PhD As In Putty Head

Last week, I bought three copies of Rising Sand, the new CD by Robert Plant and Alison Krause. I'm in love with this CD, listen constantly.

Stryker wondered, why three copies? Well, I'm going to give them away as holiday gifts, of course.

Stryker: "Why spend all that money when I can make copies and reproduce the cover?"

Because I am stupid. I am old and my brain works the wrong way, 20th century style. Thick and linear.

This is why it took me a month to discover I could add video, links and photos to these actual posts. When I pick up a digital camera, my jaw hangs open so far it hits my shaking hands, resulting in pictures that look like the one here.

It's nobody's birthday, either. The camera has DNA, I swear. It just did that.

And then there's twitter and Digg and RSS feeds and so many social networks the eyes pop and glaze. One can be fabulously, famously, plugged in.
While I work on wiping the drool from my chin, I'm reading these blogs, ones with technological muscle: redsy, lawyer mama, her bad mother, and pundit mom.

Toddling toward online literacy, let's start with something iconic for Minnesota Matron, like Redneck Mommy has.

Surely, there's some scrawny, bespectacled, aging image available.

Sigh.