Booked-out Tie o’ the Day is hanging out with the computer keyboards. As much as I am smitten by ties and bow ties, I revel in words. One-syllable words, bigly words, odd words, unpronounceable words, and so on. If it’s a word, it’s my buddy. I’ve never bothered to learn a second language, cuz I haven’t yet finished with all the English words and their various combinations. It’s a good thing I’m a writer, or I’d have no idea what to do with the words in my head. They’d probably turn into voices, which would probably make my head implode.
I even find a use for most swear words. Not the bad, bad, bad ones. They make me cringe. But a basic swear word is sometimes the exact right word to use. It makes a point. It adds emphasis. I get tired of profanity if it’s just there to take up space. It’s usually unimaginative. In almost all instances of swear word usage, there is a more descriptive, more precise word to convey whatever message you’re trying to get across to someone else. I admit I use the tamer profanities on occasion, but I would not say that swearing is one of my prominent characteristics. However, I recently benefited bigly-time by letting out a few “hell”‘s and “damn”‘s I didn’t know anyone heard.
My desktop computer sits upstairs in the loft area where I write. The poor machine is a dozen years old, and we all know that in “technology years,” it has outlived itself at least three times over at this point. Its operating system can no longer be updated. It loads whatever it loads at a speed barely resembling motion. I don’t recall complaining to Suzanne much about the ancient machine. I bear the desktop no ill will, and I mostly make it work.
But apparently, when the computer hadn’t followed my orders lately, I began to drop a fairly innocent swear word. Or two. A tiny “hell” or “damn,” spoken in almost a whisper from the loft. The words must have floated down the stairway, where they curled into the living room— where they flew right into Suzanne’s ear while she tried to think of presents to get me for our 6th Anniversary and Christmas. She took hints I didn’t even know I was giving. Of course, she has known me since 1984, so she can read me beyond my words. And so Suzanne gifted me a new iMac, to cover both our 6th Anniversary and X-mas. She says she’s pretty sure iron (traditional 6th Anniversary gift) is used somewhere in the machine’s construction, and I am happy to believe her.
Gee, I hope I can determine which computer keyboard is the new one and which is the old one. I know: I’ll follow the Yellow Key Grime.
