This approach is interesting. I think it's making me a little sharper so far. On top of my picnic table/desk I have 19 coffeetable books, a few days worth of the Bristol Herald Courier (which makes up barely the first two sections of the Sunday NY Times), and a DHL large box, which brings stacks of paper up to about my fourth rib. It's probably not ideal for my neck -- the pile needs to be a little higher -- so I might add another DHL box, or perhaps a FedEx box, just to keep things even.
Of course, my legs get a little tired, but I sure don't want to revisit the near-paralysis of last week. If I'm sitting, I'm supposed to stand and walk around and stretch every 20 minutes or so, but this weekend we are going to a friend's postwedding party near Chapel Hill, about 3.5 to
Indexing thus is a pain, literally and figuratively, and I have three to do in the next week or two. I'm about 2/3rds through one, but have put it on hold; 1/3rd through another, which I started working on by marking entries in the margins -- another new approach, but really only possible because the publisher wants a light index; and on the third, it looks like it's not that academic, so hopefully, it won't be so hard to get through rather quickly. Oh, and there's a fourth as well, which is really more of an update of an older edition's index. The authors and publisher were happy with the first edition, so they mostly want me to update page numbers and write entries for new material. Sounds easy enough, and it's more of a practical than an academic book, so maybe I can sit through it without dreading it too badly.
I heard there was an election this week. Did anything interesting happen? Actually, I worked at the polls handing out "sample ballots" for about five hours on Tuesday morning, which was nice, because I was standing up the whole time. I appear to now be facing a life operating against the credo of my dear deceased Aunt Muriel: "I am never standing up when I could be sitting down, and I am never sitting down when I could be laying down." I guess if I had spent more time laying down, I wouldn't have been to the chiropractor. It's the middle step that's troublesome.
The local congressman ran unopposed here. He is a wildly popular Democrat in a largely Republican district; to give an idea, the Obama folks worked their butts off here hoping to get 35 percent, and the local Democratic representative ran unopposed. I am considering saving my pennies and running against him (or, more precisely, just putting my name on the ballot) as a Republican in 2010. I would pony up the fee and do absolutely no campaigning. I'd answer any questions the media asked me, probably going against the Republican Party line on most issues. But I figure if I'm on the ballot as a Republican in this district, I'm pulling 30 percent right off the bat just for being there, even against a very popular congressman. I'd probably lose half of that once people figured out who I was and especially if they bothered to read what I thought, but hell, how many people ever get 15 percent in the ballot box running for Congress? Could the Republicans disown me if I qualified to run in their primary and ran unopposed? I just don't like seeing no choice on the ballots. Never have. I might even get a few votes just for chutzpah, but first I'd have to define chutzpah for the locals. And should I run as a long-hair or a bullet-head? Choices, choices.
Back to work. Plowing (standing up) through a too-long tome about the ins and outs of being a landlord.
Please don't put a price on my soul.
My burden is heavy,
My dreams are beyond control.
When that steamboat whistle blows,
I'm gonna give you all I got to give,
And I do hope you receive it well,
Dependin' on the way you feel that you live.
Please heed these words that I speak.
I know you've suffered much,
But in this you are not so unique.
All of us, at times, we might work too hard
To have it too fast and too much,
And anyone can fill his life up
With things he can see but he just cannot touch.
Please don't dismiss my case.
I'm not about to argue,
I'm not about to move to no other place.
Now, each of us has his own special gift
And you know this was meant to be true,
And if you don't underestimate me,
I won't underestimate you.
Copyright ©1968; renewed 1996 Dwarf Music
Boy, those lyrics hit the mark.
PS: Alaska, thanks for checking in on the blog. Now I'm just waiting on Russia. Ukraine, Kiev . . . come on, you wacky Muscovites. What's a guy gotta do?