So... ahem. Yes indeedy. Rage returned to operational status yesterday.

Last night after work, when I got home: "Doh! Need to call Airborne Express." And so I did. Provided the directions to the friendly representative. The package should be dropped off on Monday. Here's hoping. If the words of a fellow content vulture can be trusted, they are a worthy delivery service. Perhaps the address mixup was a fluke. We'll see...

In the meantime, I have plenty of goodness to satisfy my deadtree hunger with the Robin Wood's When, Why ...If. As my mentor (and the book itself) has recommended, I am making an initial pass straight through without stopping. On a second reading (assuming I get that far; a process my mentor warns could be difficult), do the exercises. Should be interesting. Currently on Chapter 5.

Last night, I watched the first "reel" of Woodstock. (Watching the other "reel" will consist of hitting eject, flipping the disc over, closing the tray, and letting the machine work its closed source proprietary super secret magic.)

Interesting stuff. Blast from the past, flower child hippies, acid trips, and all that. Would be nice if the producers of the movie had been a little more conscientious about informing viewers who each of the bands are. Some of them are clearly announced, others mumbled in barely audible tones over the sound system, and others not at all. I guess they just expect everyone to have come out of the womb being innately familiar with the music of the 60s. Hah.

It is pretty cool to see the original footage first hand. Everyone knows the basic idea of what it was (or do they?), but there's nothing quite like seeing it on film capturing those moments in time. I may comment more on it later after seeing the whole thin, or (gasp) getting my movielog stuff working again.

[And at this very moment, a large box arrives.] Signal the troops. The Bawls is HERE!

(Good thing I make it a policy not to post MY address on this web page. Imagine all the random Boulder area caffeine freaks frequenting this page who would be breaking down the doors on this day if they knew. Hahaha. I delude myself sometimes.)

Indeedy. ...

Well, I guess I'm pretty much all rambled out here. It is a morning, after all. The brain is much more conducive to cognitive activities in the evening. In the morning, it's mostly just a pile of cold, ploppy mush. A wonder I even woke up as early as I did. I may rectify that soon. We'll see...