Rick Rossovich

Rick Rossovich

My life so far.


Gadget Man

Stream of ConsciousnessPosted by Rick 2008-10-19 01:59PM
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Gadget Man arrived today bearing gifts. Roy swung by mid-day and had a present tucked under his arm for me. Wrapped in Sundays Real Estate newsprint was something for the guy who abhors gifts of any kind, until I recieve them and then I don’t feel worthy.
I was busy putting the sub-floor in Izzy’s entry as Eva was giving her a life drawing class. They were doing a study of a nude photo I’d taken of Eva last week . Isabel has Eva’s natural gift it seems, when it comes to drawing. Everything came to a halt and Eva sorta teared up because I was getting something. I never want anything, I have everything. I’m grateful beyond measure. Eva and the kids know not to buy anything for me because I don’t want anymore. That is until I go temporarily insane and buy a building or something crazy like a Glass House for the farm. I can always rationalize that kind of stuff for some reason.
Anyway tucked under my sons arm was a MacBook Pro. I was floored and now I’m typing on it and loving the step-up from Eva’s PC. I wrote a previous post on it and lost it when I was tapping my finger too much. This will be fun, this new machine and having Roy to guide us through it will be the kicker. He’s expert when it comes to technology. His brain and fingers work like mine do for bricks and mortar. It’s amazing how the gene pool adapts.
Thank you Roy, I love you

  • Comments(1)

Posted by WestOfRome 2008-10-20 03:09PM

The lost little boy in the back of the room raged.  He wanted to believe again, to find a way back, he wanted an answer.  Standing alone at the podium, a simple, mediocre gentleman, regarded him for a long moment, then offered.  “Why does the Indian rain dance always work?”  The query turned the boy’s mind into a mad dance of insects beneath a summer streetlight.  The boy demanded, pleaded, he wanted, he needed, for once, just once, an answer.  The gentleman cast his to the floor, then asked once more.  “Why does the Indian rain always work?”  The boy took a half step toward the door, not wanting to waste another precious moment, but shot back sarcastically instead.  “I don’t know.  Why?  Why does the Indian rain dance always work?”   The gentleman looked up at the boy, and gave to him his answer...  “Because they don’t stop dancing...  Until it rains.”


Love you Pig.