II am rediscovering laptop love. I dragged my old HP pavilion laptop from out of the closet and fixed a couple of minor woes it held. I am once again cheerfully playing on the net while lounging about in various places in my house. I need to pick up another battery for it now that wifi spots are everywhere, however new ones ring up to the tune of 60 bucks or more. And they suck. They die as soon as you charge them.
I bought a bag of crappy socks when I was on vacation. I wear black socks. This fact makes a large number of fashion-minded ladies roll their eyes and sigh despairingly, particularly when I wear them with shorts and-or sandals. However, the simple fact is that I do not like trying to match or sort socks. When I do laundry I like to simply be able to pick out all my socks and stuff them into a drawer. The next morning I can randomly pull out two of them, and they will more or less match.
When I went on vacation I packed rather hastily and after the first day I realized I did not have enough socks. On the drive up we stopped at that ‘J&B’ place in one of the Carolinas that advertises cheap cigarettes on about a million billboards. It is some sort of big discount store and I always feel sad when I visit it because they always have great jackets for sale for dirt cheap, and I am sad because I know if I buy it I will probably get to wear it about one week a year due to the minimal amount of cold in Florida. Anyhow, as I was browsing through the various piles of junk I came across a big plastic sack of socks for six dollars. Oh-ho! My mind cried out in delight. Cheap bulk socks! And without further ado it ended up in my shopping cart. The next morning I ripped open the package and enjoyed that fresh-sock smell. However, when I yanked one on to my foot I saw with disappointment that the sock only went up to my ankle. That, in my opinion, is not a proper sock. Although I do not wear them that way, a sock should nonetheless reach at lease mid-calf height. These were not real black-socks; they were some imitation girly black socks. All they needed was those fuzzy balls that hang off the back. So now I have an entire sack of useless black socks. I wonder if there is anything I can do with spare socks. They are even too short to use as sock puppets. I guess I could give them to bums. Because if there is anything a bum cares about, it’s having clean socks.
I got some Turkey pastrami at the store tonight. I wish I knew why turkey pastrami was so cheap, because it’s one of my favorite lunchmeats. Then again I suppose I do not want to know, I might not want to eat it again, like the fact that today I learned that ‘Ocean Spray’ fruit juices are artificially colored by ground up bug shells. I kid you not. Look it up. Anyways, at the meat counter the person in the little plastic shower cap actually smiled at me and took my order. I was shocked. Never before have I received a smile at the meat counter, the people back there are so surly and disgruntled I often wonder if they whip them in the back or something. And it was not some old lady it was some young black dude.
The ‘Secret of Nimh’ is on television at the moment. This is one of the all-time greatest animated movies. Disney has never made another one like it since, instead they developed some cutesy commercialized formula for all their animated movies and they have never made another one like is since. I just realized my fat odd-eyed cat reminds me of the farmer’s cat in this movie. Something about both of them is a little ‘off’.
My birthday is coming up next week. I do not want to think about how old I am going to be. Sniff. I’m just a boy!
2026 Update
18 years ago today, Ed is losing his mind over ankle socks and a smiling deli clerk. Let's go.
Ah, 2008. Laptops were dragged out of closets like wounded pets, wifi spots were a luxury, and a sixty-dollar battery was a betrayal. Now the machines are sealed little altars—you don't replace the battery, you negotiate with the manufacturer's subscription plan for permission to keep using your own computer. The six-dollar sack of socks from a Carolina discount barn has been replaced by a monthly 'premium sock experience' that still leaves you with fourteen unmatched ankle nubs. The meat counter smile? In 2026 the meat counter has been replaced by an app, and the app does not smile; it just asks for a tip before your order arrives. Even the bug-shell food coloring has rebranded itself as something natural and friendly, as long as you don't read the label. And 'The Secret of NIMH'? It's on a streaming platform now, but only if you own the right one, and I suspect the farmer's cat is still the least unsettling thing on the menu. You were just a boy, Ed. The world was just a prototype.
“2008 Ed, when you grabbed that six-dollar sack of socks, did you not peek at the packaging for the word 'ankle,' or did the bargain itself simply hypnotize you?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2008 Ed: So, Beelzebubba, you hit the nail on the head: the bargain hypnotized me. Six dollars for a whole sack of socks? My brain shut off all higher functions and just chanted “deal, deal, deal” like some kind of idiot monkey. I didn’t peek at the package. I saw “socks,” I saw “six dollars,” and I was gone. That’s on me. I deserve the ankle-height shame. And you’re right, a real sock should at least whisper “mid-calf,” not stop halfway up my foot like it’s shy. Now I’ve got a sack of useless little black things and I’m half-tempted to just glue them together and make a sweater for one of my cats. Or maybe I’ll donate them to bums and pretend I was being charitable instead of stupid. Take that, socks.
