Wednesday

Sept 5, 2001

shark attacks

Lots of them in the news, those shark attacks. If you swim in the ocean, you have probably a one in millions chnace of getting bitten by a shark. Is it a higher risk than getting struck by lightning on a golf course or killed in a plane wreck if you pay a green fee or buy an airline ticket? We think we can control every risk. Yes, we do. Of course, you can be sure that you aren't bitten by a shark. Unless your plane goes down over the ocean, I guess. Lots of random chances, random things lead to the time and place where you give it up.

Saw an article about a guy who was struck by lightning on a golf course. (Happens there more than other places, probably. Out in the open. Too stupid to come in out of the rain. That's what comes to mind. Tennis players quit when it rains. Usually.)

People will die. In accidents. Or otherwise. I don't know why I'm on this tack. It's insenstive to use sharks in adverstising, though. Enough said there.

I have to go to work early to listen to phone-in conference calls. One after another.

At work, I should feel great. Someone has shown some leadership. I'm glad of that. But somehow I just feel the best of my efforts in this area have been left behind. Maybe I got too far out of my bailiwick. Too far away from what I'm good at.

The phone meetings weren't too bad. I worked pretty industiously on my least favorite project. And, of course, I had lunch. Brick Oven. A small salad slathered with shredded mozzarella cheese and blue cheese dressing. Big flat pasta and chicken in a creamy spicy sauce. A piece of garlic bread as big as my head. I didn't finish the bread.

After work, I went home and we went to Westwood for dinner. We watched Capriati's match on the bar TV while having roasted garlic on goat cheese toasts. I ate a tuna steak salad while Agassi and Sampras began squaring off.

Before the first set ended, we went to Four Seasons. I predicted Sampras would win. He eventually did but boy was it close!

At Four Seasons we talked to a couple of gals celebrating a birthday, Jerry Harris ("Jerry is the mayor of the Four Seasons," someone said, introducing him to a State Senator.), the piano player, Rebecca Ryan and her boyfriend.

We left at a decent hour, maybe 10 or 10:30 and went straight to bed at home. Aren't we exciting?

still life of fruit

Meta: I have thought for a while about putting a 'one year ago' comment and button on the page. It's the WEB, it's all about linking, right? But the entries a year older than this one are depressingly bad. And they lead up to a big gap in the writing while I was on business trips. In fact, the writing one year ago so depressed me that I considered once again stopping this nonsense. I'm a lousy writer and I have nothing to say either is what the voice in my head is saying. I did discover from the review, though, that I actually did know who this character Safin was in the U.S. Open. Last year I commented in my journal when he won!

JUST TYPING

Bailiwick, yeah. A buddy of mine and I once discussed naming a software company Bailiwick Software. It was a pun on his middle and last name and a word I liked. There is a www.bailiwick.com.It's a page to sell you things like Viagra and honeymoons. What a waste. It's one of those pages, in fact, that advertises to you over and under and that make it hard to get rid of them. It's going to get to the point that I don't randomly click on sites I don't already know. The other day, one started music that I couldn't stop. Seriously. I couldn't find the task. I took the browser down. Still music. I felt violated. And this was an ebay trader, I think.