The cyclops

Sorry for the delay, everyone. It's hard to update a blog when you're bumming around Boston with family and friends--my mistake! And Tony, while I appreciate your comments, I have yet to figure out how to add links/pictures/google translators to my blogging page. Advice and comments on that score would be appreciated.

As I write this, I can hear the sounds of my wife getting dinner ready and feel the breeze on the back of my neck. We have a cartoon stove that heats up when's it's angry--of course, smoke comes out of its front as well. So, pardon me while I take a break to eat dinner. . . .

Ok, that was a MUCH longer break than anticipated. We found ourselves, after eating a wonderful cream-of-broccoli soup dinner, mesmerized by the all-seeing eye of our television set. I may be the only one to have experienced this, but it seems as though once you start watching something, and after you've had a long day at work, your arms become lead weights and your brain shuts off and your just sit there and are . . . entertained!

The price you pay, of course, is lost time--time that has left you without any real memories, only who sang what song on American Idol, and what imaginary terrorist was thwarted on 24. When I'm an old man, maybe I'll remember myself as the one who sang to an audience of applauding terrorists and CIA agents. Then again, maybe not.

I had another interesting experience after the brain turned back on. I'm not sure if it's that I'm blogging now, or that I just haven't been using the writing part of my brain, but I get slightly panicky when I think about having to write these entries. That's probably why I keep slipping into the introspective (oops! there I go again! Bad Billy!) . . . Anyway, your patience as I work out this underused muscle is appreciated. And with that, I say, good night!