A Thursday In June
Last night I was talking to Jason about the biography I am reading, and I mentioned to him that the author talks about the rubbergun wars he had as a kid. This caused Jason to tell me about his own rubbergun wars. A rubbergun, he told me, is a piece of wood shaped like a gun, with notches cut in the top, or a clothespin attached to the end. The kids would beg old inner tubes from the gas station man, then cut the tubes into strips. These were used like large, lethal rubberbands to stretch over the point of the gun, and hooked in the notches or clothespin. Jason says they all had old coats they wore for their battles, because the bands hurt so much when they hit that you had to have some padding. He told of one time his friend Billy came over wearing a new leather jacket, got involved in the battle, took a hit in the arm, and the blow ripped a hole in the leather. Now that is some weapon. Billy's father and mother were not pleased and came over to yell at the boys. Jason says the parents always got mad when their kid got injured, but the boys themselves never complained. C'est la guerre.
The days at work are really flying by, since there is such a lot of work to do. Some days I look up and it is already 3:00 in the afternoon. Today the tech guy took over my computer from afar, and killed all the spybots. Now it is working much better, especially an annoying but necessary program that was running very slowly. I am thinking that I should buy a spybot assassin program of my own for use at home. I'd better hurry so I can get Abby to load it for me.