Harold Pinter must be smiling somewhere in The Hereafter.
On Sunday, the ever-positive Babs announced in "First Theft in Thirty Five Years" that -- just as the title indicates -- she had suffered her first theft after doing business or living in Mexico for the past 35 years. She left her vehicle unlocked on the streets of San Miguel de Allende, and someone stole a book of her CDs (with some hard-to-replace items), a cell phone charger, and a set of brake pads.
She took the loss in stride -- exactly as we would all expect Babs to react.
But we bloggers are not about to let a lady in distress rest in her acceptance that things just do not matter. There are gentlemen present. Knights errant. Sir Walter Raleighs with puddles aplenty, even if imagined.
Take a look at the comments. I think this is the largest number of comments I have seen on Babs's blog. It is almost as if a Pinter play has come alive in front of our eyes.
In their desire to help the princess in her tower, the comment conversation morphs from the ability to find replacement CDs, to the virtues of MP3 files, to the inferiority of MP3 files, to random accusations of insanity, to long dissertations on how audio files reproduce sound, and a random list of celebrities met that would make a great episode of the Ed Sullivan Show. It is a hoot to read.
Mind you, I stick in my two pesos worth along with two of my favorite hombres: John Calypso and Michael Dickson.
I am now chuckling at my involvement in the discussion as a critic of the quality of MP3 files. I sit here typing while listening to music on a newly-found web site (the radio.com) that has some of the most highly-compressed files I have ever heard (or not heard). Go figure.
But there is a lesson here. Just like riding in a car, if there is one man and one woman, the man will almost immediately admit: "I have no idea what's wrong." But put three men and one woman in the same predicament, and the men will spend hours competing for a solution before admitting: "I have no idea what's wrong."
Thanks, Bab, for hosting another proof that men will never turn down a potential problem-solving adventure -- all with the best intentions.
On Sunday, the ever-positive Babs announced in "First Theft in Thirty Five Years" that -- just as the title indicates -- she had suffered her first theft after doing business or living in Mexico for the past 35 years. She left her vehicle unlocked on the streets of San Miguel de Allende, and someone stole a book of her CDs (with some hard-to-replace items), a cell phone charger, and a set of brake pads.
She took the loss in stride -- exactly as we would all expect Babs to react.
But we bloggers are not about to let a lady in distress rest in her acceptance that things just do not matter. There are gentlemen present. Knights errant. Sir Walter Raleighs with puddles aplenty, even if imagined.
Take a look at the comments. I think this is the largest number of comments I have seen on Babs's blog. It is almost as if a Pinter play has come alive in front of our eyes.
In their desire to help the princess in her tower, the comment conversation morphs from the ability to find replacement CDs, to the virtues of MP3 files, to the inferiority of MP3 files, to random accusations of insanity, to long dissertations on how audio files reproduce sound, and a random list of celebrities met that would make a great episode of the Ed Sullivan Show. It is a hoot to read.
Mind you, I stick in my two pesos worth along with two of my favorite hombres: John Calypso and Michael Dickson.
I am now chuckling at my involvement in the discussion as a critic of the quality of MP3 files. I sit here typing while listening to music on a newly-found web site (the radio.com) that has some of the most highly-compressed files I have ever heard (or not heard). Go figure.
But there is a lesson here. Just like riding in a car, if there is one man and one woman, the man will almost immediately admit: "I have no idea what's wrong." But put three men and one woman in the same predicament, and the men will spend hours competing for a solution before admitting: "I have no idea what's wrong."
Thanks, Bab, for hosting another proof that men will never turn down a potential problem-solving adventure -- all with the best intentions.
