Friday, February 24, 2006

CSI: Sensational Acres — Day 26

I got a phone call from Detective Steve yesterday updating me on my burglary case. To summarize: no change. The police are still keeping an eye on the suspect’s house, for all the good it’s doing them, and nobody has seen my laptop. That is all.

In the meantime, I have installed that nifty security system and now need to spend a few minutes this weekend putting the security company stickers and signs up around the Acres.

Best quote of the 2006 Olympics: “I’m biathlon-curious.”

Not much going on this weekend. I’ll probably spend too much time listening to the many podcasts I’ve been downloading: Barenaked Ladies studio chat (which includes sample tracks of new songs they’re recording, a super-ultra-cool thing I wish more bands would do), James Lileks’s Diner, Lost commentary, the Onion’s one-minute faux news, sci-fi writer Cory Doctorow reading his short stories a chapter at a time.

I also really like the video podcast Ask a Ninja, but it takes a while to download, and I’m impatient. Maybe I should subscribe anyway and just relegate the downloading to the wee hours of the night. Yeah, that’ll work.

I’m so enamored of podcasts this week that I’ve actually considered buying the iLife upgrade, which includes built-in podcasting features. But what and why would I podcast? I have a hard enough time thinking up things to write, let alone things to say. Suggestions are most welcome, as always.

Something I meant to mention earlier in the week: This past weekend, the Bobs performed here in town. And I did not go. The Bobs are a schlock-cappella quartet I worshipped in college, enjoyed in grad school, and have occasionally smiled at in the years since. A couple years ago, I did attend a local performance, and last May I saw them, along with uberjugglers the Flying Karamazov Brothers, in Arizona.

But this time around, I took a pass on the Bobs. I haven’t been terribly impressed with them of late and wasn’t willing to spend the time or money to see if anything had changed. I was a little sad about this, as if I’d broken up with an old friend. But not sad enough to leave my cozy abode on a Sunday night and catch the train to the concert.


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