We Are All God’s Children (And God’s the Biggest Kid of All)

Hello, sports fans!  How ya goin’, mate, as they say in Oz?  I’m jumping up and down in my seat because I’ve just received some good news.  That is that my computer hasn’t been destroyed by a virus.  I thought for a moment it had.  When my wife Jina turned it on this morning to try out the new auxiliary hard-drive whatchamajiggy (pardon the technical jargon), there was no response, just a white screen, as if the monitor were made out of snow (futuristic idea for the tiny sculptors of tomorrow; after all, if he have Disney movies about anthropomorphic cars–what could be wackier!  much cuter than silly old animals).

Jina panicked, thinking the computer was fried.  I shrugged, writing it off as another loss in a life chock-full of them, a veritable Everest of ever-accumulating disappointments.  Some lazy instinct prevailed over the rage that no doubt would have ensued had I been the one to turn on the computer instead of her; also, her consternation enabled me to play the part of the placating partner, and to make mental calculations on how to milk her guilt while it lasted.

All smugness aside, that which may have been generated by a regular meditation regimen, I probably didn’t think the contraption was on the fritz anyway; otherwise I might have lost it and started blubbering like a fire plug.  Besides, the aforementioned doodad, which we’d just received in the mail yesterday, along with a handful of other items Jina had ordered online–an electric mixer (the invention formerly known as eggbeaters), a jumbo jug of shampoo, some cookie cutters, a heating pad, and an inkjet printer–promised to increase the computer’s web-surfing speed by ten times!  What are we going to do with all the time saved?  Oh, I don’t know, maybe–SURF THE INTERNET?

It occurred to me that the whiteness we were witnessing on the screen may have just been the blur of the increased surfing speed, and the computer was on automatic pilot or cruise control, giving our tired fingers a badly-needed rest, a break from being broken.

Now, alas, I must truncate this entry as Jina needs my help in preparing cookies for our little students.  I promise I’ll resume gibbering at my earliest convenience.

Ciao, and cheers.

P. S.  Jina, who has (slightly) more patience with inanimate objects than I do (even though I have more patience with people, so we’re even), took the time to read the manual that came with the memory drive device, and figured out how to bring the computer back to life.  Hosanna!  The Lord is risible–er, risen!


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