One of those Days

James Doohan
3 March 1920 - 20 July 2005
My family enjoyed Star Trek growing up. It was a staple in my household. We went to a convention or two, taped all of the episodes from TV (this was in the days before a series came out on DVD the year after it was on TV) and read the books. I think that I saw all but one of the movies opening week with my parents.
More that a science fiction television show, it was a sign of hope for the future. All mankind had pulled together, and because of that there were limitless possibilities.
But more than that, Star Trek taught us. All I ever needed to know I learned from Star Trek.
A measure of a man is counted not by what he has, but by how many people remember him when he passes. Not only will people remember him, but they cannot forget. Your name will live on in syndication for decades to come. Thank you, Mr. Doohan, for many pleasant memories.
I am a computer geek. I have a home network complete with a server. I am sure that this is not uncommon nowadays, but among my peers and coworkers, I am Mr. Tech Support. Considering the fact that I work with databases and such all day long, this is kind of scary. But nevertheless, I am good at what I do.
But there is a reason that I am good at what I do: I seem to make all of my mistakes at home.
I decided that it was time to update the security on my server and that I needed restructure my file hierarchy. I moved a lot of folders around. I thought a folder was empty, but it was not. This folder was all of my program installation files. A lot can be said for backing everything up, but since it used to have its own separate drive that rarely got touched, I had never bothered. Fortunately, I still have most of the original installation disks.
I spent the day Saturday cleaning the basement and doing laundry. Beth took the boys to do some grocery shopping, and I decided it was time to take a break. I settled down with a large glass of water and my laptop. I reached for the handle to lean back in the recliner and want back. Way back. I realized that something was wrong as my head hit the wall. My recliner was broken.
I bought my first recliner at a thrift store in 2001. I had not seen the purpose of one before, but we needed more seating in our living room, and a recliner seemed to fit the bill. It quickly became “my” seat. A couple of years later the seat fell through, but you get what you pay for, and I definitely got my $35 worth.
Some friends of ours had a recliner in their spare room that they never used, so they let us have it. This recliner was a step up from our previous one, as it was a rocker/recliner. It was nice, but squeaky. Half a can of WD-40 later, it became “my” chair. I cannot count the number of times that I have rocked Tony to sleep in that chair.
As I have said before, I have a hard time stepping backward when it comes to possessions. I had to have a recliner, and this time it was going to be a new one. Beth saw this as an opportunity to persuade me for an entire living room set. I was reluctant at first, but nothing matches kool-aid stained sage green. (In retrospect, we should have gotten a darker colored couch.) I caved and we set out furniture shopping.
Six stores later, we decided we were going to purchase the set we saw at the first store we stopped at, and we went back. Our new leather sofa, love seat and recliner arrive on Saturday. As an added bonus, both ends of the sofa and love seat recline. Until then, I will slouch in the lawn chair and wait.