Day 27: A Favorite Website
Growing up as a kid we had a very nice set of Encyclopdeia Brittanicas. I lived in two homes growing up and these Encyclopdeia Brittanicas were a key feature in each. Especially in the Greenway Circle home we moved into when I was aboynamedstu v.10. This house, which my parents built, had a book case wall that was between the dining room/kitchen and large living room. The book case went floor to ceiling and our collection of Encyclopdeia Brittanicas were displayed proudly on the lower shelves. This led to our Encyclopdeia Brittanicas being eaten by Mike. Which is a good story in and of itself.
My Mom loved animals. Big time. During the early 1980s Mom had a lady who worked at her beauty shop who was married to a guy that raised Labrador Retrievers. There was one dog, in particular, named Mike, who was driving her husband nuts. Mike wouldn't do all the shit Labs are supposed to do. Mike didn't even really like water. Which is pretty bad for a Lab. To add insult to injury not only was Mike an epic fuck up for a Lab, he was also a pain in the ass because he was obsessed with food. To the point that he got into fights with all the other dogs and just caused a lot of problems for the guy who raised these animals to be hunting dogs. Not pets. It got so bad that the guy was thinking of putting Mike down (a nice way of saying he was going to shoot him.) Until, that is, Mom intervened and we ended up the proud owners of a wacky 6 month old black lab named Mike.
Mike ended up being one cool dog. Let me cut to the chase right here, right now on that fact. He was great with kids. Loved to be around people. He was a good dog. But when he was young he was fucking crazy. Bad. When we'd all be out of the house he'd go nuts. Literally. His favorite thing to do was drag shit out and chew on it. In today's PC world we'd say he had separation anxiety and probably medicate him. Back then, we just dealt with it the best we could because Mom was his advocate no matter how bad he destroyed the house. Which could be bad. Like come back from dinner and the front room looks like they do in movies when they are searching for a micro-chip, bad. Shit everywhere. And his favorite thing to drag out and chew were books and magazines. Seriously. And even better was that my Mom called this wheels off behavior, reading.
Imagine coming back from dinner in 1982 and walking into your house which looks like someone has been searching for top secret spy files. Magazines torn apart. The first three shelves of book case wall empty. Everything everywhere. Including your Encyclopdeia Brittanicas with the spines chewed off. Teeth marks. Dog slobber. Mom would take all of this in and then look at this crazy dog and say, "Mikey, have you been reading. You must be the smartest dog in the world."
Seriously.
The reason I told you that though is this. My Dad loved those Encyclopdeia Brittanicas. His favorite thing to do was grab one, say the letter C, and sit down and read it cover to cover. He'd even read it to me at times. He did this pretty much all through my youth. I can still picture him in my mind's eye sitting in his chair reading one of the Encyclopdeia Brittanicas.
It is only fitting, since I am my Father's son that my favorite website is a Buck Rogers homage to him and his habit. I love Wikipedia. Hard. It is by far my number one visited site and the one I spent the most time reading.
Great example of my usage of this site while giving you a bonus quirk of mine. When I eat lunch at my desk these days I read the the Wikipedia listings for United States network television schedules. Seriously. I love it. To go year by year and to see what was on in prime time. Like the year I was born. What shows I know about were on against. At what time. Day. When they were picked-up. Canceled. Then chasing links to discover more about this or that. It's the perfect storm of trivia and chronological history that sucks me into another world. I freaking love it which is why I love Wikipedia.
Until I BLOG again...We've got nothing better to do
Than watch T.V. and have a couple of brews.
My Mom loved animals. Big time. During the early 1980s Mom had a lady who worked at her beauty shop who was married to a guy that raised Labrador Retrievers. There was one dog, in particular, named Mike, who was driving her husband nuts. Mike wouldn't do all the shit Labs are supposed to do. Mike didn't even really like water. Which is pretty bad for a Lab. To add insult to injury not only was Mike an epic fuck up for a Lab, he was also a pain in the ass because he was obsessed with food. To the point that he got into fights with all the other dogs and just caused a lot of problems for the guy who raised these animals to be hunting dogs. Not pets. It got so bad that the guy was thinking of putting Mike down (a nice way of saying he was going to shoot him.) Until, that is, Mom intervened and we ended up the proud owners of a wacky 6 month old black lab named Mike.
Mike ended up being one cool dog. Let me cut to the chase right here, right now on that fact. He was great with kids. Loved to be around people. He was a good dog. But when he was young he was fucking crazy. Bad. When we'd all be out of the house he'd go nuts. Literally. His favorite thing to do was drag shit out and chew on it. In today's PC world we'd say he had separation anxiety and probably medicate him. Back then, we just dealt with it the best we could because Mom was his advocate no matter how bad he destroyed the house. Which could be bad. Like come back from dinner and the front room looks like they do in movies when they are searching for a micro-chip, bad. Shit everywhere. And his favorite thing to drag out and chew were books and magazines. Seriously. And even better was that my Mom called this wheels off behavior, reading.
Imagine coming back from dinner in 1982 and walking into your house which looks like someone has been searching for top secret spy files. Magazines torn apart. The first three shelves of book case wall empty. Everything everywhere. Including your Encyclopdeia Brittanicas with the spines chewed off. Teeth marks. Dog slobber. Mom would take all of this in and then look at this crazy dog and say, "Mikey, have you been reading. You must be the smartest dog in the world."
Seriously.
The reason I told you that though is this. My Dad loved those Encyclopdeia Brittanicas. His favorite thing to do was grab one, say the letter C, and sit down and read it cover to cover. He'd even read it to me at times. He did this pretty much all through my youth. I can still picture him in my mind's eye sitting in his chair reading one of the Encyclopdeia Brittanicas.
It is only fitting, since I am my Father's son that my favorite website is a Buck Rogers homage to him and his habit. I love Wikipedia. Hard. It is by far my number one visited site and the one I spent the most time reading.
Great example of my usage of this site while giving you a bonus quirk of mine. When I eat lunch at my desk these days I read the the Wikipedia listings for United States network television schedules. Seriously. I love it. To go year by year and to see what was on in prime time. Like the year I was born. What shows I know about were on against. At what time. Day. When they were picked-up. Canceled. Then chasing links to discover more about this or that. It's the perfect storm of trivia and chronological history that sucks me into another world. I freaking love it which is why I love Wikipedia.
Until I BLOG again...We've got nothing better to do
Than watch T.V. and have a couple of brews.
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