Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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Like my brownhouse:
   passing through Rochester township
Wednesday, June 15 2005
I drove down to Ellenville today to replace a miserable soundcard, a fifteen minute procedure for which I'd negotiated an $80 price from the company I was subcontracting for. The problem wasn't the procedure; it was the forty five minutes of driving necessary to get there followed by the forty five minutes necessary to get back. I took the dogs because I knew they wouldn't have to languish in the truck for too long.
That's a lot of driving past the homes of a lot of people having not all that many teeth. On the way back home I traveled mostly along narrow, scenic Berme Road. This was during the part of the afternoon when schoolbuses were disgorging the bedraggled future of America, and as the yellow blinking lights came up on an oncoming schoolbus I started to slow, but the driver seemed to be waiting for me to pass, so I speeded up, at which point she deployed her fold out stop sign and I slammed on the brakes. When she started lecturing me, though, I sped off. I wasn't going to be humiliated in front of a schoolbus full of overweight Rochester township schoolchildren.
Later, at an Accord hardware store on 209, the one with the big German Shepherds that patrol the aisles, I noticed that on the counter someone had left a pile of flyers for the Accord-area Republican club. Republicans? That's so 2002. I guess I won't be buying any more hardware there.

I eventually took the dogs to "the secret spot" on the Esopus just upstream from Hurley Mountain Road's bridge over the Esopus. The flood had destroyed the parking area, carving a 20 foot wide ditch and leaving a heap of broken asphalt I hadn't even known was there. Further in, the path was blocked by downed trees and tangles of driftwood as tall as two story buildings. There was at least one new channel across the floodplain that the flood had carved and then abandoned as an oxbow. It contained a small school of inch-long fish. As for the creek itself, it hadn't changed much at all.


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