More Dribble...

 I yam just too danged busy...

Not really, but the bottom line is that I do end up running in several directions at once...  Kinda.  I do expect that this is something having to do with an aging brain.  That is, there's an awful lot up there...  

I do recall Heinlein's suggestion that a fellow named Renshaw might come along and teach us all how to organize our brains.  I do not expect the Musk experiment to work all that well, I do hope that someone with a fairly good track record for bio-technological integration does end up stepping up.  What I do need is the Google Indexer working in there.  I have a lot of stuff I have known, both information and images, and it would be wonderful to be able to review it in any sort of fashion I'd like to review.

But then again, I'm one of those folks who does tend to get attached to things.  Not things as in the items themselves, but far more the memories which the items provoke.  One of the items I do most deeply wish I could lay hands upon is my old Scout Jacket.  I've owned two of those red wool things, and frankly, both mean a fair bit.  The youth jacket which I had included many patches from my various campouts, going all the way back to the very first one, just a few miles from where I lived.  That land is now a county park, I do not believe they allow individuals, families, and small groups to camp there.  They do allow large groups, so I have a very slim chance, but I don't think it'll happen.  I must have had close to twenty patches on that jacket from youth campouts.  During the average Scouting year as a boy, we'd make maybe three campouts.  Yes, 80% of Scouting is Outing, but the bottom line when I was younger was being able to pull it off.  We'd have to get adults willing to go along to make sure we behaved ourselves, and then we'd have to get the buy-in.  A weekend campout would start Friday evening with travel, arrival, and set up.  Some campouts saw us setting up in the dark, then scrambling to make it to the opening campfire.  Others, well, there were the annual trips to summer camp.  Those began on Sundays, when we'd load up in vehicles and drive north.  We'd offload in the "parade grounds" of Parker Scout Reservation, then walk our hind parts with all of our camping gear about a mile into the woods.  We'd get to the camp site where we'd find old Army canvas tents with the three-piece wooden frame, and wooden cots.  Two guys to a tent, we'd pick our spots, set up, and then get ready for dinner.  And the opening campfire.  

But I dither.  

Anyway, what would be darned convenient would be having some sort of input.  But then again, some of the kids, today, will have that with much of their lives spent with a cell phone.  I was 30 when I got one, and it took about another 15 before I got something approaching a smart phone.  I wonder, assuming we don't end up getting wiped out before that, what kids a hundred years from now might manage to do with a cell phone from a very young age through to, one hopes, is their 120 to 150th birthday.  Would be wonderful if we made it that far.

But as it's now after 11 pm on a Sunday, I'd best get my hind parts to bed so when the alarm clock goes off tomorrow morning, I'm at least partially coherent.  We can hope, anyway, and then rely on caffeine for the remainder of the day.