Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

With Apple’s announcement of new goodies in the way of computers and software today, I just had to get down to the nearest Apple store after my training class today and find out what all the fuss is about. Plus, being away from home, money doesn’t seem to hold as much value to me and what harm could happen if I applied for Apple credit while I was at the store?

As an added bonus, the food court has a Chick-Fil-A. Apple store + Apple Credit Card X Chick-Fil-A=Fscking Nirvana. It’s simple math.

While I was eating my charbroiled chicken sandwich and drinking some unsweetened iced tea (I managed to stay healthy while eating tonight), the fire alarms starting honking throughout the mall. No one moved. I kept eating my supper, the muzak kept playing, the chinese restaurant people kept handing out samples and the kid at the table next to me kept saying “more fries! more fries! more fries!” repeatedly while the mother did nothing about it. No one looked for smoke. No one smelled for smoke. There was no mayhem. There wasn’t even interest.

The store under the food court across from the Apple store had smoke billowing out of the back room. It was some sort of card and gift shop. It smelled like every ounce of incense in stock was on fire. Perhaps that’s why everyone was so non-plussed about the fire horns. They were too centered and focused from the incense.

The only real disadvantage to this whole scenario is that the very astute team at the Apple store followed mall policies and ushered everyone out of their store until the fire alarms went off and the trouble cleared. Because the fire was across the hall from the Apple store, this essentially hurded the people towards the pleasantly aromatic smoke and away from all the goodies that were announced at today’s Macworld.

I don’t think people take the new “beep beep” sound of these electronic fire alarms seriously. Perhaps the public has become desensitized to flashing strobe lights and electronic beeps. I remember when the traditional fire BELLS went off when I was in school, everyone made a bee-line for the exit, single file and in an orderly fashion. I’ve been in tall buildings (at least for the city we live in) where the traditional bells rang and people left the building. However, whenever I’ve been around where these electronic horns sound the alarm, people couldn’t care less.

So much for new technology in the fire safety department I guess.

After order was restored and the smoke was cleared, Apple cheerfully opened their store where I promptly applied for an Apple credit account. Click, click, click, please wait. “Oops, you live in New York and you’re currently in Massachusetts.” We need to verify first.

The e-mail arrived when I got back to the hotel room.* You must wait for your card to arrive, then you can make a purchase.

That’s o.k. I probably would have maxed the generous card anyways and then I would have to deal with that financial scenario when I returned home tomorrow night.

* The hotel room saga continues a little. This morning the water pressure in my shower amounted to the feeling that someone was peeing on my head whilst I stood under the shower spigot. (And never mind why I know how that feels, anyway). I mentioned it at the front desk, when I got back to room this evening after class I had a crowd of construction guys in my hotel room bathroom. Try explaining that to your lover. At least I have pictures.

Tonight’s thought that seems to be stuck in my mind is: “Is there really a way to adjust the heat in a hotel room to a comfortable level?” I fear the answer is “no”. Looking at the knob on this heat thingee mounted under my hotel room window (which overlooks the fitness center and there’s a couple of hot guys working out right now, in case you’re wondering why I’m typing in the dark with the curtains open, hidden behind a closet door, but I digress), I have several adjustments I can make to achieve an optimal temperature. I have “hot”. I have “cold”. I have a blending of blue and hot between these two settings. To the right I have multiple choice answers to an unknown question: “low cool”, “high cool”, “low heat”, “high heat”, “fan only”, “off”.

I really wish the folks that made this contraption, (by the way, the make a great Radarange) would have made it a little easier – set the blasted thing for 68 degrees and let the machine figure out the rest.

I don’t think it’s an unreasonable thought.

I can get in my car and set the temperature to 68 and turn the rest of the knobs to auto and the car will do the rest. Granted, it’s not as sexy as the old slide heater controls in our ’78 Impala “Vent”, “Heat”, “Def”, and it only went to “vent” if you pushed on it until the leaves stuffed in the radiator flew out, but it did it’s job. If you were uncomfortable, you rolled down a window. If you were really uncomfortable you hung your head out the window like a happy dog.

I don’t think the guys in the workout area across the courtyard would appreciate me hanging my head out the window with my tongue wagging. It’s a nice thought though.

I am spending the next two nights in Marlborough, Mass. for some training for work. It’ll be two days of pure geek as I learn the ins and outs of computer networking so that I’ll be a better prepared for the additional duties of my job.

It’s very strange to be here in Marlborough. You see, I lived in this area for a couple of years back in the late 1980s. I had a couple of temp jobs before settling down for a two and a half year stint with Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC). On my way here tonight, I drove by a couple of the buildings I used to temp at with DEC. They’re HP buildings now (since HP bought Compaq who bought DEC in the mid 90s), but I didn’t expect to see the facility codes still prominently displayed on the outside. Building MRO2 is still MRO2! I had friends that worked at MRO2! I wonder where they are today.

I had also completely forgotten how combative driving is in eastern Massachusetts. Whew! Good thing I bought the Acura so I could kick some ass on I-495 and the Mass. Pike.

Now, off to find some supper…

It’s official in our merry little household. We took down the Christmas trees, put away the holiday knick-knacks and retrieved all the ornaments Tom stole from the bottom of the trees and batted under the couch. The holidays are officially over.

When I was child I used to get quite misty eyed when it was time to take down the Christmas tree. I think part of the reason was because Christmas was such a mad dash in our house. Our family usually put the tree up the Sunday before Christmas and took it down the Sunday after. The decorations were up for two weeks at the most. The blinking lights, my favorite smiling cat ornament, the tinsel, the garland and other boxes full of decorations were all put away in a secret location for the next 50 weeks. The were put in a secret location because I’d usually trot the lights out in June or July just to look at them and think back on the previous Christmas and how much I enjoyed the holidays.

Even at seven I had drama going on.

I don’t tear up anymore when we “disassemble the holidays.” I’m too busy thinking about how much work is involved with the task. Plus, since we have an artificial tree, I don’t have the missing pine smell to remind me that there’s no longer a tree in the house. But it’s all worth it. The season was joyous this year and I wouldn’t trade it in for any other experience.

Even though we’re over a week in 2006, it’s only today for us that the holidays are officially over. It’s going to seem weird when my sister comes back from Russia in February for a visit and we exchange Christmas gifts. It’ll be like taking my holiday cheer out of the secret location early and remembering how joyous the holidays are. I guess I’ll feel like a kid again.