times, the plot, characters, and dialog were two-dimensional and corny as all get-out, though it was the kind of corn that we modern, sophisticated types might probably benefit from if it were around today.
Maybe that's why Clayton Moore, who played the title role, went on for years after the show left the air, making public appearances as a sort of ambassador of what the Ranger stood for: fairness, loyalty, dedication, and a willingness to help others (especially those who have been wronged, without crossing the line into vigilantism).
Wow. I'm finished for the day and it's still only 9 pm. I feel the urge to giggle.
Cheers...
Picture this: A service counter with two customer areas (call 'em "windows"). One has a big sign sitting in it, reading "This window closed, please use next window" and an arrow pointing to the other area. I have placed some boxes behind the sign. I am standing behind the counter at the other area as a customer walks in. There is nobody else in the store. There are no objects before me on the counter.
Can someone please explain why said customer might walk up to a small piece of counter real estate next to the sign, put their stuff on said small piece of countertop and ask me to serve them?
And for some reason, I felt positively embarassed to ask the person to move over to where I was! (Mostly, I suppose, because I would've prefaced my request with something like, "Hey, you dumb $#!%...," but I digress.)
We had a nice, if informal meal, and we watched a few minutes of an old Cosmos episode, a Carl Sagan classic updated with some new material (I recognized some Hubble images).
The disk featured, among other tales, a three-part story explaining the origins of the Lone Ranger (including that of the monicker "Kemo Sabe" used by his "faithful Indian companion" Tonto) and viewed in the cold, gray light of modern times, the plot, characters, and dialog were two-dimensional and corny as all get-out, though it was the kind of corn that we modern, sophisticated types might probably benefit from if it were around today.
Maybe that's why Clayton Moore, who played the title role, went on for years after the show left the air, making public appearances as a sort of ambassador of what the Ranger stood for: fairness, loyalty, dedication, and a willingness to help others (especially those who have been wronged, without crossing the line into vigilantism).
Wow. I'm finished for the day and it's still only 9 pm. I feel the urge to giggle.
Cheers...