Ever since I started living in the Cleveland area I noticed that my watch was running a little slow. I hoped it was just the battery because I really liked that watch. But a new battery did not fix the problem. So I dug out an old watch I had used several watches ago, another Swiss Army watch that had never given me a problem. I loaded a new battery, wore it for a few weeks... and noticed that it too ran slow.

Steve has a theory about the space-time continuum being altered by atmospheric filtering caused by all the dietary fiber radiated from the broccoli-rabe cooking process. It's a variation on string theory -- he expects a Nobel prize for it, but the best he'll get is a box of torrone and subscription to Scientific American.

Be that as it may, I decided to go to Macys last night and get myself a local timepiece -- something that would work within the peculiarities of this time zone. Got myself a nice digital jobber. Went into the mall and got some shoes too (a whole other story -- ask me later about the Big Left Foot).

Anyway, as I walked through Macys to get back to the parking lot I started to sing myself a catchy little tune:

I drive myself to Macys...

Yeah, catchy. As in, I caught it from Steve. Almost 10 years ago. It made me laugh. So I called him and sang it back to him. Very funny. Until today, when I actually had to use this watch. Every time I checked the time: music. Mastandreas have serious brain defects.

And speaking of brain damage, here's a video that features midgets and horses. It's set to the music of the Dead Kennedys but it would be good even without that.