Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
American Digest: And I like this from "The Blog That Nobody Reads", because it is -- mostly -- about me. What can I say? I'm on an ego trip today. It won't last.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Dr. Melissa Clouthier: Morgan Freeberg at House of Eratosthenes (pftthats a mouthful) honors big boned women in skimpy clothing. The picture there is priceless--keep scrolling down.
Exile in Portales: Via Gerard: Morgan Freeberg, a guy with a lot to say. And he speaks The Truth...and it's fascinating stuff. Worth a read, or three. Or six.
Just Muttering: Two nice pieces at House of Eratosthenes, one about a perhaps unintended effect of the Enron mess, and one on the Gore-y environ-movie.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
The Virginian: I know this post will offend some people, but the author makes some good points.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
So I’m debugging code or doing a review or running regression tests or whatever…and on my desk I’ve got this little electronic photo frame. I’ve managed to press nearly three thousand images on this 1GB chip, you see, so it takes awhile to cycle through them all. This picture my girlfriend took on one of our vacations came up, from last year, and I realized I saw it somewhere before. And not recently. A very long, long time ago.
At lunch, I tracked down the picture and attached it to an e-mail to my Dad, which read in part:
Seems to me there is a picture of Grandpa Freeberg, identical in activity, profile angle, mood, et al, from a few decades previous. It would be interesting to see the two of them side by side.
Dad came through, and the result had me just howling with laughter.
Although I must say, since I’m approaching the tender age of 44 this week, I am chagrined at the resulting comparison in the old-man-nose department. It almost looks to me like the gentleman in the color photo has the more impressive schozz, which is not where my expectations were going and not at all in keeping with my memories. Must have picked something up from Mom’s side of the tree. The males in her family always seemed to have noses like sides of beef hanging in a locker.
Other than that, there’s not much difference is there?
Update: Just remembered, Bessie was retired from service to the mobility needs of Yours Truly in early ’08. I’m reasonably sure I put more miles on the old girl than Grandpa put on the Packard, but that isn’t the point. I consult the JPEG header of the image and see it came from the girlfriend’s last camera, 10/2/06 11:51 a.m. This is among the first of many trips to Mendocino by way of Clear Lake. We have been nurturing an old dream, all but abandoned, to leap out of bed at oh-dark-hundred and whittle through that leg quickly. We are geographically wiser now — ya wanna get there early, just leave early. I think our record for speed on this trip is something altogether syrupy and unimpressive, seven hours one-way or something in that neighborhood.
The next shot is 19 minutes later and it shows us approaching Williams which is where the turn-off is. So this must be headed North on I-5 between Woodland and Zamora. No idea where Grandpa is. Ask Dad.
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Our noses grow throughout our lives. Grandpa was clearly older at the time. You can see the rounder end dipping down, while yours still has a slight upward angle, even.
Why are people so self conscious about noses?
Probably the same reason there are so many songs about rainbows.
We get old. Our noses grow. Eh. Long nose or die? Bring on the nose.
- philmon | 07/16/2010 @ 20:33Striking similarities in the shot, though. You are grandpa’s boy.
- philmon | 07/16/2010 @ 20:34[…] then of course there are the adventures of Grandpa Freeberg. He was the foreman of the local lumber mill, and was, therefore, management. So he crossed the […]
- House of Eratosthenes | 09/06/2010 @ 17:12