We are none of us infallible--not even the youngest of us

I rode out my first nor'easter in a Boston hotel room. The storm snuck in on a whimper, dusted the joint with snow, and then slunk off quietly. I was a little disappointed not to see more snow and fury, as I have always enjoyed a good storm.

My favorite was the one to the left. We went through it in the winter of 1999 in the South China Sea. We broke the ship in a couple of places by going through that one. Mostly though, I sit in my garage, porch, or yard swing and watch thunderstorms roll in. It is one of my pleasures in life.

But the nor'easter-NOT was just what it was. A product of the overactive minds of local news stations, whipping up interest. We get the same thing in Florida. We got the same thing in Mississippi...and North Carolina...and California. Breathless local weather folks and their studio counterparts, speculating how "this bad boy is gonna blow the white right off the rice, it's that honking big and/or strong." Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't. But "wait and see" has never sold ad time.

Don't do winter gracefully, so I have not been anywhere this trip. Took a hotel at the airport and didn't bother with a car. I use the Hertz shuttle to get back and forth. Or at least I will until they figure out that I ride a lot but never seem to rent a car. I have a train station about a hundred yards from the hotel, so if I needed to get somewhere, I could. But mostly, just been utilizing the kitchenette for dinner and watching TV. Idol is on again. And Survivor started up last night. Tonight is the opening celebration of the Winter Olympics. And Sunday, although unless something horrific happens with the airline schedules I will be home, the new season of Amazing Race starts.

I love The Amazing Race, but hate the fall season of it because of 60 Minutes. Because no matter how long a football game goes, CBS insists on showing the entire 60 Minutes show before they will start prime time. So you never know exactly when it will start. It's a pain.

Well here's something I never expected I would write. One thing I like about the Boston area is that they have mild franks. Not only are they mild, they are quite soft. In the south we have hot dogs. Some say "all beef". Those are made with beef, though it may be better not to ask what parts. Some say "chicken". Those are made from chickens, and again we do not delve. Some just say "hot dogs". Those are made with who knows what. You eat those with ketchup, mustard, and a conscious effort not to think about ingredients. Most upsetting mental visual for me is the "mechanically seperated chicken". All I can think of is a giant washing machine-like contraption, bucking and spinning, with feathers, legs, and beaks a'flying. And the machine has an evil grin.

Anyway, this is what I liked. They don't make me burp. Since there is no picture (OK, there were pictures, but none large enough to use) available on google images, just suffice yourself with the below description.

Since 1883, Schonland's Franks and Sausages have graced the grills and tables of Northern New Englanders. A tradition of quality and attention to detail in providing the best tasting franks and sausage has been the hallmark of Schonland's and the reason for its sucess.

I love my titles. I think one day I should try to have them at least marginally have something to do with the post. But until they do, and I offer no promises as to when or even if that will happen, treat them like I do, as random quotes.

Well, this has been useless. Sorry for the 5 minutes that you will never get back. But there was a cool storm picture. And it was real. So a little living vicariously through me action going on there. That's something.

Nietsche is Pietsche, out

Ramblin' Ed