This Brooklyn is just a figment of my imagination, like a movie with some
stock footage of Brooklyn and most of the action on sets. It has been a
12-hour day in a strange location. I even worked through lunch. I’m not
disappointed, it was pretty much what I expected when got the news that I’d
be here.
It was probably even worse for Twyla and Claudette. They’ve spent this time
locked in the master bedroom while tiles are being replaced in the shower.
Liz has been feeding them and reported that she saw a gray paw reaching out
from under the bedroom door just before she left. They are in the very place
where they would be hiding anyway if a stranger came over while I was gone,
but then it’s a matter of choice. Liz said last night she let them come into
the bathroom while she rinsed some things and Claudette crawled into the
bathtub (this is the other bathroom) and peered into the toilet bowl,
perhaps looking for me.
At least she knows where my head is. The technical problem we worked on
today has no easy answer, but at least we are now certain what the problem
is. I won’t go into details, but it there’s a proverbial nail missing on a
USB horse’s shoe.
Late in the day, the guy whose hardware has to ride on that horse came into
the lab and announced that the Staten Island Ferry had crashed. Isolated
from news all day, it seemed strange that the biggest story happened just
miles away. Later in the evening, there were a lot of people in the
restaurant (where a portabella/chicken quesadilla became the highlight of my
personal day) because of re-routed traffic. There were Red Sox fans there
for real this time, maybe even outnumbering the Yankees fans. Unlike the
Cubbies, the Yankees get to play another day. It’s probably just another
part of some divine but sinister plot to string out false hopes of losers
everywhere. If the Yankees don’t win tonight, the Red Sox will lose to the
Florida Marlins who have an established record as destroyers of dreams. Look
at their victims: This year, the Braves and Cubs, a few years back, my
beloved Cleveland Indians. A team begat by Wayne Huizenga can only be
regarded as an instrument of evil. What wind blew you hither, Wayne?
5:08:06 AM 
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