Gigashmirtz

Two Old People Talk About Computers

What kind of computer did you get?

A white one.

Ohhh.  How many....you know...thingy's does it have?

Thingy's? 

You know....

Ummm....hand flaps?

No...jeesh....

Sarcastic non-words?  OH, puffed out cheeks....no?  Eyerolls?  Do you want to know how many eyerolls it has?

MEMORIES!

You want to know how many memories it has?  Well there was this one time in '64 when it joined a commune...

MEMORY...how much memory does it have?

Oh.  Five. 

Five?  It has five memory. 

No?  Um, six.  Yeah, six or seven memories. 

How many giga-whatzies does it have?

Oh, Gigashmirtz?  Lots. 

I don't think gigashmirtz are real things. 

Sure they are.  There are like a million gigashmirtz in a megashmirtz.  Something like that.

Gigashmirtz? 

Yup, and megashmirtz. 

You need to stop saying that or it's going to stick in our addled brains and we're going to repeat it in polite company.

Gigashmirtz.  Ok, that was the last time. 

Are you going to blog this conversation?

Mmm, I would but I 'm pretty sure it would take up too many gigashmirtz. 

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

This Really Happened...

...and since there is no photographic evidence, I have recreated it using my fine artistic skills. 

Here you go. 

I was putting on boots....

My foot hit something sock-ish....
so I reached in to pull it out....

It was kind of squishy and...warm.  No, it couldn't be....could it?

I shook the boot and the something fell out...it was a mouse.  ***

And this is why I can never put shoes on again without shaking them.  Thank you, Thomas. 

 

***Some dramatic license was taken in this recreation.  For example, the mouse was much larger and he wasn't carrying a knife.  I'm pretty sure it was a gun, but I don't know how to draw a gun. 

Thank you for listening,

Lisa

I'm a Believer....

In 1982 at 7:00 in the morning on Saturdays, before the cartoons began on network TV, they ran old episodes of the Monkees.  I was 12 and because I am prone to obsession, I became obsessed with Davy, Mickey, Peter and Mike.  My mother told me the show had been popular when she had been in high school and they weren't that young anymore.  I didn't care.  My class gift when I graduated high school was a plastic monkey.   I don't remember the poem, but it was something about being obsessed with Davy Jones and the Monkees.  This was 1988, I was weird.  Wait, we may have already determined that. 

In 1984, they had a reunion tour and my mother dropped me and my cousin off at the Bangor Auditorium on a cold winter afternoon.  The Monkees were my very first concert.  We wrote "We Love You Davy" in the snow outside their tour bus.   

I'm terribly sad.  Goodbye Davy.  We Love You. 


****Update:  Ok, I found the poem and the monkey.  The poem goes like this:  "Since Lisa liked the Monkees for the last year or two this stuffed monkey we give to you."  The tense is a little off and I remember being disappointed that this was what I was remembered for.  I mean of all the quirky things I did, they give me a plastic monkey?  It wasn't stuffed.  That was wrong too. 

Oh and I found the program.  It was 1986, not 1984.  I was 16. 

Still sad.