Day 1592

My breakfast restaurant is a great place for people watching. Every large city seems to have a little hole-in-the-wall place like this where the aroma of suburb simple meals seems to lure the wealthy and the working poor in almost equal numbers to the same humble tables. This is the only place in Dallas where I routinely see Ferrari 458 Spiders and McLaren MP4's parked right next to beat up white work vans filled with plumbing tools. Of course, since the place is still considered cool in some circles, there are an inordinate number of hipster bicycles as well.

When a diverse group of people start to gather in a small room, you begin to notice things. I've noticed that thin bald men of a certain age aren't really Olympic swimmers or in training for a triathlon. They are just making a fashion statement. I've noticed that it is remarkably easy to identify who is still working for a large organization. They are all wearing those laminated plastic badges around their neck with a bar code  that lets them enter and exit their permanently locked place of work. I guess it has come to this. We are all in lock-down mode now.

I have a certain amount of admiration for the young entrepreneurs. They arrive with a backpack full of electronic devices that all have to be turned on simultaneously. Many of these people seem to be trying to crowdsource their latest project on Kickstarter, or find an elusive venture capitalist who will watch the Powerpoint presentation on the iPad in their packpack. Most of these people will fail, but at least they are trying.

Dash's doctors are trying their best to keep his incision site from getting infected. The effects of radiation treatments are cumulative and after 17 visits to the cancer center, the area that is receiving most of the radiation is really starting to itch. Since Dash is a dog, it is hard to keep him from scratching something that itches. We've tried the cone of shame, a cloth scarf held in place with Velcro, and even leaving his special harness on during the day, but nothing seems to work. When Dash was attacked by another dog years ago, Janet sewed a special t-shirt that Dash wore permanently while his wounds healed. That seemed to work. Maybe she can make another this weekend.

Every Friday afternoon I hand my credit card to the receptionist at the cancer center and settle Dash's bills for the week. This is when I wish that all my client's paid me in 30 days like they are supposed to. Yes, you know who you are. What is the point of hanging on to the money for as long as you can when you are going to have to part with it eventually? I just don't get it. When I made most of my income producing commercials and corporate videos, I always paid my crews immediately. Life is just simpler that way.

Pogo is today's Dalmatian of the Day

Watch of the Day