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This was a rather hilarious YouTube recommendation, a geologist invites rockhounds/prospectors onto his show and identifies their rocks. Now, pretty boring, even for me, but worth it for the part where he tries to get some clues as to where this rock came from...
..."on the ground..."
More precisely?
"...in the desert..."
...
"Well, you see, we don't really want to say, be giving away our prime spot and all..."
Now I completely get it, who wouldn't, and the geologist, he sort of gets it, and the rock, it's pretty ugly, just a rock, but to them it's treasure, precious, and they'll go so far as to narrow down the area to a state, or a few hundred square miles, but more than that, well, it's just asking too much.
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I didn't see last night's debate between Harris V Trump, but catching up on the clips today it went pretty much as I expected.
And while I think Harris pretty much has it in the bag there's always the example of Alberta to consider - with Kenny and then Smith.
Proof that there's no overestimating human stupidity and if there can be an entire province filled with idiots there's no reason there can't be an entire country...
But, no more to be said on this, merely watch and see how it comes out.
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This morning, cafe, no Mark, but it's full, Big City Blonde and her coterie and I'm sat next to Loon.
I've mentioned her before, never spoken a word to her but trawled Facebook and discovered her postings.
Wing-Nut extraordinaire.
So, after watching her struggle with her phone for a bit and then cycle off, in a mood, and I'm never sure where the line between mental illness and just crazy begins.
But now, at the library, 11 minutes to go on the Apple and I trawl her Facebook again. She's posting more of her remedies:
The parasites, of course, are her intrusive thoughts, and while I'm sure if you drank enough turpentine they'd go away I'm not sure that's the cure anyone is looking for...
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Mark, a cafe acquaintance, friends of the Big-City Blonde, of late abandoning me to sit with her and her coterie, she's beautiful and single and ...
He doesn't need to apologize, I'm laughing. I've never been introduced, but I've never known so much about anyone in my life, friends, even, let alone strangers. She lives her life out loud. Her fashion sense, cutting edge, today it's tight denim cut-offs with rhinestone bedazzled cowboy boots. Fun, maybe, but should things go wrong the whole world will know and the world always sides with a beautiful woman.
Mark, himself pretty dry, is talking to me about the Anunnaki.
Secret masters of the Universe. Or something. It always amuses me when you meet someone that appears to be relatively straight laced and then they confess to some sort of whack-doodle belief. I promise to look them up, and I do, and am surprised, the sources are interesting, and I've an interest in Classical Mythology. And despite all my listening to Dr. Irving Finkel (still listening, still damned interesting) I've not heard mention of this. Yet.
Link: Wikipedia on the Anunnaki
His take, of course, is that they're space aliens or some such nonsense, and as he's preoccupied with Big City Blonde I'm off the hook for my response, not that I should worry, I'm really there just to listen...
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And, cafe this morning, eavesdropping, my table behind the Big-City Blonde. She's moved back to Nelson, according to a mutual acquaintance, only - to listen to her, she's not.
She's a big day-timer, an 8X11 inch binder with which she schedules her life, I'd make fun of it but really, having a schedule seems like a positively good thing. I mean, I have one after a fashion, only it's perpetually being upended by work and annual inspections.
Anyways, eavesdropping, not even, she talks loudly with purpose, the intent that the whole cafe knows her business, and I'm not sure that it's not a little bit for my benefit...
...so she's moving back to Vancouver, been here a couple of weeks, dating pool is too small, she really wants to get married...
...she's 40, beautiful, and I'm wondering where the hell do you come from that marriage is a priority, but - I've met others of the ilk, it's a thing, for certain people, and while I'm looking like that guy who stares into the camera, disbelief at what he's hearing, "am I the only sane one here...?" expression on my face, trying not to be obvious, because now she's got her camera out to take a selfie and I don't want my incredulous expression to be showing up in the background...