On Tuesday I took the kids to the pool for the first time this summer. I didn't remember what time the local pool opened, so I checked the web. The site I was on stated the pool opened at 1 pm, so we didn't go until then. When we got the there, the pool was packed, and the real opening time is Noon. I complained to my kids that the website said it opened at 1 to which my daughter replied, "Just because it was on the web doesn't mean it's right." I know where she got that reply from. Me. A happy boomerang of parenting.
It's difficult not to notice a really bad tattoo, one of those ink jobs you look at and think, "That's horrible." I saw one at the local pool the other day that was not only horrible, but also it was despicable. Some dude had a large tattoo of the battle flag (stars and bars) and the official flag of the Confederate States of America on his back ~ smack dab in the middle of his back right below his shoulder blades. I might expect seeing a tattoo like this, say, in the Deep South where there are active lineage societies like United Daughters of the Confederacy and Sons of Confederate Veterans, but I was surprised to see it in east central Illinois.
After they came in the mail last week, it occurred to me that two books I bought have titles that start the exact same way. The two books are You Are Not Smart by David McRaney and You Are Not a Gadget by Jaron Lanier. In defiance of these titles, I might go around thinking of myself as a smart gadget.