Memo:
i'm very tired, going to take a very long bath at medical hot spring ♨︎ – as such, disappearing for a while & not monitoring channels
handy ways to keep in touch in "my pardons if I didn't answer your internets" vid below
fondly, etc dvo/uw
A ukulele spoken song about not replying in a timely manner because my brain is broken and I’m really tired and confused and worn out from too many channels, but you can give me a call or send me a postcard or a telegram (that kind delivered by a chap in a cap, not the app)
{Alternate version of lyrics}
Forgot your Internet
My pardons if I didn’t click
You’re evidently awesome Internets thing
I’m not trying to be mean
just when I fire up the robot machine
I forget what all of this really means
Suppose it’s easier when you have a working brain
Mine only works four hours a day
And when I start to reply
it just goes
Uhhhhhhh _______
When when the synapses spark
I’m usually in the bathtub
and can’t connect
fingers to the wires
or in the best of times
Manage to be more concise
Then re-writing “when I paint Ulysses war & peace” by Henry Winston Kerouac
Plus you got your twitternets, facespace, instabook, whatsagram, messenger-es (no not twitch, tiktok as I am purely Gen X which means I still have a skype account but no, no more icq and yeah I heard that you were on mastodon, do you need a certificate?
Plus I don’t know about you but at some point I thought having several email addresses was a good idea
I’d keep them all sorted and organized and filtered and brilliant
but then I realize…
I got laundry to fold,
Dishes to wash
And poetry for you to ignore (that’s fine, really no big deal)
Anyhow, I do my best
With postal correspondence
With help from stamps & Providence
(no help from the USPS “How has that guy not been sacked?”)
so as unrequested & unadvised course of action
In lieu of a fax (which would be super cool) or telegram
(the one delivered by a chop and a hat, not the app or a singing vixen) is to postcard me back at the cottage
Tip: just Bing up “Dave Olson postal address”
or heck
Give me a ring
I would call you but it shows as a “restricted number“
So you never seem to pick up
And heaven help me if I’m going to leave a voicemail (except for you Larry)
I can see us now chitchat
like sweethearts in the 1980s
But without those stolen sprint cards
Our parents hollering “I’m expecting a call”
But I like the idea
Of payphone booths on a rainy day
Will come up with codenames
And put in various coins
I’ve requisitioned
Numbers both foreign and domestic
for your convenience
And have been assured
Operators are standing down
OK bye for now
[No *you* hang up first]
