Pepys’ Diary My God. Not long ago, I read the biography of Samuel Pepys by Claire Tomalin – mentioned it in an earlier entry, in fact. I’d been thinking recently that if Pepys were alive today, he’d be a celebrity blogger. Turns out he already is. This project is incredible. Though I do wonder if he left all the naughty bits in – must read that later. If so, this isn’t a blog for reading at work. And duly noted – won’t add trackbacks, as they seem to cause problems for the site creator, Phil Gyford. My own blog gets…
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:NPR : Traditional Travel Agents Seek to Compete with Net Compete? He makes it sound like we’re destined for a museum, with little labels in Latin marking us out by subspecies, translated as in “Corporate Agent, var. SABRE2th Tigress.” So far, I’m one of those niche people, but who knows for how long? And sometime next year, the travel interface will be all point and click, and my mad SABRE booking skillz will be about as useful as a velociraptor’s toenail in a display case. Audio only – with perhaps a text transcript in 7 days.
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My mother and my godmother Veda walked into the house on a cold January night 36 years ago. Another aunt on my mom’s side, Lucy, was also there. They had been taking turns keeping watch with Mom at the hospital for almost two weeks, after an aortic aneurysm dropped my dad like a bale of old newspapers at the bottom of the stairs. Extra, extra, read all about it. In a coma after a risky and then-experimental aortic bypass, he had shown signs of awakening. But then the hospital called with that dreaded “please send someone as soon as possible…