Today my son, Isaiah wore a shirt that was my favorite when I was a little boy!

My dad had one just like it. Well, just like it but a lot bigger. I remember how much fun it was for us (me, anyway, you'll have to ask my dad how he felt about it) to wear our matching shirts.

In case you aren't sure, that little picture over there is the very shirt of which I speak. A little super-70s shirt with a picture of a condor carrying an old car on it. There's just something delightful about that image- a kind of surreal silliness that would appeal to any child. The very kind of surreal silliness that delights me to this day. Isaiah is a lot like me in many ways. He loves the shirt too.

I wish I had one in my size. Uh, hey, Dad...

My arms itch as I type this.

Our local PBS station has been showing 'Allo 'Allo, one of my favorite britcoms. It's a touch on the risqué side, but it is hilarious. Anyway, they recently restarted the highly episodic series from the beginning and I have been taping it.

The thing is, though, that lately our reception of the aforementioned PBS station has been slowly degrading and when I tuned in tonight there was almost nothing but static. Since I installed the TV antenna myself, I had a strong suspicion of the source of the image quality reduction...

So, up the stairs I went. I checked the guest room (the junk/chaos room) but I couldn't find the stepladder. Undeterred, and possessed by a spirit of unflappability, I climbed up the shelves of the linen closet to get into the attic in which the antenna is installed. What? No, it's fine inside the attic- I got the one especially for interior installation.

Once my head had crossed into the arctically chilly region of the unheated attic far enough for me to reach for the attic light switch, I realized I didn't have any shoes on. Traversing the attic, which has no flooring but does have Fiberglas^TM insulation, would require scuttling along with knees and elbows on ceiling joists.

I scuttled over, adjusted the antenna, turned off the light, and climbed down. Fortunately, my perfect touch and vast experience (that's Roger-ese for dumb luck) were on par today and the picture was, although not quite perfect, as good as I have ever seen it.

Just as the show came on, my arms started to itch.

Today's Picture
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